(strumming A Harp) I'm NOT Evil And I DON'T Want To Kill Myself I Am Just. On My Period

Ride, Cowgirl.

pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader

summary: neither of you can keep last night off your mind, needing more Frank finds comfort in your room.

warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, sex!!, praise kink asf, oral (f receiving), soft frank, reader calls him frankie accidentally, frank making noise in bed, riding like a cowgirl!!, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread

word count: 3514 words

author’s note: I’m in love with darlin’ and frank, they are simply the lomls currently. anyway, the end gives the perfect set up for a third part if it is desired!! In the meantime, it’s 1;30 am for me and I need sleep!! please enjoy &lt;3

read the first part cowgirl ! and the next part cowboy hats !

Boyfriend by COIN played on the speaker your dad, conveniently, left outside as you laid on one of the pool loungers.  Thoughts of Frank consuming your mind, thoughts of his hands and his voice and the way he smelled and how he looked pain that he couldn’t fuck you in the backseat of his truck. Your fingers finding themselves rubbing the side of your neck, the very spot Frank had found comfort. 

“So how did last night go?” Tiff asked, hanging over the side of the pool to look at you. Your heart raced, did she find out? How would she? Did you accidentally call her when you were panting his name like it was the only word you knew? The way you froze as she asked a simple question, immediately made her suspicious of you.

“Huh?” You asked, in hopes of getting her to elaborate just a bit so you could come up with the lie of your life. Or maybe, you should confide in her. She is your girl for life, it’s not like she’s gonna judge you for doing it. If anything, she’d praise you and beg for details.

“After I left? How did the rest of the night go? Your dad doesn’t have the most interesting friends on the planet. All they talk about is work and their lack of wives.” She rolled her eyes, laying her head on her hands and kicking her legs in the water. 

“Actually…” You smiled, bringing your knees up to your chest to hide behind them as the blush spread across your body.

“Oh. My. God. Hold on!” She rushed to climb out of the pool, dripping water all over you as she sat on the opposite end of the lounger. If gossiping was a team sport, the two of you would have ten gold medals, if anyone asked you weren’t necessarily talking shit but simply saying how you felt about people.

“So, after you left, Frank and I went to the gas station and I asked if he had been with anyone younger. I don’t know what got into me, Tiff! He just looked so…godly. I wanted to jump his bones the second I came downstairs from changing.” You covered your face with your hands and groaned, the blush was probably becoming permanent at this point. You were going to be bright red for the rest of your life.

“Your dad’s best friend?! Holy shit dude. C’mon spill!” She laughed, prying the hands off your face and sitting expectantly. You were beyond grateful for the fact she wasn’t judging you and was actually interested. Maybe that was a bad thing, you didn’t care.

“Anyway, he said ‘Not yet’ and I was in shock or something! So, I reached over and kinda did a weird caress thing to his beard. I was flyin’ by the seat of my swimsuit, I’ve never been with a man who has any sort of facial hair. But he kissed me, and I mean like Really kissed me.i’ve never been kissed like that before, Tiff. Mind blowing.” Unbeknownst to you, the very man you were speaking about had walked out the back door and could hear the whole conversation. His chest swelled with pride, in some fucked up way he was glad no one had ever kissed you like that. It meant there was a lot more he could do way better than any of the other people you’d been with, and he’d be damned if he didn’t ruin you for any other man out there.

“Your dad is about to come out here, suggest you find somethin’ else to talk ‘bout.” He hollered at the two of you, your head whipping around so fast it was a miracle you didn’t give yourself whiplash, chuckling at the way your eyes widened when you realized he had heard you talking about him. “Quit speakin’ so damn loud anyway, sure the whole neighborhood heard.”

