#The more you love your wife the better you hair is

[jabbasyogainstructor]

Just to add:

I remember hearing romanticized stories about Persephone and Hades when I was a kid and I predate not only Tumblr, but all social media. Tumblr is a place where ideas like that take off, but it doesn’t necessarily mean that social media is their origin.

The myth of Medusa has had many versions, and whether she had snakes for hair depends entirely on teller (Ovid, for instance, OP brought it up) but also on place of origin. The Romans changed many of these stories to suit their audience. In their version of events, Persephone and Hades, (or Proserpina and Pluto as they called them) definitely cheated on each other plenty. Roman aristocracy saw it as odd that a married couple would love each other, cheating was very much the norm and it was expected to be discreet. Marriages were for political gain, not love; the idea was love your mistress and be dutiful to your wife. The Greeks weren’t wholly different in this, but it was pretty common among Greek men (especially in Sparta) to have your lover be of the same sex.

Also, Hades and Persephone were feared and not generally referred to by name. They were referred to as “the dread” and “the dark one.” There is some evidence that the Greeks believed that Hades would be infertile due to being the lord of the dead, so any children they had were usually associated with Zeus (her own father) and generally not consensually conceived. Zagreus and Melinoe are the usual two, although sometimes she is also occasionally mentioned as the mother of Dionysus (in most other cases his mother is Semele).

Arachne is better known for having claimed she was a better weaver than Athena and was turned into a spider for it. Her name is the basis for the word Arachnid: the spider family. I’ve never heard of her being punished by Zeus, but these stories are so old that there are multiple versions of all of them.

Artemis and Apollo being gods of sun and moon were due to the decline of the titans. The few older generation deities who helped Zeus overthrow Chronos were allowed to continue as they were: Helios and Selene were in charge of the sun and moon but over time people started changing the stories to say all the titans were overthrown. It was probably just easier, but Apollo and Artemis, as the twins, were a really convenient choice for replacement, given that they were “as different as the sun and moon.”

And lastly, because this just bugs me every time I hear it: it was NOT the norm in ancient Rome to eat and eat and eat and then throw up to fit more food in. I know what you’re all thinking, the vomitorium, right? The vomitorii were the exits to the Coliseum. When the games ended and everyone left, there were so many people that it looked like the Coliseum was throwing up people. Now, it has been the norm just about anywhere, in ancient times and present day, for people to drink so much that they throw up. That’s not what I mean. The story that the Romans would deliberately stick their fingers down their throats and vomit in order to continue at the banquet, is a falsehood. I will not take any arguments, just go look it up. It is why they laid down to eat. They believed it was more comfortable and spread the food out in their body so that their lavish banquets could be so long. People were eating very small items; at some noble banquets, bird tongues and stuffed dormice were considered delicacies. Hard to really gorge on that. Think of it as micro tapas. You would have to eat all day and not stop to need to vomit. And they would have made entire species extinct. The word has the same root, but the historical inference is completely wrong.

a quick psa to anyone recently getting into greek mythology and is a victim of tumblr and/or tiktok misconceptions:

-there is no shame in being introduced to mytholgy from something like percy jackson, epic the musical or anything like that, but keep in mind that actual myths are going to be VERY different from modern retellings

-the myth of medusa you probably know (her being a victim of poseidon and being cursed by athena) isn't 100% accurate to GREEK mythology (look up ovid)

-there is no version of persephone's abduction in which persephone willingly stays with hades, that's a tumblr invention (look up homeric hymn to demeter)

-as much as i would like it, no, cerberus' name does not mean "spot" (probably a misunderstanding from this wikipedia article)

-zeus isn't the only god who does terrible things to women, your fav male god probably has done the same

-on that note, your fav greek hero has probably done some heinous shit as well

-gods are more complicated than simply being "god of [insert thing]", many titles overlap between gods and some may even change depending on where they were worshipped

-also, apollo and artemis being the gods of the sun and the moon isn't 100% accurate, their main aspects as deities originally were music and the hunt

-titans and gods aren't two wholly different concepts, titan is just the word used to decribe the generation of gods before the olympians

-hector isn't the villain some people make him out to be

-hephaestus WAS married to aphrodite. they divorced. yes, divorce was a thing in ancient greece. hephaestus' wife is aglaia

-ancient greek society didn't have the same concepts of sexuality that we have now, it's incorrect to describe virgin goddesses like artemis and athena as lesbians, BUT it's also not wholly accurate to describe them as aromantic/asexual, it's more complex than that

-you can never fully understand certain myths if you don't understand the societal context in which they were told

-myths have lots and lots of retellings, there isn't one singular "canon", but we can try to distinguish between older and newer versions and bewteen greek and roman versions

-most of what you know about sparta is probably incorrect

-reading/waching retellings is not a substitute to reading the original myths, read the iliad! read the odyssey! i know they may seem intimidating, but they're much more entertaining than you may think

greek mythology is so complex and interesting, don't go into it with preconcieved notions! try to be open to learn!

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib… ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

“A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[robynlilyblack]

You're the prettiest thing here you know

Remus lupin x fem! Slytherin! reader

Summary: Remus remembers his first kiss with his future wife

Warnings/tags: swearing, mentions of injury, death, self-doubt, blood supremacy and all things to do with Remus’ furry little problem, first kiss, getting together, established relationship, reader and Remus they are late 20s in present sections and 17/18 in flashback, clumsy! sunshine! reader, grump! Remus, majority of the fic is the flashback!

A/n: 4.6k words, kinda love the idea of Remus having the most accident-prone wife, thank you for the request, enjoy and happy valentines day lovelies ♡

Navigation | Remus Lupin Masterlist

“Motherfu…” you yelp, sucking a breath as you curse 

Remus looks up “You good love?” he asks casually at first but then winces at the sound of your groans, watching as you gently fall back onto the cold ground, clutching your ankle “One minute love…old wolf needs a second” he jests, shifting his weight as he pulls himself up

It takes him longer than he would like to get to you, his knees where achy at the best of times, but combine that with the early year chill and it turned him into even more of an old man than he felt already

When he finally does get there, he bends down at the hip, hand moving some of your hair back before he cups your cheek “Got yourself good this time huh?” he coos

Your eyes find his, a sad pout on your face as you feel sorry for yourself “Yeah” you nod with a slight chuckle before your head falls back down

Remus’ eyes follow yours, finding you rubbing your ankle through your socks…well they were actually his socks, and if you weren’t in pain he would tease you as he had been looking for said socks all morning

So much for not knowing where they are little minx

He kneels down then, hands falling to the site of your injury “What happened?” he inquires, holding back his smile as your lean into his touch, giving him the softest, sweetest headbutt to his shoulder

“Lost a fight with a shovel” you explain, hands wrapping around his own as you let out a prolonged breath “You can laugh now, the pains stopped” you tell him, eyes flicking up to meet his own

With that Remus let’s himself break, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. You had always been this clumsy, in fact that’s how you and he first met, infirmary buddies so to speak, him with his chronic wolfy transformations and you with some random yet slightly hilarious new injury.

“Why don’t you help me with these, the grounds still a bit firm for building a new bed anyway” he tells you, but not before kissing the tips of his fingers not engulf by gloves and placing it on your ankle “Better?”

 “Like new” you grin up at him

As he stands upright, he finds you smiling at him, head tilted, the little bobble of your hat cutely hanging to one side, one of his winter jackets wrapped around you, along with two very different and not at all matching scarfs that somehow you pull off

“What are you staring at?” he eyes you

“I can’t admire?” you defend, shrugging as slowly pull yourself up

Remus turns his head a little, smiling as the cold hides his tinting cheeks. After all these years a bit of him is still in disbelief, how did someone like him get so lucky?

“You can but I don’t think we’ll finish today if you do” he tells you once you have dusted yourself off, facing him once more “Are you going to be good pretty girl?” he raises his eyebrows

You smile coyly, yet Remus sees the shyness you try oh so hard to hide under his own gaze “Never” you challenge, before stepping past him, taking his hand and leading him back towards the flower bed he was working on before

After a bit of work Remus’ movements come to a halt as he looks over to find you towelling away, you don’t notice his stare as you take a break yourself, gazing out over the field beyond the borders of yours and his cottage as the sun breaks free from the clouds. That smile he fell in love with painted on your face as your eyes flutter shut, a content sigh leaving your lips as you soak up the rays

She is so beautiful

It’s then a wave of nostalgia washes over him, maybe it’s the view, or the way the sun hits yours face just as the stars and moon did back then, but he can’t help recalling the night he would live again and again forever…

Start of flashback

“Come on Rem!” you say childishly, pulling Remus through the overgrowth, wand lighting the way

He huffs in faux annoyance, he had no idea why you felt the need to drag him through the enchanted forest at this hour, nor how you could have this much energy after a full day of classes and prefect rounds, but he really didn’t mind, not when it meant he got to spend more time with you

“So…” he leans to the side as you ascend a gentle incline, attempting to catch glimpse of your face “…why am I being gifted with a hike at 2am on a Tuesday?” he wonders, attempting to supress his smile as he can just about make out your excited one “Not that I’m not grateful for the exercise…or the cold…or the mud” he complains just a little

“Because mr grumps, you’re my friend and there is something I want to show you” you turn back flashing him an even bigger smile than you’re resting one “Besides you were awake anyway” you needlessly defend your impromptu trip further as you turn back

His heart both warms and aches at friend, since he met you, he knew a part of him wanted something more, but the other part knew it was for the best, even after you figured out his condition, you deserved someone better. Besides, as much as you and he broke the Gryffindor and Slytherin stereotype, him being in your own words ‘mr grumps’ and you in his words being little ‘miss sunshine’, the rest of the school wouldn’t be as happy…let alone his friends

He lets out a small chuckle “Then as my friend you should know that I was in the middle of my routine…I still had a good hour of self-doubt and deprecation to get in before my four hours” he jokes, though it’s not really one…in fact if he’s perfectly honest it’s more like three some nights

“Well instead of that totally heathy routine” you nip back, and he rolls his eyes with the slightest smirk on his face “You get to spend it with me and see something wonderful!”

You sounded so excited. That light in your eyes that made even Remus’ darkest days’ worth living through was shining as bright as ever, and he couldn’t help but get excited too

“Okay…” you stop just a willow tree, similar to the one he was all too familiar with but far less magical…and big…and deadly “…you ready?” you turn towards him, struggling to contain yourself

He nods, eyeing you as you put away your wand, engulfing you both in darkness “Wha…” he starts but then his eyes adjust, and he notices the unworldly glow from the other side of the hanging vines 

“I’ll go first, then you follow, okay?” you tell him, and he finds himself nodding wordlessly

Remus watches you slide through the vines, the soft embers of light worming through before they settle once more. He takes a small breath before he follows, pushing his hand through first to create a path for himself, it’s a little thicker than he thought it would be but soon he finds the other side, breath hitching as he takes in the view

Before him was a hidden garden, a small clearing within the forest filled with flowers, their petals shimmering beneath the star light. The area was surrounded by more willows, but inside the garden their hanging leaves bloomed with glowing berries emitting a warm orange hue. As he steps deeper, he finds the left side of the field stops abruptly, revealing a cliffside to the coastline of black lake

“Wow” he breathes out, a genuine smile gracing his face for the first time in months

You were right earlier, though he dares say you undersold just how wonderful your surprise was, and he almost doesn’t feel worthy of it, in fact, he knows he’s unworthy of it

“You like it?” 

His head softly turns towards your voice, finding you, hands clasped around the strap of your bag, lip pulled under your teeth as you await his answer, it’s then he realises why you went first, you wanted to see his reaction

“Like it?” he chuckles slightly “I love it” he confesses, unable to hold up his barriers at your hopeful eyes, even more at your proud little smile at his confession

“The view from the cliff is even better” you hold out hand

He takes it, but just as he is about to step into the moonlight, he stops, causing you to turn back and ask if he’s alright, but your words are lost on him as he pears up, catching glimpse of the waning moon

“I’m sorry” his eyes finally find you again and his heart breaks at your concern, cheeks flooding with embarrassment over how he’s going to ruin a perfect night with his fears “I’m good here, I’m sure it’s lovely but…” he takes a breath, unable to get out the rest

“But?” you wonder sweetly, taking a step towards him “It’s a beautiful night, I don’t want you to mess the best part…oh” you’re eyes light up and he worries you’ve figured it out “Are you scared of heights? I can shift and you can hold me to calm you down if that would help?” you offer, and it kills him

You were too sweet for your own good, not only had you chosen him to show this wonderful place, but you were willing to accommodate his fears without judgement. The mention of your animagus made his heart hurt more, you really had done everything to help him, and maybe it was that that allowed him to confess the real reason

His hand cups over yours, thumb stealing circles over your knuckles “Love…” he finds your eyes “…I’m…I’m not afraid of heights I just…it’s a clear night and well…” he looks down, swallowing hard “…the moon is out” he whispers and he’s too ashamed to look back up, instead he savours your hand in his scarred ones and the way they engulf your own

“Rem” your voice is so soft he could cry, he doesn’t want to be pitied, so much he finches as your other hand finds his cheek, encouraging him to look at you, but when he doesn’t, you continue “If you want to leave we can, or we can sit at the edge at the trees” you tell him sweetly “You aren’t going to shift here” you continue before a giggle escapes your lips as you add “besides…if you did I’d just push you off”

His head snaps up at that, staring at your cheeky grin in disbelief, processing before letting out scoff of a laugh “I can’t believe you just said that” he shakes his head, beginning to chuckle properly 

“It made you laugh though” you smile at him, and he finds himself relishing the closeness, the softness of your fingers on his rougher cheek and hands

“That you did” he agrees, hoping you don’t notice him leaning ever so slightly into your touch

He hides his disappointment however as your kind touch leaves his cheek, but his disappointment doesn’t last long as you take his other hand in your own, guiding him “I’ll be right here” you assure him, your movements gentle as you take a step back, letting him know he can leave if that’s what he truly wanted

Remus won’t lie, he’s still nervous but the safety he feels around you is stronger than his fear, and he lets you lead him towards the cliffside

Looking out over the night sky his eyes soon lock on to the moon, but as they do he feels your hand squeeze his “You’re okay” you tell him, and he actually believes it “You’re more than that big hunk of rock…come on let’s sit” you softly pull him as you lower yourself to the ground, and as you do, Remus waits until the very last second to let go of your hand

“Thank you” he finally says after you both are comfortable “What would I do without you?” he doesn’t ever want to know the answer, so he’s glad you answer when it with a joke

“Wallow in self-pity?” you jest “Maybe die of a heart attack with how much chocolate you consume?” you laugh

Despite his own chuckles he playfully nudges you “Funny bunny” he shakes his head, returning his gaze to the limitless expanse of stars, then down towards the shoreline, enjoying the simple beauty of waves washing across sand

“Can you see them?” you ask after a moment

His eyebrows furrow, looking at you then more intently at the beach “See what?” he wonders, confused

Just as he’s about to turn back towards you he feels you shuffle closer to him, pointing “Look closely at the wet sand, just before the waves come in…do you see it?” you ask, your head practically on his shoulder by this point

Remus’ confusion melts into intrigue as he watches the area you point out, eyes widening when he finally sees it, the slight indentations across the beach, not unlike the kind he and his friends make when they use James’ cloak in snow, yet these tracks much more resembled an animal

“What are they?” he turns to you, desperately holding back his blush at how close your face is to his

Merlin, he felt like a lovesick puppy, until now he had been able to keep his growing feelings at bay but now even your crossed leg gentle tapping against his own was enough to send his heart into a tizzy

You don’t seem fazed however as you just smile “Thestrals” you say simply “The magical creatures that pull the carriages” you add to jog his memory

“Really” he looks to the beach “That’s amazing” he says, smiling as he spots a smaller set following larger set before he recalls one particular fact about the invisible creatures “You can see them?” his heart drops a little…more so at your confirmation

“Yes” but your expression doesn’t change “You’re allowed to ask” you grant him a soft smile

He takes a moment after that though, despite your permission he still feels like he’s invading your privacy by asking “Who?” 

You look away then, off towards the shore “A few years ago, my father was sick. He’s alright now, but there was a time my mother and I practically lived in the hospital” you start and while you speak your eyes track something on the shore, he assumes a thestral but doesn’t tear his eyes away to check “There was a kind lady in the room next door, Dorothy. She used to share the sweet treats her sons would bring her with me…she was a muggleborn you see, I lied to my mother about that part though” you chuckle softly “She taught me how to knit properly, with needles and not magic…if I’m being honest I think she’s one of the main reasons I stopped believing in all that crap” you confess, your voice wavering a little as you look down at the ground

Remus’ eyes widen, sure, he hadn’t really spoken to you until the end of fifth year, but given your soft nature he never would have thought for a minute you could have ever believed in such things…you were too good for that

“Do you think less of me?” you reply to his silence, shame in your tone as you chew on your lip, pulling at blades of grass

As your eyes flick up meet his he shakes his head “No…if anything I think more of you” he gifts you a soft smile before reaching out to save the poor meadow from your anxiety riddled trimming, hand lingering on yours for a moment before he pulls back “It takes a strong person to admit something like that”

“I don’t know about strong…couldn’t save that bookcase last week” you giggle breathlessly, but behind it there’s a flash of something that shows your appreciation to his sentiment, much like Remus you also struggled to accept compliments or credit where it’s due…you were just maybe a little less grumpy about it

“You tried your best” he tells you with a chuckle…recalling how utterly bewildered you looked amidst the chaos of the chain reaction you had created while attempting to get one book before his expression drops once more “Do you want to continue? I’d like to hear more” he steers the conversation back gently and you seem thankful for it

“While my father was getting better, she wasn’t” you resume, voice dipping “Eventually she got so weak I had to finish the blanket she was making for the grandchild she never got the honour of meeting…” you sigh while you play with your fingerless gloves “…she made me these you know?” you look back up, lifting you hand slightly to show off them off

“I’m jealous” Remus holds up his own, showcasing his more than beaten gloves, hells they were practically falling apart

You giggle softly “I’ll make you some” it’s not an offer but a statement, one Remus has no intention of fighting, who was he to deny a gift from yourself “Any particular colour you would like?” you add

He thinks about it before his eyes fall on your gloves, their colour similar to the evergreen of the willows around you “Would you be mad if they matched yours” he asks cautiously, afraid of over stepping 

But your smile confirms he isn’t, if anything, he swears you shy away just a little at it, almost as if you’re flustered at the thought

“Not at all” you reply, voice softer than it’s ever been “I think she would have liked you. She certainly would have knitted you a matching jumper” 

“Maybe you could knit me one instead” he says before his brain can even process the words

That was way too…

“Sure!” you reply right away, elated at the idea “Your birthdays in March, right? The 10th?” you confirm, and Remus can only nod in return “I’ll surprise you with the colour for that one” you tell him

Remus’ lips quirk up, excitement bubbling in his stomach for next month before it softly subsides as he realises, he needs to know the end of Dorthey’s story, even if that means the loss of your happy smile for a short while

“How did it happen?” he doesn’t need to give you context, you know what he’s asking

“She seemed better one morning, she even got out of bed. In fact…it was the day she made me these” you gesture to the gloves once more and you smile at the memory, though it’s more of a bittersweet kind of smile “But…that evening she took a turn, nothing dramatic, she was just tired, cold…the medication had her talking to the air” you explain, waving “I like to think she was talking to her husband, like he was he one to grant her passage when she moved on, that they were together again…she was a bit of a romantic you see…so am I” you confess, and Remus takes note of it “Eventually she seemed aware of my presence and took my hand, then she smiled and fell asleep…she passed moments later…and that’s how I can see them” you nod to the beach

Remus remains silent for a moment, before reaching out and giving your shoulder a small squeeze “She sounds like a remarkable woman” 

“She was” you nod, smile playing on your lips before you turn your body towards him “I’m glad I got to tell you about her, but there was one other reason I brought you here”

“Yeah?” Remus’ eyes light up a little

“Mhm…the day after the last full moon…” you start and Remus’ eyebrows knit, unsure of where you’re going with this “…you confessed that when you seen me in there it made you worry that you had hurt me that night”

“I’m…ugh”

Remus lets out a shaky breath, he had been a bit harsh at first that morning, he told you that his friends put themselves in harms way enough and he didn’t need a klutz joining them. As soon as it left his lips, he regretted it, he had called you it before, but this time he had negative intent and he could tell it hurt you

“Love…I never…”

“Rem…I forgive you” you gently cut him off and it surprises him “Remus that morning you also told me that you worry one day that something much worse than a fractured wrist might happen, that you would do something magic couldn’t fix” you recount before gesturing to the shoreline “I thought maybe you could use this place whenever you felt that way… I found this place shortly after I was able to see them. Followed them here one night when I couldn’t sleep. It helps you know, to get away” you say forlornly

Later Remus would realise the thing you ran from was expectation, but tonight he nods slowly

“Do you really believe that?” he asks, voice mixed with hope and scepticism “That it could help?”

