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#the fake dating!!!
Note
For the Thenamesh Proposal AU:
Thena finds the perfect dress and is suprised by Gil’s reaction!
"What about this one?"
No, this one!
"Girls, please," Ajak said gently over her arguing daughters, both holding veils in their clutches. She patted their hands, turning over her shoulder, "I think we might be starting to smother our guest."
Thena turned, raising her hands in protest, "no, please, it's-"
"Sorry, Thena," Sersi offered her a very sweet, very contrite smile. She brought her choice in veil closer to her chest. "She's right, we're having a little too much fun playing dress-up with you."
Sorry, Makkari also smiled and plopped herself on the bench at the foot of Ajak's luxurious king sized bed.
Don't be, Thena shook her head with a smile to both of them. She really did like Gil's sisters. They were both warm and sweet, just like him, and their mother. A whole family of sweethearts, they were--even Gil's cousin Kingo, who had just arrived yesterday.
Ajak set down the last of the pile they were working through at the moment. She came over to Thena, putting her hands slightly upwards on her shoulders, "we must be overwhelming."
Thena offered a sheepish smile. She had lied to Ajak enough already, and it would be another lie to say that she wasn't used to having so many family members around. Especially all so...genuinely fond of each other. "That doesn't mean I don't like it."
Ajak laughed at Thena's reluctantly honest answer. They were also a whole family of knockouts--each and every one of them, absurdly beautiful. She still hadn't met Gil's father, the supposed demon man. But Gil described him as monstrously tall and cold as ice.
She rather thought she was quite cold, but he always told her she was more like ice cream: cold, but sweet underneath it.
"Why don't you try these without all of us fussing over you?" Ajak suggested so gently as she ran a hand over Thena's hair. Her motherly touch was so natural, in a way Thena had never really encountered for herself before. "See which ones you like and then you can show us."
Thena looked at the pile of dresses to get through before nodding. Perhaps this would expedite the process a little. Although she liked the way Sersi had described it; it was a little like playing dress-up, and it wasn't un-fun, as it were.
"Okay," Ajak clasped her hands around Thena's for a brief, tender moment before turning. She waved her hands, ushering her daughters towards the door as if she were herding lambs, or chickens. "Come on, you two, let's leave the bride to her fitting."
Thena sighed as the door closed behind them. She had never thought she would end up becoming a bride, let alone under the current...circumstances.
When Gil asked her to put on this charade with him, she was honestly surprised. He was such a sweet guy, she could barely imagining him telling anyone a lie ever in his life. But if it was for his sister's sake, he was more than willing, especially given the opportunity to embarrass his father.
And he was her best friend--not just work friend, but probably actually her best friend, all things considered.
He was apologising to her morning, noon and night, now that the charade was no longer a charade, and actually happening. He even offered to call the whole thing off, but she wanted to see it through. She liked Sersi, and she also wanted to help alleviate her burden, some.
When asked what having a marriage - annulled or divorced or whatever - would really do in her life, she had told him that it probably wouldn't make much of a difference, really. It wasn't like she had someone waiting for her back home.
Thena ran her hands over herself as she tried on the first one that had actually caught her eye. Sersi's taste was more flowery and plant based, and Ajak's was for lace and chiffon and tulle. Makkari's choices were a little...eclectic, but they tended to be a little shorter than Thena would choose for herself.
This one, though.
It was sleek, elegant without looking plain. The silk was shimmering white, tight where it needed to be but flowing off her nicely instead of being more of a mermaid fit. It sat around her shoulders in a way that felt somewhat alluring but with some of her usual penchant for coverage. It was a little more cleavage than she was used to in turtlenecks and cardigans, but she had to admit, it did look good on her.
She tilted her head at herself, running her hands over it. For as much as she had never given thought to what kind of wedding dress she would like, it certainly seemed to fit her perfectly. She had worn plenty of white dresses before - it was kind of her colour - but this one really did feel different. This really did feel like her wedding dress.
A knock.
"Come in," she smiled, expecting Ajak and her daughters to be pressing their ears to the door in anticipation. She examined some of the details of the dress a little closer. "I don't know who picked this one, but I think it's-"
"Wow."
Thena whirled around, her toes curling in the carpet as Gil smiled at her from the doorway. Ajak and his sisters were nowhere in sight. "Gil!"
"Sorry," he chuckled, stepping into the room more with his hands in his pockets. "I came looking for you because I just finished making lunch."
"Oh," she blinked, wringing her hands together. Ever since arriving, there was a nervousness cropping up here and there that she never used to experience with Gil before. Not consciously, anyway.
"You like it?"
"Hm?" she blinked, desperately trying to collect her thoughts as he walked even closer. His smile was probably the most relaxed she'd seen it since arriving.
"The dress." He looked at her in a funny way--like he had with plenty of other dresses already. She wasn't used to it. But the way he was looking at her now was like nothing she'd seen before. His eyes flicked over her and she felt an increasingly familiar wiggling under her rib cage. "It's...wow."
