everything about them has always been less than traditional. unconventional in a sense. she wonders if the would still even be married if they werenβt the way they were. of if zeus wouldβve taken others as their wife. a finger rests beneath her chin β±
Marriages are unique, their own respective beings. Some are traditional. Others the furthest thing of. And theirs. Itβs an untamed concoction of both with a heaving dollop of toxicity. But they stayed. Zeus wouldnβt take another as his wife. Only Hera. Infidelities meant
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β± to rest there, making eyes connect. her heath pounds viciously in her chest as forehead come to rest together. as they act so tender and loving making the goddess of marriage absolutely weak in the knees. βmy sweet husbandβ she breathes out right he before they are sharing β±
β± at her knuckles. goblet is brought up to her lips , a smirk on her lips as she sips it. when said goblets are out of the way, true goddess leans up and captures their lips in a soft but deep kiss.
those words were much a part of their marriage now as they themselves. how often did hera speak them? too often. sometimes in anger. sometimes in adoration. sometimes with utter disdain and sometimes with affections. it was moments like these that kept β±
Ahhhh. How they would chuckle if privileged to her thoughts. But alas. . . Damn them. Such words are familiar and dare they say, possesses a role in their marriage. Quite often those two words leave Heraβs pliable brims. Most are mistaken. Despite their lengthy pursuits,
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β± hera here, made her forgive them and all their infidelities. made her tolerate, and that was too much of a nice word, his bastards. made her tolerate it all. just for little moments like these. her hand is gently covered by their large one, thumb softly stroking β±
damn them (β¦) how they melt her heart. their towering frame hovers over hers and a kiss is dropped to her forehead. a kiss which makes her eyes flutter close and one of her hands land against their taunt stomach. a soft smile stretches upon her lips, eyes gazing at the β±
Stormy pearls observe their wife, Queen of the Gods, stalking her motions as she completes a menial task. Something so basic. But the Goddess appears breathtaking whilst completing it, nonetheless. They push from their comfortable stance, daring to invade
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hera walks across, grabbing her own chalice and pouring wine within it. she turns, gaze landing on zeus. β oh hello dearest husband.β a gentle smile.
a hum falls from the godβs lips, towering stature content within itβs current state. fingers of ivory coil around a goblet, the rim brought to pursed lips but fail to draw a much desired sip.
the goddess of the skies turns her attention away from the flowers and to the god that has slipped into her garden. hephaestus, tall and with his limp less prominent today. β greets my son β the older goddess replies in greetings, little smile settling upon her brims.