Frank didn’t truly mean what he said, he would love to listen to you retell the story of your escapades, what he didn’t want was your father to hear and put two and two together. He didn’t need to get into some shitty mess with the one constant in his life, he owed more to your dad than he cared to admit and ruining that friendship would send Frank to an early grave. That in no way meant he regretted what he did last night, and everything else he planned to do. He simply wanted to go about all this in a way that wouldn’t cost him his friendship but still gives him his girl, gives him you. He prayed for the first time last night, and he really truly prayed, for a situation where it all works out and he’s not back to square one. With nobody. Again. 

“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Castle.” Tiff shouted back, a smug smile playing on her face, giving him a small wave. She nudged your shoulders, giggling at the whole situation. All you wanted to do was shrink and disappear, you couldn’t be more embarrassed. You felt small and helpless, your best friend thought it was hilarious. God if you can hear me, please kill me.

You spent the whole morning thinking about him and the consequence of what you did, how would your next interaction go? Would it be weird? Would he pretend it never happened, that he wasn’t dying to have you right then and there. Yet, here you were no true interaction but you were the one cowering away from it. You were the one trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, when truthfully you wanted to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know who had given you the best orgasm of your life.

“I’m going to shrink to the size of ant and drown myself in the fuckin’ pool, Tiff. I swear to god.” You slouched as far down in the lounger as you could, squeezing your eyes closed in some desperate attempt to make it all disappear. “Of course he would be here right now.”

“Ants don’t have lungs, they can’t technically drown. Besides, it’s not like he came out here and murdered you, all he did was tell you to be quieter. He also made no indication or mention of last night, so stop lettin’ that pretty head of yours go wild.” Tiff rubbed her hand soothing up and down your arm, she knew better than anyone the way your mind would take someone breathing at you and interpret it as they hate you and want you dead. That’s why she worked so well with you, the sane and grounded to your wild and anxious. 

“I don’t think it would matter even if he did, the principle of it all is what’s causing my worries. Do you think worry dolls are still a thing? I could most definitely use one right now.” A groan once again left your mouth, your eyes opening and searching for the older man who was carrying planks of wood across your backyard. Your father walked out of the house, giving you and Tiff a wave before hollering at Frank about whatever they were building.

The whispers and giggles coming from the two of you were intriguing Frank, he wanted to know exactly what you were telling her and what you were intentionally leaving out. He wanted to know if you were even talking about him, or if she was telling you the real reason that I just left abruptly last night. Because he knew, he wouldn’t say anything to you about it unless you brought it up first, but he knew. The work in front of him was becoming increasingly less interesting, he was so close to telling your dad to throw in the towel and call it a day. He didn’t even know what he was building anymore, he truthfully didn’t care but your dad did. That was enough for him to keep going.

“Those two have been out all day, shockin’ they’re not burnt or nothin’.” Your dad commented, planting his shovel in the ground and leaning against it. He smiled your way, not that you noticed as you were preoccupied with Tiff. You were his pride and joy, his baby. He’d murder anyone for you, it was a part of the reason you never brought anyone home. 

“‘M not shocked. Last summer, I’m not sure either one of em spent any more than twenty minutes inside. Make sure she- they wear sunscreen, don’t need em getting skin cancer.” Frank was quick to correct himself, not that your dad would’ve found anything wrong with his original statement but he was covering all his bases. Not that he didn’t care for the other girl, Tiff was her name? He didn’t need to know her name, not when he knew yours. 

“I’ll make sure to pick some up from the store the next time we make it to the grocery, I know my girl wears some. Not sure ‘bout her friend.” His girl. The words made Frank irrationally angry, you were his daughter but the thought of someone else staking claim over you drove him mad. One night with you and he was acting, and thinking, like you were his wife. Wife. No.

Frank had met your father when you were nineteen, hadn’t met you until you were twenty. It wasn’t like he was truly doing anything wrong but he was going to fight a never ending mental battle about you. Going through every hoop to tell himself neither of you was doing anything wrong, that you weren’t going to be in trouble for your actions. That it was, simply, okay.