Thena felt herself start to blush. She wasn't used to that either. "Th-Thanks. I must admit, I think it suits me more than some of the other choices."
Gil's smile was still that one she couldn't quite identify. He stood close to her, his hand close enough to touch her arm but hovering in the air around her. "I think it's perfect."
His breath hit her ear, even moving the stray hair or two curling around it. She swallowed, which suddenly seemed suspiciously loud in her mind. "Good."
"Good," he agreed, stepping back with his smile turning into more of a grin. "I'm glad you found one you like."
"I-I suppose I am too," she mumbled, pressing her palms together again so they wouldn't seem shaky. She smiled at him, "I'll be right down."
"No rush," he shrugged, taking his good sweet time actually leaving. Every step backwards he took worsened her nerves. "That's worth the wait."
Once the door was closed again Thena let out a breath and pressed the back of her hand to her cheek. This was a far cry from herself at work, literally called the Goddess of War. She was getting a little too used to all this 'bride' stuff. She shook her head.
"Stop it," she spoke directly to herself in the mirror as she started pulling herself out of the dress. "None of this is real."
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puppyeared · 4 months
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renaissance dogys
characters belong to @canisalbus
#i love i loveeee ludovica sm shes so cute. ive only known her for 5 min but i fell in love with her design and i love her friendship#with vasco ^_^ i think them having each other makes hiding their sexualities a little less lonely so thats sweet#ik in modern au shes considered an old friend of vascos but i originally assumed she and vasco fake dated in college or smth#to get their parents off their backs until they came out properly and continued to stay in touch as friends after LMAO#im not very familiar with period fashion so i had to look at renaissance costumes as reference. but i have to admit i love the#high waistlines used in some of their dresses.. i have a minidress with a similar high waistline pressed against the chest and sleeves#also if u squint machete is holding a little paper bag in the 2nd photo which is supposed to be his lunch courtesy of vasco <3#idk what ludovica would wear in modern au but i thought poet shirts might suit her because theyre like somewhere evenly between#masc and femme. to me anyway.. based on observation lesbians seem to love poet shirts and i think she looks good in one#these are all shitposts.. ill draw serious art of them one of these days i promise#i listened to fools rush in and it reminds me of them.. especially when it goes 'though i see the danger there / if theres a chance#for me then i dont care' like its so poignant and bittersweet.. a little indulgent when u think of those small moments they have togethr#save me gay catholic furries... gay catholic furries... gay catholic furries save me#my art#myart#doodles#fanart#others ocs#canisalbus#fur#furry art#machete#vasco#vaschete#ludovica#sfw fur#furry#anthro
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE'S MINE | 01
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I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊  3.2k
author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!
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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…
But it wasn’t. 
He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 
You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 
“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 
Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 
“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 
Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.
“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 
You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 
“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 
Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 
“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”
Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 
“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 
Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.
“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”
“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 
You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 
You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”
He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 
Shit. Strike two. 
You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”
Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 
“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 
He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 
“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 
“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 
“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.
Strike three. 
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THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 
Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 
He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 
“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 
“No.” You replied bluntly.
“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 
“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”
You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 
“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 
And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 
It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 
It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.
“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 
“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”
At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 
“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 
“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 
For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.
You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 
“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 
“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 
He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”
“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 
“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”
“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 
“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 
“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 
He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.
“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 
He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 
“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”
“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 
“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 
He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 
“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”
He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.
“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 
He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 
“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 
Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 
Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”
“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 
You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 
He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 
Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 
“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 
“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 
Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp
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kaalbela · 10 months
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A Palestinian couple celebrate after their wedding ceremony as part of a protest against Israel’s separation wall. Photographed by Muhammed Muheisen on July 14, 2006 at the village of Bil'in, near the West Bank town of Ramallah. © Keystone SDA.
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Part 4 and End of Alastor's bad day Alastor survived his fake date and will probably (not) think twice in the future before trying to one-up Lucifer on unknown projects. Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
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A fake soccer date
Summary: Joel asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get the soccer moms off his back. How convenient that you're both kind of in love with each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: no outbreak, friends to lovers, FAKE DATING, mentions of dead spouse, a little angst, soccer moms (ugh), fluff, making out, smut (protected sex), dirty talk, a lot of kissing, Joel being in love, banner just for the vibes
Part of Fake Dating drabbles
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
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You understood his weekly dread of going to Sarah’s soccer matches now. 
It wasn’t the soccer or the getting up at 6 am to drive to some god awful town hours away to watch a bunch of teenage girls play ball. 
It was the soccer moms.
And Joel was the only single Dad of the group. There was flirting. There were definitely not occasion appropriate attire and cleavage. There was touching. 
And that was only what you saw as you watched him in the middle of at least six women who were fussing over him like he was the only men left alive while you made your way towards the field from the parking lot. 
He had asked you before if you would accompany him to one of Sarah’s games. 
You had been neighbours since before Sarah was born. He had inherited the fixer upper next door when he just turned twenty and made the most out of it. You had seen his life fall apart within months from the moment he found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant not long after. They had tried to get back together again. 