“I do” you confirm “I thought maybe it can help you shoo away those clouds that neither your friends nor…I…can’t” you say, but the last part is said slower, followed with a shy laugh, like you’re worried you’re implying you play a bigger part in his life than you actually do, and to that his hands reach out squeezing your own, hoping it’s enough to communicate that you are just as important as his friends, in fact you may be even more so one day…or perhaps tonight

Tears prick Remus’ eyes, threatening to spill as speaks again “I…I don’t know what else to say other than…thank you…for this…for everything” he nods his head around, trying his best to convey the deeps of his appreciation 

“You don’t have to say anything more than that” you assure him, letting him know you understand before flashing that smile of yours “Just enjoy the evening” you softly command

And he did, allowing silence to fall between you. For the first time in, well ever, Remus felt what most people must know as peace, allowing his mind to finally stop turning if just for a moment, letting him focus on other things rather that his own voice. The gentle rustle of leaves, soft hum of fireflies, the rocking waves upon the shore…your soft breaths, your steady heartbeat

He never wanted this moment to end

He lets himself look at you then, finding you smiling to yourself, eyes closed as you take in the moment

She is beautiful

He never takes his eyes off of you, a part of him hopes you catch him, hopes that this night is something more to you as it is to him, but the other knows when you look back, he’ll cower away like he always did. Remus knew he was selfish with you, his eyes lingered that little bit longer that they should, as did his touch, he always waited for either the last moment or for you to pull back…secretly hoping one day you wouldn’t

Your eyes open then, turning towards him “What?” you smile softly, head tilted

Remus shakes his head quickly “Nothing, thought there was a fly” he plays it off, returning to the view while quietly chastising himself in his head for the terrible lie

Coward

“Remus…” he flinches a little as your hand finds his “…look at me again”

He hesitates at first, but then you whisper the softest ‘please’ and he’s at your mercy, returning your gaze, eyes curious with a dash of hope or fear mixed in, he didn’t quite know which yet. 

You move to your knees and he finds himself doing the same to face you properly as your touch flows upwards, backs of your fingers grazing his cheek as you push some hair out of the way, your eyes darting between his own like you’re checking he’s comfortable with the new form of intimacy

“You’re the prettiest thing here you know” you say before your eyes flick down to his…lips? 

Your hands are soft, sure as they cup his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw ever so slightly as you test the waters further, sending shivers down his spine, heart pounding before…

“Remus can I kiss you?”

…it damn near stops

He genuinely didn’t know if this was reality anymore 

“You…” he lets out a shaky breath “…want to kiss me?” he swallows

His fingers itch with the urge to pull you closer, to feel certainty in your presence, your warmth, but he restrains himself, afraid of shattering the illusion

You nod, eyes never leaving his “Very much” you confirm “I have for a while” you confess and for the first time he notices the slight shake in your fingers, the glistening in your eyes, that not so tiny fear that you were hiding so well seeps through…the one where he rejects you 

But he would never

“Can I?” you ask one last time, voice barely a whisper

He doesn’t speak just gives you a hum that you hope can recognise as a yes, which you do, eyes widening a little in surprise before you lick your lips, slowly leaning in. As happy as Remus was, he doesn’t move, still scared this might not be real, that any movement will have him wake up in his dorm and that all this was just a cruel trick of his psyche. That is until your nose softly taps his own, before the plush of your lips find his. It’s tender, sweet, only lasting for a few fleeting moments before you pull away

As you do, he finally breaks free of his paralysis, chasing your lips a little before he watches your eyes flutter open, finding your smile is shy all of a sudden, like you used every ounce of your confidence to work up the courage to not only ask but kiss him and now it was all gone

Kiss her back you idiot!

Remus’(...or maybe Moony’s) thoughts drive him into action, leaning forward to cup your cheek before you can fully withdraw, admiring the way you head falls into it with such ease as he brings his lips close to yours, checking it’s something you want before he finally returns the kiss

It’s more passionate this time, lips moving in sync as his arms wrap around you, gently lifting and bringing you flush against him, while your hands snake around his neck and up into his hair. The warmth of your body seeps into his, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, it’s just you, him, and this garden. 

When he finally pulls back, you’re the one chasing him this time, sneaking one last kiss before your forehead rests on his “Did that actually just happen” he whispers panting gently 

“Afraid so” you giggle 

He lets his smile break free then, no more holding back “How terrible” he nudges his nose against yours

“Horrible really” you continue the joke before softly pecking his lips “Are you glad I interrupted your routine now?”

“Very” he whispers before capturing your lips again

End of Flashback

“What?” 

He’s snapped out of his daze, smiling wide as he leans forward and places a sweet yet firm kiss to your lips

“What was that for?” you wonder, taken aback by the sudden intimacy but not upset in the slightest

“Because you’re the prettiest thing here” 

Thank you for reading ♡

[apocalyqsc]

photoshoot tension

cw; divorced!jensen a. x personal assistant!reader—afab!reader, smut, slight mutual pinning, tension, reader imagines sex w jensen before it happens, arguing, drunk makeup sex, unprotected sex (wrap ‘fore u tap), oral (m! recipient), maybe breeeding kink, age gap (jensen is obviously in his fourties, reader is in their twenties), probably wrote the getting drunk wrong because I’ve never drank before so erm help, morning after.

author’s note; so ik he’s married but what’s better than if he was freshly divorced so uhm yeah, i actually love his wife so i hope they never get divorced but it’s the thought that counts </3

JENSEN under the white flashing lights just stirred up every emotion in you. but he’s just divorced—it’s a clean slate for him. and you can’t jump onto him as soon as it happens. though nobodies stopping you from making up scenarios of whatever you wanted.

to sex in an motel to his dressing room. their were a lot of places. but oh, scrub those thoughts away. quickly.

after the photoshoot, jensen had disappeared to his dressing room. your heart pounded in your chest, all the way to your ribs. you knocked on the door, his gruff reply telling you to come in. you slowly opened the door as you slipped in the room. “so tomorrow you have a day off—but sunday you have another photoshoot,” you rambled off. you weren’t really focusing on him (in fear the impounding thoughts of an inappropriate relationship with you and him would start back up).

“slow down.” jensen let out a soft huff. you had a strange habit to ramble off about plans, it gave you a unique character. but it could also be extremely annoying. that’s what jensen liked about you. it’s why he kept you around to begin with, well, whenever most people would go home. you’d stay. and he wouldn’t say anything “cancel sunday.” “but—” “cancel sunday, okay?” he stared at you sternly. he understood it was nudging towards valentine’s day, yeah—he knew. he just needed a break from all the chaos.

your breath hitched in frustration whenever you had to take the pen and cross out sunday. “you really shouldn’t cancel this photoshoot.” you muttered in yet again, more annoyance.

jensen rolled his eyes, “it’s fine.” you cut your eyes up at him, finally looking away from the calendar.

“no it’s not. it’s coming closer to valentine’s day and you need to give your fans something—i know you’ve been going through a divorce and all, but life sucks. you can’t cancel, it took me months to get the photoshoot booked.” you said, your annoyance rising. you weren’t sure if you meant it or not. but it was a ‘in the moment’ spur. that’s what made jensen upset. he wasn’t feeling very valentiney the month. out of all the months, he had to get divorced finalized in february.

he rolled his eyes, “well once you go through a divorce in february, you won’t be in the mood for cupid photoshoots.” he shoved off the chair he was sitting in, brushing past you. you let out a scoff as he left, obviously leaving. so in time being, the both of you were at an impasse, a deadlock. though neither of you liked that. not at all. not one bit. there were tensions left unsaid, more than just argument tension. built up, sexual, passion tension.

“jensen, you can’t leave without talking to me!” you huffed in annoyance. he very well could. he was a grown man. though his schedule was handled by a person who was half his age. he ran his fingers through his hair as he walked away. only stopping to cut an eye at you.

ՙ ૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა .

it was god knows what time, but you found jensen at a local bar, seemingly avoiding paparazzi. you took a seat beside him, muttering a soft apology. he gave you a court nod. he ordered for the bartender to bring out yet another beer for the ‘pretty girl’ quote his words. it was a good idea. not one bit. but you couldn’t just waste the beer. that’s, that’s not good for the environment.

yeah, not good for the environment at all. but the one thing you didn’t do was spewl out an apology to him. your ego was apparently a little to big to apologize. you brought the glass to your lips, the foam from the beer collection on your upper lip. almost giving you a better mustache than jensen. jensen couldn’t help but let out a little snort, swiping his thumb across your upper lip, without warning. your breath hitched softly before pulling away from his thumb. “thanks. for the uhm beer.” you muttered, only making jensen grin deviously.

shy thing you were when it came to physical contact. “your welcome angel.” jensen whispered hoarsely as he brought his glass to his lips. “so, what’ve you been doing?” he asked you. their wasn’t much of a conversation to have with your personal assistant whenever they spent the whole day around you. so he knows what you’ve been doing. keeping him in line.

“oh nothin’ much” you slurred. “jus’ gettin’ li’l drunk now.” jensen cracked a smile, his hand finding the small of your back. it was a subtle movement, but an intimate one, at that. the soft smile from your lips almost—almost dropped into a derpy little grin. a drunk grin.

“oh yeah?” he mused with a grin a he took a gulp from his glass. “hope that works well for you.” you were definitely a little buzzed at this point, the way you were being so open to him is something you’d never do if you were fully sober. you shot a soft smile before going back to your drinking. from what he could tell, you were a lightweight, “don’t drink to much, ya need to be in the right mind to leave, don’tcha?”

“yeah.” you huffed, “but ‘t’s jus’ to good to leave unattended.” jensen much rather hang out with his personal assistant drunk than sober. god, sometimes you were a complete headache. he sent a soft smile your way as you kept drinking. though it was a few moments later, you were snagging your keys off the bar.

“leavin’ me so soon sweetheart?” he cocked his head at you. you were to fun to leave, “at least let me get you an uber, better yet, let me take you home.” you nodded, slapping your keys in his hand. you got up, and he followed after. you looked like an absolute angel drunk, especially under the bars flashing sign. but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. “now, which one is your car.”

you waved your finger in his face before landing it on a pretty black suv. “that one.” he placed his hand on your back, listening to your drunken rambling. again, total drunk angel. he unlocked the car, opening the passenger door for you. he stood behind you, making sure you didn’t fall onto your ass. jensen propped himself against the seat, reaching across to buckle you up. when he pulled away, your face had morphed into a little grin, and you burst out into little giggles. like a schoolgirl. it was adorable, really it was.

jensen walked around to the driver side. as he climbed into the car, turning the car on—it tumbled to life. you had slumped in your seat, getting a little shut eye time. when he drove to your house, the lights from the city’s lamp lights steady and slowly flashed by, jensen squinting every so slightly under the surprise of each light. he let out a soft breath, his gaze going over to you every so often.

he pulled into a place he new best; a motel. he wasn’t completely sure where you lived, nor did he want to take you to his place and have you gasp awake in fear that you got kidnapped. jensen turned the car off, getting out and walking to your side.

jensen tugged your body out the car. when he shut the door, you opened your eyes. “put me down,” you huffed drunkenly. though he wasn’t one to deny any one of anything, so he slowly placed you on your feet. you pressed yourself against him when you almost fell, staring up at him. it felt like a romance movie. but you were both a little buzzed. at least you were now a little bit buzzed from the effects of the drinking. jensen held you against his body, hands going to your hips.

he guided you inside, where he immediately walked to the clerk at the front desk. “hi. can i get a room, for me ‘n the pretty angel?” jensen said smoothly. the clerk looked up—not at all amused, not phased by jensen’s flirty behavior. she didn’t even take a double look at him, not noticing that he was literally -jensen-freaking-ackles.

he grabbed the keys from the clerk and guided you down to the room of the number on the key. jensen guided you in the room, and before the door was even shut, you were pressing your lips on his. “hey,” he let out soft breath, as he held your shoulders, pushing you away. “your drunk.” jensen brushed your hair with his fingers, guiding you to your bed.

you looked at him with puppy dog eyes, “please?” you let out a soft whine. he didn’t want to deny you. like, just look at that face. he let out a huff as he grabbed your hips, pulling you on top of him. you slowly grinded your clothed hip on his—immediately drawing a reaction from him from the motion. he shouldn’t have been doing this. maybe the beer was clouding his judgment. but, god damn did it feel good. “shit—careful” he said, grabbing a hold of your waist to stop you. jensen’s breath was warm—and already panting. he slowly lifted your hips to tug your pants down. he pulled them off your ankles, tossing them onto the floor. jensen ran his fingers along the pattern of your white floral lace. he pulled them off your body, carefully as they guided down your freshly shaved legs. his breath shuddered at the sight of your bare cunt on view to him. he sat up to guide your shirt off your body. and with years of practicing, used one hand to fall back to your bra clip—and unclipped it.

your breathing picked up as you fell to jensen’s pants, you pulled the button through the hole, pushing his pants down. following his boxers. as you pushed the items off him, you followed. you stopped at his cock—kissing it to life. your breath wavered at the sight of it as it sprung to life. you wrapped your hands around the base, licking the tip. testing the waters before you sunk your head around his erected member. you bobbed your head up and down on his member.

jensen’s hand came to make a makeshift ponytail out of your hair—guiding you up and down. jensen let out a noise slip through his lip, almost whimeper-y like, but a moan. you let out a muted gag, your hands falling away from the base of his member. “fu—mmh—ck!” you cried out. tears built up at your waterline. not in pain, but pleasure. he pulled your head up when he neared release.

“wanna do it in you—” jensen breathed breathlessly, “need’ya to be full of my come.”

you nodded softly. “m’kay.” you huffed out breathlessly—pulling yourself up. you sunk down onto his memeber, your head lolling backwards. letting out a soft moan. jensen held your hips in a vise as he guided you up and down on him, one of his hands shifting to rub your cunt in slow, soft circles. you walls clenched around him, the bed hit the wall ever so often. “jensen—ah—to big!”

jensen hummed, pulling your hair gently. “but your doin’ so good my angel.” he placed his hand back on your hip as the bounces started getting sloppy. “not to sloppy.” he drew his hand away from your cunt going to brush the hair out of your face. the way your face scrunched up—jensen let out soft grunts that were lower than your moans. with your head lolled back, mouth open, it tempted jensen. his thumb seemed towards your mouth. your moans got cut off by a gagging noise. his thumb had worked it’s way into your mouth. you bit down on his finger—but not to hardly.

jensen grinned when he felt you bit down “don’t hurt me angel.” he muttered softly.

the rain started up outside, it pitter-y patter-yied against the window and roof. the bed springs constantly screamed in protest under the movement. muffled noises of people talking came from the other rooms—and likewise, they heard the commotion located in three thirty-seven. occasionally a grumpy man would bang against the wall for the two of you to stop, but it never deterred the either of you.

with each bounce, with each muffled moan, with each grunt—both you and jensen neared closer to release. your walls clenched around him like clockwork. “come. come on my cock—c’mon.” he hummed, his hand on your hip, burning intentions into your skin, the same thumb rubbing circles on your hips. his other hand still in your mouth. and almost—in synch, like the command of you coming struck something in the both of you. jensen painted your gummy pink walls white, and your came around his cock.

you collapsed beside him, his limp member slipping out of you as you shifted off him. you kissed his chest sleepily. slowly falling asleep his seed warmed you right up. you closed your eyes—and fell asleep. but not jensen. he pulled you into his arms. and maybe he was regretting it. regretting it so terribly; you where his personal assistance. although guilt would have to wait til later—maybe at twelve pm tomorrow. but now, you two slept. you slept off the soreness of the sex.

when you woke up, the outside world was unaware of what had happened that night. completely unware that a freshly divorce actor had got it off with his personal assistant. the sun fought against the fog as it poured through the curtain, and jensen was in the shower.

you walked to the bathroom, opening the door. with a sleepy voice, you asked “got room for one more.” jensen pulled the curtain back, inviting you under the shower hose with him. the water acting a soothing mechanism. jensen used the motel soap—and a motel rag to clean your body off. you looked up at him with a soft—almost devious smile as you whispered a soft “thank you.” and maybe that was for last night—and maybe that was for him washing you. it was really to be interpreted anyway he preferred.

in a shaky breath, he whispered back an audible “your welcome” as he stared down your soapy body. jensen pressed his lips against yours, the rag dropping to the bathroom floor. when you pulled away, you both had a smile on your face. though the neither of you knew what this meant to your relationship. was it going to happen again? meant to be? or just a drunken mistake? you didn’t know. jensen didn’t know. but it sure as hell had some remarkable sex in it.

[blondrafe]

A lil valentines thing for my pretties while I drive home !!

cw; nothing really just kissing and a special ending. 😌

valentines day with rafe would be the best day you’ve ever experienced, with rafe showering you in kisses and making sure you were all pampered and pretty. He treated you to breakfast in bed, having gotten up extra early just so he could start the day off right for you.

Then afterward, he took you to the mainland. He told you to go pick out the prettiest outfit you saw, and he bought the whole thousand pound outfit you chose. He then took you to get your hair and nails done, paying for each treatment like it was nothing. He wanted his girl looking stunning, after all this was the day of love right?

It had been the sweetest day so far, and it was only getting sweeter. He took you to the cats protection centre, letting you hold and look at all the cats. You were over the moon, cuddling each cat and giving them kisses and treats. He stared at you in awe from afar, knowing how big of a heart you had for kitties.

After that, it was dinner. He took you to a fancy restaurant that had your favourite meal, and treated you to everything you wanted on the menu. You two talked and talked, and rafe just looked at you so lovingly the whole time.

And after that, it was around seven thirty. Perfect time for the valentines fireworks display. So you two made your way down to the little field it was being held on. The night had been perfect, and it was only going to get better.

It had started and you and rafe were holding each other close, rafe draping his jacket over your shoulders as the night grew chillier. He placed a soft kiss to your temple and made sure you were focused on the fireworks as he reached into his back pocket.

He got down on one knee, grabbing a small little black box. He tapped your shoulder, watching as shocked and love formed into your eyes as you seen him knelt before you. “No way.” You whispered, your hand coming to cover your gaping mouth.

Rafe smiled, nodding his head. “Y/n, y/l/n. I have loved you since the moment I layed eyes on you. I knew you were the one when you stayed with me throughout my addiction, and helped me get sober. When you stayed by me, I felt seen. I felt like a real man and I felt whole.” He began, watching tears brim in your eyes.

A few people started recording, smiles on their faces. “Your the most stunning girl I’ve ever met, and im more than grateful to have you. When I made you my girlfriend, I thought I had it all. But now, I realise I need to make you my wife. Y/n, will you marry me?”

