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a-weird-writer · 2 years

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I want to hear about being Rimuru's wifey 🥺

(How long would it take for you to be killed by his many jealous wannabe wifeys though LOL)

OK, FINE. I can give a little juice.

Rimuru Tempest is confident in a number of different things. Lords are not without their pride; Rimuru undergoes significant evolution-literally and figuratively-as a monster and as an individual playing his role as King of Monsters.

But marriage sure ain't one of them!

Can't tell the first thing about it, not diddly squat.

Not all hope is lost, however. You're a team in this, together till the end. Sworn by hearts, promised in bonds. Tethered by fated rings, by your fingers. Even with his face in the ground, glued in the sand, you're dedicated as ever, stubborn in the face of conflict. By his side forevermore, inspiring. He just has to get back on track, stand again, puff his chest to swallow some big boy pills; boost his esteem, maintain faith and confidence. Lovers help each other, so prop up! Words cannot describe his appreciation, his respect. And it's not just you, he isn't as alone as he thinks he is, never. A whole kingdom of monsters is watching your backs, a little too eager to lend a hand in serenading you both.

Rimuru isn't that stupid! There's a groom and bride with a bunch of lovely dovely flowers and shit, literally all he knows. His previous lifetime was kind of pathetic and unromantic. Pretty depressing in entirety, sad in truth. He never married or attended weddings in his lost world, let alone the current one. Is marriage even the same here as it is in Japan? For all Rimuru knows, marriage kisses ass and costs butt loads of unnecessary money.

So fucking clueless, tree stumped.

Rimuru is a slime, but a Demon Lord slime, not to be looked down upon. Power, wealth and a whole kingdom by his side! He can learn to husband, no sweat! He can do this! And do you.

Something he always does is dot on you like you're the next Tom Cruise. Bubbly and bashful, all to delight you. No strings attached, anything you might like; can only hope it hits a not too big dent in his wallet. He doesn't want to overdo, come across as too zealous. But doing so makes him do exactly that (Overthinks sometimes, stresses, running Tempest requires a great deal of weight and planning). Appropriate gifts left and right, showering you in attention. Things you favor, as if he needs to prove himself over every little thing. Things Shuna told him you favor. His wife is the best thing that ever happened to him since his rebirth. The closest thing to his heart, a part of his family, the family he would die protecting. Being King isn't paradise. Its plenty stressful and he worries, a lot.

To Rimuru, you work wonders just by sitting down with him. His wife's presence eases everything his horrible day threw at him, accepting a place shaped with your legs, fitting perfectly. A seat perfect for a king, your leggy pot full of bubbly blue jelly. Your hands drag across him in smooth feathery strokes, his slimy form flowing along the slow movements as thick ocean currents. Carefully gliding, washing away the negativity and pressure off his shoulders. Replaced with care and comfort, a love only a wife can give. In this embrace, a tangling of different bodies, your gentle pets are heaven. Warm water, slipping through your fingers like glass. Holding him so tenderly in your lap, afraid he will slide off at any moment. Don't worry, he stays right where he is. Careless of how "jealous" the others might get. Will get. Take a hint Shion. He just snuggles deeper, instantly relaxed. Chill in your own makeshift hug.

Rimuru especially loves travel. Sightseeing, a passion Satoru Mikami dreamed of before reincarnation. Exploring, experiencing and visiting every corner of the world, seeing places in the glorious landscapes of his thriving nation. A piece of Eden Heaven can't hope to compare. Beauty exists to be seen.

It won't take a mile to enjoy himself, Rimuru is a regular guy who likes regular things. Married anime couple things. Simple things. Like counting clouds and trees, wishing on shooting stars, telling fairy tales. Minty to your taste. Breathing fresh air and enjoying food together, basking in beloved company. Even with that in mind, still gives it the best he can provide, turn it more meaningful and loving, memorable. The best views, best stops, best everything. He can't go out to genuinely enjoy life with his wife as much as he wants to, until retirement. Every moment must be worth treasuring, so when he does have time aplenty, its twice as entertaining.

Nothing wins Rimuru over faster than a tasty meal. Consider food dates his favorite type of date; since Rimuru lost his sense of taste as a slime, he incredibly values taste. One of the few things left of his humanity. From breakfast, lunch, dinner and desserts. Bonus points if you cook for him; Rimuru quite literally melts, enjoying these get togethers is the prime of his day.

May even muster up the courage to do that cliche anime trope. You know the one.

That single trope all anime protagonists do; a classic, desperate loser move to flirt with their lover. Rimuru cringes at the mere thought of it, drowning in sweat. Shuddering. Makes him sink into himself and never peek back out. Embarrassed. Rimuru will blame it on cold weather. Wants to do it so damn badly but...

Fucking cliche, like his life isn't already an anime. He wants to run in the opposite direction and quickly slip into a lonely hole in the ground because he was not made for this:

Feeding you directly from his spoon.

Kill him please.

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hiddencitywaters · 5 months

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@hiddenstarters

Evangeline Fox had been through many things in her life, but showing up in a new land was definitely new. Since regaining her memories and getting away from Apollo , her future husband, she had learned to roll with the punches. To hope for something better. Her fancy dress seemed out of place around this city. Jack's knife hidden in her bodice. "Hello!" she tried at a shadowy figure. Not her usual sureness. "Could you tell me where we are and point me to an inn?"

#musings: Evangeline fox #hw: starter #hw:starter #// don't know if these are triggers so I will tag them anyway just to be sure #tw marriage #marriage tw #weapon tw #tw weapon

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selfshippingquotes · 1 year

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S/I, talking to F/O: Never in my life have I met someone as repulsive as you are. Marry me.