It was you and your late husband Andrew who had been there for him once Sarah was born and his ex had left him alone. You probably spent more times in Joel’s house than your own in those first weeks, all of you being new to taking care of a new born. 
But Sarah made it easy. 
Andrew, Joel and you grew close in the coming years. 
So close that Joel was the first one you called when you were sitting in a hospital in the early morning hours after an accident on your way back from your summer vacation. 
An accident Andrew did not survive. 
He showed up an hour later with a sleeping Sarah in his arms, holding you all night as you cried into his shoulder. 
The time after that was blurry. But you knew Joel was there every single step through your grief, right beside you. 
He was your best friend. 
And as best friends it was okay to ask you to pretend to be dating him to get the soccer moms off his back, right?
It’s not like he knew that you kind of fell in love with him over the last year, right?
With a nervous inhale you put a smile on your face as you approached Joel from behind, his broad back standing out to you in between the moms who had only eyes for him. You put one of your arms around him as you sneaked to his side, feeling him stiffen for a moment as you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He smiled down at you, instantly relaxing, his arm coming around you to pull you closer against his side. 
„Hi,“ he smiled warmly and you smiled back. 
„Sorry I’m late. The line was endless,“ you lied and he chuckled. You felt his hand rest on your hip, squeezing you lightly. 
„Glad you could make it. Sarah is gonna be excited to see you,“ he said. Like you had not seen her yesterday when you had dinner together at your house. 
He kissed your temple and you closed your eyes for a moment before you turned your head too look at the people standing around you. The women were glaring at you and didn’t even attempt to hide it. 
„If you'll excuse me ladies. We got a match to watch,“ Joel said, not waiting for an answer before he pulled you towards the field, not letting go of you. 
„I can practically feel them trying to kill me with their eyes,“ you mumbled and he huffed a laugh. 
„I told you. I didn’t even do anything. They just appear out of thin air once I get here,“ he groaned and you rolled your eyes. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d pretend to not now the looks he received from women around him. 
Joel Miller was a catch and everyone knew it. 
You came to stand at the fence separating the field and the audience, watching as the girls warmed up on the soccer field. Sarah saw you and waved wildly and you waved back with a bright smile. You felt Joel stand behind you, before his hands came down next to yours on the fence.
„Thank you for doing this,“ he hummed against your ear as he leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder for a moment. You took a deep breath. 
„Anything for you,“ you mumbled, gasping when he fell into you against the fence, someone having pushed him. You heard him groan lowly against your ear, his body flush against yours. He took a step back immediately, turning to his side but you were pretty sure you had felt his hard bulge press into your ass for a second.
You turned your head to look at him, finding his cheeks a little flushed as he looked everywhere but at you. But before you could say anything the kids coach cheered the girls on and they got into position for the game to start.
And a couple minutes later Joel was standing behind you again, and you were leaning against his strong chest, one of his arms around your stomach as you watched his daughter play soccer on the field in front of you. 
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„Are we…. Are we still pretending to be dating?“ You mumbled against his lips, your fingers unbuttoning his flannel. 
Things had…. Escalated a little. 
One of his hands was on the side of your neck, tilting your head up as his lips moved against yours, your body pressed against the wall next to his bedroom, his body caging you in. 
„Do you want to be pretending?“ He asked, his lips kissing down your throat as his other hand came to squeeze one of your tits over your shirt. 
„Cause I haven’t been all day,“ he mumbled and you gasped. 
You were both still fully clothed, having spent the whole day together on the soccer field, pretending to be dating. 
It was pretend when he held your hand while you grabbed food. 
It was pretend when he pulled you on his lap when there wasn’t enough place to sit. 
It was pretend when you went up and kissed him when one of the soccer moms had her hands on his chest. 
Right?
„Joel….“ You hummed letting you head fall against the wall as his hand slipped under your shirt and towards your chest. You finally had his flannel open your fingernails scratching over the shirt he was wearing underneath. 
„I… I don’t want to pretend. I… I want you. I want you all the time,“ you confessed, your eyes closed as he sucked on the soft skin on your neck. 
He looked at you then a small smile on his flushed lips. 
„Good,“ he simply said, before he kissed you again and pulled you towards his bedroom. 
He undressed you slowly, kissing a path from your lips down to your hips before he told you to lay down. 
With your arms spread out on his mattress you looked up at him as he got out of his clothes, biting your lip when you saw his thick cock, already glistening at the tip. 
„Dreamed of this,“ he said as he joined you on the bed, crawling on top of you, kissing you softly as he laid down between your spread legs. 
You nipples hardened as his chest brushed against yours, the only thought in your head being that you wanted him closer. Always closer.
„Yeah?“ You asked with a small smile, your fingers brushing over his back. He nodded. 
„Me too. Dreamed of this for months,“ you confessed and he kissed you again.
„Months?“ He asked kissing your nose.