The sun was setting, the breeze taking over and raising the hair on your skin. You truly had been outside all day, with sunscreen reapplied every hour or so, you were bound to find a few sunburnt spots in your shower. You exchanged goodbyes with Tiff and made your way to your room to start the nightly routine you had adopted since being home, switching the bluetooth from the speaker outside to the one inside your room. You opened the window, your music slowly starting to dance with the breeze, when a soft knock on your door grabbed your attention.

“Hey cowgirl.” Frank whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over your music, making his way into your room and studying it. Committing all the bits and pieces of it to his memory.

“I’m so sorry about earlier, if you don’t want me to tell Tiff anymore I won’t. I just, I tell her everything and I needed to tell someone.” Your cheeks slowly started turning pink, Frank thought you were cute like that.

“Don’t apologize, darlin’. I didn’t care, just warnin’ ya ‘bout your dad is all.” He walked closer to you, his height very apparent, your head the perfect height for his chest. He brought a finger up to your cheek, dragging it down before tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“I appreciate it, I know how much he means to you.” No you didn’t. He knew you knew a small bit not enough to truly understand what the two of you meant to him. He would be forever indebted to your father if it meant keeping you, if it meant holding you and kissing you. Consuming himself with you.

“So pretty.” He truly whispered, admiring every inch of your face, leaning down to kiss you. Your heart stopped, he didn’t regret it? He thought you were pretty?

You decided to stop fucking thinking for once and enjoy it, leaning up to meet him halfway in the kiss. Threading your fingers through his hair, much like he did with yours in his truck. One his hands held the side of your face while the other tucked itself into the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms, rubbing at the indentation it left from being worn all day. 

“Ready to ride, cowgirl?” He asked, pulling away from the kiss enough to nip at your jaw as he waited for an answer. He wouldn’t be mad if you said no, he would be patient and wait until you were, but he went home and fucked his hand like a horny teenage boy at the thought of you on top of him.

A whimper is all you managed to respond with, your mind momentarily thinking about your dad but was interrupted by the softness of your mattress touching your back. 

“Goddamn swimsuits, prancing around in practically nothing.” He remarked, still standing as he eyed your body. His finger snapped the strap of your bottoms, smirking at the sound before he dragged them down your legs. 

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked softly, making him burst into laughter. 

“For what?” He responded, controlling his laughter at the fact you would ask that right now. 

“So I can wear one that color the next time you’re over.” You smiled, looking up at him. Somehow he looked even prettier from this angle, if that was possible. 

“Uh, probably red.” He gave a bit of thought before responding, curious to know if you would actually be wearing a bikini the next time you saw him. At your house, anyway. 

He stashed the bikini bottoms in his back pocket, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and getting down on his knees. Frank thanked all the heavens and the stars for the meal he was about to eat right before licking a stripe through your folds and sucking on your clit. The stimulation instinctively caused your thighs to close, causing him to force them back open and lay one arm across a leg with his hand splayed across your stomach.

He moaned.

He moaned.

Frank moaned, was he enjoying this as much as you were? Were there any downsides or faults to this man? 

He moved his mouth closer to your clit, paying almost all his attention to it as he inserted his middle finger slowly. A wanton moan making its way to his ears, he thought everything about you was pretty. If he wasn’t rock hard when he took your bottoms off, he definitely was now. The stretch in his jeans was not entirely comfortable, it truthfully wouldn’t be able to accommodate much more. 

“Frank, Frankie, please..” 

Did you just- did he imagine that? He’d never had anyone call him that before, but it sounded so damn good coming from your lips.

“What, pretty girl? Use your words for me. Tell Frankie what you need.” 

“‘M so close, please need more.” You whined, to him it even sounded a bit like you were going to cry. He’s bet his life savings you were a pretty crier, a pretty anything. He just wanted to look at you. Always.