#f/o #self ship #selfship #selfshipping #selfship quotes #fictional other #f/o x s/i #marriage tw #tw marriage #marriage cw #cw marriage

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ace-bard · 2 years

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Gets married under the aro flag, gets railed under the ace flag

#i am 100% serious #sex favorable #sex favorable ace #sex favorable asexual #cupiosexual #romance favorable #partnering aro #cupioromantic #tw marriage #tw sex mention #mildly nsft #ask to tag

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yumnasfunblog · 9 months

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Stuff that happened in Super Paper Mario

Princess Peach and Bowser get married. This causes a world-destroying hole to appear in the sky

The gaang thinks it's Bowser who kidnapped peach but it was another dude entirely

Mario, Peach, and Bowser all die due to Dimentio just showing up in the middle of the heroes' headquarters and just murdering them just like that

One of the pure hearts (the powerful object the heroes need to defeat the bad guy) turns out to have been turned into an actual alive girl and she chooses to essentially die and turn back into an inanimate object

Luigi dies too due to Dimentio straight up betraying and murdering him

A whole world just dies. When you go back it's all white with a bit of wreckage. It's not the only world that dies

You actually really do feel the whole 'everything is going to die' vibe in the last world

Luigi is turned into a bad guy named Mr. L

Mimi successfully manages to trick the heroes into endless labor (essentially slavery), delay them, trick them into thinking she's the good guy more than once, and turns into a robo spider.

Mimi literally explodes. On-screen. Then she's back somehow. This is given no explanation.

#super paper mario #tw marriage #tw death #tw forced marriage #tw kidnapping #tw murder #tw slavery #tw spiders #tw explosion

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earl-grey-love · 2 months

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Ultimate brainrot. Highest degree brainrot.

#I revisit this card story every so often #I think it's my favourite?#its from cinderella's dream. its a memory card.#features every dateable character also insisiting they will marry mc #but nope. its barbs. 🥰#sunny speaks #ship: anything for you dear #sorry for spam posting pics today Im in a good mood #tw marriage

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theoreticslut · 2 years

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「 to new love 」

fred weasley x fem reader

summary: you should have bit your tongue, but luckily your best friend is willing to help you out of a hole you dug for yourself.

requested: written for @onlyfreds’ 1k writing challenge!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: marriage/wedding, brief mention of alcohol, mutual pining, pet names (princess, darling, baby, pretty baby), bed sharing, love confessions, heavy use of physical touch

a/n: ahhhh! not gonna lie, it’s been a hot minute since i’ve written anything for fred - which is weird bc i was writing a ton for him at one point. anyways, here’s a cute little wedding-set fic with the tropes ‘fake dating,’ ‘only one bed,’ & the prompt ‘are you even listening to me?’ i will admit this is also a college au, and a slight modern au fic, but it is what it is. it works, so hopefully you all enjoy it! Xx

If you could go back three months in time and slap yourself, you would. If you just hadn’t said anything when your cousin was going on about it ‘being okay that you’ve never dated…even though you’re 21,’ you wouldn’t be in this position.

You wouldn’t be sitting here in one of the many lounges on campus, leg bouncing as you chew on your bottom lip. You certainly wouldn’t be sitting here entertaining the idea of simply finding a fake boyfriend for the weekend.

Too lost in your worries and trying to find a solution, you completely forget that you’re sitting with your best friend. That is until you hear your special nickname. The one only he is allowed to call you - princess.

Looking up at him, all you can do is hum, eyebrows raised as you try to recall what he said, but unfortunately the words completely fail you. You hadn’t been paying attention in the slightest.

“I said that you’re going to chew your lip off if you keep doing that.” Fred chuckles, shaking his head as you duck your head slightly.

“What’re you thinking so hard about anyways?”

“Nothing. I just…I said something really dumb a few months ago and it’s biting me in the ass. Violently.” You sigh, frowning as you bounce the pen you’ve been holding between your thumb and forefinger.

How could you have been so stupid? Was it not embarrassing enough to not have a boyfriend already? Did you really need to add to it by agreeing to bring the boyfriend you don’t have to the wedding as your date?

“It can’t be that bad. We all say stupid shit, princess.”

“Have you ever told your family you’d bring your boyfriend - that you don’t have - to a wedding?” You counter, positive he’s never said anything quite that stupid.

“Well, considering I’m into girls…no.”

You can’t help but groan as Fred jokes, laughing with a wide smile as you roll your eyes.

“This isn’t funny, Freddie! The wedding is this weekend and I couldn’t be more single if I tried.”

“Do you think I’d be able to get one of those, like, male escorts on such short notice?” You question, completely serious as you think of anything you can do to save yourself the embarrassment of showing up to the wedding solo.

“I’m not even sure they have anything like that around here, darling.”

“They don’t have to be local. As long as they’re willing to travel, I’ll take them.”

“You’re serious?! I thought you were joking. You’d really hire some stranger online to play your boyfriend for the weekend?”

You nod, shrugging your shoulders. If that’s what it takes, then yeah. You’d do it.

Watching you, all Fred can do is half laugh, half scoff as he shakes his head. He can’t believe you’d actually hire a stranger instead of admitting you’re single - even if you made up some excuse for it like you and said boyfriend recently broke up.

Fred hasn’t known you terribly long, only since you met in an intro class about a year and a half ago after you transferred here. However, he has learned in that relatively short time that you wouldn’t be freaking out if the issue wasn’t important to you in some way or another.

“Save yourself the money, princess. If you’re really that desperate for a plus one, I’ll go.” He huffs out a little chuckle, smiling nonchalantly as he pretends to focus on the book he’d been reading for class.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. I mean, what’s a weekend away from campus with wedding cake if not a small piece of heaven?”

“You realize you’d be my boyfriend for the weekend, right? Like we’d have to act like a couple?”

“Yeah? Can’t be that hard. We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Well, yeah, but…Fred we’d have to like…kiss, and hold hands, and whatnot. You’re okay with that?” You question, not sure he knows what he’s signing up for.

You’re not against him being your faux boyfriend, but you need to make sure he’s okay with it all. Sure, you’d have to try harder than normal to keep your feelings for the redhead hidden, but it’s only three days. You’re sure you can manage.

“If it’ll make this weekend easier for you, then yeah. I mean, we’ve held hands before, and it’s not like we’d be the first friends to kiss.”