„Mhh… Think I knew when you fixed my bathroom sink and explained every little step you were doing. Thought back then that I’d listen to everything you’d explain to me as long as you wouldn’t leave,“ you said quietly, a little shy. 
You parted your lips when you felt his cock slip though your folds. 
„When you held Sarah after she fell from her bike last year. I watched you with my daughter in your arms and thought to myself, fuck I’m in love with her,“ he said and you felt a tear slip out of your eyes. 
You tilted your chin up to find his lips in a deep kiss before you brought one hand down and between your bodies, hearing him moan when your fingers wrapped around his stiff cock. 
„Wanna taste you first,“ he mumbled against your lips. 
You shook your head. 
„Plenty of time for that after. Wanna feel you please,“ you pumped his cock and he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. 
„Fuck. Fuck okay. Condom?“ He asked and you grinned. 
„You got some? I’m on birth control and I trust you,“ you said. He looked at you for a moment before he shook his head. 
„The last time I didn’t use a condom with someone who was on birthcontrol I got Sarah,“ he chuckled before he pushed off of you and reached towards his bedside table, finding a little golden foil package, ripping it open and pulling it over his cock. 
He came back to kneel between your legs, one of his hands wrapped around his cock while he reached for a pillow and with a grin. 
You grinned back, arching your back as he pushed the pillow under you and under your ass before both of his hands pulled you towards him. You crossed your legs behind his ass, pulling him closer as he leaned down, lining his cock up with your pussy. 
„No more pretending,“ he whispered and you shook your head. 
„No more pretending,“ you repeated before you kissed him as he slowly pushed inside of you. 
Your lips parted against his as he slipped inside you, both of you breathing heavily, a quiet moan coming from you as he stretched you. 
You hadn’t been with anyone since your husband died and Joel wasn’t exactly small. 
"You okay?“ He asked, slowing down. 
You just nodded, before you kissed him again, finding yourself enjoying the stretch of his cock as it pushed slowly inside of you. 
„Keep going, feels so fucking good,“ you mumbled against his lips and you felt him smile as he moved, his cock moving inside of you until his whole length was filling you, both of you releasing a loud breath. 
„Should have done this sooner,“ he said as he pulled back and began to slowly fuck into you. You had one hand in his hair, the other on his ass, feeling him as he moved inside of you, his cock filling you perfectly with every thrust. 
„Yeah,“ you moaned, closing your eyes. 
„Keep your eyes open,“ he hummed and you did, finding him looking at you. 
„I wanna see you when you cum on my cock,“ he said and your walls clenched, making him smirk.
„You liked that, huh?“ He asked and you nodded slowly. 
„Keep going,“ you whimpered. 
„You know what I think of when I jerk myself off in the shower? I imagine the way you look when you cum. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum so hard you see stars. I wonder how you taste. I wonder if you like it hard or slow. I wonder if you wear these pretty lace panties I saw hanging in your bathroom that one time whenever you’re around me,“ he continued and you whimpered his name. 
„I wonder if you would let me fuck you at the dining table when we have dinner together. Or if you’d suck me off in the garage when we have a couple minutes to ourselves. Or on the couch after we watched a movie. I wonder if I can make you scream my name so everyone knows that you’re mine,“ he said before he kissed you and changed the angle of how he was fucking you, his cock hitting a spot inside of you that had you shaking. 
„I’m gonna take you to the lake house this weekend so I can have you screaming as loudly as you want to,“ he said and you nodded biting your lip to keep quiet, still mindful of the child sleeping down the hall. 
„Cum for me baby, let me feel you,“ he said as he crashed his lips down on yours and you shattered, coming harder than you had ever before, your legs shaking as he kept pumping his cock into you in quick deep thrusts. 
„Fuuuuuck,“ you cried quietly against his lips, feeling his lips twitch into a smile. 
„Beautiful,“ he hummed before his hips stuttered his cock pulsing inside of you as he slowly continued to fuck into you, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he orgasmed. 
Both sweaty and out of breath you just looked at each other before he kissed you and slowly rolled you to the side, pulling you against his chest, his cock softening and still resting inside of you. 
Kissing his chest you nuzzled against him, feeling his arms tighten around your body. 
„Best fake date ever,“ you grinned and you felt him chuckle, before he kissed your head just as you drifted off to sleep. 
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Couples Therapy (DpxDc Prompt)
Danny looses a bet and now he has to attend couples therapy. The problem? He has no one to attend couples therapy with.
The obvious solution, he decides with 3am clarity after 36 consecutive hours awake, is to put out a job listing. And where better to find a fake partner than a dating site?
About Me
Looking for someone to take to couples therapy and see how long it takes the therapist to notice we don't know each other.
Now all he has to do is wait.
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radiance1 · 7 months
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This post except that Danny and Jason don't stop fake dating. It is very convenient for the both of them actually.
Danny gets to respond to his parents whenever they ask about his boyfriend or whenever they make surprise visits to Gotham for one reason or another.