The tears fell hot down your face as you nodded, repeating the word yes like a whispered prayer. Rafe grabbed your hand, placing the most beautiful ring on your finger. He stood up, smiling as he planted a sweet and tender kiss to your lips. Everyone around was awing, enjoying the moment just as much as you two.

This was the most perfect valentines day you could ever ask for

Happy valentines my little angels, I love you all so much and give everyone a big fat smooch! Hugs n kisses to all 🤍

[salsakiyoomi]

nanami kento is a very tired, very overworked man.

that's probably fair though, he thinks. maybe if he hadn't been such a workaholic and maybe if didn't spend so much time at the office, he'd be better off.

but no, his boss is a dick and gojo requires nanami's constant eye on him, not to mention the absurd amount of missions he has been on lately.

but then comes the leisure of the sacred saturday — finally, a day off in his hectic life.

although it's not technically saturday yet, it's close to it given it's eleven thirty on a friday night when he finally comes home.

nanami lets out a loud sigh as he enters his apartment, already loosening his tie as he takes his shoes off.

god, he's so tired, all he can think about right now is the comfort of his bed and how nice either would feel just to lay and sleep in it.

his thoughts are cut off by the soft pitter patter of feet and then he's greeted by you coming out of the bedroom, in nothing but a nightgown and messy hair, rubbing your eyes as if you've just been awoken.

“kento?” yoh murmur, looking at him with sleepy eyes.

“sweetheart.” he smiles — of course he wasn't only thinking about the comforts of his bed, but also the solace of finally being in his dear wife's arms.

“did i wake you up?” he asks softly as you take a few steps towards him, before you wrap your arms around his neck.

“mmm.” you hum in response, and he isn't sure whether it's a yes or no, nevertheless, he doesn't press on.

“are you going to come to bed?” you ask sleepily, resting your head against his chest and his hands find their way to your hips.

“of course,” he says, “i was just making my way there.”

“good.” you hum, already falling asleep on your feet.

nanami chuckles, before wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you to the bedroom, “i think you need that sleep more than i do, sweetheart.”

“mmm.” you hum, your eyes shut as he carefully lays you in bed, before placing a kiss to your forehead.

god, he loved moments like these.

but a part of him always felt guilty for keeping you waiting for so long, his long hours at the office are equally as dull as yours when you're doing nothing but waiting for him to come home.

“kento.” you coo sleepily as he changes into his clothes, he hums in response.

“don't keep me waiting.” you say, before you finally drift off to sleep, snoring softly.

nanami looks at you for a moment, a fond smile on his face as he pulls his shirt over his head.

he makes a mental note to himself to lessen his hours at the office and get gojo off his ass, and he promises,

“i won't, sweetheart.”

[akashirl]

valentine's post !! ♡

from the moment i saw you, i knew i'd be destined to a life full of love -- forever. from the moment my eyes met yours, your first pass, our first game together...it was magical. i was a kid, that much is true, and you can argue saying that children can't comprehend the depth of love. i'm not sure i did at the time, but the heaviness in my chest was never taken lightly.

captain, you have touched me with such profoundness than i ever thought you could. we've been through hell together, you were there for me at my lowest even though i was too consumed to see it, you have always been there. your presence never became an absence in my eyes.

i know that we're destined to be apart due to the events life has prepared for us, but i do not mind. just being with you right now is enough to light up my heavy soul. you may not be real. i may not be real. life might be a simulation and yet, you're the realest feeling, the softest touch, the sun behind the clouds.

you may feel unworthy of affection due to how your past has treated you. you may not even understand why; hell, sei, questioning it may not be enough for you but just know that i love you for who you are. i love you for the person i become when you're near. i love you, i have loved you and i will love you until the end of time. the red string attached to our hearts is conceived from iron.

i adore every single detail of yours. when i catch you looking at me, your light smile, your breathtaking eyes, your soft but firm touch...from your hair to your toes, what is there not to love? and how could i not adore you? the way you keep me in line when i'm not at my best. the way you take care of me when i'm at my worst. you push me to do better, motivate me everyday...more than just a lover, you're a role model to me. i look up to you more than anything in this world.

i have loved you more, but so much more than i have found a way to tell you. and even though i like to believe that you were the one who found me, i know that the truth is that we found eachother. be it in our moments of weakness, happiness, loneliness...my care for you is eternal. my heart is at your service.

a person is like a canvas. mine was completely blank until we met. every moment with you is a brushstroke -- and even when you think the painting is complete, it keeps evolving. with every sunrise, i feel myself lost in your crimson eyes, brighter than the sun, deeper than the moon. i wouldn't trade the goosebumps i get for anything in the world.

well, being with you feels like winning the lottery every single day. not that money could ever compare to the happiness you bring to me, but it may be easier to understand if i put it that way. quoting edward cullen (cringe, i know), « you're like my own personal brand of heroin ». i've grown completely addicted to you, to your eyes, to your lips, to your smile, to your gentle mannerism and your way of getting things done. it's not our fault that life has other events in store for us. we may not even talk in a few decades, as you'll carve a path of success ahead of you and i seem like an unlikely ingredient to the mix. i just hope that in the future, even when you have a wife and kids, you think of how happy we were in high school. i hope you think a little bit of me everyday; and i pray it doesn't destroy you. just know that wherever you are, i will be thinking of you. and whenever you need me, i will be no further than a single call away.

seijuro akashi, you are my own true love. even before we met, my heart missed you. looking into your eyes is reflecting my happiness...our story doesn't have to be perfect -- it doesn't need a happy ending. what matters is that you're here, now, and so am i; and what we feel is pure and true. sometimes, i feel as if i started loving you even before existing...perhaps we came from the same shooting star.

« you are my true north. the pull of my heart's compass always points to you. » and i will keep following you, as your shadow, wherever you go. i know that under that thick façade, you're yearning for love just as much as i am. and trust me, i will make you feel it every single day by your side.

and if we can't be together in this life, i will wait for our next one. and the one next. all the lives ahead of me, i will be looking for my favorite redhead. i see your smile in houses, trees, people, books...everywhere i go, i am intoxicated by your tenderness. isn't it beautiful how a single person can change your whole entire life? or rather, give that monotone life the color it needed?

sei, you are my person. you will always be my person. being your valentine is an honor i am delighted to have. just let me love you, alright?

i know i said i only had two drawings ready but turns out i had three. oh well.

🏀 | my henchmen: @pigeonbksimp @pinkreveluv6 @ilovemaiubo @japeneselunchtimerush @sweijuro @fl0ralsxgar

event by @strawbeaniie !!

happy valentine's day to all!!

[seitmai]

Ahh so many thoughts

“I’m not going back on what I said, Steve. If you ask me, I’m ready.” Steve couldn’t believe his luck. “How much is that promise worth to you, Peach? Because when I make a promise, I keep it.”

“Well, I need you to trust me. And I need to ask you a question." “Understood.” Steve kneeled at the side of the bed, those eyes focused on you. He looked like a little boy. And then he asked you a very grown up question.

Ahhh I love the comparison of him looking like a little boy asking a grown up question 😍

“This place is… it’s amazing, Steve. I can’t believe we just did that.” “More amazing now that you’re here. And you better believe it.”

🥰🥰🥰

“I have something for you…a wedding gift”

Wedding gift? Have I missed something lmao?

“That’s what we are. It’s what you do for me. Make me want to be a better man.” You exhaled, your lips parting slightly as you turned around in his arms. “Steve. You are a good man. You’re just doing things in a slightly unconventional way. You’re talking to the queen of unconventional. Remember where we met?”

Haha fair

“You’ve been hanging around Bucky too long.” Steve chuckled, tilting your chin up with a knuckle. He was happy. “You’re right. But anyway, the necklace is for tomorrow, I mean the Gala tonight. Something to remind you that no matter who else is in the room... you’re my wife."

Ahhh i can't with them

"You have a dance studio?" "You have a dance studio," he corrected.  "I arranged for it to be started while we were in Hilton Head and it was just finished yesterday. I wanted you to have a place to move. To feel free while you’re in Brooklyn."

He knew right away what he wants and went the extra mile before being sure it would work

You went to the pole and grabbed it and leaned out, checking it. It was sturdy and conditioned. You twirled a little and came to rest, the pole between the ass cheeks of your leggings. Steve’s look became hungry, and his cock jumped in his sweats. If he was thinking of sleep earlier, he was wide awake now.  And some parts of him were more awake than others. 

🤭🤭🤭

“So… you had a dance studio built, for me, while we were in Hilton Head? Me, a woman who was threatening your life?”

Iconic behavior of both of them hahah

“No touching unless I give permission. That’s the rule in Peach’s Parlor.” Steve cocked his head, grinning now. “Peach’s Parlor? So you like it? You taking ownership of the place?”

Duhh she's taking ownership

He was putting the cart before the horse, but he wanted to be your baby daddy so bad. He head was in the clouds as you hooked one leg around the pole, arching your back as you slid downward in a controlled descent, your body moving with the music, sensual and confident. 

This is literally not putting the cart before the horse for those two 😅 after this wedding that apparently happened, her already being pregnant would not be out of the ordinary, like true to them they should already have a three year old or something, talking about unconventional 😂

Steve almost got lost there, but when you whispered, “Good boy,” he forgot how to breathe. He didn't know he liked that. but the fact that you'd guessed it made you even more perfect for him. 

🤭🤭🤭

“Fuck, Peach… You trying to kill me?” Steve murmured, his voice low and rough. “We just got married.” “How is it you married me, and I hadn’t even sucked your cock yet?” Steve chuckled and then got serious. “Must be true love.”

Must be 🤷🏻‍♀️🤭

When he saw that you were going to kneel, he quickly moved a pillow from the chaise for you to settle in front of him. He then lifted his hips from the couch and pulled down his sweats and boxers in one move.

Thoughtful and ready to go at once

Inspired, you took him as far as you could, until your lips were stretched to the limit and tears coursed down your face. You inhaled the musky scent of him in the hair at the base of his cock and looked back up to watch his contracting abs and heaving chest, his open mouth and those mesmerizing eyes. This was a fucking beautiful man.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

“You’re a fucking goddess. Wanna cum down your throat, Peach, but don’t swallow our kids. Need ‘em inside you.”

Someone is really eager to be a dad👀

“Can’t waste a drop.” “You are filthy slut, Mr. Rogers.” He laughed. “Only for you, Mrs. Rogers.”

They are a perfect match 🤭 

"This isn’t a race. I’m never gonna be jealous of you, girl.” You grinned back. “I’m pissed that I wasn’t able to be there, though.” You sighed. Your one regret.

Valid

“Because when I’m with him, it makes sense. The way he looks at me, the way he is with me—it doesn’t feel rushed. It just feels… right.”

🥹🥹🥹

“I know you think that I feel some kind of way, but I know you girl. I was shocked, but not surprised..” She laughed and you shook your head. “Running off and getting married is so you. It’s so Steve too when you think about it.”

She's like: bitch, I saw this one coming 😂

“You’re right,” she replied. I’m secure. It will happen. And just at the right time for us. And no matter what, Peach. You are never gonna lose me as your biggest fan, no matter what.”

I'm sure the wait won't be long 🤭

You hugged each other so hard, the stylists had to touch you back up.

I'm sure it was a great, much needed hug 🫶🏻

“No comment?” Steve exhaled, stepping closer, his voice rough around the edges. “You already know, Mrs. Rogers.”

👀👀👀

“You know if you keep giving me gifts like this, you’re going to spoil me.” His eyes darkened, and his hand came to rest on your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. “That’s the plan,” he murmured, voice low, “Mrs. Rogers.”

He is ready to spoil her rotten

"You're going to get enough of watching us like a drama." "Never. You two are my favorite romcom."

Fair haha

Sharon was clearly not happy, but fuck that bitch.

Period!

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Steve tactfully removed his arm from her grasp while the fingers on his other hand reached for you and rested low on your back, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate circle against the sequined fabric of your gown. “It’s been two days, Sharon,” he replied, his tone clipped. And annoyed.

I can feel Steve rolling his eyes haha

Your cousin and Bucky moved closer, probably because she clocked what was going on.

They are ready for the drama 😂🤭

“You know what’s really refreshing, Sharon? Watching a woman who wants to fuck around with me and my family and find out.”

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Bucky stepped forward as Sharon’s jaw twitched into a twisted smile. Bucky whispered in your cousin's ear. She glared at him and started taking off her jewelry, handing her earrings to him. Bucky shook his head and pulled her to the side while she gave him the business.

Hahaha was she getting ready to throw some punches??

Steve pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, not bothering to lower his voice when he said, “I’ll remind you how much I love that later.” Your cousin groaned dramatically. “You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.”

“Do you think calling me a stripper is an insult?” Your voice was strong and steady. “I own what I do. I’m damn good at what I do. And you?”  You looked her up and down, eyebrow deadly. “You’re standing here, burning because even with your family ties, and your desperate little designer dress, the only woman Steve wants is me. He married me.” You leaned in even closer. “The difference between us? I don’t have to chase him. I just have to walk into a room.” You smiled at her sweetly. “And he follows.”

The way I screamed reading this 👏🏻

🤭🤭🤭

Peach VII

Peach VI | Peach VIII

Summary: Steven Grant Rogers is a mob boss trying to get clean. It’s definitely because he’s in love. With you. He's got you on his turf in NYC. Do you leave there single or a married woman?

Pairing: Art Dealer/Artist/Philanthopist (Mob Boss) Steve Rogers x Reader (Peach)

A/N: I have all of the words and none of the confidence. Oh I hope you like it. It may not be everyone's cup of tea. This is part one of the Valentine's weekend bundle. I hope you like it. Let me know my LOVEs! ❤️

This fic is connected to the Bucky Barnes Knock You Down AU, and DIRECTLY AFTER the events in Peach VI. Your interaction keeps me writing, so let me know if you like it by commenting and reblogging.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT. Read at your own risk. Steve Rogers is rich, bitches!, the big one bling, the event! stripping, pole dancing, lap dancing, sloppy blow job, is this Subby!Steve? woman on top, nipple play (m receiving), size kink, definite breeding kink, raw p in v, a lil bit of cum play. Family feeeelings, Bucky being Bucky, Steve being a simp, jealous bitches, almost catching a case at a gala.

Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I don't have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

--------

“If you ask me, I’m ready…”

“Is that what you want?” Steve said as his hands gripped your waist.

You couldn't look away from his eyes which were deeply searching yours.

When you moved your hand to his chest, his heart thudded through the muscle and the bone to your fingertips.

You nodded and marveled at how far you both had come in such a short amount of time.

You were sure.

“I’m not going back on what I said, Steve. If you ask me, I’m ready.”

Steve couldn’t believe his luck.

“How much is that promise worth to you, Peach? Because when I make a promise, I keep it.”

His beautiful deep velvet voice had you swooning in his arms. 

“Everything. It’s worth everything, Steve.”

It was unthinkable what you were feeling. But it was oh so right.

Steve’s look was so serious for a moment and then he kissed you again. He flipped you over, torso pinning yours down, abs between your legs. You whined with need as he kissed you, tenderly, his fingers tracing your face.

Then he pulled away.

“Get dressed, Peach.”

“What?

“Get dressed. Pack up. You’re checking out of the hotel.'

You looked at him and cocked your eyebrow.

“Oh. Am I?”

Steve chuckled at your sass. It was so cute. Then he pulled you close and whispered in your ear.

“Yes. You are. Remember I said that I was going to give you what you need, when you need it?”

You shivered at the way Steve handled you.

“Yes, Mr. Rogers.”

“Well, I need you to trust me. And I need to ask you a question."

“Understood.”

Steve kneeled at the side of the bed, those eyes focused on you. He looked like a little boy.

And then he asked you a very grown up question.

The elevator doors slid open to reveal the corridor to Steve’s penthouse at the top of the Rebirth building. There were two doors on the entire hallway, both mirroring each other. 

Steve walked beside you to one of the entrances, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back, a touch both casual and possessive. 

Your mouth dropped open when the door opened on floor-to-ceiling windows framing the Manhattan skyline. 

The view went on forever.

"Jesus, Steve. This is… Beautiful!"

Your eyes shone as you turned in a circle to take in the room.

"Wait until you see the rest."

You were wandering now, your fingertips trailing over the sleek countertops, the rich leather of his couch, and the curated artwork lining the walls. Everything about the space was sophisticated, masculine, Steve.

You wondered how you could lend your touch.

Steve had gone into another room, his bedroom, you imagined, to put your things down. He came up behind you as you stared out of the window, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kissed your neck as you leaned your head back on his chest.

“This place is… it’s amazing, Steve. I can’t believe we just did that.”

“More amazing now that you’re here. And you better believe it.”

“I have something for you…a wedding gift”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, bringing it in front of you. 

The diamonds on your hand glittered and caught your eye as you reached to touch what was inside. It was a necklace with double diamond solitaires, one cushion cut and one pear shaped, nestled side by side on a thin, gleaming chain.

A moi et toi design.

To match your ring.

You blinked up at him, craning your neck to look him in the eye. He pecked you on the lips.

“Steve…”

He reached out, and plucked the necklace from the box. His fingers brushed the nape of your neck as he draped it around you.

“Moi et toi,” he murmured near your ear. “Me and you.”

You swallowed, your fingers rising to touch the stones on your skin as you gazed out on the city. 

“It’s beautiful.”

“Two stones side by side; one strengthens the other.” 

His thumb brushed over your collarbone, tracing the edge of the necklace. 

“That’s what we are. It’s what you do for me. Make me want to be a better man.”

You exhaled, your lips parting slightly as you turned around in his arms.

“Steve. You are a good man. You’re just doing things in a slightly unconventional way. You’re talking to the queen of unconventional. Remember where we met?”

There you were, being adorable again. The way you’d fought him up until this week made Steve stand in disbelief at how accepting you were of him. And how easily you’d run off with him to Connecticut tonight to become his wife. 

It was crazy, but it was so right.

“I do. I seem to recall meeting you in heaven, because all I remember thinking is ‘who is this angel.’”  

You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“You’ve been hanging around Bucky too long.”

Steve chuckled, tilting your chin up with a knuckle. He was happy.

“You’re right. But anyway, the necklace is for tomorrow, I mean the Gala tonight. Something to remind you that no matter who else is in the room... you’re my wife."

You swallowed at the octave drop in Steve’s voice and he traced your throat with his thumb as you did it. Steve gathered you to him, pressing his lips to your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered into your ear.

“Come with me, there’s something else I want to show you. " 

He grabbed your hand and led you down a hallway. 

You followed until he stopped and turned to you with a mischievous grin. Then, he opened the door behind his back and backed in so he could watch your face. Curious, you followed him inside. 

Then you froze. 

It was a good sized space. Mirrors lined one entire wall, reflecting the soft glow of LED track lighting. You stepped out on the wood floor and realized that it was made from premium materials.

But what really caught your attention was the sleek, stainless-steel pole standing tall in the center of the room. You turned slowly, meeting Steve's expectant gaze. 

"You have a dance studio?" 

"You have a dance studio," he corrected. 

"I arranged for it to be started while we were in Hilton Head and it was just finished yesterday. I wanted you to have a place to move. To feel free while you’re in Brooklyn."

You went to the pole and grabbed it and leaned out, checking it. It was sturdy and conditioned. You twirled a little and came to rest, the pole between the ass cheeks of your leggings. 

Steve’s look became hungry, and his cock jumped in his sweats. If he was thinking of sleep earlier, he was wide awake now. 

And some parts of him were more awake than others. 

“So… you had a dance studio built, for me, while we were in Hilton Head? Me, a woman who was threatening your life?”

The way you smiled at him made Steve’s heart flutter. He nodded and came close and tried to kiss you, but you twirled away from him to the other side of the pole. He flashed you a smile and your butterflies started up again.

“It was right after you threatened to shoot my balls off. I knew you had it bad.”

Steve sighed as if he was nostalgic for your death threats. You laughed as Steve grabbed for you again.