“I guess…” you mumble, brows furrowed as you try to imagine kissing Fred.

Although it’s rather easy to picture kissing him, it’s hard to picture it being just a favour for the weekend. You don’t think you could kiss him with no feelings attached, which makes your stomach flip. It would be easier, and probably more comfortable, if Fred played your boyfriend though, the potential mess of emotions be damned.

“Alright. If you’re sure, then let’s do it. Let’s be a couple for the weekend, Freddie.”

~.~

You can’t help but tap your fingers, rather vigorously, against the steering wheel as Queen plays through the radio. It’s been about three hours since you and Fred got on the road, and every mile that you get closer, the more nauseous you get.

This needs to work. You need your family to believe that you and Fred are dating, and have been for some time.

“Take a breath, princess. You look like you’re going to be sick.”

“I just might.” You retort as your stomach thrashes with nerves.

“Do you really think they’ll believe us? Like, maybe we should go over our story?”

“I think we’ll be fine, princess, but if it’ll help calm you down, then sure. Let’s go over our story.” Fred smiles, placing a hand on your thigh to comfort you.

His touch does help to comfort you, especially when he starts rubbing his thumb over your clothed skin, but it also happens to make your stomach flip more. Not to mention that his touch makes your heart beat wildly.

You rarely admit it to yourself, and even less so to anyone else, but you do have a crush on your best friend. A massive, ‘I want to hold you and kiss you and do what other couples do’ crush. How cliche is that?

It’s not like you can help it though. He’s insanely attractive, and he’s got an alluring personality. Not only is he kind, and funny, and considerate, but he knows how to be fun while still taking things seriously. He makes you feel at home in a place that couldn’t be farther from one, and even then it’s the thought of him that makes you feel at home in your childhood house.

“Yeah? Alright, uh, where do we start? Should we go over how we met, or?”

“You know that we don’t need some elaborate lie, right? We can use some of our actual friendship as the basis of this fake relationship.”

“I know that.”

“Do you? Tell me then, how did we meet, princess?”

“You sat next to me in Cognition.”

“Good. Do you remember how we started talking?”

“How could I forget, Fred? You asked me for a pen and then proceeded to flirt with me.” You laugh, shaking your head at the absurd idea of you ever forgetting that.

There you were, sitting in class and already anxious because you were afraid of not making friends, when this breath-taking redhead sat next to you. You could tell how attractive he was with a single glance, and that only made you more anxious. Talking to those you found attractive has always been hard for you, but luckily he made the first move.

“Yeah, but it made you laugh, did it not? I swear to god, I could feel how anxious you were as soon as I sat down.”

“Surprisingly, it did. I’m still not sure how I got the courage to talk to you.”

“However you did it, I’m glad.”

You glance over at him as you chew on your bottom lip, finding a smile resting happily on his lips.

“Me too.” You murmur, being a hundred percent honest. Befriending Fred has been one the best decisions you’ve ever made.

“So we have how we met covered. How long have we been dating?”

“Uhm, well it’s been four months since I told my cousin I had a boyfriend…”

“…and I’d made it sound like I had been with someone for a little while before I told her so…I don’t know? Five or six months?” You suggest, cocking a brow at Fred for his opinion.

“Let’s say six months then. That way it lines up with when we went ice skating together. You remember that?”

“Yeah. You’d ask me to open skate - which I sucked at, by the way. Afterwards we went out to McDonald’s and sat in the parking lot eating and talking for, god, seems like hours.”

“Mhm. You shared a lot about your family that night, and even some of your deepest thoughts.”

“I did, and you didn’t make me feel silly or less than for them.”

“I never once even thought about doing so.” He comments, patting his hand against your thigh gently.

“I really appreciate it.” You murmur, feeling your cheeks warm up slightly as you keep your focus on the road, too afraid to look over at him.

In your peripheral, though, you catch him smiling and nodding as he squeezes your thigh to let you know he heard you.

~.~

The wedding is in an hour and you still don’t feel ready. Aside from sleeping in later than you had wanted, you don’t feel comfortable or pretty in the slightest. On top of it all, though, you feel your heart racing as your entire being feels jittery - your nerves ravaging your mind and body.

“How’re you doing in there, princess? We should probably be leaving soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should. I just…” you trail off mid sentence as you click your tongue, walking out into the shared room.

“Does this look okay?”

At your question you feel Fred look up at you from the bed the two of you shared even as you stare at your reflection in the hallway mirror.

A moment seems to pass without a response, which makes your heart race even more. You should have brought a second option, but you decided against it.

“Fred? It looks awful, doesn’t it?”

“No…no. You look, you look amazing, y/n.” Fred murmurs, and you finally take a moment to look at him.

He seems completely enamored with your appearance, which warms your cheeks and chest ever so slightly. You’ve never been one that boys look at, or at least you’ve never been one to notice if guys look at you. With the way Fred’s eyes carefully trail down your body, though, it’s hard to miss his adoration-tinged shock.

“Really? Well, uh, thank you.” You softly reply, your cheeks burning as you shy away from his gaze.

“We should get going then. I figure if we get there a bit early we can hopefully find a decent seat.”

As you talk you start to bounce throughout the room as you grab everything you need - last minute jewelry, perfume, phone, keys, etc.

“I’m pretty sure the wedding is only supposed to last like a half hour, but then there’s the reception which is a little bit of a drive.”

“They’ll be having a little cocktail hour with some snacks before things really get started, though. Oh! I need their gift. Is that still in the car?” You question, pausing your pacing as you look at Fred.

“Are you even listening to me, Freddie?”

“Hmm? Yeah. ‘Course I am.”

You can’t help but sigh lightly as you shake your head with a soft smile. You’re 95% sure he hasn’t heard a word you spoke since asking about your appearance. He was far too blank-faced and hazy-eyed to have been paying attention.

“Is their wedding gift still in the car?” You reiterate, deciding against teasing him for being distracted.