All he wanted to do was pull out his phone and record the pleas and the moans coming from you, to listen to later if you were ever ripped from him and he didn’t get to experience this, experience you, ever again. If it weren’t for your fucking music. He was thankful for it, blocking your sounds from anyone in the house. He added his ring finger into the mix, relishing in the sound you made. You were his drug, he truly was addicted. He needed his next fix before this one was over. 

Moments after he sped up his fingers and added more pressure to your clit, your orgasm ripped through you. Body shaking, eyes rolling back. This was better than the one he gave you last night. You’d never be able to touch yourself ever again, not the way he did. You didn’t think anyone could ever compare now that Frank had touched you. 

By the time you came to, he had discarded his clothes and was on top of you. He pulled you into a kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and groaning into your mouth when you let him in. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth while his fingers explored every inch of your body. 

“I don’t have a condom.” He confessed.

“Don’t care, on the pill. Frankie please, I need you inside of me right now. Need your cock, frankie..please.” The sound of you begging for him had his ego going through the roof, the fact that anyone could want or need him this bad was mind blowing. 

He rubbed his cock through your folds, kissing you a bit more before he pushed the tip in. Your mouth opening in a gasp. You knew he was big, you saw the imprint in the truck yesterday. But this was different, the stretch hurt in a delicious way that you needed more of. He waited a moment before pushing in a bit more, toying with your clit and peppering your face with kisses to distract you.

He bottomed out, you had never felt so full in your life. You swore he was in your stomach, taking rearranging your guts to a new level. He stayed still, letting you get used to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you, too much.

“Frankie move.” 

Your wish was his command. His thrusts started slowly, building up in speed as he went. It was at this point, you realized Frank Castle was not quiet in bed. He wasn’t necessarily loud either, but he was groaning in your ear. The grunts and the groans were spurring you on, your moans and whimpers were doing the same for it. It was a cycle, and if either of you had your way it would never end. 

“Sound so damn pretty. Makin’ all these noises for me, huh? My pretty girl, my girl.” He put all his weight on his forearms, lifting himself enough to look you in the eyes, his hair falling out of place and onto your face. He was gorgeous, especially like this. Raw. Vulnerable. Just for you. 

“Your girl, yours.” You babbled, too busy reeling in the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you. How his bare skin feels on yours. His voice praising you. Calling you pretty. 

“That’s right, such a good girl.” His praises continued, some of them too muffled for you to hear as he sucked on your collarbone. Or your neck. Any exposed skin he could get in his mouth. 

Without pulling out, he flipped the two of you over so you were on top. Riding him. Cowgirl. 

“C’mon cowgirl, ride me. You can do it baby.” He lifted your hips up and placed them back down to get you started, placing your hands on his chest for you.  He slipped one of your boobs out of the top, you were still wearing, and put your nipple in his mouth. Rolling the bud between his teeth, enjoying the new sounds he managed to get.

You placed your weight on your hands, positioning your legs right, and lifted back up. He was somehow even deeper than before, it was almost overwhelming. His pelvic bone was hitting your clit just right every time you came down, accompanied by his groans, you were a goner. You fell into his chest as you felt your second orgasm start to rip through you, your words slurred as you told him to use you. You were his to use. 

Frank had been close since he put you on top, his self control had been wearing a bit thin. He fucked you through your orgasm, pistioning up inside you like his life depended on it. 

“Where do you want it, c’mon baby where?” He grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his release off. It was getting increasingly harder when your cunt was gripping him like that.

“Inside.” Is all you muttered out, half aware of your choice. You’d deal with it later. 

Not a moment later he painted your inside white, cummimg with a low and long groan. Relaxing his head completely against your pillows, taking deep breaths. You crumpled against his chest, just resting for a moment as he was still inside you. This was the most relaxed you’d been in ages, at some point you drifted off to sleep. 

You were awoken by the feeling of Frank cleaning you up and putting a blanket on top of you, obviously you knew he couldn’t stay. It still hurt. It hurt your heart, your soul, your everything. 