You scooted away from him.

“Don’t touch, Mr. Rogers,” you admonished as your finger wagged in front of those lips. 

Then you pointed, and Steve followed your hand as if mesmerized. He was the one who had it bad.

“Why don’t you sit down so I can test this thing out? Haven’t had a proper dance workout all week.”

Steve nodded and went to sit down on the chaise lounge in the corner of the room.

You stepped forward, and your pulse quickened as you held Steve’s gaze. He leaned back against the back of the chaise, arms crossed over his broad chest, and his t-shirt straining across his shoulders, biceps, and chest.

His blue eyes were focused with an intensity that sent a shiver through your body.

"Music?" you prompted. 

Steve smirked and tapped his phone. A pulsating beat filled the room, the bass vibrating beneath your feet, and causing your hips to sway. You didn’t have your heels and you were in loungewear, but one of those things was to your advantage.

You grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, teasing a glimpse of your skin as you swayed to the music.

Steve’s eyes darkened and his breath visibly slowed.

You took your time, dragging the cotton up your body as you shimmied, baring the skin of your stomach, then your bra, then your collarbones as your head was hidden for half a second.

You winked when you emerged and you moved closer as you leaned over him and placed your garment on the lounge next to him.

Steve didn’t move. Didn’t blink. But his jaw clenched, and you didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed at his sides.

Then, you turned around, hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your leggings and looked over your shoulder to find him staring at your ass and licking his lips. Steve looked up at you, his blue eyes burning now as you smirked at him and peeled the black material down to reveal your flesh, in black lace, bent fully at the waist. 

Steve’s hands twitched for want of reaching out. He exhaled sharply, restraint hanging by a thread.

You straightened up slowly, twerking and slapping your own ass, holding a cheek so that he could see the lace-clothed split of you. You shot him a saucy wink as you stepped out of your clothing, pushing it aside with the tip of your toe before slowly running your hands down your body. 

You brought your hands up to your face, sliding them down your neck to your chest, then your sides, letting your fingers skim over your ribs, down your stomach, then back up, skirting along your bra and pulling your nipples through the fabric. 

Steve made a low sound in his throat, his control cracking.

It was just as he decided to reach out to touch you that you walked toward the pole on tip toes, the only way you knew how to do it. 

“No touching unless I give permission. That’s the rule in Peach’s Parlor.”

Steve cocked his head, grinning now.

“Peach’s Parlor? So you like it? You taking ownership of the place?”

He was proud that you seemed pleased. You smiled back at him in response, exhaling and letting the rhythm take you.

You started with a slow walk around the pole, each step deliberate, your hips swaying just enough to raise the temperature of his blood degree by degree. 

His smile dropped and his jaw tightened, but he didn’t move, his restraint evident in every rigid line of his body as his eyes followed your every move

You reached up, gripping the pole above your head, then lifted yourself effortlessly, letting momentum carry you into a slow spin. The world blurred for a moment, the mirrors reflecting your every movement as you let your legs extend, toes pointed, body fluid. 

The way you moved was unhurried, deliberate, and so alluring. Steve sighed and bent his head to the side, taking you in. Then he bit his lip, remembering how you felt around him earlier. You felt so fucking good, your sweet, hot pussy pulsing around him.

He was putting the cart before the horse, but he wanted to be your baby daddy so bad. He head was in the clouds as you hooked one leg around the pole, arching your back as you slid downward in a controlled descent, your body moving with the music, sensual and confident. 

The way your muscles flexed and relaxed, the roll of your hips was mesmerizingly beautiful. You were performing your art for Steve, moving for his pleasure. 

But you were in control. 

And it made Steve remember that this is what it was that made him fall for you in the first place. Damn, he wanted you, and even though you were only steps away, it was driving him crazy. 

When you reached the floor, you dropped to your knees, your thighs spread, fingers skimming down your skin as you stared at him.

Steve rubbed his hands on his pants to ease the itch of his fingers wanting to grasp you.

You stood and grabbed the pole once more, swinging around in another smooth, effortless climb. You wrapped your legs around the metal, suspended for a moment, before twisting into an elegant descent, your body brushing against the pole in a way that made Steve’s balls ache.

When you landed, you moved toward him on tiptoe again, all legs and glistening body, hips swaying, eyes locked onto his.

Steve only moved to put his hands on the back of the lounge, but other than that he was still.

In a graceful move, you straddled him carefully, knees on either side of his slim hips. You were close enough for him to feel your warmth, but were barely touching him. The heat coming from your core made him feral and his eyes were drawn downward to the source.

You felt a tremendous power, so you reached for his chin and tilted it up so he could look into your eyes. 

Steve almost got lost there, but when you whispered, “Good boy,” he forgot how to breathe. He didn't know he liked that. but the fact that you'd guessed it made you even more perfect for him. 

He covered a whimper by clearing his throat. A secret smile was on your lips as you slowly rolled your hips and arched your back, your nipples barely grazing his chest. 

Steve's eyes were everywhere, watching everything, especially your tits, which were so hard and beautiful through the lace.

He felt like if he could just to suck them for a minute, everything in the world would be alright.

A minute each. 

Maybe an hour.

Steve's breath was hot against your skin, but he still hadn’t touched you. His grip on the chaise tightened, his control hanging by a thread.

You ran your fingers down your body before leaning backward and grazing his thighs and it was just enough to plan out the pattern of his skeet along your skin. He was sure, with practice, he could spell out his name.

In one fluid movement, you turned around, pressing your back to his chest, and, lightly, so lightly, too lightly, ground against his rigid cock with slow, deliberate precision.

Steve felt delirious and close to expiring.

“Fuck, Peach… You trying to kill me?” Steve murmured, his voice low and rough. “We just got married.”

Married!

You looked over your shoulder at him and moved your lips close to his, smiling as you saw the muscles in his corded neck tense.  You leaned in, your lips hovering near his ear.

“You're so good for me Stevie… Such a good... big... boy.”

You twerked the last three words in his lap, causing him to exhale sharply and his hands to twitch. You arched, rolling your body against his again. 

And then.

Finally, finally, you let yourself sink into his lap, pressing fully against his cock. He could feel your moist pussy lips through layers of fabric.

And that’s when Steve’s restraint snapped.

His hands shot to your waist, gripping hard, his fingers digging into your skin. You leaned back and his lips found your shoulder, his breath uneven.

You smirked and turned around, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer beneath your touch.

Steve crashed his mouth to yours, swallowing your laughter in a kiss that was deep and desperate. His hands roamed your body, tracing lace, his need evident in every touch.

“My sweet Peach. Mrs. Rogers,” he growled against your skin, voice thick with hunger.

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to make his head tilt back.

“Yesss. Say Heyyyy, Mrs. Rogers…,” you teased.

One hand clasped his throat, squeezing his Adam's apple lightly as his blue eyes shone from his slitted lids. Steve's cock pulsed in his pants, then he took a ragged breath before he spoke.

“Heyyyyyy. Mrs. Rogers...”

You rolled your hips against his impressive bulge as Steve’s baritone rumbled in your ear. As you reached for the hem of his shirt, he kissed you, grabbing the collar to take it off.

You looked at Steve appreciatively as you bent and licked one erect nipple, then wrapped your lips around the tiny button, pulling it into your mouth and eliciting a small groan from him. You took your time, enjoying his sounds which got louder and louder.

"Such a good boy making those pretty sounds for me, Stevie."

You licked, sucked and savored him as you alternated from one pec to the other.

“Wanna always be good for you, Peach...” 

Steve gritted it out as you grabbed him by the hair, pulling him into a filthy, long, deep kiss. He grabbed for you and held on as your mouth plundered his.

Then you pulled away.

“I have a question, Mr. Rogers,” you unclasped your bra, then leaned forward and stuffed your nipple into his mouth, moaning as he looked up at you with those clear blue eyes and sucked enthusiastically.

“How is it you married me, and I hadn’t even sucked your cock yet?”

Steve chuckled and then got serious.

“Must be true love.”

You felt his cock pound between your legs and knew what had to happen. His fingernails scratched your thighs trying to hold on to you as you moved back to stand.

When he saw that you were going to kneel, he quickly moved a pillow from the chaise for you to settle in front of him. He then lifted his hips from the couch and pulled down his sweats and boxers in one move.

His erection sprung out and you licked your lips, ready to finally feel the smooth skin in your mouth.

"Touch yourself for me, Stevie."

Steve took himself in hand and started stroking from base to head, thumb swiping the drops of precum in passing. His burning gaze was on you but your eyes were glued to what was in his fist. 

“Fuck that’s hot… Wan’ taste you,” you were whining now, feeling deprived. 

“..Whatever you want.” Steve whispered in a strained voice after looking into those big, beautiful eyes.  

You ran your fingers over his thick dick all the way down to the heavy, tight balls. 

“So pretty…” 

You kept eye contact as you leaned in and gave him a long, wet lick from balls to head. Your tongue rolled over the soft skin of the large mushroom cap, taking in the dewey drops leaking from it.

You licked down the hard shaft, until you reached the base and ran your tongue over his large sac.

You began sucking on his tip, tonguing underneath, and humming around his head, causing Steve to murmur, “Fffeels so fucking good, Peach.”

He was carding his fingers through your hair as he said it.

Inspired, you took him as far as you could, until your lips were stretched to the limit and tears coursed down your face. You inhaled the musky scent of him in the hair at the base of his cock and looked back up to watch his contracting abs and heaving chest, his open mouth and those mesmerizing eyes. 

This was a fucking beautiful man.

Steve’s big hands gathered your hair and held it, just tight enough to send a zing to your clit. 

“Peachhhhh, that mouth is good.”

Steve was in love with how you sucked him off. He rolled his hips and found out just how snug your throat really was. When you pulled off, tears were rolling down your face.

He wiped your tears away with his thumb. 

"Y' look so fucking pretty like this, Peach.”

The way you took him all when you deep throated him again sent the cum crawling up his balls. 

“Fuckfuckfuck. Shit.”

You pulled off and released him with a filthy plop, watching as he desperately squeezed his cock at the base, trying to stop the impending explosion.

He reached out for you with his other hand and you climbed up onto his lap as he marveled at your messy hair, your bouncing tits, and fucked out expression.

“You’re a fucking goddess. Wanna cum down your throat, Peach, but don’t swallow our kids. Need ‘em inside you.”

The tip of his cock nudged your entrance, and you reached down and grabbed it, perfecting its position as you sank down on it.

You both watched in fascination as your pussy engulfed him preceded by the juices from your wet pussy. Steve’s hands grabbed onto your hips, and you wanted him to bruise you, to have a mark on you from this for days. 

Your head lolled back on your shoulders as you glided down on your Steve's, thick cock. He lifted you by your waist and alternated fucking you up and down his dick and thrusting into you, hitting angles he hadn't before.

His grunts and your moans were beautiful music.

“Please look at me, Peach.”

His tone was reverent and you couldn't help but obey. The sounds you two were making sent you right to the edge of a precipice.

“Oh… right…there… right fucking there!”

You keened as you scratched the skin on his shoulders and biceps. 

“Fucking me so good, Stevie…So righttt. N-need you to keep hitting it like that…give it to me just like that. All your cum. Inside me.”

He was hitting those bundles of nerves just right.

“You need it like that hunh? I'll give it to you until it drips out of you... Need it dripping down my gotdamn balls....”

And he proceeded to fuck up into you perfectly. Your hands moved from his shoulders to his hair and you leaned in for a filthy kiss. He gripped your throat and carefully squeezed to control your airflow. Your eyes began to roll and your cunt clenched down on him. Hard.

"Ffuckk, " He had to grit his teeth to keep from cumming. "Need you to fucking cum, Peach....."

“I- I’m close Stevieeee. Ahhh. Give it. Gonna have all your babies….”

Your pussy started clenching around him.

“Holy FUCK!”

Steve picked you up and placed you on the chaise, pulling your legs over his shoulders as he drilled into you. He slid a hand between you and rubbed your clit in soul-destroying circles.

“Drain these fucking balls...shhhhhitttttt!"

You clutched him close as you felt his cock start and continue to spurt hot cum inside you. As he softened, he sat back on his heels and spread your legs to watch his cum drip out of you. He trailed two fingertips down your sensitive slit and pushed it back inside you, all the while a sly grin on his face.

He caught your eye. 

“Can’t waste a drop.”

“You are filthy slut, Mr. Rogers.”

He laughed. 

“Only for you, Mrs. Rogers.” 

Steve grabbed his t-shirt to clean you both up a bit. Next thing you knew, you were being carried out of the studio and through to his master bedroom 

It was daylight when you were lightly snoring in his arms and Steve was grinning wide, his wife in his arms.

—

The next afternoon, you sat in front of the vanity in Bucky’s penthouse as the hired glam team worked around you and your cousin. The stylist meticulously worked with your hair while the makeup artist added the final sweep of highlighter across her cheekbones.

The two of you had been getting ready together for years, first as teenagers sneaking into her mother’s closet, and now as women preparing for an extravagant event in a high-rise overlooking Manhattan. But this afternoon was different.

Her eyes met yours in the mirror. You had just her the rundown of the day before, complete with the news that you and Steve were married. She’d been quiet for a while, but now it seemed she was ready to talk again.

“You’re really happy, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice soft but certain.

You blinked, then exhaled.

“Yes I am.”

“You and Steve are perfect for each other. "

She leaned over and grabbed your hand, grinning at you.

"This isn’t a race. I’m never gonna be jealous of you, girl.”

You grinned back.

“I’m pissed that I wasn’t able to be there, though.”

You sighed. Your one regret.

“I know. But it was perfect. Just the two of us. We’ll have a party later on, though. And tonight, we’ll celebrate.”

You turned thoughtful.

“The way Steve loves me should terrify me. But it doesn’t.”

She studied you for a moment. 

“Because?”

“Because when I’m with him, it makes sense. The way he looks at me, the way he is with me—it doesn’t feel rushed. It just feels… right.”

“Then that’s all that matters.”

Your cousin smiled, tilting her head as the hairstylist and makeup artist switched and her hair was being fussed over. 

“I know you think that I feel some kind of way, but I know you girl. I was shocked, but not surprised..”

She laughed and you shook your head.

“Running off and getting married is so you. It’s so Steve too when you think about it.”

You took a sip of the mimosa that Bucky had brought in earlier. You thought what was about to happen for your cousin.

“Real talk. Bucky adores you, Cousin. And I know you. And I’m getting to know Bucky. This engagement and wedding are going to be events. Events, I say. You wouldn’t have it any other way. .You’re about to get some bling to match that jewelry you got on tonight in Vermont next week.” 

You two laughed together, the mood lighter now. 

“You’re right,” she replied. I’m secure. It will happen. And just at the right time for us. And no matter what, Peach. You are never gonna lose me as your biggest fan, no matter what.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too, cousin.”

You hugged each other so hard, the stylists had to touch you back up.

As you finished up, the sound of deep voices and approaching footsteps echoed from the hallway. The door opened, and Bucky stepped in first, his navy tuxedo perfectly tailored, his gaze immediately softening when he saw your cousin. 

“Damn Frumoasă,” he murmured, taking her in with slow appreciation. 

“You’re making it real hard for me to let you out of this apartment tonight.”

She shot him a look.

“Smooth, Barnes,” she smirked at him. “Nice suit.”

“What? This old thing?”

Bucky smirked back as he took her hand and led her out of the room.

You rolled your eyes at them because you had the feeling they were being freaky, you just couldn’t prove it.

Steve walked in, ensconced in an impressively tailored dark tux, his presence commanding as always, but the moment his eyes landed on you, something in him shifted. 

You were wearing a short gold sequined gown that showcased your legs, and you felt like a princess. 

Like a wife.

His usual air of control wavered for a fraction of a second, his gaze dragging over you like he was memorizing every inch.

You arched that adorable brow at him, tilting your head. 

“No comment?”

Steve exhaled, stepping closer, his voice rough around the edges. 

“You already know, Mrs. Rogers.”

Bucky chuckled, clapping Steve on the shoulder. 

“Think you broke him, Peach. Congratulations, Mrs. Rogers.”

You grinned, gave Bucky a hug and reached for your clutch. 

Steve reached out, his fingers grazing your wrist as he murmured, “Hold on.”

You frowned slightly, watching as Bucky guided your cousin toward the door, leaving just the two of you in the room. Steve reached into his pocket, pulling out another small black velvet box.

Your breath caught, your heart skipping for just a second.

He popped the top, revealing a pair of dazzling double diamond drop earrings, the perfect complement to the moi et toi necklace resting against your collarbone and the ring on your finger. All you could do was look at them and then blink up at him.

“Steve…”

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. 

“Thought you should match.”

You shook your head and laughed.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Steve lifted an earring, stepping close to help fasten it in place and his touch lingered.

“You say that now,” he murmured and then moved to the other side, his lips just a breath away from your skin.

“But you love it.”

You turned into his arms and looked into his eyes.

“You know if you keep giving me gifts like this, you’re going to spoil me.”

His eyes darkened, and his hand came to rest on your hip, fingers pressing into the fabric of your dress. 

“That’s the plan,” he murmured, voice low, “Mrs. Rogers.”

Bucky cleared his throat from the doorway, breaking the moment. He was leaning against the frame, smirking. 

“Hate to interrupt, but Nico’s waiting. Unless you two want to skip the gala entirely.”

You rolled your eyes at the dark headed man and flipped him off.

"You're going to get enough of watching us like a drama."

"Never. You two are my favorite romcom."

Steve exhaled through his nose, the ghost of a smirk on his lips as he kissed your neck, producing a shiver. Then, lacing his fingers with yours, he led you toward the door.

—

The way the night was going seemed like a dream, arriving on Steve’s arm and watching the reactions. Some were surprised, but most just commented that you were such a handsome couple and gave congratulations.

Sharon was clearly not happy, but fuck that bitch.

Steve hadn’t given her, or anyone else that matter, a second glance.

When the music started, Steve danced with you to all the tempos, even the Salsa when that genre was played. You had a time, and then you two went to the bar to get refreshments.

Sharon chose that moment to show her ass. You barely had a sip of your amaretto sour before she started on her bullshit.

“Steve,” she purred, looking up at him under her lashes and placing her hand on his forearm. 

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Steve tactfully removed his arm from her grasp while the fingers on his other hand reached for you and rested low on your back, his thumb stroking a slow, deliberate circle against the sequined fabric of your gown.

“It’s been two days, Sharon,” he replied, his tone clipped. And annoyed.

Your cousin and Bucky moved closer, probably because she clocked what was going on.

Sharon ignored Steve’s tone and turned to you. 

“And you must be the entertainment. Nice dress. Is it easy to take off?”

The words sounded sweet as honey, but you heard the venom underneath. 

“I guess congratulations are in order? I hear you two ran off and got married. I guess that's a choice. It’s probably refreshing, going from someone like Peggy to someone like…Peaches..”

“It’s Peach,” you replied. 

The bitch was silent.

Sharon’s gaze flicked to your ring, then your jewelry, then down the length of your gown. 

“Although you do wear luxury well. Tell me, how does it feel knowing it’s all borrowed? That he’s probably going to dump you tomorrow. Get an annulment and leave your ass in the gutter strip club where he found you.”

You could feel the heat of Steve’s fury at your side, his body tensing like he was about to snap.

Your mouth opened to reply, but your cousin stepped up, anger rolling off of her body.

“You know what’s really refreshing, Sharon? Watching a woman who wants to fuck around with me and my family and find out.”

She lowered her voice.

“And like a cable, we jump hoes.”

The air around you shifted, and a few party-goers slowed their conversations to listen.

Bucky stepped forward as Sharon’s jaw twitched into a twisted smile. Bucky whispered in your cousin's ear. She glared at him and started taking off her jewelry, handing her earrings to him. Bucky shook his head and pulled her to the side while she gave him the business.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a negative way.” Sharon simpered. “It’s just the truth.”