Jason gets to play the 'sorry I'm taken' card as both Red Hood and Jason Todd. He also gets to use the couple's discount whenever it's available, and if he gets gifts from his girls in Crime Alley for his mysterious boyfriend, its not like Danny would complain.
Again, they hold no romantic interest in the other at all, entirely platonic those two are.
The batfam doesn't know that, though. Nor does anyone else but put an emphasis on them, after the whole 'Jason Todd is Red Hood' reveal goes down the batfam is interested in Jason's supposed boyfriend.
Danny just cannot believe his parents were right about Jason being a crime lord and Jason? Yea he's definity going to have to buy more ice cream to make up for it.
On the other hand, Jason just can't believe Danny took it that well. Considering he got the bomb dropped on him by Nightwing after he (and others) broke into their apartment. On second thought, he's met the guy's parents and they immediately saw through his secret identity so...
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moonyinpisces · 3 months
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the concept of crowley and aziraphale being like vocally pro civil rights of marginalized communities is especially hilarious considering witch burnings were like. canonically happening while they were on earth. neither of them were rushing to lift a finger about THAT one
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dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
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Alley Boyfriends Part 2
It turns out pretending to be a fake boyfriend involved more planning than Danny had realized was necessary.
Personally, he was thinking he would occasionally be asked to hold Tim's hand in semi-public, tell people about maybe three or four fake dates, and be done with it.
Tim, on the other hand, created a backstory that would make any Dungeon Master weep in complicated worldbuilding joy.
"Why would we keep our relationship a secret?It has to be a valid reason for why we meet in a back alley most of the time but still go out in public to eat." Tim asked him, three notebooks spread around him. All three were written in code, but once they finished creating the tale to his preference, Tim planned on burning them.
Cause that was something people in Gotham did. He wasn't even joking. One of his coworkers invited him to a journal-burning just last week. He went to see what it was about, turns out it was this cities verson of a block party. There were a lot of little groups hudled around movaible fire pits, throwing in paper, laughing and drinking and just being merry.
He checked online to ensure he hadn't accidentally joined a cult. He hadn't; Gotham was just like that.
"I'm from the Midwest—a small town in the Midwest. Maybe I'm not out yet?" Danny suggests with a shrug, slumping in his chair to get comfortable.
Tim snaps his fingers at him with a manic light in his eyes. "That's brilliant. We'll have to go through all your social media to screen for any hints of you being in the alphabet mafia. Now, why would you worry about being spotted four states away? Internalized homophobia?"
Danny shrugs, watching Tim consider his notes, flipping between pages on all three notebooks. Apparently, to ensure their cover story worked, Tim needed to have a notebook dedicated to three themes. The first was their Mental choices—such as a profile of their personalities both before and after their "dating," when they fell in love, and how their upbringing affected them in romantic relationships.
Physical choice—such as how many times they held hands and where the dates were, their attraction types in the pshycal sense, and where they met.
Finally, there weres the Narrative choices—these were people outside their couple. Who saw what, when, and how?. Social media was in there.
"No. That doesn't make sense." Tim sighs showing him the Narrative one. On it are a jamble of words, written so tiny, even if they were noraml Danny would not understand them. "See? Your online humor is about thirty percent gay. Not to mention you've been to Pride in Gotham already."
Tim taps the other notebook, where, supposedly, he is gesturing to the proof of Danny being too comfortable in gay spaces to have internalized homophobia. Danny wonders why he needs this much information, and who the hell would look so far into their fake realtionship.
Once again he wonders who Tim is. Oh, he's been making coffee for the other for days now. Always having his travel mug ready to go at seven am sharp for the other to pick up in the Alley, and had texted him for quick meet ups to trade Heart Attak Coffee.
Sometimes they would send funny memes to each other, and ask eachother about their day. They messaged but it waswn't really deep.
It's also been too late to ask Tim for his last name. It would be embarrassing to admit he either forgot when the other told him or he forgot to ask. His mother would be horrified by his manners.
"It would be sense if we were closer to your hometown, but this would barely hold up against my employees, much less the family." Tim sighs taking a long sip of his coffee. At once, Danny watches his whole body relax, and his eyes light up.
He wonders about that too. Tim reacted to Heart Attack coffee like a ghost interacting with their Obsession.
Tim isn't dead or died from what Danny can tell, but he had obvious signs of death around him. Not enough to be liminal like Jazz, so he wasn't ecto-exposed nor haunted.
He has likely just been in many life-threatening situations. Danny had noticed back in Amity that people like firefighters, military, police officers, and the like- those whose entire jobs meant putting themselves at risk- had the sense of Death gently curling around them. Almost like a flirtation.
He seen a lot more people like that in Gotham, though ussally they were on the opposite side of the previous named workers and he realized that Tim had to be involded in something.
Something big, if the nice suits, expensive coats, countless flowers, tips, and free lunches were any indication. Should he be worried about being in a fake relationship with him?