“Gotta go, pretty girl. I put my number in your phone. We’ll talk later.” His last sentence meant more than just texting you, you both knew it. At some point, lines had to be drawn or you had to fess up to your dad. But for now you’d live in delusion, in a world where you were in an established relationship and no one thought anything of it. He placed a kiss on your forehead, finished getting dressed and got up to leave. Stopping at the door he turned around to give you one last glance, you had already fallen back asleep. His cowgirl.

i mean this from the bottom of my heart: no one is impressed by your loud ass car. actually we talked about it and we all want you dead.

we need to make using chatgpt embarrassing bc sorry it really is. what do you mean you can’t write an email

undercover prompts ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱

— “hey, just so you know- i’ll have your back in there. no matter what happens.”

— “i’m prepared to do whatever it takes for us to maintain our cover. and if that means getting a little up close and personal, then so be it.”

— “i’m not worried. i know you’ll take care of me out there.”

— “that kiss… you know that didn’t mean anything, right? that was for our cover, nothing else.”

— “they think we’re married, right? that means we kind of have to act like it.”

— “hey, hey, just breathe. it’s okay, it’s all over, you’re safe now.”

— “ow, that looks like it hurts. will you let me fix you up?”

— “not that i’m doubting your judgement, but was sitting on my lap really a crucial part of that meeting?”

— “follow my lead, and i’ll get us out of here in one piece.”

— “it’s bad enough that we had to spend the day attached at the hip, do we really need to share a bed too?!”

— “please tell me i don’t actually have to wear that.”

— “it’s okay to be scared. you just need to trust that i’ll keep us safe in there, and it’ll all be okay.”

— “i can’t believe it took us pretending to be other people for you to finally kiss me.”

— “it’s nothing, i just… i’ve never seen you in anything like that before. you look really good.”

— “for a minute there, i thought we were in trouble.”

— “hey, you guys don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. if things start to go south, just say your codeword and we’ll intervene.”

— “don’t get so twisted up, i’m going to be fine. i have you to watch my six, don’t i?”

on one hand, them banning tiktok is yet again another means to control and silence ppl from sharing real-time information on situations such as Palestine. Not to mention all the people who are losing their income (this is why Patreon and supporting creators externally is important) but on the other hand?….good riddance. it’s been fuck that app for a while now.

ok i have a plan (gets distracted) (gets distracted) (gets distracted) (gets distracted) (get distracted) (gets d

I just failed a social interaction so bad that I almost left. like holy shit.

The US is not just withholding a truce. It’s actively participating in the eradication of Palestinians.

How do you feel about pretty woman au with Nanami hehehe

Idk if this is the same person but since I've gotten TWO asks about it, I might as well write a Pretty Woman AU for Nanami 💕

CW: sex worker reader, fem reader, implied smut, kind of a slow burn

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So, I imagine it going like this: Nanami has this big event to go to for work and his coworker, Gojo, has been bugging him to get a date, and his parents have been on his ass for months about dating and finding a wife, and quite frankly Nanami is sick of it all.

What's his solution? Hire a sexworker for the week so he can go this dumb party to get Gojo off his back and go to dinner with his parents to get them off his back. Hopefully if they see you two together and he claims you're his girlfriend, they'll stop pestering him and meddling with his personal life. Killing two birds with one stone.

So, he hires you from an escort website. You're high end, "classy", pretty and negotiable, the perfect person to play the part of his girlfriend.

You two have lunch to settle the details a week beforehand. You agree to his terms—pretend to be his girlfriend for a few events, convince his family and coworkers that you've been dating for months—but you have some terms of your own.

"Sex has to be with a condom only," you say as you chew, already browsing the dessert menu. "No kissing, no sentimentality. Sex is sex, nothing more. I don't want you falling in love with me."

"I didn't plan on having sex with you," he replies, wiping his mouth with his cloth napkin. "I also don't plan on falling in love with you."