Sharon looked between you and Steve.

“You are nothing but negative. You don’t have to worry about my marriage. Or your endowment anymore, Sharon.”

Steve spoke to her, his eyes blazing blue.

You smiled at your man, then took a slow step forward, closing the space between you, lowering your voice just enough that only Sharon, and Steve, could hear.

“Do you think calling me a stripper is an insult?” 

Your voice was strong and steady.

“I own what I do. I’m damn good at what I do. And you?” 

You looked her up and down, eyebrow deadly.

“You’re standing here, burning because even with your family ties, and your desperate little designer dress, the only woman Steve wants is me. He married me.”

You leaned in even closer.

“The difference between us? I don’t have to chase him. I just have to walk into a room.” 

You smiled at her sweetly.

“And he follows.”

The moment the words left your lips, Steve did exactly that. 

As he left her in her feelings,  Steve tossed a comment over his shoulder.

“You just got your ass handed to you in front of half the room,” he mused. 

“I’d cut my losses and walk away.”

One of the staffers turned up at that moment. 

“This way, Ms. Carter. I’ll be escorting you out.”

The four of you watched as she turned red and huffed and puffed on her way out of the door. After everyone around you went back to minding their own business, your cousin hugged you hard.

“I love you. That was perfection.”

You hugged her back. 

“Thank you, Boo.”

You released her as Bucky handed her earrings back and Steve looked at you with admiration in his eyes. 

“You handled that well.”

You smirked. “I know.”

Steve pulled you into his arms and kissed your forehead, not bothering to lower his voice when he said, “I’ll remind you how much I love that later.”

Your cousin groaned dramatically.

 “You two are disgustingly perfect for each other.”

Bucky grabbed a bottle of Moet from the table display.

“A toast. To Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers!”

Your husband looked at you with a smile. You don’t know what was coming your way as Steve's wife, but you knew it wouldn’t be boring.

[stuck-in-jelly]

Happy Festival of Milda Valentines Day!

I've been thinking a lot about the human kingdoms and decided they need a little bit more love in more ways than one and what better way to do it then trying to make it look like the Xadia Handbook!

Hopefully these memes make way more sense now.

And a special thank you to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for letting me show them and helping me with beta reading!! 🫶

Image IDs Under Text:

Cover Page:

Image ID: on the left side of the page a sketch of Janai and Amaya embracing in a dance after Janai had proposed frames the text. Janai’s eyes are half lid and she is smiling. Amaya stares back at her with a pleased expression as flower petals rain down around them from Janai’s proposal outfit. On the right is a sketch of their 3-tiered wedding cake decorated with flowers and a figurine of them embracing. End ID.

“What message do you think it gives the people if you choose to marry a human?”

“There is no message. The only message is that I’ve chosen this amazing woman as my wife.”

Prince Karim to his sister, Queen Janai. Book 4: Earth, Chapter 2: Fallen Stars

Image ID: in the background Callum and Rayla lock hands. End ID.

A Simple Guide to Human Courtship.

The people of the Human Kingdoms are vast in size, to assume all Humans preform the same courtship rituals would be a bit of an insult. From the proud and plentiful Katolians of the East to the humbler and a wise Evenerans of the South each Kingdom host its own unique style of Courtship and Marriage.

Image ID: To the left of the paragraph there is a sketch of Terry and Claudia embracing in a dance both of them lovingly gazing at each other. On the right is a sketch of young Callum and Claudia. Callum blushes with a small bundle of flowers in his hand, Claudia next to him smiles with a gap tooth as she places the flower in her hair. End ID.

This guide aims to give a quick and simple breakdown of the human kingdoms for those lucky in love looking to court a human. Just remember, all humans are different and some are more traditional than others, some may even wish to abandoned tradition all together. What is important is your intentions and how clear you make them.

CHAPTER INDEX

Page 1: Katolis

Page 2: Del Bar

Page 3: Neolandia

Page 4: Duren

Page 5: Evenere

Page 6: The Festival of Milda

Image ID: To the left of the text is a sketch of Soren and Corvus over looking Katolis from the ramparts. To the right Sara and Harrow sit on the stairs of Katolis Harrow offering up a flower to Sarai as she leans forward a hand on her chest and a large smile. Below the text Allen leans forward his eyes closed and a soft smile as he holds out an extremely large flower to Lujanne in her human disguise much to her delight. End. ID.

All of the page are divided into two Columns.

Page 1

Column one:

Katolis Courtship:

Image ID: to the left of the text the red and gold Katolis Flag Displaying the Uneven Towers hangs off the margins. End ID

Birth and local raised Katolians have the longest courting rituals of all of the human kingdoms, it can take anywhere from a year to two years for a couple to begin ‘officially’ dating even during active courtship.

When a Katolian wishes to court a partner they begin with flora. Paying close attention to ‘flower language’ they select a single flower that best expresses how they feel towards their partner. Although they may need to be extra careful, if their intended partner is not originally from Katolis, their flower language may differ, causing some confusion, or at the worse, offense.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “The flower Viren gifted to Lissa, a lily, was meant to symbolize her passionate knowledge of music and the arts as well as ever lasting love. However, being from Del Bar, a lily symbolized death and the severing of an innocent soul from its body. Luckily for Viren, Lissa had known what he meant.” After that the box a drawing of Viren’s hand holding a white lily in his hand End ID.

The offering of the flower can go several different ways: if placed on the right side of their body it is an invitation to continue courtship, if placed on the left the person declines, and if the flower is returned or otherwise discarded well, the message is rather clear.

If the flower offering is accepted the Katolian will then begin the first of many many dates. An old wives tale says that a couple must first have exactly a thousand dates before continuing courtship, however in modern times most Katolians will call it on the 100th date.

Mountain Regions:

The people who have made their homes along the mountain ridges and cold peaks of Katolis are among the loudest of Katolians when it comes to courtship. This is largely in part of Del Barians who find themselves feeling homesick drifting down West, where the weather is cooler and the culture more like home.

Here, courtship tends to be shorter and bolder with the offering of a flower being accompanied by lavish gifts of furs and displays of courage and strength.

There is even a specific Courtship Tradition native only to the people along the edge of the Cursed Caldera in which to show a partner they truly wish to be with them, will scale the mountain and pluck a blue rose to bring back down to their lover.

Image ID: Blue Roses hang along the margins of the page. End ID.

Colume 2:

Image ID: The shillotue of two dragons flying in the sky looms over the text. End ID.

Border Lands:

The people of the border lands to the East differ the most from their fellow Katolians. Being along the border their communities are not as large, their fields not as ripe, and dragons threaten at the edge of the border.

As a result Katolians of this area are far more reserved, their courting rituals being as subtle as they are. When a Border Land Katolian wishes to court they will bring offerings of food; oranges already peeled and cut, apples sliced and displayed neatly, cool drinks after a hard days work, and sometimes if one is feeling bold a full meal cooked and prepared.

A local ‘Whistle Song,’ can also be performed. It begins with one of pair whistling a song to the other, if the other joins and whistle together in harmony, the feeling is reciprocated. This is sometimes done with an ocarina or another wind instrument.

Image ID: A sketch of Claudia’s Ocarina. End ID.

Wedding Traditions:

It is believed to be bad luck for the soon to be newlyweds to see each other even up to a week leading to the wedding ceremony. However, some Katolian will participate in something of a teasing game, sending friends and family in their stead to tell give their partners playful messages.

On the wedding day the couple are both blindfolded and escorted to the front of the chapel by a specially selected somebody often called their ‘Honor Guard.’ At the alter the blindfolds are removed by the partners together after exchanging vows. Once the blindfold is removed they are handed two porcelain bells that are shattered on the alter scattered apple seeds that are tossed in the air.

After the ceremony the couple will preform what is called “The Uneven Dance,” in which the pair dance on one foot at all times, as the dance goes on, the music becomes faster and the couple must keep up till the end of the song.

Another common wedding game is “The Scale Game,” the partners sitting on kneeling pillows will attempt to balance both sides of a large scale using a variety of items provided by guest. If the couple is successful in using all items to balance the scales good fortune is said to come their way.

Page 2.

Column 1:

Del Bar Courtship:

Image ID: to the left of the text the brown and gold Del Barian Flag Displaying the Serpent of the Mountains hangs off the margins. End ID

Del Barians are among of the craftiest and loudest of the Human Kingdoms when it comes to courtship, there is nothing subtle about their attempts to woo each other and it often becomes subject to public affair.

When a Del Barian wishes to court someone they will invite them to a series of challenges called “Trails of The King,” named after The First King of Del Bar who famously courted his husband by challenging him to a series of competitions including Match Crossbow, a Gladiatorial Duel, Weapon Forging, and Throat Singing.

The trails are tests of strength, wit, creativity, endurance, and craftsmanship. These challenges can range to anything from metal-smithing to a good old fashioned race but either-way the outcomes of the test aren’t as important as how the pair feels after them. If both are satisfied and happy they will begin to officially date.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Soren squirmed. His pauldrons clanked as his shoulders slumped. “They aren’t games. They’re test. Ugh...I’m really messing this up.”

Reflections: “Changing of The Guard” Next to the box is a drawing of Soren in his pajamas, one foot on a wooden box, one hand on his hip and the other raising up his sword in triumph. End ID.

When a couple wishes to wed they will either craft or commission ‘Engagement Daggers.’ These blades are often engraved with family crest or meaningful symbols and are displayed at the front entrance to their home to ward off evil.

Serpentongue River Region:

Serpentongue Del Barians are mostly similar to their mountain dwelling kin; however, these Del Barian show more interested in poetry and song then test of power and strength. River Del Barians will write songs and/or poems to either preform themselves or gather a group to help them preform the piece for their potential partner.

If the person decides they would like to reciprocate they will later bring their own piece to preform in turn, however if they do not, they will leave in the middle of the performance. A more aggressive way to decline is by shooting an arrow from a crossbow at their feet.

Another smaller tradition in the rural regions involves a Shawl Exchange, in which the couple will exchange handmade shawls to each other, the designs include intricate stories woven into fabric.

Image ID: On the right to the paragraph is a sketch of Corvus’s Cello. End ID.

Column 2:

Wedding Traditions:

Del Barian weddings themselves are a huge affair. Once a couple is in engaged, both sides of the family unite to plan the event after which they will join each other on a hunt to bring back the pelt of their kill. The united family will decide on what to turn the pelt into; blankets, clothes, and rugs are most common. After it is made, the item is given to the couple as wedding gift.

Image ID: grey, slightly pink in hue Trysting Stones of Various sizes hover over the next paragraph. End ID.

Once the exchange of the Engagement Daggers is done through a Trysting Stone guests will erupt in a traditional throat song, and imminently afterwards lead into a dance/game called “The Silver-Tongued Serpent Dance,” in which wedding guests will gather in snake formation with the lead of the group wearing the head of a dragon. The ‘Serpent-Dragon’ will encircle the couple in a dance and the pair will attempt to escape the serpent’s dance by ‘slaying’ the beast.

However, in the Serpentongue Region, instead of slaying the serpent the couple will play tug-a-war with the serpent’s tongue till they can pull it loose from the head and escape.

The rest of the night is a celebration that many non-Del Barians joke is, ‘loud enough to wake the ancient ones’. Friends, Family, and even strangers are welcomed to join in the festivities. Sprawling tables of feast, echoing drums through the night as guest partake in games like Match Crossbow, Wrestling, Chess, and Storytelling. The celebration tends to lead well into the night with the couple welcoming dawn unified.

After the wedding many couples can choose participate in “Wind Elk’s Retreat” where the couple spends a few months traveling together searching for adventures to one day become tales for their family and children if they wish to have them.

Page 3

Column 1:

Neolandia Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the grey and black Neolandian Flag displaying a Neolandian Elephant hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of Neolandia are straightforward with their courtship, if someone wishes to woo a partner they will outright express their intentions, being people from a harsher climate they would rather cut to the chase, though of course this isn’t without romance.

To being courtship Neolandians start with clay, with it they craft whatever item they wish; vases, bowls, figurines, etc. These items are extremely diverse, with some being simple and others extremely complex.

Image ID: three different styles vases in a need row. The first is a black and purple vase, it is short and has horn like handles near the bottom. The second is a taller more traditional brown case with cracks. The last is a wide light brown vase with cracks. End ID.

When the item is fished the Neolandian will approach their potential partner and offer the item. It is encouraged for the receiver of the clay creation to barter with the gift and bring something of equal or greater value in a show of resourcefulness. This practice is called “Barter For The Beloved.”

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “A Peanut for a place brings a home but a Barter for The Beloved will fill the rooms.” Prince Kasef’s Grandmother, Queen Yara. End ID.

When the pair decides to date they spend their time living with each other first. Their days spent in a shared space will show if they are truly a good match and still wish to start a home together.

Central Eboreus:

The world renowned Jousting Tournament held in Eboreus invites Neolandia’s strongest warriors, and these competitors may were a cloth from their lover tucked into their armlet as a show of devotion.

Otherwise, if not entered into the competition most pairs will simple invite each other out for the Tournament Festivities and treat themselves to Chocolate Cardamom Cupcakes.

Rural Region:

For those who reside in the barren lands of Neolandia, pairs who decide to wed will choose a spot where they work together to build a home from the ground up. These homes stay in the families for generations with children adding onto the home when they choose a partner in life.

Image ID: Stone formations. End ID.

Column 2:

Wedding Traditions: Image ID: a sketch of an ornate box with intricate carvings and jewelry. End ID.

When proposing Neolandians will get down on their knees and bow their head while lifting up a “Matrimony Box.” These ornate boxes are family heirlooms full of precious gemstones and inheritance passed down generation to generation. Most families regardless of status have these.

The wealth of the families will decide heavily on how extravagant the wedding is. Nobles from Eboreus will include a parade of Neolandian Elephants accompanied with music and showers of poppies through the street. The common Neolandian however, will have a smaller ceremony with friends and family.

On the night before the wedding both partners will have their faces and arms painted with dye made from flowers and spices. The designs are intricate and many will choose to paint Neolandian Elephant tusk on the sides of their face for good fortune.

At the ceremony a large garland of poppies is draped over the shoulders of the lovers, and in between them the ornate boxes lay open. After giving their vows and placing their own personal jewels into their partners box are officially wed.

The party afterwords consist of a night full of entertainment held at the “Lovers Stage.” Despite the name, the Lovers never once step onto the stage, instead it is reserved for guests. Entertainment is very important in Neolandian weddings, guests and family members will come with all sorts of trinkets, musical instruments, talents, and trades to show off to the newly joined family.

Two common forms of entertainment are: “Skinks Illusion” and “Wrath of The Bumblescorp.”

Hiring Dark Mages for weddings used to be a common practice, these mages often would preform The Skinks Illusion; a memorizing performance of lights and glitter that cast beautiful stained-glass figures in the air. Though after the passing of Prince Kaseef the practice has gone down drastically.

Wrath of The Bumblescorp however, is a highly customizable and fun experience. The performance is a non-verbal comedy play full of music, dancing, and exaggerated hjinks meant to show the couple they will always be safe from harm (Bumblescorps) when they have each

Image ID: A sketch of a singular bumblescorp threatens. End ID.

Page 4:

Column 1:

Duren Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the blue and gold Durenian Flag displaying a closed flower hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of Duren have a laid back way of courting and in general dating. A playful way many Durenians will flirt is by taking a small bundle of wheat and dusting both of their intended partner’s shoulders, this often indicates interest and invites the other to join in if they wish to.

Most dates for Durenians involve the couple venturing on long picnics and walks into one of the many sprawling stone gardens. Berylgarten’s most famous garden has ‘The Wall of Lovers’, where hundreds of couples have visited to etch their names into the stone walls with the encouragement of the groundskeepers.

However, above all else Durenian’s value honesty and truth, through all stages of courting and dating Durenians will check in with each other to see if both are still happy and fulfilled in the relationship, hashing out any issues and quarrels where they can. To non-Durenians this may come off as them not wanting to be in the relationship anymore and cause some misunderstandings.

When Durenians are becoming more serious in their courtship however, they switch tones drastically going from walks in the park to long discussions of their future and assets. Since many Durenians are farmers and live a pastoral life it can become difficult when pairs with their own separate farms and livestock wish to come together. Whose land will they end up on? Will they live separately? What if their livestock do not get along? These are just a few of the many situations the average Durenian must consider before committing themselves to marriage.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Bluebell, Bluebell! Fly over my head, And you shall have a crust of bread; And when I brew and when I bake, you shall have a piece of my wedding cake!.” Local game song from Duren Children.” To the left of the text is a sketch of Terry and Claudia dancing in bee costumes. End ID.

Eastern Duren:

A local sweet called ‘Sweet-Hearts Seed Bomb’ is a simple but delicious treat comprised of a variety of edible seeds and nuts rolled into a pastry ball, coated in powered sugar, and baked! Durenians will make a batch and decorate a cornucopia-like basket to give to partners on the holiday, “Sweetness Day.”

Column 2:

Image ID: A sketch of Rayla’s bread being pinned to a tree by an arrow hovers over the text. End ID.

Wedding Traditions:

When a Durenian wishes to propose marriage they will spend anywhere from months to years growing out their hair to chop off and bundle in an offering to their partner. This practice is called the “Mane of Hair Exchange.” The longer the bundle of hair the more significance it carries. The hair is often worn as an accessory or displayed.

The weddings themselves tend to be modest in size and primarily hosted outdoors, many rural Durenians will even have their weddings in their backyard among their fields and flowers. Before the ceremony couples will first eat two spoonfuls of honey before having any wedding cake or food.

At the Ceremony a crown of thorns called “The Crowns of Abundance” is worn by the couple and as they exchanges vows they will place flowers and leaves into the crown softening the thorns and shielding the lovers. To prick one selves during the ceremony is not a sign of bad luck but rather a sign that through it all the couple will prevail. In the end guest will toss rise grains along the couples path.

A common wedding game is called “Pluck The Chick,” A Innena chicken with a blue ribbon is placed inside of a pen along with several other chickens. The game has the player wear a blindfold and enter the pen to try and find up the Blue Ribboned Chick based on instructions and shouts from onlookers. There is usually a prize at the end of this game.

Image ID: A sketch of a Innena Chicken with its wings puffed out and head raised up.

The family of the couple before the wedding both make a wedding gift called ‘Harvest’s Luck.’ It is a broom made of a variety of dried herds, flowers, fruit skins, and grass. The specific arrangement can mean several things: Fertility, Abundance Luck, Joy. These bundles are often put on display at the wedding and afterwards mounted in front of the house to grant protection.

Image ID: A colorful array of potatoes, fruits, flowers, and breads in baskets and buckets. End ID.

Page 5:

Column 1:

Evenere Courtship: Image ID: To the left of the text the black and green Evenerean Flag displaying a Dragonfly hangs off the margins. End ID.

The people of the South are the humblest of the human kingdoms when it comes to courtship, marriage, and overall festivities. It isn’t uncommon for members of a family to be unaware that their relative is even dating anyone up until marriage is being discussed with how private they tend to be.

As such romance in the swamp-lands is full of hushed sweet-nothings, soft fox kisses behind the arches of trees, and subtle gazes from across the small communities along the waters. Wood carving plays a deep role in the beginning and end of any Evenereans courtship, when an Evenerean wishes to court someone they carve the person’s favorite animal into a figurine. The type of wood used in this carving have their own significant meanings and these carvings are often decorated with paint.

Image ID: On both sides of the text two bottles of perfume frame the paragraph. End ID.

If the feeling is reciprocated the pair will being dating, the time being spent crafting oils, candles, and perfumes for each other as well and teaching their partners their on survival skills for swamp-life the two gaining knowledge, skill, and companionship with one another.

Image ID: A smaller text box is bordered by thin gold lines. Inside the box the text reads: “Do Evenreans even have weddings?” “What kind of Question is that?” Many Non-Evenerans have no idea what a Evenere wedding looks like and some even assume they have no ceremony. End ID.