"Oh! We're a secret because this is both of our first boyfriends!" Tim cheers after a moment. "We are both worried about two different things. I don't want to mess things up due unresolved attachment and abandonment issues not to mention my terrible self-worth and communication skills."
That.....is terrifying self-aware. Danny can only stare as Tim nods his head, flipping some pages and writing more notes down. He switches between green and blue ink pens whenever he is writting so he knows which note applies to who.
Danny thinks he's green.
"You, on the other hand, have a mix of fear of your family finding out, terrible self-esteem due to years of bullying, and fear of commitment. I think we both can play off feeling that if we can't be of use to people, they will leave us mentality, so we never set up proper boundaries just to be safe." Tip pauses, tapping the pen to his bottom lip, eyes focused intensely on his work.
There is a hint of....ghost in his eyes, gleaming just behind his humanity.
He is Ghost King, which means he does not control or know when someone dies, as that is out of his jurisdiction. Not everything that dies becomes a ghost, just like not every ghost has ever lived after all.
In fact, not all of his citizens were humans to begin with or came from humans.
He had command of demons, in the same sense that he did concepts like Time (Clockwork) because they were between Realms. The ones that fell between the cracks of the fabric of worlds were Danny's.
Still, he came to recognize that someone had the potential to be one when their time came. Tim was most definatily a ghost in the making.
That left the question. What would be his Obsession once Tim finished forming?
Something directly involved in his death like Box Ghost (Crushed by a box due to his co-workers' careless prank?) Or something he felt he should have been given in life like Young Blood (Too sick to enjoy his childhood like other children and resentful of neglectful parents who ignored his pain?)
Danny tried to picture it, but they could see a glowing figure racing about wanting coffee and being unnecessarily involved with event planning.
Then again, he thinks, watching as Tim takes small glances at him as if making sure he is still there. He might be Obsessed with routines and being needed by people.
It wasn't really about the lack of caffeine. Instead, it was about the fact Heart Attack Coffee had been a comfort since childhood. Tim needed to feel like he was in control. Danny noticed that the second the other had burst into tears after being denied the coffee.
It was like taking Ember's guitar. His soul had dimmed. That's why Danny gave it to him while carefully checking to ensure Tim wasn't being Overshadowed. If he was, then he would kick the ghost's ass in the alley, away from wandering eyes.
He shivers again when a coldness from his chest zips across his limbs. Ever since Danny developed his ice core, he felt that he had been susceptible to the cold. He still remembers the day his core formed, how he was shivering in the summer to Sam's and Tucker's confusion.
He often found himself piling on scarves and sweaters, even when outside of winter.
Gotham wasn't nearly as cold as Amity Park- they would get a lot of snow compare to here- but it didn't seem to matter to his core.
He gets up to drag over the space heater and figures he may as well get some hot chocolate. His stomach growls, reminding him food would be a good idea, too. "You want something to eat Tim?"
There is a grunt that he learned meant "Yeah, I can eat" from Tim's hunched-over form. He smiles, grabbinghe throw blanket to wrap around himself.
His apartment wasn't too bad considering it was close to Crime Alley. It was odd and a bit outdated, but it was enough space for one person, the hot water lasted longer, and there was no mold or break-ins.
It nearly made up for the fact the walls were paper thin, which did nothing to keep the bitter Jack Frost out; his landlord shut off the heat a few weeks ago for "maintenance" and did not turn it back on.
According to his neighbors, he always does so to save funds. It sucked, but none of them could afford to move away, Danny included.
It would be bearable if Danny's insides weren't literally freezing.
He starts to cook a nice warm soup, chopping up some chicken and noodles, mindful of Tim's continued muttering in the background. It's nice, like having his own white noise machine.
A second wave of ice-ice cold races over his body. Danny glances at Tim, but it seems the other had gotten comfortable near his space heater, and it would be rude to take it across the room just because he was cold when his guest was already using it.
Maybe he'll buy a second one at the second-hand store on his next paycheck. He watches his soup boil as he adds some spices for flavoring, curling in on himself as the throw blanket seems to not be warming him fast enough.
He hates when he gets cold fits like this. They don't happen as often now that he pratice with his ice core but they effect his human side the longer he goes without ising his ice powers.
In a anti-meta city like Gotham he just hasn't found a safe place to do that yet.
Danny's hands ache from the trembles running through them- he slips on some gloves, trying to squeeze warmth back into it. He then goes across the room to the hooks by the wall after giving in, there he puts on a scarf, his coat and a beanie so his ears can warm up too.
"Are you cold?" Tim asks as Danny returns to the stove
Danny laughs from where he is stirring the soup. It is such an understatement he can't do anything else. "Freezing."
"Why not turn up the heat?"
"Landlord shut it off." Danny shrugs at Tim's look of disbelief. "It's okay I've gotten used to it. Just need to make a nest of clothes later to warm up. Soup will help too."
"Does he shut off your heat often enough that you've gotten used to it?" Tim's voice is strangely flat. Danny shrugs.