In all honesty, the fact that he was distracted by you makes you feel giddy. Maybe there’s a chance that you’re not the only one in this friendship that has feelings. Not that you actually believe there is such a chance, but it’s a nice thought.

“Yeah. I left it on the back floorboard where you had set it.”

“Okay. Let’s go then, yeah? Time to try to fool my family.”

Fred nods, smiling as he gets up from the bed, adjusting his dress pants and button down shirt. He even finished off his outfit with a tie, which you have to admit really brings it all together. He looks good. So good that you’re not sure how you’re going to pretend that the fawning you’re sure to do is simply an act.

Regardless, you don’t let yourself worry about it as Fred wraps his arm through yours, making you giggle as he leads you out of the hotel room. This - “dating” your best friend - is definitely better than hiring some stranger online.

~.~

“Y/n! I’m glad you could make it.”

You smile as your cousin comes up to where you and Fred are standing by the bar, a smile on her face as she hugs you. Even though you had dug yourself a hole for this event, you have to admit it is a rather wonderful evening. It’s even better to see her so happy, though.

“You knew I would. I wouldn’t dream of missing this.”

“I know, but it’s still nice to see you.”

“It is. Feels like we only really see each other at big family events like this. I’m so happy for you though. The ceremony was beautiful.” You smile, fidgeting with your fingers holding your champagne flute.

Fred notices you getting anxious, so he brings his hand up to rest on your waist in a small act of comfort. It definitely helps, especially when he gently rubs his thumb in small circles over your dress. You’ll never be able to thank him enough for this weekend, nor will you ever be able to convince yourself that this is all just an act.

“Thank you. I’m glad it wasn’t too long or anything.” she smiles and you nod.

“Definitely. It was nice. Perfectly short and sweet.”

“Kinda like you, huh?” Fred murmurs, leaning in so only you can hear him.

You can’t help the shy smile and warmth that settles on your face, chewing on your lip as a means to keep yourself in check. Although it makes complete sense for him to act flirty with you, for some reason your mind completely skipped that thought meaning you were, woefully, unprepared for such words and the way they’d affect you. If you make it out of this weekend alive, it will truthfully be a miracle.

“Oh, uhm, y/c/n this is Fred. Fred, y/c/n.” You introduce the two, Fred holding a hand out to greet her as she smiles.

“Nice to meet you, Fred.”

“You know, y/n, I hate to say I didn’t actually believe you at first, but you two…you’re cute together. I’m glad you’ve found someone to make you happy.”

“Thank you. He, uhm, he does make me really happy.” You stammer, feeling your heart skip a beat as you look up at the redhead to find him already looking at you.

“I’m glad. You deserve it.”

You nod, smiling a little wider as you turn your attention back to your cousin, trying to ignore the heavy weight settling on your chest that makes it hard to breathe.

This isn’t real. You’re lying to everyone, including yourself and Fred. Fred believes that all of this - your words, behaviour, everything - is simply for show, but it’s not faked in the slightest. You like, maybe even love, him at this point. There’s no way you can easily go back to just being friends after this. Not when you have a taste of what it’d be like to be his girlfriend, for real.

~.~

“Are you getting tired, princess?” Fred murmurs, his breath warm against your skin while his hands sit around your waist as the two of you dance to a slow song.

It’s been hours now since the wedding, and although it’s been fun, you’re exhausted. The two of you have done more than your fair share of dancing. On its own, dancing is tiring, but you’ve done all of it in heels. You could easily pass out in bed right now.

“A bit.”

“Just a bit?” He teases, a smile settling on his lips as he chuckles, watching as you roll your eyes with the tiniest smile on your lips.

“I think it’s time we get back to the hotel. What do you say?”

All you can manage is a hum and slight nod of your head in response, drawing a soft chuckle from Fred as he helps support your weight. He’s seen you tired before, and while he has always found it endearing, being the one you rely on in your exhaustion is an entirely different feeling.

It’s difficult to explain, but it’s almost like his heart is inflating far past its limits. It’s hard to breathe steadily. It’s nearly impossible to wipe a smile off his lips. Not to mention the fact that he just wants to hold you and never let go.

“We gotta say our goodbyes first, Freddie.” you inform, absentmindedly sighing at the thought of having to do anything else.

“Then let’s do that, yeah? You’re exhausted, darling.”

You can’t suppress the smile that quirks your lips at the pet name, but you can’t manage to say anything. Instead, you work on mustering up any energy you have left to be able to say goodbye to those of your family that remain at the reception.

As soon as you’re done wishing everyone goodnight, Fred helps you out to the car, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist. He’s honestly been the perfect boyfriend today, and you desperately wish you could just keep this going. Do you really have to stop pretending to be in a relationship after tonight?

“You’re thinking awful hard over there, princess.” Fred points out as he drives through the city towards your hotel.

“Am I?” You tease, drawing a smile to Fred’s lips.

“Mhm. Wanna share what’s on your mind?”

“Just been thinking of today, Freddie. Thank you. For doing all of this, I mean.”

“Of course, princess. You’re my best friend. I could never leave you hanging in times of need.”

“I still appreciate it, though. I truly don’t know how to thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve already got some ideas for you.” He mumbles, a smile evident in his voice.

“Yeah? What would those be?”

At your question, all Fred can do is smile, which makes you smile but leaves you confused all the same.

~.~

“I don’t wanna change, Fred. I’m so tired.” You nearly whine in reply to his suggestion as he taps your leg that’s hanging off the bed.

“You’ll sleep better if you do, though, princess. If you’re so tired, I can help you?”

“Would you?”

“Mhm. Long as you’re okay with it.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay with it, Fred. ‘M so tired. Don’t wanna move.”

“I know, princess. It’s okay. Just gotta tell me where your things are.” Fred coaxes, pushing some hair out of your face.

“In my bag on the desk.”

You watch him nod, a soft smile on his lips as he gets up to grab your pajamas. As he digs around, you gather just enough energy to push yourself up from the bed so you can shuffle to the bathroom. Although it really doesn’t faze you, you figure it’d be better if you took your makeup off and undid your hair instead of sleeping in it all.