Willow’s Blessing:

Evenere has a creation myth. It is said Willow was once a renounced carpenter, who spent their time aiding the people in their community; reinforcing boats, fixing shoes, building homes, and patching walkways. But one day a great flood took their community, homes that once stood proud had been swept away within an afternoon, boats rocked so terribly not even they could salvage it, and precious supplies needed for survival lost.

With the weight of the loss upon their back Willow ventured into the woods to harvest what they could but they knew the damage was far too great. To rebuild would be a heavy cost to the woods that sheltered them. Willow began to cry, at the base of an ancient tree. The tree hearing their cries and their plight offered them a choice, to join them and become part of the woods.

Column 2:

Willow wept, thick heavy tears of joy and the bog welcomed them, turning them into a vast groove of Weeping Willows so that their friends and family can rebuild. It is tradition to wed in the shade of A Weeping Willow, for Willow weeps happy tears for the couple and promises to shelter them and their families for years to come.

Wedding Traditions:

When a Eveneran wishes to propose they will take the wooden carving of the animal crafted in the beginning of their relationship and turn it into a set of wooden spoons called ‘Love Spoons’. This practice is not disrespectful in the slightest and is a grand gesture of love. Rather than the spoons being mounted or displayed Evenerans will use these spoons often if not everyday.

Image ID: A colored Lantern hangs off the margins, it is made out of wood, covered in vines and fireflies hover around the light. End ID.

Eveneran weddings tend to be small, private, events hosted at night as it is seen as a special time for the couple to be alone. Before the couple ventures to their chosen spot they will have dinner with the shared family called ‘Homecoming Night’. This dinner is small gathering of intimidate family and friends, unity candles are lit and they all partake in well wishes and blessings for the next time they met the pair will be married.

Once the dinner is over the couple will retreat to a spot they’ve set up earlier in the day. Typically underneath a willow tree where they’ve hung wind chimes and lanterns along the branches and cleared a spot for a fire. The pair wear a set of matching bell bracelets, light the fire and toss in oils, then dance together as they preform the Hum of The Dragonfly, a song comprised of only dragonfly-like humming their palms pressed against each other as they glide around the fire. It is seen as great fortune if the song draws Dragonflies to their ceremony.

After words the couples return home where family members out of respect have left small red boxes full of wedding gifts.

Image ID: A colorful sketch of a Lilac Willow Tree. End ID.

Page 6:

The Festival of Milda: Image ID: The text is frame by a thin golden box and mirror each other on both sides of the page is an ornate red heart covered in spiraling gold and more heart motifs. End ID.

Column 1:

The Silent Priestess.

Legend says long ago there was a wandering Priestess of Lady Justice named Milda, sworn to an oath of silence. As such Milda spent her days listening and observing the people around her. One day, on a several month long stay in Del Bar, Milda noticed a Leather-smith utterly enamored by a valiant warrior. For weeks she watched the Smith admire the Warrior, but never make a move.

One evening, when the Warrior road into Hinterpeak upon her horse, Milda hatched a plan. While the Warrior was busy resupplying in town Milda snuck to her horse, cutting a slit into the leather hobble strap of the saddle. When the Warrior attempted to mount her horse next the strap snapped.

The Warrior approached the Leather-smith in a huff, hoping for a simple fix. The Smith, although flustered, make quick skillful work. In awe of the Smith’s swift craftsmanship the Warrior begun to visit often and it wasn’t long till she begun to court the gentleman. By the eve of the following year the two had wed.

It is said Milda went on to successfully match make over 1000 couples in her lifetime with her mischief before peacefully passing away of old age the 2nd week of February.

Image ID: A sketch of a Priestess to Lady Justice stands with her arm slightly reached out, she wears a Litham and has a bored expression. End ID.

The priestess never married, uninterested in such affairs, but took pride in her work. Now she is honored as a symbol of Love and Mischief with a Festival held the 2nd week of February in her honor called ‘The Festival of Milda.’ Originally a Katolian Holiday, it has since spread throughout the Kingdoms.

Milda is most commonly represented with a Horse Skull, Ribbons, and Bells but festivities themselves vary region to region.

Katolis:

Katolis has the largest celebration, with a dedicated full week to the holiday where townsfolk and nobles-alike dress in white and take a silk golden ribbon that they will try to pin it to single friends and family without them noticing. The person then needs to keep the ribbon on that spot through out the week and find someone whose ribbon is in the same spot as them and share a dance at the Festival’s Square. It is common for pairs to conspire with each other to match-make friends.

But in recent times it has become more of a Festival celebrating all kinds of love with friends, family, and even couples partaking in event as a lighthearted game of sticking ribbons to loved ones. A carnival is held in the town where vendors, flowers, heart shaped pastries, games, and music fill the street.

Duren:

“Sweetness Day”- Being heavy suppliers for the Katolian Festival of Milda, they were the first to begin their own version of the Festival, theirs being a three-day event hosted in Eastern Duren.

This event however, focuses more on pastries and sweets! Braided-Bread shaped like a heart, chocolate rose bouquets, heart honeycombs, and Sweet-Hearts Seed Bombs. This atmosphere has caused many bakers throughout the land to visit in hopes of bringing home high quality ingredients and exchange trade secrets. Barius himself attends the festival.

Image ID: A gold box of sweets with a red ribbon lays slightly open. There are chocolate roses, a peanut butter cookie and a chocolate ball with white icing. End ID.

Del Bar:

“The Feast Of Lovers”- Young Del Barians will take a Pilgrimage up Hinterpeak to visit the Statue of The Goddess of Hunt. Superstition says if you leave offerings at the shrine she will bless you with luck. After the young Del Barians return, well after nightfall they attend the Feast.

The Feast of Lovers is a Musical Chairs-like event, when the music in the hall stops Del Barians scramble up from their seats and rush to a new spot to rotate the energy and meet more people.

Neolondia

“Gala of The Unwed”- Hosted in outskirts of Eboreus, Galas for of-age and unwed Neolandians are held all over.

The 2-day gala consist of elaborate costumes, bizarre fashion, and mask.

Here guest mingle in the comfort of their costumes, an added layer of mystery making the night all the more exciting. The Galas have even inspired many stories of a lovely masked woman who charmed a Duchess before fleeing, leaving behind her slipper as the only clue to find her again.

Evenere:

“Day of Love”- large boats carrying guest float out in the water on the boats songs play through the evening and the people dance in celebration of love. Couples arm in arm, children swinging with their parents, and friends tossing each other around. All are welcomed in this event so that love can warm their community.

Image ID: A sketch of Terry on a boat in a Gondala get up. He smiles widely as he rows. End ID.

Page 7

CREDITS

Image ID: A sketch of Esmeralda skall with her dragon parrot hangs to the left of the caption. To the right of the caption is a sketch of Soren elbowing Kasef with a playful smile. Kasef has his arms crossed. End ID.

Artist Credits: Hanna Hofer, Dorothy Yang, Hanna Hofer, Rebecca Blessing, Grace Kim, Josh Bangs, Alice Cho, Sara Landsdell, Koko Liem, Dafne Martinez, Rocky Chen, and Wonderstorm,

Image ID: The stone entrance to the Pentarchy. Each of the kingdoms flags fly on the top of the stone structure and two warriors are carved into the stone looking towards the opening. Inside of the opening the text reads: “This is purely a fan-work inspired by the works of 2025 Wonderstorm, Inc’s “The Dragon Prince” Series. End ID.

[greenerteacups]

Apologies if you have answered that question before but, since you mentioned Bill and Fleur in one of your last posts, I wanted to ask what you think about their relationship? They've always been one of my favorite canon ships but a recent reread hasn't been too kind to it — the age difference (which i somehow never really clocked) + Bill not really saying/doing anything to defend Fleur. Plus just leaving her stranded with his family in their cottage lmao, though that may be a side-effect of Rowling going very stereotypical with her couples once they settle down (why wouldn't Fleur be working?!). Long story short, I've been loving the two (and Fleur especially, SHE IS NO ONE'S ORNAMENT DAMN RIGHT) in Lionheart ("Apparently I'll answer to 'tall Englishman'", Bill getting his ass handed to him by a petite Frenchwoman — my beloveds) but would love to hear more of your perspective! :)

CANON BILLFLEUR i love... secret age gap coworkers to lovers to monsterfuckers arc... beautiful French academic decathlon finalist (and honorary cringefail girlboss, though that's not really her fault on account of having tried to play honestly in the Faculty Cheating Competition), descended from a race of hypnotically gorgeous man-eating sirens, falls in love with long-haired sexually ambiguous wizard indiana jones. while they're coworkers. at a bank. then Wizard Indiana Jones (who wears an earring btw) gets bit by a werewolf and becomes NOT an actual werewolf but like. the diet Y/A Teen Wolf sexyman with hunky scars. molly's sobbing over losing his good looks meanwhile fleur is sitting there desperately resisting the urge to punch the air and do a victory lap.

their love story is also hilarious. bill has about 4 lines in the entire series and somehow pulls the hottest girl in the book. king of shutting the fuck up. a parable for all of us. fleur? even better. molly straight-up calls fleur shallow to her face at her fiance's hospital bedside and she basically hits her with "chill out, he was already punching." the absolute panache. it tells us so much about their relationship even though we don't get to see it. fleur has that man HANDLED. she is not worried. we don't know what their sex life is like but babygirl WAS NOT CONCERNED about him getting "aggressive at certain times of the month." stone cold pokerface did not break a sweat. make of that what you will.

more seriously. the 17/25 age gap thing is not like, great. but also it's not terrible for me considering (a) age gaps in the wizarding world are kinda fucked anyway and (b) she's fully the hottest woman to ever exist. and bill is a smart practical dude who if he's anything like his father is ass over teakettle in love with his wife. if anything i think fleur probably ran point on that particular mission. like, from bill's perspective, you're a competent and respected guy at the office, you're known for being smart and capable, and you're just getting to the point where you're up for serious promotions. and then there's the new girl at the office, who's a freshly legal blonde frenchwoman, and she's also ridiculous looney-tunes level hot. if you so much as smile at her your office buddies are going to roast you to hell. you will never live it down. and meanwhile fleur is coming into this new office, and the only guy she even kind of knows is the older brother of harry potter's best friend, who she interacted with for 0.1 seconds a year ago. but he's also cool and competent and everybody respects him. in her mind, he is a prey animal. he is the gazelle to her cheetah on the savannah. she is stalking him like big game. once she gets over how much he pisses her the fuck off I think she engages in emotional terrorism until he caves and asks her out. as is her right as a frenchwoman <3

[willreigns]

Waiting

Nothing changed Levi, he’s always been like this—broody—not so much the forgetful part. But you loved him anyway, and that was enough for him.

It started with the little things, until Levi forgot to shut off the sink one night, ruining the kitchen floorboards.

CW: Post-war Levi x fem!reader, angst, memory and cognitive decline, major character death

A/N: I cried while I wrote this. Happy late Valentine's Day XOXO ~2.2k words

It started with the little things. A forgetfulness masked by old age, and yet it always felt like something more. 

Levi Ackerman was anything if not prideful, and yet the confusion that dazed him at times forced him to tell you, his beautiful wife, that he was struggling with something deep, so much so that you urged him to visit the doctor.

He hated doctors. He had enough of them after the Battle of Heaven and Earth. Prodding, pestering, painfully pricking at him to ensure he remained alive until adequate care could arrive. Who would’ve known it’d take weeks?

And so, Levi hated doctors—but he loved you, his wife, so much that he’d bear through another annoying visit. If anything to soothe your mind that this is just him in his old age, that this is nothing more than another bumpy hill before he’d get better.

He saw it all his mind, you’d wheel him to the doctor’s office, just so that they’d tell him the war changed him, and that many war veterans face mental struggles. Then they’d charge an arm and a leg for the “prognosis”. You’d happily give payment if it meant Levi’s just fine—as fine as Levi Ackerman could be, but fine was good.

Nothing changed Levi, he’s always been like this—broody—not so much the forgetful part. But you loved him anyway, and that was enough for him.

It started with the little things, until Levi forgot to shut off the sink one night, ruining the kitchen floorboards.

You’d seen Levi swing through trees to face the ugliest of titans, seen him fight through despite the pains in his body, and yet that first harrowing face of forgetfulness stuck with you.

The doctor’s appointment was moved up from next month to next week. 

You wheeled him to the office, hands on the push handles subtly shifting every now and then to pull the graying bangs from his forehead to behind his ear. His hair is getting long, you think. It’s time for a haircut and he hasn’t even mentioned it.

The doctor says that war changed Levi. That many war veterans face many mental illnesses—and yet Levi’s is a strange and unique one, one that the doctor’s heard of but very, very rarely. As if done with the novelty of being “unique”, Levi scoffs at the doctor, limping from the examination table back to his wheelchair.

“Well then, your job is to cure this right?” The doctor’s face is blank and expressionless.

“There’s no cure.”

The walk back to your home is silent, more silent than you think you can bear. Your hands on Levi’s push handles stay put, no longer casting them towards his hair for loving caresses. You don’t want to impose on his boundaries after a conversation like this—Levi wishes you would.

Dinner is eaten silently, deep contemplation overtakes the both of you.

“Screw what the doctor said,” he utters.

“What?”

“I said screw what the doctor said, I just won’t forget. I can’t imagine it can be so difficult.” For some reason, it felt like the easiest solution in the world. You beam at him and the hopeful look in your eyes make him feel warm.

Of course, you think, Levi won’t let you down. Levi who's survived it all would fight this too, and things will be as normal as they can be.

“What’s with the shit eating grin,” Levi asks you one afternoon. You had just come back from the local market.

“I brought you this journal,” and you shove the bound papers into his lap.

“You can write everything you remember, the ladies at the market told me it helps with memory loss.”

“You didn’t—”

“No, I haven’t.”

Levi’s reluctance to let anybody know his illness was debilitating, your friends would definitely care if something were going on. But Levi’s image has already been impacted once—he didn’t want to add another smear to the already imperfect painting.

And so, Levi writes, albeit only in the evenings and when you are fast asleep. He writes of his mother, his friends, his squad, Hange and Erwin.

He writes about you.

Your name, the day he met you, a cheeky soldier with a death wish, as he likes to say. He writes about the day he told he you he loved you and first kissed you, the day he married you. He wrote about it while it was still fresh in his mind, where he willed for it to remain, where he begged for it to remain, for the rest of his life.

Levi forgets your birthday. 

It’s a good thing others didn’t, because neighbors and friends arrived to give you well wishes. He kisses you at the end of the night and you smile at him, and you forget about him forgetting.

Levi forgets about the chicken in the oven.

Fortunately, you arrive on time to salvage dinner, some of the skin burned, but digestible. He apologizes, face red in embarrassment. You tell him it’s nothing.

Every morning you inspect the journal while Levi rests, warm with the memories that still persist. Levi’s fighting, you think to yourself, everything will be alright.

Things remain in limbo for a while, with you picking up the pieces of Levi’s forgetting mind and putting them in their place. It remains like that for a while, you reminding Levi of the things he’s supposed to be doing. 

Suddenly, so suddenly, you come home one morning to find Levi struggling to stand, finding support in the nearby table.

“Levi,” you exclaim, “what the hell are you doing?”

He seems almost startled by you, but he clenches his jaw in defiance.

“Where the hell is everybody? We need to stop Eren, and I’m just sitting here doing nothing.”

Suddenly, so suddenly, it’s like you’ve woken up and are facing reality for the first time. 

The tears slip from your eyes, the hands by your side clenching and unclenching into fists. Levi looks at you with a stern expression, calling your name, but you ignore him as you walk away. You hide in your bedroom.

Levi talks of titans for two days straight, washes the same dishes several times, asks you where Hange and Erwin were, before finally snapping back into reality.

You’re crumpled on your bed and he sinks there with you, head falling into your shoulder. He’s silent in quiet horror, you’re silent in quiet loneliness. He apologizes over and over. You tell him it’s okay.

The frayed edges of Levi’s mind begin to tear at the seams, the gaps in his mind no longer something he can conceal. He wills himself to write. Where there was once lengthy journal entries, now repetitive sentences covered the pages.

We are living in year 86x. The war has ended.

Erwin Smith is dead. Hange Zoe is dead.

The war has ended.

The war has ended.

The war has ended.

Levi forgets your anniversary, Levi forgets to bathe, Levi forgets the route home when he steps out to buy…something—he can’t remember what he was supposed to buy.

To avoid your pained gaze, Levi’s wheelchair permanently lives near the window in the corner of the living room. Away from disturbing you, away from being near you.

Things remain like this for a while. You wait—for what, you don’t really know. You watch Levi scramble day in and day out, until he finally stills, hands in his lap, staring outside the window.

After months, you inspect his journal, wanting to feel hope, wanting to remind yourself that Levi’s fighting, that he’s trying.

The last journal entry was weeks ago. All that remain are scribbles. Levi remembers the routine, but does’t remember what he’s supposed to do. 

The doctor says there’s nothing left to do, and so you watch your husband implode. And oh you wouldn’t wish this on your worst enemy. To watch the man that loves you forget you. To watch as the man you love forgets everything.

Levi’s exhaustion is apparent from where he sits. He holds his teacup, fingers feeling weird where they were. Why does he hold teacups like this?

But only when he forgets your name does your own world implode, the bits and pieces of your self floating, with nobody to piece you together.

He doesn’t sleep in your bedroom anymore, only married people do that. In Levi’s mind, he’s respecting you, an unmarried woman, and so his permanent spot by the window also becomes the spot where he sleeps.

The doctor gives him a couple of more weeks, but it’s months of confusion, months of gazing into nothing, grasping at far away memories. 

Where’s Erwin?

Where’s Furlan and Isabel?

Where’s my mother?

You remind Levi that they’re gone, but that they’re waiting for him. Wherever they are.

You wait. For what, you don’t know.

It’s months of self hatred, before for a moment, Levi finds relief; clarity.

You catch him staring at you one evening, when you’re cleaning the dishes of tonight’s dinner.

“You remind me of someone I used to love,” Levi tells you.

Your heart catches, blood freezing, before you smile, a shaky breath escaping you.

“Yeah,” you respond, “used to?” 

Levi stays silent. You’ve long gotten used to the silence and the quiet contemplation, but for some reason you are compelled to look at him.

You are used to his lost gaze, used to the permanent furrowed brows that are always deep in thought. Is it your lover trying to remember you? The fighter in him, still combatting the destruction of his mind?

You look at him like a teacher looks at their student, the answer at the tip of their tongue, the knowledge in the deepest part of their mind, waiting to be brought out.

You are used to the defeated glance of despair, the quiet confusion that tells you help me.

You are not used to, however, the look that now graced Levi’s face.

Recognition. It startles you. It startles him.

He calls your name and your breath hitches. You can’t help the tears that slip. He says your name, over and over again and you walk over from the kitchen counter to his spot by the window, toppling over his wheelchair in an embrace. Your face falls into the crook of his neck as he wraps his arms around you.

“You married me,” he says quietly, “why?”

You’re quiet, not trusting your voice to not fall and break down, but force yourself to speak anyway.

“I love you,” you say, voice hoarse, “that’s why.”

Neither of you say anything else. His face falls into your shoulder and he breathes you in—you smell familiar, look familiar too. Perhaps Erwin and Hange can tell him later who you are and why you’re embracing him. You’re just too warm to let go right now. All he knows is that you’re his wife—his beautiful wife.

For the first time in a long time, Levi wheels himself into your shared bedroom and sleeps next to you. For the first time in a long time, things feel normal.

That chilly evening, Levi left your world.

It wasn’t his world anymore, no—hadn’t been his world in a long time. His permanently furrowed brows have relaxed, and finally his face appeared peaceful. You were glad. Even if you sobbed quietly for him to come back, you were glad.