"He shuts off stuff, like the AC and electricity all the time. A month ago, he shut off the water; that was a rough two weeks." Danny jokes, thinking of how often he had to use the public bathrooms at the library to brush his teeth; he showered in the community gym. He tells Tim this. "Thank the Ancients for the Waynes. If it wasn't for them funding the gym, library, and laundry mat I probably would have it worse"
Tim stares at him for a long minute. Without a word, he reaches for his work laptop, which lay close to the side in favor of the notebooks two hours ago.
Danny isn't sure what exactly Tim does for work—he isn't sure it's legal, so he reframes from asking—but he does know that recently, he has been over to Danny's apartment a lot more to hash out the details and doing remote work at the same time.
He boots it up, fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed that still impresses Danny, even after seeing him type for the past few days. Assuming he returned to work, Danny returned to his own task. He carefully pours them both two bowls- mindful of his gloves- and warms up the mild for their hot chocolates.
They are not the healthiest of combinations, but both boys are comfortable with odd food choices. He caries the tray back to the table, blaket dragging behind him.
Tim stares intensely at the screen, nodding thanks to him when he puts a bowl down by his hand. "What do you think of this?"
Danny glances at the screen and sees a really lovely penthouse. It's spacious, overlooking Gotham's diamond district with five rooms, two baths and even a boucany pool and hottub.
It screams money, with its large arched windows, dark carpet, and grey pillars. He even spots a grand piano in the living room. Danny whistles, "Damn, I would love to live there."
"Okay, it's yours," Tim says, clicking the chat box with the realtor. He types out a quick agreement for the purchase and opens another tab with his private banker and lawyers, commanding them to have the place ready for him in two days—all without reaching for his mouse. An agreement comes through before Danny can do anything other than gawk as Tim adds his name to the owner's list.
Tim seems unaware of Danny's flabbergasted look of awe as he taps into a few more tabs, researching cleaning crews and moving companies. "We can move you on your day off. The cleaners can help you pack if you need it while you're at work, and the moving crew can get it over the city for you. I'm also buying this place. It's ridiculous that he just shuts things off. "
Just who in the world is this guy!?
____________________________________________________
Across the city, Babs stares at Tim's online orders. She has been told to keep an eye on himbecause Jasons worries about his suspected drug problem.
Everyone in the family has been somewhat uneasy about the possibility. Babs will admit her heart broke when she found hours and hours of him meeting the same shady looking teenager entering the same back alley over and over again.
He always came out looking flustered and a bit jittery, and she also thought it wasn't a secret lover like Bruce and Dick had hoped. She had always been a least optimistic, and her cameras- even the ones she hacked into to review recorded surveillance for the past three showed her the ugly truth.
Tim was an addict.
She had been working on her letter for the intervention they would be holding for him, typing past her tears, when this popped up. She blinks and takes her glasses off to wipe them before checking to see if she is seeing correctly.
But nope, the words stay the same. She slowly reaches for her headset and clicks it on. At once, her ear overflows with various voices from everyone on the field.
Tim is the only one not out currently, but she can clearly see why.
"Tim just bought a penthouse for Danny Fenton. He also has two sets of cleaning crews, one to Fenton's address and one to his own. Two sets of moving crews have been added to both addresses, each ending at the same penthouse. He's going to be living with him," She announces, silencing everyone at once. "Does that sound like drug dealer behavior?"
"Omg," Dick cries at once. Relief and joy overlap his voice as he screams into the mics "Love wins!"
"Let's not celebrate too soon. We still have to figure out what the hell those alley meetings are about," Jason warns. "If it is a drug dealer, moving in together will be the worst thing possible to T."
"Agree. We prob him but carefully so he doesn't catch on." Bruce comands "Act as ussual to get as much information out of Tim."
"So.....we throw him a house warming/investation on his boyfriend party?" Steph asks the sound of wind accompanies her words. She is likely grappling towards Danny's apparment to check on Tim.
She has gotten the habit of doing so ever since Danny has been flagged by Jason. Steph has reported the same thing evertime. Tim seemed to just been doing work at Danny's table, drinking teas and cuddling together in front of Danny's cheap tv.
She thought it was all very domestic, even when her eyes tracked every movement Danny made. Of course she couldn't get too close least Tim would catch on.
"Exactly."
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salamanding · 3 months
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on April fool’s day i pretended i was developing a dating sim
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steddie fake dating au that starts because robin’s mom keeps pushing for her and steve to get together and robin gets so fed up that she yells, “it’s not gonna happen because some people are gay, mom!”
and upon seeing the utter horror and fear on her face, steve swoops in and says he’s the one who’s gay. cue mr. and mrs. buckley, local hippies, attempting to show how supportive they are, and all the while steve gets eddie to agree to fake date to get the buckleys to prove they’re safe, so that robin will feel comfortable enough to come out to her parents.
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racew1nn3rs · 4 months
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𝐟𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 '𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!
𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙨 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 // 𝙛𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙪
𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙚𝙙: 5/31/24
𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙚𝙙: ?