You scoff. "They all say that."

You're a bit crude at times, but otherwise you're a perfect fit. You agree to each other's terms. He sends you a large pdf file with important details about himself, details about "you", and details about your "relationship".

"Memorize this by next Friday. We'll be going to a party for my company, and then we'll have lunch on Saturday with my parents. They'll be in town for a week, so we'll be spending a day or two with them."

You hum, swallowing the chocolate mousse off your spoon. "You know, I expect to be paid by the hour..."

"I'll give you $50,000 for the whole week."

You almost choked on your dessert. You recovered quickly, covering your mouth, clearing your throat.

"Y-Yes... that..." You cleared your throat again, sitting up straight. "That seems agreeable."

He huffs, taking out his wallet, handing you a credit card.

"You'll need some proper clothes for these events. Don't worry about the cost; I won't take it out of your paycheck."

You take the card, eyeing the metallic rectangle.

"How do you not have a girlfriend?" He shrugs, picking up his wine glass.

"I don't have time for relationships."

───────────────

"You clean up nice," he remarks as he meets you in the lobby of his apartment building. You smile, giving a twirl.

"Don't ask me how much it was."

"Wasn't planning on it." He holds out his arm for you and you grab it, walking out of the building together. You reach his car, and you're off into the night.

"You left your bags at the front desk, correct?"

"Yep," you reply, popping the 'P' at the end of the word. "I had to buy another suitcase to bring everything."

"That's fine," he replies. "The guest room is ready for you. We'll have to share a bathroom, but the guest room is all yours for the week."

You hum slyly, tiptoeing your fingers along his thigh.

"You sure you don't want to share a bed with me?"

He sighs, taking your hand, linking your fingers together.

"I told you. I'm not looking for sex."

"Mmm, alrighty then," you say, leaning back in your seat. "I'm just trying to make this realistic."

"It'll be fine if you memorized everything I sent you—"

"I did, I did." You squeeze his hand, causing him to glance at you. "Don't worry. It'll be fine. I won't mess up."

He nods, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. The small action makes you shiver slightly, but he doesn't seem to notice.

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"Huh?! A girlfriend? When did this happen?" Gojo exclaims, almost dropping his champagne. You laugh girlishly, wrapping yourself around Nanami's arm.

"We've been together for almost six months now. Isn't that right, honey?"

"Yes, dear," Nanami replies calmly, sipping his wine. "Six months on the 21st."

"Oh, you're so much better at dates than I am! This is why I like you." His lips twitch into a smile as Gojo scoffs.

"Damn, Nanami. Who knew you were keeping such a cutie all to yourself this whole time? You should've brought her to the New Year's party! You would've had a blast."

"I don't—"

"Oh, shit, hold that thought: the president's coming over." Gojo takes your free hand, kisses it swiftly. "Nice to meet you, lovely. Call me when you dump this sack of wet laundry."

"Hey—"

"Okay, bye!" he replies quickly, rushing off to another part of the room so he could avoid the president. Nanami sighed, watching his colleague run away, shaking his head.

"For the record," you start, putting your empty glass on a waiter's nearby tray, "I don't think you're a sack of wet laundry."

"That's kind of you, but it's alright. Most of my coworkers think I'm boring."

"You're not boring," you reply, facing him. "Serious, definitely serious, but not boring."

"How sweet of you to say." He finds himself smiling when you laugh genuinely. He looks you over once again, one of many times that night. "That dress suits you."

"Why thank you! I got some help from the girl who was working. She said it would 'accentuate my curves'."

Nanami hums softly. "It does."

You feel your cheeks warm and you clear your throat, adjusting his tie.

"I've got an even cuter dress for tomorrow. It's pink with flowers and a pretty ribbon around the waist." Nanami lets you fiddle with his tie for a bit, smiling softly at your nervous behavior.

"I'm sure you'll look stunning."