All that was left was to wait.

You waited.

You waited for death.

Your gray hair swayed with the breeze one fateful morning. Something clicked within you, something about the peace that morning made you smile an all knowing smile. What’s with the shit-eating grin, you could almost hear Levi ask you. 

That night, neighbors and former comrades surrounded you, their children in another room to spare them the pain and grief that came with death. You were glad that they didn’t have to see you. At a young age you had been a witness to countless deaths at the hands of titans and the world, let them salvage their innocence for a bit longer.

You were in delirium. You were drifting, memories and glimpses of your life flashing before you, it all felt so real. Your parents, the scouts, the war. The most prominent moments though were the ones with Levi. It was then you realized that you had almost forgotten what he looked like before his injuries. You had almost forgotten what he sounded like before illness overtook him.

Captain Levi Ackerman. A symbol of hope.

Levi. Just Levi. The man you had fallen in love with.

You smiled fondly as you felt the tendrils of your mortality begin to blur; the feeling of peace filled you, it felt like falling into a deep sleep. And the peace continued to lull you, leading you to nothing and infinity all at the same time. 

You wandered, away from the cries of the world, and suddenly, a silence.

Then, you saw him. Your face broke out into a beaming smile.

“Levi,” you called out to your lover, your feet moving automatically to reach him.

There he was, his vision clear, his limbs intact, not a single layer of exhaustion on him. His face broke out in a small smile and he called out to you; you felt whole again.

There he was. Waiting for you. 

[visionsofyouandme]

V. it’s such a wonderful thing to love

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Life beyond Rome, 5 years later.

𝚠/𝚌: 4.4k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: Fluff! Marcus loves his wife (you<3). Graphic depictions of childbirth. More fluff. Family time. SMUT (18+ MDNI), Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). Body worship. Cum eating. Unprotected p in v. Creampie. Huge, big, fat breeding kink. Did I mention Marcus loves his wife?

𝙰/𝙽: Happy Valentines Day, first and foremost!! Secondly... Ugh. We're at the end of my first ever series. I'm emotional, people!!! Thank you to those who have read and interacted with my stories, especially this one. Marcus and Reader will always have a special place in my heart!! Let me know if you would want to see a little more of them- i'm open to one shots and drabbles for them ANY day! Only time will tell, I suppose :)

Hope you enjoy <3

Masterlist, AO3!

Some months later, you awoke to kisses on your arm, moving up to your shoulder. A hand smoothed out your hair, and you sighed in content then winced as your stomach twinged in pain. Your hand moved down to caress it gently, trying to quell the stomping of little feet against your stomach.

“Your “little warrior” is at it this morning.” you groaned softly, and Marcus chuckled from behind you, a hand on your hip as his kiss neared your neck. Marcus had given the nickname to the growing baby inside of you, and by the Gods did they live up to their name. It was nearly a constant barrage of kicks and movements these days, the medicus saying your time was drawing near. While you and Marcus were thrilled and anxiously awaiting their arrival, Marcus was beginning to become a little more quiet on the subject. You thought nothing of it at first, going about your daily duties of attending to the villa. But, one night, he confided in you his worries and anxieties. 

He was afraid something like what happened to his late, former wife would happen again. You could only listen as he went on, becoming frantic, worrisome, and you eventually held him in your arms, whispering that nothing like that would happen. The medicus and midwives were on standby, there to assist in any way possible. This seemed to help him, but he still shook with worry, trembling hands holding you, pressing against the baby you carried so gently. 

This morning, though, he seemed to be in better spirits.

“I do apologize, my dear, but they carry your spirit-”

“And yours,” you said, turning your head, and he placed a kiss on your lips, his hand coming to cup your cheek. He leaned his forehead against yours, and you smiled. “I hope they are every bit like you. Their smile, their eyes, their nose…”

“You are the other half of them, mea amata. I hope they possess more of you than anything else.” he said, and pat your hip gently,

“Come. I have had food brought to the dining area, and I know you are-”

“Famished, yes,” you groaned, and he helped you sit up, supporting you as you turned to slide off the bed.

“I am only with child, Marcus, not an invalid.” you laughed as Marcus stood by your side as you slid on your sandals. You looked up at him as he took your hand that he raised to his lips, giving it a deep kiss. 

“I do what I can to keep you and the little warrior comfortable and safe. Forgive me if I’m a little overbearing,” he said, and there was a soft sadness to his voice that made your eyebrows knit together. You touched his face gently, 

“Everything will be well, Marcus. I am sure of it.” you said, and gave him a smile. “Now, show me this spread you have promised me.” 

The days seemed to go by at a snails’ pace. Every day there was more pressure, more aches, more heat, and the medicus simply said it was all normal. You grumbled something about it needing to be over soon, causing him to chuckle.

“Any day now, My Lady,” he said, a comforting hand on your shoulder.

That was four days prior. The morning you woke, you knew today would be the day.

Marcus was due to ride out to the small town to fetch supplies and food while you rested, but you took his hand as a sharp pain erupted in your lower back. His eyes immediately softened with worry, and your eyes met, giving him the faintest nod and smiled small.

“I think it is time to meet our little warrior.” 

The notion seemed so small in comparison to the immense pain you had. It was almost too much, and you kneeled on the birthing stools with Marcus supporting your arm while a midwife supported the other. You sweat so much you thought you would slide out of Marcus’ grasp, tears painting your heated face. 

“You must keep going, my love. You must,” Marcus pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours once, pressing a hand against your cheek. “It will be over soon. It will be alright.”

The medicus, kneeling between your legs, announced the arrival of a head. You whimpered, shaking your head and your eyes squeezed shut tightly, lower lip trembling.

“I cannot. The pain, it is too much- ah!” you cried, and the medicus pleaded for you to push. Marcus’ hand never left your face, and he urged you to look at him,

“My love, mea vita, mea amata, you will survive this. You have survived so much, and you will continue to do so. Now, just give a little more. I know you can. You can do this.” 

Your eyes searched Marcus’ fierce gaze,  and you’d have thought that’s what they looked like while in the throes of battle. You felt terrified, but comforted all the same. Now it was your turn to be the soldier in a battle that could only end in victory- defeat was not an option.

You gave one push, then another, each with a striking cry that made your throat hoarse but Marcus did not waver. Suddenly, the pain and weight ceased, and the midwife looked over your shoulder. 

“Is it-? Are they-?” you slurred, trying to turn your head, and then heard another cry pierce the room, this one similar to yours but so shrill and tiny. But, it was like yours all the same, and Marcus was looking behind you, his eyes shining with tears.

“It’s a girl,” the medicus said, and you let out a strangled sob of relief, hearing your child come to life only inches away from you. Marcus kissed your wet forehead, 

“You have done it, mea vita. She’s beautiful,” Marcus said, and you smiled, closing your eyes in relief. 

Sitting back on the bed, you watched as the medicus handed your bundled up daughter to Marcus, who carried her over to you. She cried and cried, but as Marcus neared you, cooing at her, she seemed to calm. By the time she had settled in your arms, her eyes were wide and staring up at the world, eyes as dark as the night sky, but with a sea of brown, just like Marcus’.

“She is lovely,” Marcus whispered, and you nodded, lower lip trembling. She was so small, but you knew she had the heart of her father. A fighter, strong and capable. You let out a shaky breath,

“Luna,” she whispered, touching her cheek gently, and Marcus leaned his temple against your own as you both gazed at your daughter, who looked back with wonder and curiosity. 

“Our little Luna.”

5 Years Later

You were reclined in the sunning chair outside on the veranda, eyes closed and face to the sun. You sighed, feeling just at peace when a shrill cry jerked you from your slumber. You settled nearly immediately as a rumble of laughter and a fit of giggles followed soon after it.

You sighed, shaking your head and rubbing your forehead, turning to see Marcus coming up the steps with Luna on his shoulders, clutching a small, child-sized bow and a few arrows in the other hand.

“Mama! Look what Papa brought for me!” she cried, though she had excitedly showed you the gift the hour before right when Marcus arrived home to give it to her. You smiled, and nodded, sitting up from the chair.

“I see, my love. Did he teach you how to aim?” you laughed as Marcus set her down and she came running to you. You chided at her to slow down with weapons in hand, giving Marcus a look and he turned his head away to stave off laughter. 

“He did! I can make it very close to the dot! Papa says when I am older, he will teach me how to shoot from Diana’s saddle.” she said, eyes trained on the bow in hand and already trying to notch an arrow. You quickly put a hand over hers,

“Perhaps we save the weapons for outside, yes?” you questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Pap-pa! Lu-ah.” a small voice gurgled, and Marcus walked over, scooping his son off the rug he had been playing on, blocks, toy boats and wooden horses scattered about.

“I’m sorry, Sol, I promise we did not forget you!” Luna said, looking up at her brother. Marcus laid a kiss on the chubby cheek of the curly haired two year old, and you shook your head, smoothing back Luna’s own dark curls. She walked over to Marcus’ legs, holding up the bow and arrows,

“I can teach you how to shoot, Sol! It is much fun.” She said excitedly, and you stood, shaking your head and put your hands on her shoulders, bending down,

“I think Maia has a treat for you in the kitchen. Something about fresh fruits from the west?” you whispered and Luna began to jump excitedly, already about to break off into a run until you told her to leave the weapons at your side. She did so, but with a pout, and ran into the villa.

“You spoil that child,” you laughed, turning to Marcus as he bounced Sol in his arms gently,

“Only because she is sweet to begin with. Just like her mother.” Marcus chuckled, and leaned down to give you a peck on the lips. You put your hand over the arm that supported Sol, and smiled.

“It is good to have you back,” you said softly. He chuckled, walking with you to the edge of the veranda that overlooked the sea.

“I was only gone for a few weeks, my love.” he reminded you, and you shrugged, looking down as Sol leaned his head on Marcus’ shoulder, sucking on his tiny fingers. You smiled at the child, his dark eyes looking at you with a softness that his father had within his own.

“Still. Feels like ages.” you said, and looked out to the rolling waves in the distance. Even still, high up on the cliff, the salty sea air reached your skin, your nose, your tastebuds. After Luna was born, you had asked Marcus to move your family to the sea, where you wanted to raise your child. It reminded you of home, even if the memory was faint. 

Marcus made it happen without another word.

And then, after three years from Luna’s birth, you welcomed Sol. You and Marcus had yearned for a boy, or at least another healthy child to love, adore, and keep Luna company. When he was born, he was easily the sun in your sky, and Luna was the moon. You had your entire world in the form of two small but feisty children, and Marcus was the entire reason why they were here in the first place.

“I promise, I will not leave for so long next time.” he said, his free hand coming to your waist as your hand came to support Sol’s back.

“Good. I will hold you to that promise, my love.” you said, raising your eyebrows and kissed his lips gently. Sol squirmed between the two of you, and let out a light cry of hunger. You raised your eyebrows, and extended your arms to him. Sol immediately picked up his head, arms flying out to you and you scooped him into your arms with ease.

“I think he likes you more,” Marcus chuckled, putting a hand on your lower back as you turned to walk inside. You looked up at Marcus with a smile as Sol tucked his face into the crook of your neck,

“Don’t speak too soon. You said that about Luna, now look at her. You’ve turned her into one of the fiercest warriors of the land, and she has you wrapped around her finger.” you said, a small, teasing smile on your lips. He kissed your head gently with a smile, and walked with you into the dining area where a spread was waiting for you, Luna standing at the far side of the room with Maia, the head housemaid. Hastily wiping her face, the red still stained Luna’s cheeks anyway as she jogged over to you and Marcus. Marcus caught her in his arms, and picked her up to settle her on his hip. 

“Oh, Mama, it was so good! Maia said Papa brought them, and they were just as good as those fruits that grow in the garden. Maybe we can plant some and make our own!” Luna said, swinging her feet against Marcus’ sides, and you raised your eyebrows. 

“If that is what you want, my love, then we will make it so.” Marcus said, unable to deny his daughter of anything. You smiled, unable to veto the decision by the pure adoration in his eyes as he looked at her. 

“Yes, we will make it so.”

When the children were settled in their beds, (and only after you and Marcus thrilled them with stories of heroes and bravery), you found time to draw a quick, warm bath to ease Marcus after his long journey. He protested it, claiming he wanted to be with you and only you. You chided him, saying he smelled of horses and dirt, and he relented. It took very little convincing to get him to do much of anything these days after Luna and Sol’s births. He was absolutely enamored with his children, and they were the center of his world. Right next to you, of course.

Marcus had taken the sponge to himself with haste, and you shook your head, taking some oils and rubbing them on your hands, walking behind him.

“I see where Luna gets her distaste for the bath from, now.” you laughed, and put your hands on his shoulders that shined with water and scented oils. “Relax, my love. Let me take care of you,” you said, and he sighed as you began to dig your fingers into his shoulders, massaging them gently.

“You take care of so much, mea amata, it is I who should be taking care of you,” he said, wincing at the release of the tension in his muscles. You leaned down your head next to his,

“I think I know of a way you can do that,” you said with a smirk and he tilted his head back and around, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

“Anything you wish, my love. Anything, and more.” he said and you smiled against his lips, pulling away and working at his shoulders.

You laid on your back in the bedchamber, the soft glow of the candles around you offering the only light, save for the moon that shined through the window, bringing in the soft ocean breeze. You were just about to close your eyes when the bed dipped beside you, and Marcus crawled up next to you, laying his body over yours. He reached up and pulled your nightgown out of the way to kiss your chest, then up your neck. You hummed in delight, feeling his hand snake up your leg, then thigh, underneath the gown. 

“I have missed my dearest wife. Thought of you every single moment,” he murmured against your skin. You raised a hand to thread through his hair, and smiled gently.

“Every moment?” you questioned with a teasing lilt. He mumbled something against your neck, and he began to suck there gently, moving on top of you. He lifted your leg to wrap around his waist, and he began to grind his pelvis into yours with a gentleness that was definitely holding back more.

“Mhm. Every moment. Thoughts of you, especially, before Sol’s birth. Gods, the way you were so round and glowing. Made me feel insatiable.” he murmured, kissing up to your jaw. You did remember quite well that he was particularly loving on you when you were still heavily pregnant with Sol, so much that he worshiped you nearly every night like he was at the altar of Venus. Every time you felt displaced, unworthy of his gaze, he rectified it every time by absolutely ravishing you.

And you never complained once. 

His words made your lower stomach tighten, and you sighed, turning your head to bury your nose in his salt and pepper curls, inhaling the scent of oils and Marcus’ essence itself. You smoothed down the wetness, kissing his forehead gently as he continued to lave your neck and jaw, his ministrations against your core unrelenting. You curled your leg around him just a bit more, and you could feel him smirk against your skin.

“My lovely, beautiful wife. Glowing with every bit as she carried our child, our love within her,” he said, and moaned against your skin, his stiff cock brushing against your cunt. You whined gently, and he reached his hand down to push up your dress, finding your core already soaking with slick, sliding a finger in quickly and with ease that made you gasp. “I loved seeing you this way, so full of me and swollen, letting everyone know who you belong to when we would go to town.”

“Marcus,” you whined as he began to pump his finger in and out, and at the sound of his name he slid another finger in. Your hand gripped his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his exposed flesh as your hips bucked into his hand. He finally, finally raised his head to capture your lips in a searing hot kiss. You devoured him with a hunger you had been feeling for weeks, your instincts taking over as you wished for him to take you in any way he wished. “Marcus, please-”

When he removed his fingers to move down your body, you groaned in protest, attempting to grab his hair to pull him back up to you. But, he pushed your dress up higher onto your waist, and looked at your slick core that was on display for him. His amber eyes were alight, and he licked his lips hungrily.

“Gods, I have missed you,” he said breathily, though you weren’t sure if he meant you or your aching cunt. You didn’t have time to ask, for he ducked his head and began to devour your cunt like a man starved of food and sustenance for ages. You leaned your head back on the pillows, eyes screwing shut as he worshiped your folds, then moved to your clit to swirl around it with his tongue. Your thighs stiffened, but his arms came around to hold them still within a moment. He grunted and groaned into your cunt, his tongue doing wonders to soothe the ache between your legs. 

Your hand finally latched onto the curls that were beginning to dry, and you could feel yourself coming to a peak. Marcus knew you so well, that he kept up his pace, giving your clit a good suck. You breathed in and out heavily, mind spinning with desire and lust. 

“I-I missed you- and th-this-” you whispered, and you could feel Marcus smirk against your core. 

“Mhm? Show me, then,” he said as he lifted his head just enough, sliding a finger in to keep up where his tongue had left off. You glanced down at him, his eyes finding yours, clouded over with a passionate hunger and immense adoration. His mouth was shining with slick, evident by the candlelight, and he bent his head down to continue. Your body shuddered, trying to curl in on itself as he licked, sucked, and thrust at your cunt. His hand pressed on your lower stomach, and began to massage it as he gave a particularly loving suck to your clit. And that sent you over the edge. 

You let out a restrained moan, body shivering as you struggled to contain your noises so as to not wake the house or children. Marcus lapped at your come greedily, not pulling away until your body had sufficiently taken what he had to give. 

But, he was not done yet, and neither were you.

You lifted your head just slightly to find Marcus already eye-level with you, giving you a kiss that made your head only clouded further, tasting yourself on his lips. You licked his bottom lip, raising a hand to press against his cheek as you felt his member press against your core that still pulsed for him. 

“When did you disrobe?” you giggled, not remembering him doing so as your hand traveled down his neck to his bare chest where a smatter of grey and brown hair adorned him. He smirked, chuckling lowly,

“When you were still reeling from my worship of you, my love.” 

Your hand continued to move south on the planes of his body, taking in the soft skin littered with scars that had healed over time. Your hand finally found what it was seeking, and wrapped around his hot, stiff member. It immediately twitched in your grasp, and you felt precum drip onto your hand. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and you began to pump him with a firmness and insistence. He jerked his hips into your touch, the bed shaking just slightly. He intended to make it rock tonight.

“Are you going to take me, Marcus?” you whispered, trying to be sultry, but it came out more as a whine. He shuddered as you gave him a few more pumps before lining him up at your entrance. “Give me everything, Marcus. Please.” 

“Everything?” he questioned, panting into your neck and capturing your lips in a kiss, slowly sliding himself into your weeping cunt. He shuddered, his own breath unsteady as yours sucked in tightly. “And what of you? What if I spilled my seed inside of you again, hm? Would you give me another child? One more?” 

With a slight thrust, your legs came to wrap around him tightly, holding onto his back for dear life. You nodded quickly, giving him a soft but high pitched “yes.” You could feel him chuckle into your neck, and then lifted his head to kiss your lips deeply. His thrusts became more deep, wanton, dragging himself in and out that made your toes curl and your cunt pulse around him incessantly. 

“Gods, Gods, I have missed you,” he murmured, lifting a hand to press against your cheek before using it to support himself as his hips grinded against your own. You opened your mouth against his, your hand moving from his cheek to curl into his hair. You lifted your hips to meet his own, his cock hairs edging your clit on further. Your eyes began to shut in the throes of pleasure,

“No, no, mea amata, I want you to look at me as I come inside you,” he said lowly, and your eyes flew open at a sharp thrust that made you gasp. You could barely nod as his thrusts began to ravage your body, shaking the bed slightly. “I want to see you as I give you another child. To see you like that again, fuck, I-”

Marcus had talked himself into his own orgasm, and you would have laughed had your head not been spinning and your own body reacting to his come that painted your walls white, so much that it seeped out of you and onto the bed. You moaned softly, the sensation causing you to reach your second peak that night, his cock sliding in and out of you until he was spent. He shivered, panting deeply,

“I am sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to waste myself so soon-”

Your body still pulsed, but you let out a shaky laugh, kissing his lips deeply.

“I know you did not, but it’s quite alright,” you said, your breath hitching at another wave of your orgasm still reverberated through you. “To know I still- I still make you feel that way, it is worth it.” 