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❝ 𝐰𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ❞
𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 2022 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘢 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 2023. 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩: 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦? (𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳: 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥.)
❝ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐝 ❞
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─ 𝘼𝘾𝙏 𝙊𝙉𝙀 📞
𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪. (𝘪'𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦)
𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪. (𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦)
𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳)
𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘷. (𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴)
𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘷. (𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺)
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𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙯𝙚, 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠. 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙤𝙬𝙣, 𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙤𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙮 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙗𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙚.
© 2024 𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚𝙬1𝙣𝙣3𝙧𝙨.
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𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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reyalvr · 3 months
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SHE’S MINE | 00
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CATCH ME, I’VE FALLEN IN LOVE FOR THE FIRST TIME.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, chaotic fluff, smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan, RUMORS isn’t related to anything that happens in this series
word count ┊ 798
author’s note ┊ YAY i finally wrote it! i really love the fake dating/marriage convenience trope and i’ve been itching to write it with kenji. this is highly inspired by one my favorite books of all time, terms & conditions by lauren asher! if you enjoy fake dating i highly recommend reading it. as mentioned at the top, this is only the prologue! i'll be putting out part one and the series masterlist asap hehe... as always, happy reading!
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SOMETIMES YOU WONDERED IF ANYTHING YOU SAID EVER STUCK WITH KEN. For the past year and a half, you had the supposed “dream life” that every assistant yearned for. It confused you, really, as you tried to ponder on what part of your job was envious. Were the late nights drafting NDA breaches so desirable? What about the press statements after altercations, were those résumé worthy? You let out a deep sigh as you watched Ken from the TV in his dressing room, crossing your arms as you sunk deeper into the couch.
He was on a press tour for his latest collaboration, his overconfident persona charming everyone left and right. You had to physically stop yourself from rolling your eyes when he used his signature flair to charm the show’s host. At least he was sticking to the script… for the most part. He wore the product, threw in a few adlibs, and of course, flirted. Be it a talk show host or a random photographer on the street, Ken always found a way to leave people smitten with him- save except you. 
It’s not like you were actively trying to hate him, he just made it so easy. At first you thought it was just some awkward phase, like he was just trying to adjust to working with a new team. But then he just kept doing the same things over and over again. A brawl with an opposing team member? Just another Sunday night. A rumor about having a fling with yet another supermodel? Sounds just about right. 
“I mean of course I have to thank my team,” Ken’s voice cut through your train of thought. “It was a dream of mine to play for the Giants as a kid, now I actually get to do it.”
Tone it down, asshole. You thought to yourself, noting the sarcasm laced in his words. Of course the general public wouldn’t have caught on, but you had no doubt his coach and the other players would. Then again, he’d been relatively untouchable because of his rank in the sports world. You poked your tongue into your cheek, shaking your head as you sat through the rest of his interview. The clock on the wall counted down the remaining time, the bright red numbers casting a reflection on the screen. Two minutes left, and all he had to do was to keep the act up…
…Until he didn’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what was about to happen next. 
“Now I don’t want to hold here any longer, but you know I have to ask it,” The host teased, almost like an overexcited child ready to tattle. “Any special someone back home?” 
Ken chuckled, just like he usually did when asked the question. “Cheeky question,” He paused and grinned, his eyebrow raised slightly as he shrugged his shoulders. “What if there was?” 
“Well, is there?” The host pushed, his tone eager to have the Ken Sato answer such a juicy question. He gestured toward the crowd before he continued. “I mean there are a lot of fans here today who would love to know more…” 
“Yeah? And if I said yes, then what?” He replied, his smile growing brighter and his eyes shining. 
The crowd cheered even harder, itching to find out the truth. You shared the same sentiments, trying to figure out what the hell Ken was up to now. Did he have a girlfriend? If he did, why didn’t anyone know about it? You stood up straight now, your right hand deathly gripping the remote. What the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kenji Sato? Your inner voice seemed to yell as you waited for him to speak up. 
“I mean only time will tell, yeah?” The host replied, leaning back in his seat. “C’mon Ken, it’s not nice to keep secrets.”
Ken mimicked the host’s moves, leaning back into his sofa chair as well. He shrugged his shoulders, licking his lips as he fiddled with his fingers. He bit the inside of his cheek, and though it was brief you caught it. You knew that look; his look of contemplation. Your grip on the remote was still taut as your breathing seemed to quicken the longer he waited. Granted it was only a few seconds, but those seconds felt like hours. 
He tilted his head slightly then, his eyes staring directly at the camera. It slowly zoomed closer to focus entirely on him, and he let out a small laugh before he finally replied. His gaze was strong, and it almost felt like he was actually looking at you.
“Yeah, yeah I do.” He finally said, throwing in a lovesick smile for good measure. “And she’s the best damn thing in my life right now.”
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reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.
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chiocchi · 5 months
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Dating sim but the only romantic options are seven versions of the same awful guy KLDKLFJSLD (Scarcrux and the harem ending being secret routes of course)
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You ever have those moments where an idea just... won't leave your head?
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