“You alright, darling? You disappeared on me.” Fred questions, leaning on the bathroom door frame as he watches you in the mirror.

“Mhm. Jus’ taking my makeup off, Freddie.”

“Alright, baby. I’ve got your pajamas right here when you’re ready.”

You nod, the traces of a smile on your lips as you watch Fred through the mirror as well. He takes a moment to watch you as you wipe at your eyes, but then he’s moving to stand behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re really quite beautiful, you know that?” He murmurs, his eyes still on your reflection.

Humming, you go to shake your head but he stops you before you can. Squeezing you in his arms, he turns his head to bury his face in your neck.

You can feel his breath against your skin, and for a moment it feels like he wants to kiss your neck, but he never does. Instead he turns his head to look at you in the mirror again.

“You are. Never say it because I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but you are.”

“You’re beautiful all dolled up like this, but you’re beautiful in sweats and a messy bun as you sit in class, too. You’re just…really pretty, darling. A pretty baby.” He sighs, meeting your eyes through the mirror, holding your gaze for a moment as you study him.

He’s never this soft and vulnerable with you, but you’re not complaining. It might make your heart race inside your chest, but you don’t mind one bit, not when this is exactly what you’ve been wanting for nearly a year now.

“The wedding’s over, you know. You don’t have to be so sweet on me, Freddie.” You mumble, not really wanting to break whatever this moment is, but you find it hard to let yourself fall into any unnecessary sweet talk in case he’s still just playing. You can’t handle getting your heart broken by your own hands.

“What if I want to be sweet on you?”

“Then I guess I can’t stop you.”

“Good, because I don’t wanna stop. Not yet.” he murmurs, arms still wrapped tightly around your waist as he watches you through the mirror.

You’re almost afraid that he can read each and every one of your emotions, but if he can, he doesn’t say anything.

“You wanna get changed now?”

“Yeah…Can you, can you undo my dress? It was such a bitch to get on.” You huff, making him chuckle as he nods, a wide smile on his face.

“‘Course, princess. Move your hair f’me.”

There’s no stopping the shiver that runs through your spine as Fred unzips your dress, carefully pushing the straps down your shoulders as you try to keep your breasts covered, having forgone a traditional bra for the day.

Fred helps you pull your sleep shirt over your head, assisting you in getting your arms through the holes as you hold your dress up. The last thing you want to do is flash Fred right now.

Within a few minutes, though, you’re out of your dress and in your pajamas, slowly trudging your way to the bed as Fred changes his clothes.

Although you and Fred shared the double bed last night, something feels different tonight as you wait for him to crawl under the covers. Maybe it’s the way he’s still acting so sweet on you, but maybe it’s your own wish to not yet stop this act. Whatever it may be, it makes your palms sweat and body jitter.

“You’re not sleeping yet? Thought you’d be passed out by now.” Fred comments as he makes his way to the bed, turning off lights as he goes.

“Were you waiting for me, princess?”

“Not really. Just trying to get comfy.” You mumble, not necessarily lying as you watch him climb into bed, pulling the covers over himself after getting comfortable.

Facing you, you watch as a little smile sits on his lips, his eyes seeming to scan your face. What he’s looking for, though - if he’s even looking for anything to begin with - is past you.

“Can I tell you something, princess?”

“Mhm.”

“I like you.” He admits, voice soft as the two of you nearly stare into each other’s eyes.

“You…like me?”

“Mhm. Have for a while.”

“Truthfully, the entire reason I offered to be your boyfriend for the weekend was so I could pretend you were mine for a day. Is that bad?” he questions, searching your eyes for any sort of answer.

“Can I tell you something?”

“‘Course, darling.”

“I like you too. Have for a while.” You murmur, smiling as you copy his words while a heat creeps up and over the apples of your cheeks.

At your admission, a smile grows on Fred’s face before he’s wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his chest. A small shriek leaving your body as he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead with little hesitation.

Without it being explicitly said, you know that you’re his, just as much as he is now yours. Truthfully, this is the last thing you expected of this weekend. Out of all the possibilities you pictured, not one included Fred admitting his feelings for you. Sure, it may have been a daydream, but you never thought there was a chance of it happening.

It’s a little ironic how it took a wedding for the two of you to take that first step, but maybe someday down the road you won’t simply be attending a wedding as a fake couple, but rather as bride and groom.

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pls like & reblog if you enjoyed!

join my taglist(s)!

#onlyfreds' 1k wc #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #hp fanfic #hp fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fake dating #only one bed #modern au #college au #tw wedding #tw marriage

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edgewrightworth · 4 days

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i made some homestuck style sprites with farragofiction and js paint, based on @gorillaprutt's fanart of their wedding

#homestuck sprite edit #fanquill #ace attorney #uendo toneido #simon blackquill #kisegawa #tw marriage #sorry for the mention haha!

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vroomian · 6 months

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sometimes I rember that there exist people for whom being married isn’t an absolute miserable slog

#If my parents like each other I’ve never seen evidence of it #I remember we were moving and some people were helping us and this one guy was talking to his wife and clearly just. Enjoying her presence.#It blew my mind #I didn’t know that people could like each other and be married!#30 years and tbh my moms clearly just waiting for my dad to die because he’s way older than her #vrrm vrrm #Tw marriage #I Guess?#idk what to tag this lol

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selfshippingquotes · 2 years

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S/I: Reason one of why I married F/O is so if anyone messes with them, I can yell, "THAT'S MY SPOUSE!" and knock them out in one punch.

S/I: Reason two is love, I guess.

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quillfulwriter · 7 months

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Hupetra cuteness for flufftober! 💗

Words: 2k | Rating: T

☕ Tip me on coffee if you liked the read!

#hupetra #flufftober #flufftober 2023 #hubert von vestra #petra macneary #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #my fanfiction #read the tags on ao3 #tw marriage #cw marriage

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a-lil-perspective · 2 years

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Hunter: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night.