He stilled as you both came down from your respective highs, and slid out gently. You exhaled sharply, and you felt his fingers push his come back inside of you,

“Do you think this one will be a boy or a girl?” he questioned, his fingers massaging your insides gently and you shuddered, unable to speak. “I suppose it does not matter. We will love them all the same.” he said, and you nodded, your breathing evening out as he slipped his fingers away from inside you, shifting to lay on his side. You turned into his chest, laying a kiss on his collarbone as your hand splayed on his neck. He leaned his chin on your head, his arms enveloping you.

“I hope this one bears fruit. But, I will not stop my efforts, for I-”

“Marcus?” you hummed, and he stilled, and you giggled gently into his chest. You moved your body against his, curling a leg around his waist. He smoothed your hair down on the back of your head gently, and you knew he wanted to say more, but finally steeled himself from doing so. 

“While I do not think you should ever stop, you do not have to worry about this one.” You said, your finger tracing his collarbone lightly. He froze, his hand resting on the back of your head and you lifted it gently to gaze at him. He was already looking down at you, 

“How long have you-?”

“A few weeks. Just after you left, really. I had my suspicions, and the medicus confirmed them.” you said, and couldn’t help but smile at the tears that began to brim in his eyes. He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you closer to his face. 

“I love you,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against yours. You smiled, and giggled gently,

“I love you, too, my dearest one,” and his hand moved to curve over your stomach, though nothing had shown yet. Still, he cradled it and massaged it gently, like he was already comforting the child.

“I do suppose we should thank Juno for our gifts. She is the reason they are here in the first place,” he chuckled, and you smiled, shaking your head. You did have her to thank, yes. And that first sunset, and that first dance, and the immense effort Marcus took to bring you back to him. 

All of it had brought you your children, a loving husband, and a life you could truly cherish. 

And it all started with the sun, and ended with the moon. You would gaze at the stars as Marcus slept soundly next to you, his hand around you protectively. All you could ever ask for, tucked away on the cliff of a seaside villa. 

And when dawn breaks, you would cherish it all over again. 

Comments, likes, reblogs- anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

Thank you for reading. It has been a lovely ride with these two. <3

[usomads]

Can you do a Valentine’s Day story with Kenny Omega x Fem Reader ?

Kenny and the reader are married and have a romantic night together consisting of dinner , and a romantic bath leading into love making. Thanks in advance!

You Taste Better // Kenny Omega x Reader

Author’s Note -> Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been so busy recently between moving, visiting family, and then some things that have come up but I’m hoping I get a little more consistent with writing pretty soon. I’m not usually one to write about fluffy stuff like this, but since the day calls for it I guess I’ll do it.. just this once 😉 as always, happy reading!

Pairings -> Kenny Omega x Fem!Reader

Warnings -> Fluff galore, Cursing, Hickies, Fingering, Handjob, Unprotected P in V, Not Proofread, MDNI

Word Count -> 2.3k

Valentine’s Day: a day for extravagant gestures, lavish gifts, and world-class dinners. But this year, your first Valentine’s Day married to Kenny, things would look differently. He insisted– begged even, that the two of you stay home and he’d handle everything.

“I got this,” he’d said confidently this morning, kissing your forehead and disappearing into the kitchen.

But now, as you stood in the doorway, arms crossed in amusement, you watched your husband fumble his way through cooking dinner for the two of you. Adorned in a simple black tee and sweatpants, Kenny was the epitome of domestic charm– if not a little bit chaotic. Steak sizzles in a pan while a pot of mashed potatoes sits abandoned on the counter, a wooden spoon resting near the edge of the countertop.

“You’re supposed to stir those, babe,” you pointed out, holding back laughter.

Kenny turned, a sheepish grin on his face. “I was… getting to it.”

You shake your head, walking over to him and taking the utensil from him, giving the potatoes a much needed stir. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, planting a soft kiss to your hair and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re interfering with my master plan,” he murmurs, lips brushing the skin under your ear.

“You looked like you needed some help, babe.”

“I’ll admit to needing you, but that’s nothing new.” His hands slide down your waist, pulling you closer to him. You breathe out a sigh, now having your own troubles focusing on the potatoes. He chuckles at you, kissing your temple before pulling away to finish with the steaks. 

Dinner eventually made its way to the table– not perfect by any means but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You and Kenny sit across from each other, candlelight flickering between you, casting a warm glow on his face. He pours you a glass of wine, making a toast to another year together.

“To my beautiful wife,” he says, his voice soft now. “The one person makes every win, every loss, and everything in between worth it.”

Your heart melts at his words and you know for a fact that right now, there is no place you’d rather be than here. No five-star restaurant, no elaborate trip, nothing could compare to the serenity of this moment. As chaotic as it was trying to get dinner together, you wouldn’t trade this for the world.

You continue with dinner, making conversation and occasionally flirting and cracking jokes back and forth as you finish your meal. The two of you finish eating and Kenny stands first, gathering your plates and placing them in the kitchen before coming back to the table and extending his hand to yours– taking it and leading you upstairs. The second you step foot into the bathroom, your breath hitches in your throat. The tub was already filled with warm water and full of bubbles, the air thick with the soothing scent of vanilla and sandalwood. Rose petals decorated the water and tile floor, with dozens of candles flickering around the room– the only source of light.

You turn to him. “When did you do all this?”

Kenny smirks. “I have my ways.”

With gentle hands he undresses you, his fingers trailing slowly down your arms before guiding you into the water. Warmth envelopes you, relaxing your muscles as you watch Kenny undress himself. He slips in behind you, pulling you into his chest. His arms snake around your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your bare shoulder.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N,” he murmurs.

You lean back against him, sighing contentedly. “Best one yet, baby.”

The two of you relax in each other’s embrace, soaking in the moment– one that you don’t get often with how often he’s on the road. You feel the water ripple beside you as he brings his arms out of the water, cupping water in his hands as he rinses your hair. He reaches for your shampoo– the one you bought specifically because he loves the scent, and gathers some in his hands before lathering it and bringing his hands to your hair. He massages your scalp, his hands warm and deliberate, working the soap through your roots and ends before rinsing it out. He follows with body wash, his body wash, and rubs the skin along your shoulders and chest– kneading the tension out of your muscles. The soft glide of his fingers sends shivers along your spine and soon his lips follow, brushing the sensitive skin of your ear once more.

“Kenny…” Your voice barely whispers.

He hums, his hands drifting lower. “I told you– I got this.”

The water ripples as he turns you to face him, rinsing the soap from your body. He watches the water cascade from your skin, his eyes dark with something deeper than just affection, then brings his hand to your cheek. His thumb brushes your lips before capturing them in a kiss– slow, passionate, and filled with all the love in the world.

You melt in his arms, your fingers threading through his damp hair as his hands explore your body under the water. His touch is gentle yet firm, teasing yet possessive. The steam wraps around you both, the heat between you far exceeding that of the water.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his lips swollen and red from the kissing, his breathing heavy. “You are so damn beautiful.”

Your heart races as he trails his kisses lower, his mouth finding the most sensitive spots along your neck, your collarbone, and lower still. His fingers ghost over your thigh, spreading warmth in their wake. 

“I think we need to take this somewhere more… comfortable,” he whispers, his voice husky.

You nod, breathless, as he stood, water dripping from his toned body. He holds out his hand, helping you out of the tub before wrapping a plush towel around you. But the moment your feet touch the floor, he lifts you into his arms, carrying you into the bedroom. You take in the sights around you– rose petals scattering across the bedroom floor and your shared bed, a bottle of Dom Pérignon resting on ice, and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries.

A giggle escapes you. “So, dinner and a bath weren’t enough?”

Kenny smirks, sitting you on the bed gently. “Oh love,” he murmurs, he presses a kiss to your cheek, “the night’s just getting started. Here,” He hands you a flute of champagne. “To us.”

You both sip your glasses as he reaches for a strawberry, swirling it in the air playfully before bringing it to your lips.

“You know, they say strawberries are an aphrodisiac.”

You smirk, staring into his eyes as you take a slow bite, your fingers brushing his. “Mmm… then I guess you’re trying to get me in trouble tonight.”

He laughs, taking another sip of his champagne. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just celebrating.”

You raise your glass to his, your eyes darkening with something deeper. “To celebrating, then. And to you– my favorite indulgence.”

You clink glasses, sipping slowly, your eyes locked on one another over the rim. You reach for a strawberry, holding it between your fingers before pressing it gently against his lips.

“Your turn.”

He takes a bite, licking a stray bit of chocolate from his lip. “Delicious. But I think you taste even better.”

He groans softly, setting his glass aside before leaning in, his fingers tilting your chin up. Your lips meet, warm and unhurried, tasting of champagne and chocolate. His hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer and guiding you towards the center of the bed. Your fingers intertwine themselves in his hair, tugging gently at the strands along the nape of his neck, drawing a soft groan from his lips. The towels that had clung to your bodies were now long gone, laying on the floor in a heap as you were now chest to chest– skin to skin. The warmth radiated between you, heartbeats in sync, moving together as one. 

His fingers trail down your body faintly, ghosting along your freshly bathed skin directly where you needed him most. They danced along the flesh of your thighs, moving ever so delicately towards your aching heat as his lips found the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and gently sucking fresh marks along your jaw. You whine in a mixture of pleasure and frustration, your body calling to him for more. 

“Be patient, baby,” he breathes into your skin, “I’m in no rush tonight.”

Kenny’s lips find yours once more and you sigh in content, his fingers growing closer and closer to your glistening core. You shiver when his digits finally reach you, your eyes fluttering closed as he drags his fingers through your wetness, finding your clit and rubbing soft circles into the swollen bud. You hiss, your head falling onto the mattress as you finally feel relief from this burning tension. Your hips unconsciously follow his movements, your body desperate for more– dying for more.

You weren’t the only one silently begging for release, however, as his hardened cock pressed into your thigh– and for a moment you swore you could practically feel him throbbing against you. You wrap your fingers around his shaft, pumping his cock with your hand, earning a guttural moan from him. His head falls in the crook of your neck, soft moans and groans being breathed into your ear as you stroked him. It was then that his fingers teased your entrance, entering you one at a time, and thrusting into you with slow and deliberate movements.

His voice is husky and full of lust as he whispers in your ear, “Fuck, Y/N… still so fuckin’ tight for me…”

“Means you gotta fuck me more, baby,” you breathe out, the curling of his fingers inside you having you nearly breathless.

He growls, lifting his head and resting his forehead on yours. His eyes are trained on you, watching your face contort with the slow thrust of his fingers as he himself tries to keep his composure from your touch on his cock. He pulls himself away from your hand, removing his fingers from inside you much to your protest, and instead teases your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Later. Right now,” his lips brush against yours, mere centimeters away from pressing them together again, “I wanna make love to you, baby.”

You gasp as his length slowly enters you, stretching you around him– your walls molding to the size of him. You’ve had sex with Kenny countless times, but he never fails to take your breath away every time he pushes himself inside you. His eyes stare into yours as you bite your lip, and you’re convinced you’ve drawn blood, but all of your thoughts melt away as Kenny stares at you lovingly while he buries himself deeper inside you. He stops as he’s bottomed out inside you, a breathy moan falling from his lips as he locks your lips again, devoting every ounce of love and passion into the kiss. He doesn’t stop kissing you as he begins to rock his hips against yours, his cock slowly thrusting inside you.

Whimpers and moans escape you with every movement of his hips, your body overcome with pleasure as he delivers on his promise to make love to you. He pulls away from your lips, breathing heavier as he brings your legs to his hips, letting them interlock around his waist as his slow thrusts continue. You moan his name like a mantra, the sounds of your lovemaking echoing your shared bedroom. 

“O–oh, Kenny…”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so beautiful.” He peppers kisses along your cheeks, and with each new location they find he utters compliments, affirmations, and most of all– proclamations of his love for you. He feels your pussy flutter around him with each sentence, your body telling him you believe each word that falls from his lips, but most importantly– that you’re close to your release. His fingers find your clit once more, resuming his soft circling motions which makes you cry out for him even more. 

“K–Kenny, baby, I–”

“Eyes on me, baby…” he mutters, “Wanna watch you cum for me. I’ve got you.”

Your eyes open to his already looking into yours, and you feel it. The love, the passion, the desire, all combined and manifested into one single gaze. It’s this gaze that sends you over the edge, your orgasm rippling through you– powerful and warm, just like him. His follows suit, his eyes never leaving yours as he releases himself inside you.

The two of you ride out your respective orgasms together, heartbeats still as one, the rise and fall of your chests in unison. Nothing else matters in this moment, the entire world has completely faded from existence– it’s just you and Kenny. The two of you. Together as one.

He pulls out of you slowly and you whine at the loss, feeling incomplete without him consuming every ounce of you, and he chuckles– pulling you into his chest. 

“So, how’d I do, baby?” he mutters, placing a kiss below your ear.

“Not too bad, so long as you don’t forget about those candles like you did the potatoes.” You giggle, gesturing to the candles in the bathroom, still burning bright.

“Fuck!” Kenny scrambles out of bed, running to the bathroom as you laugh at him, your heart full of nothing but love and admiration– despite the domestic chaos. 

[secondgenerationnerd]

Valentine’s Day

What’s this? A BBRae fic in 2025?! Enjoy 😘 (left on a cliff hanger if anyone wants to request the ✨spice✨)

——————

“Mama, I swear you get prettier every year.”

“Thank you, love.” Raven glances in her vanity mirror to her daughter. Emi hangs upside down in her parents’ bed, violet hair falling free from its scrunchie. Oversized Star Wars shirt that she suspects is actually her boyfriend’s tied over sweatpants. Completely at ease in her body, like her children always have been.

“I swear it’s dark magic.” Emi continues, stretching her arms to the floor.

“If I didn’t know better, Emerson Marie, I’d think you want something.”

Rather than her usual faux outrage, Emi shifts effortlessly into a panther, stretching before settling back down. Raven will never not be amazed at her family’s shifting. Violet fur sprouts along her daughter’s body, her clothes melting away. Bones shifting into the great cat’s. It once scared her—what if it hurt her babies?— but her husband reassured her it wasn’t painful in the slightest.

Tail lazily flicking in air as Emi speaks, “What has the world come to that I can’t call my mother beautiful? Without nefarious reasons?”

Familiar footsteps head towards them as Raven reaches for her kohl, “Blame your father.”

“Oh, absolutely blame me.” Gar agrees, leaning against the bedroom door, “I’ve been calling your mother beautiful everyday for 22 years and there’s always a nefarious reason.”

Rae winks at her husband, “That’s how we ended up with Emi and Eli.”

“We could always add another,” he purrs.

Their daughter’s snort, which was odd coming from her shifted form, pulls their attention to her, “Dad, you and Mama are a few months away from no kids. Do you really want to restart that clock?”

An ache starts the older heroes’ hearts. Emi had told them about her plans to move out with her boyfriend, Parker, before the end of May. Eli, never far behind his twin, had been looking for his own place. Pride’s too small a word for how they feel towards their children’s accomplishments….but time had gone too fast.

“Ugh, I can sssssssmell the pheromonesssssss from my room.” A purple scaled cobra coils its way up the bed, Eli’s voice coming from its hissing mouth. “What did you ssssssssay, Em?”

"First, the hissing? Dramatic even for you." She ignores her younger twin sticking his tongue out, "Second, just that they're almost child free."

"What do you think about another sibling, Eli?" Gar asks, now sat by his wife as she finishes her make up. Looking over her lipsticks as he always does for dates.

Shifting as easily as his sister, a now human Eli does lean into his dramatic nature, "Father, Baba, He who sired me and mine sister...The last thing this family needs is another magical shapeshifter. More importantly, I'm the baby of this family and plan to keep the title, thank you."

That makes his parents laugh. Their children have always been many things, but babies? Both children had always been fiercely independent with a love of life. The only reason they hadn't moved out sooner is a simple fact--They love their parents and the home they made.

"Somehow, better than when Wally threatens his kids with that." Raven muses, turning to face her husband. He plucks up her favorite lipstick. Gently holding her chin as he drags the color over her lips.

"Mmmm I dunno, Dad." Emi says, flicking her brother with her tail, "I'd pay to see Irey and Jai throw hands with a baby."

"Given that Irey has a baby, I doubt we'll see that." Gar snorts, blotting the lipstick before kissing Raven, "You, Rae, are gorgeous."

"Get a room." Eli groans.

Raven winks at Gar, "That's what our hotel stay is for. If you have your cousins over, please remind them we don't need noise complaints from the shouting.

"And here I was just going to invite my boyfriend over so we could have wild sex." Emi deadpans, shifting back. "Speaking of, I have my own date to get ready for."

"You and Parker going anywhere fun, love?"

"Just that new horror movie, maybe try that pop-up market after." Emi shrugs. "What about you and Dad?"

"We're meeting your Uncle Vic and Aunt Karen at Naan Stop." Raven stands, smoothing the front of her dress. The underbust corset had been a pain to get on, but she loves how it feels and looks. Gar moves to their closet, grabbing his matching button down. The rich purple color makes his green skin look jewel like...and the way he rolls the cuff up reminds her of what's under her dress. But that's for later.

"Ugh," The twins wrinkle their noses, Eli sliding off the bed. "I'm getting out of here, the pheromones are awful."

"That's hilarious coming from the biggest slut in here." Emi laughs, following her brother. Raven rolls her eyes as their children bickering fades. Strong arms wrap around her from behind. A warm kiss pressing to her neck make her turn, hands resting on her husband's chest.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Rachel."

"Happy Valentine's Day, Garfield." She kisses him, smiling against his lips. How had she even denied herself the joy she had with this man? "Now, let's go. I'm starving...and you're going to need energy for later."

[bullborn]

[joemama-2]

throughout the entire ceremony and reception, gojo can’t keep his eyes and hands off of you. maybe it’s the excitement of finally being husband and wife, or the sheer thrill of what’s to come afterwards.

because everyone knows, the after party is always better than the actual event.

you just look so beautiful, so enchanting, so….his. it’s a pain to just opt for making out in the back of the limo on the way back to your hotel because he’s forcing himself to wait. wait until you two are finally alone. wait until he can just finally show you much of a good husband he is.

there’s rose pedals, a glass of champagne, a huge heart shaped bed, dim lighting, a spacious suite, a beautiful balcony that overlooks the darkened tokyo skyline. it smells like warm sugar.

everything is perfect.

well, not as perfect as seeing you lay down on the bed, still in that expensive, but memorable white dress. your hair down and slightly messy from the dancing and alcohol. cheeks flushed and a dopey smile on your face. he mirrors your expression, his own inebriation coming into play because you weren’t the only one who drank more than you could handle.

he’s unbuttoning his white button up, freeing his broad chest. working next on the belt of his slacks that are too tight to hide his growing tent. all the while, he’s keeping his eyes on yours. stalking towards your figure on the bed. he starts by raising your ankles, your heels having been discarded already.

planting kiss after kiss, the tip of his nose being shoved against your skin as he inhales your scent deeply. he’s working his way up from your white, manicured toenail to your tempting cleavage, then to the crook of your neck, the top of your hair, and finally…your lips.

it’s a sweet and soft kiss, one that lingers and one that further solidifies the new union of love between two souls.

it’s only when he pulls back, breath mingling with yours, eyes glued to each other, his hands paused on your thighs, body slotted between them, that he realizes…

you’re his wife.

it’s his wedding night, and you’re here as his wife, his life-long partner. the woman who he’ll stay with through sickness and good health, and vice versa. the woman he’ll have children with. the woman he’ll grow old with. the woman who he’ll be buried with, his skeleton cradling yours until enough time has passed on earth where you two are nothing but a faded memory for your future generations.

his wife.

his wife who’s currently laid out in front like an offering to him.

yeah, he’s breaking the bed.