Tech: You were flirting with Cyare.

Hunter: So? We’re married.

Tech: You asked her if she was single.

Hunter:

Tech: And then cried when she said she wasn’t.

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stargazer-sims · 2 years

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previously...

56 - San Myshuno (part one)

Dylan has no idea where the week went.

He doesn’t care where it went, really. For the past six days, he and Derek have been on a practically nonstop thrill ride from one end of the San Myshuno city limits to the other. He's pretty sure he hasn't been completely sober since Monday night, and he's eaten so much amazing food that it makes him wonder why he hadn't been dining at restaurants more often prior to this. Derek talked him into going shopping after all, and they've been to see the street art exhibition, and they've both gotten new tattoos. In short, he's having the most fun he's had in ages, maybe since the last summer he spent in the trailer park, before his final year of university.

Their adventure has had its downsides too, unfortunately. They got kicked out of their first hotel because the impromptu party that sprang up when they invited some people they'd met at a club back to their room got a bit too noisy. It'd gone on past three o'clock in the morning, and the night manager had apparently received more than a few complaints about it.

Although they didn't get arrested or charged, the police were called. That'd been a scene, especially when the officers recognized one the people they were with as a known petty criminal. Luckily, that guy had behaved himself in front of the cops. Things could've been a lot worse otherwise.

Currently, they're staying in less reputable accommodations, and if Dylan is being completely honest, it's a place he feels far more at home in than the previous one. The walls are thin and there are suspicious stains on the floor in his room, but the bathroom and the bedsheets are clean, and the diner next door has awesome all-you-can-eat breakfasts.

He finds that he's comforted, falling asleep to the sound of traffic and to all the noises of the city’s humanity around him. In this place, people aren't just existing; they're living. No one is putting up a façade of class and respectability. No one is holding anything back for the sake of politeness or public image. All of it is real and it's raw, and Dylan can't deny that he loves it.

Another advantage of their current motel is that it's cheap enough for them each to have their own room. This has worked out in Derek's favour particularly, since it means he's been able to bring in all the women he wants. There have been several, and Dylan is astounded that his brother hasn't had to pay any of them to entertain him. All of his women have been random clubgoers who, for whatever reason, find Derek irresistible and can't wait to have their way with him.

Dylan, for his part, hasn't brought anyone back to his room. Watcher knows, he's wanted to, though. He'd met a sweet boy last night who made him start to get hard just by looking longingly at him from under his thick, dark eyelashes. The boy, with his mop of black hair, peach fuzz beard and gorgeous brown eyes, was called Nadim, and he was suitably impressed that he didn't need to teach Dylan how to pronounce it correctly. He'd sat on Dylan's lap for nearly half an hour while they both drank straight vodka shots. Nadim put his hands in places where Dylan hadn't been touched in at least a couple of months and told him all the things he could do to him, if only Dylan would take him home.

Nadim swore up and down that he was nineteen, but Dylan knows an underage kid with a fake ID when he sees one. After all, he'd been an underage kid with a fake ID himself once. That was one of the things that kept him from inviting the beautiful boy to spend the night with him. Regardless of anything else, he definitely did not want to get into trouble for sleeping with someone who wasn't a legal adult yet.

"You really need to go find someone your own age to play with," he'd told Nadim. "I'm too old for you."

"But, I want you," Nadim whined, somehow managing to pull himself even further onto Dylan's lap, so that their faces were just centimeters apart. "Can't you tell how much I want you?"

Dylan could tell, and that was the problem. He ran his hands down Nadim's sides and over his tiny hips, and the boy squirmed and moaned. Dylan gave his thigh a gentle squeeze. "I think you'd almost be worth the risk, but I can't do it."

"I won't tell anybody," Nadim said, almost breathless. He put his hand over Dylan’s and tried to guide it. "No one has to know."

"Believe me, I'd love to do everything you want, but you and I both know that I'd get in trouble if I did. You're what? Seventeen?"

"I'm nineteen," Nadim insisted, but the way his golden brown skin darkened across his cheekbones told Dylan he was lying.

"How much would you have asked me for?"

"For you? I'd do it for free. You seem nicer than the usual. I actually want to, with you.”

"How much?" Dylan persisted.

"A hundred dollars," Nadim told him, looking embarrassed. "But, I'll do it for free. I promise. Top, bottom, whatever you want."

"No." Dylan wiggled his wallet out of his pocket and gave Nadim some money. "You can tell everyone how mind-blowing I was."

Nadim pouted, but didn't refuse the cash. "I think you would be. I would've liked to find out."

"Look me up in two years, when I'm divorced and you're legal." And when I haven't got a fucking parasite in my abdominal cavity.

Admittedly disappointed and most definitely unsatiated, he watched Nadim saunter off. He would've enjoyed a night with such an eager boy, and things might've ended differently if Nadim really had been nineteen.

But, maybe it was for the best that he'd caught Nadim in a lie about his true age. It meant he would have to satisfy himself, but he supposed that was better than having to answer awkward questions if the alternative should ever have come to the attention of the wrong people.

And there was Zahir to think about as well. As much as Dylan's entire body ached for what Nadim had offered him, in the end he knows he would've felt guilty for betraying the man he still loves, no matter how hurt and angry he is at the moment. Yes, he wants to make Zahir suffer for mistreating him, but not like that, not in a way that would guarantee they'd never reconcile.

Contrary to what he'd said to Nadim, he doesn't want a divorce. Zahir might not give a rat's ass about his mental health or his wellbeing right now, but some small part of him hopes that will change. If only they could come up with a solution that wouldn't completely wreck Dylan's future and would somehow still be acceptable to Zahir, then maybe there'd be a chance of getting something close to their old life back.

Intellectually, he realizes this entire line of thought is stupid, of course. In reality, there is no solution that can work for both sides. Either Dylan gets what he wants, or Zahir does. Perhaps they will get back together at some point, but it'll never be like it was. There's no possible way it could be. The moment he let Dr. Zira stick a needle into his stomach, they were locked into a new trajectory, one which was destined to destroy everything good that they'd spent the past fifteen years working for. He just hadn't seen that until it was too late.

Why had he even agreed to it? He's asked himself this question a thousand times.

He recalls what he claimed his reasons were, but they hardly make sense to him now. He isn't so overflowing with love that he needs to spread it outward to an extra person. He wants to shower all of it on Zahir, and he wants Zahir to give all his devotion to him in return. The real reason for doing it was because he thought it was what Zahir wanted, and he wanted to make him happy. He'd convinced himself that Zahir's potential happiness was enough to make him happy too, but that's turned out to be a fallacy.

In the beginning, he may have tricked himself into believing that everything was going to be fine, and he may even have thought he'd been interested enough to see it through. But then, things started to get challenging, and he became the object of Zahir's constant nagging and harassment. He began to crack, and it was then that he understood perfectly what an absolutely fucking huge mistake he'd made in agreeing to do something so drastic, solely on the basis of pleasing his husband.

He should have known better. He's spent the majority of his life trying to please the people around him, and it's never made him happy, not once.

When he thinks about the times he's been happiest, they haven't involved hard work, achievements, money or success. Playing the piano, gardening, cooking with his mom, tinkering around with old electronics out in the garage with his dad, pizza and beer and bonfires in the back yard with Derek and their cousins are the things that make him feel most settled and content. Playing on the beach with Zahir, travelling with him, wandering around secondhand bookshops with him, bringing him breakfast in bed on rainy Sundays, walking hand-in-hand downtown, and cuddling in front of the fire; that's his spiritual happy place.

Sure, he likes having money and a nice house, and he enjoys his job, but he doesn't need any of that. He could have done something else with his life, something meaningful and fulfilling. His dream job might not have paid as well as being a software engineer does, but at least he wouldn't have had to cram himself into a mold that was created by someone else and which was never meant for him.

He imagines himself as a professional musician, like he always said he wanted to be. He could spend his days practicing and composing. Maybe he wouldn't be rich, but he'd be doing what he was really passionate about. He could live in the trailer park, among his people, and nobody would care if his house and yard weren't immaculate or if he wore nothing but sweatpants and flip-flops every day. He could have a beer on the front porch, eat mac and cheese straight from the pot he'd cooked it in, and race motorcycles on Saturday nights. Nobody would give a fuck how many times a day he said 'fuck', and nobody would say he lacked etiquette, because they'd hardly have room to criticize him about that.

It might not sound idyllic to some people — it wouldn't to Zahir — but Dylan is positive it's the life he was meant to lead all along. Instead, he's trapped in a world of manicured lawns, professional networking events, refined manners and proper speech, and special forks for salad, dinner and dessert. And with sudden, painful clarity, he realizes he hates it. The only part of it he cares about is Zahir, but he could no more expect his affluent, well-bred husband to leave his neat and tidy existence than he can expect himself to continue pretending to be happy in a world where he so obviously does not belong.

So, he can live the way he wants, but with a Zahir-sized rip in his soul, or he can stay with his love and be tied down by the drudgery of parenthood and miserable in his forced fake sophistication. Either way, he loses something vital. It's all dead ends, no matter which way he turns.

He'd finally convinced Derek that he wasn't suicidal, but Watcher damn it all, maybe he is. Disappearing off the face of the earth would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to figure out what he's supposed to do from here. It'd be so simple too, in a place like this. Someone could give him something that would make him fall asleep and ensure that he'd never wake up. He's too big a coward to jump off a bridge or a building. He'd much rather go painlessly and quietly, and not be terrified in his last moments.

He stares into his glass. If he's contemplating this, obviously he's not drunk enough.

Tonight, he and Derek are at a club called The Spice. It's a different venue than the one they visited last night, where he'd met sweet, sexy little Nadim. They'd chosen this club because while they'd been wandering around town in the afternoon, Derek spotted a poster advertising live music here this evening. They're flying home tomorrow, so they've decided to make their last night in San Myshuno a good one, and what better way than with booze, ecstasy, and a live band? He knows he's going to feel like shit in the morning, but he'll have fun tonight. He can always sleep on the plane.

The band hasn't come out yet. Right now, there's a DJ who's also pretty good. The band should be starting soon, though, judging by the number of people bustling around the area on the dancefloor that's been marked off as the stage.

Dylan watches them for a while. He pulls in a sharp breath and nearly aspirates on a mouthful of liquor when he thinks he recognizes one of them.

Derek gives him a puzzled look. "You okay?"

"Uh... yeah." Dylan coughs a few times. "Sorry. I just... saw somebody."

"Oh, yeah? Someone caught your eye?"

"You could say that."

"I'll bet it's that guy with the braids, isn't it?" says Derek. "Dude in that gay-looking glittery jacket? He looks like he'd know his way around another guy's bedroom."

"He's married," says Dylan.

"What? How the fuck would you know that?"

"I kinda know him from support group."

"You mean the weird alien science support group? The pregnant dude support group?" Derek scrutinizes the man in the purple jacket. "He doesn't look pregnant. He looks fit as fuck. Like, you can tell from here that he's totally fuckin' ripped. Good choice, bro. I'd probably want a piece of that too, if I swung the other way."

"He's not pregnant," Dylan says. "His husband is. Anyway, I doubt I'd ever get near him like that even if I wanted to, which I don't. He treats his husband like fucking royalty. It's like, as far as he's concerned, the sun rises and sets on Félix."

"Lucky Félix," says Derek. "Weird question, but does he look pregnant?”

“Who, Félix?”

“Yeah.”

“Why do you want to know that?”

“I don’t know. I guess ‘cause I’m curious. You’re pregnant but you don’t look like it, so I was just wondering."

"Can you not remind me about the pregnancy, please?"

"Sorry,” says Derek. “But, does he? Look pregnant, I mean.”

"Yeah, he does," Dylan says. “Félix is so thin, he started looking pregnant weeks ago. And he’s proud of it too, sashaying around in those stupid fucking dresses with his belly sticking out, like he's the queen of Willow Creek. And then there’s Davian acting as if he's as fragile as something made out of glass and sunbeams. It's annoying."

"So, I can tell you're not the least bit jealous at all."

"Shut the fuck up, Derek."

"Thanks for the mental image,” Derek says. “Now I'm trying to picture this skinny-ass pregnant dude in a dress."

"With a beard," says Dylan. "That really completes the look."

Derek laughs out loud and nearly spits his drink. "Oh my fuck. That's literally the weirdest shit I've heard all week."

"Those two are the living definition of weird shit. Get this. Their latest stunt is to adopt a mentally disabled alien."

"Why?" Derek asks.

"Damned if I know," Dylan says. "Probably to get noticed. I'm sure the point of pretty much everything they do is to get themselves noticed. I mean, Davian's trying to be famous. If you want people to sit up and pay attention and remember your name, then what better way to do it than to set up your own online show and then put yourself out there in the most bizarre ways you can think of?"

"Ah yeah, I see. They're those people. The 'bare their metaphorical ass and shake it in your face' type."

"Their literal ass, too. You should see the stuff Félix wears when he's not in a dress. The getup he had on at Tae's birthday party... holy shit. His top looked like, I don't even know. A fuckin' sports bra with frills, and his shorts were so short, I could see part of the tattoo on his ass when he bent over to pick up something. Like, seriously, the only time you'd see more skin is if you went to the beach."

"Okay, then. 'The tattoo on his ass' isn’t a phrase you hear every day."

“Well, he does have one.”

“Seriously? Who actually tattoos their ass?”

“The same person who thinks ‘slutty cross-dresser’ is a fashion aesthetic, I guess.”

“Bro, I’m picturing it, and I gotta say I’m not sure whether I should laugh or cringe.” Derek quirks an eyebrow. "The crop tops and short-shorts must look super attractive with the pregnant belly."

"If you really wanna know, they do."

Dylan looks up abruptly at the sound of a new voice in the conversation. He'd stopped watching the stage area while he and Derek were talking, and he hadn't been aware that Davian had left it. Now, the tall, muscular man is standing next to their table, arms folded across his broad chest, copious gold jewelry and purple sequined suit jacket glinting in the club's multi-coloured lights.

Dylan suffers a very real moment of panic, but he recovers quickly, probably thanks to all the alcohol and controlled substances in his bloodstream. They're making him feel kind of bulletproof, really.

He conjures up a smile and says casually, "Hey, Davian. Big coincidence, seeing you. How long have you been standing there?”

"Don't 'hey Davian' me, you asshole," Davian growls. "I've been standing here long enough."

"Oh shit," Derek mutters, probably just loud enough for Dylan to hear.

"What are you doing here, Dylan?" Davian demands. "And why the fuck are you talking about my Félix?"

"It's none of your business why we're here," Derek interjects.

"Nobody asked you," Davian says. He gestures at Dylan. "I'm talking to this trash bag."

"Excuse me?" says Dylan.

"As if I didn't already have a low opinion of you," Davian tells him. "You're in a place like this, showing absolutely zero regard for yourself and your poor kid, not to mention your husband, and now I come up on you talking shit about mine? Félix tried to be your friend, you know. He was fuckin' worried about you, and here you are talking about him like he's the one who's trash."

"Well, I'm sorry to have worried his pretty little head when he's in such a delicate condition," Dylan says. "But, as you can see, I'm fine."

"No, you are way far from fine," says Davian.

"With all due respect, that's not for you to decide. Where I go and what I do is none of your business."

"Maybe not, but Zahir’s been looking for you, and I'll bet he’d like to know where you are and what you're doing. Maybe I should call him and tell him."

"You wouldn't," says Dylan.

"You don't think so?"

"Fine. Go for it, but if you do, I'll tell Félix that you were here, whoring around in San My without him."

"He wouldn't believe you," Davian says.

"Wouldn't he? You've got a reputation for that, don't you? Why do you think he wouldn't believe me?"

Davian smiles, and the effect reminds Dylan of nature documentaries, where the camera zooms in on the leopard who’s about to pounce on its prey. "Because, asshole. We're here together. He’s right behind you, over at the bar."

Dylan tries to glance over his shoulder as surreptitiously as possible. To his consternation, Félix is indeed at the bar, squeezed into a tight blue dress that accentuates his belly, and balanced on impossible sparkly stiletto heels that accentuate his slim legs. He's leaning with one hip against a bar stool, as if he's just gotten there and is planning to stay for slightly longer than the few minutes it'll take the bartender to get him his drink, but not long enough to sit down.

Davian catches his eye, and Félix gives him a flirty little wave and a seductive smile. Félix doesn't appear to notice Dylan, because he immediately turns back to the bartender and holds up two fingers like, Give me a second one of those. Dylan wonders vaguely what he ordered. Probably cranberry juice or some other healthy shit.

He guesses from the second drink that Félix expects Davian to come over and join him, but it seems Davian has his own agenda.

“Watcher almighty, what the actual fuck…?” Derek mumbles. incredulously. “He literally is a skinny-ass pregnant dude in a dress.”

Davian glares at him. “You don’t wanna go there, man.”

“Uh… right.” Derek’s expression is one of stunned disbelief. “Gotta be the drugs making me see shit.” He gulps the remainder of his drink without pausing for breath, and avoids any further eye contact with Davian.

Davian locks eyes with Dylan. He reaches around to his back pocket, and pulls out his phone. "So... you wanna start explaining yourself, or should I just call Zahir right now?"

#ts4 #sims 4 #eagames #san myshuno #Dylan Middleton #Derek Middleton #Davian St-Jean #Félix Blanchet #tw alcohol #tw drugs #tw suicide mention #tw pregnancy #tw sex work #tw marriage #tw drinking #stargazersims #aucieletoile #aucieletoile1

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