───────────────

"Oh, she's a doll, Kento, just a doll!" his mother exclaimed, patting your hand and smiling at you. "I can't believe you kept her from us to long!"

"I wanted to make sure she was worth meeting," Nanami replied, lacing his fingers with yours, smiling at you when you smiled at him.

"But still, she's such an angel. Oh, I wish we could've met you sooner, sweetie. Don't you think so too, dear?" Her husband nodded, focused on cutting into his steak.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you," you said to Nanami's mother. "Ken has told me so much about you. I heard you were the inspiration for his love of cooking!"

"Aw, Kenny, you flatter me, dear," she cooed towards her son. "Oh, but I can't take all the credit. Kento has loved food ever since he was small. I remember him staring in awe at the TV whenever Gordon Ramsey was on—"

"Mother—"

"Oh, don't be shy about it, pumpkin! He was so cute when he was little, eyes glued to the TV when Kitchen Nightmares came on. Oh, don't get me started on all the different cooking shows he would watch—"

"Mom!"

You laughed at their exchange, covering your face when you snorted, making the rest of the table laugh as well. Nanami didn't think you'd have such a cute laugh—there was quite a bit about you that he found himself enjoying within the last two days.

"Oh, jeez... Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies' room," you spoke after a moment, getting up and gingerly leaving the table. Nanami watched you leave, staring at your hips sway back and forth.

"She's a real catch," his mother spoke up, eyeing him. He cleared his throat, nodding and grabbing his drink.

"Yeah. She's great."

"Are you going to propose?"

He chokes on his drink, struggling to clear his throat. "W-We've only been together for half a year."

"Your father proposed to me after half a year." Nanami rolled his eyes, glancing at the restrooms, hoping you'd return quickly.

"That was a different time, Mom. People don't get together that quickly anymore."

She clicked her tongue. "You shouldn't judge a relationship based on how long it is, Kento. Some of the best relationships are the shortest."

He pondered over her words, watching you stop at a table, vaguely hearing you compliment a woman's dress. He stared at you, feeling his mouth go dry.

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"So we're having dinner on Wednesday, golf on Thursday, and they leave on Friday?"

"Yes," Nanami replied, glancing through some reports before looking up at you. You were in his fluffy bathrobe, hair wet, rubbing lotion over your hands as you stared out at the city. You looked ethereal after a shower, your face glowing under the low light of the room.

"I'm not a fan of golfing," you speak up, making a face.

"You don't have to be," he replies, putting down his papers and standing up, walking towards you. "You can just sit in the golf cart and drink a mimosa and look pretty."

You snorted, laughing that sweet laugh he had come to adore. He stopped at your side, meeting your smile with his own. You clapped your hands, turning to him. You ran a hand over his vest, fumbling with the edge.

"You always look so official. Don't you have sweatpants?"

"I do, but I don't usually wear them when I have company."

"Mm, you should. You should be nice and comfy when you're at home. You should relax."

"I can't relax. I have some work to do."

"Boooooo." You undo his vest, tugging it off his shoulders. "Work can wait. Cmon, go get in your comfy clothes and let's watch a movie."

He snickers, letting you pull off his vest and start unbuttoning his shirt. You were lighthearted until you were halfway down: that's when you stopped. You paused, opening his shirt ever so slightly, revealing his muscular chest. You stared for a moment, feeling your body warm up before you suddenly pulled away, clearing your throat. You handed him his vest, giving a flat smile.

"I'm gonna... go pick a movie."

"...Y/N—"

You rushed past him, moving towards the living room.

"Hurry up! If you're not quick I'm gonna choose something you'll hate."

Nanami stood there for a moment, moving a hand towards his exposed chest, briefly wishing that your soft hands had lingered a bit longer.

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The rest of the week went on without a hitch. Everywhere you went, everyone adored you. Everyone was convinced that you and Nanami were an item; you had them all fooled.

But the entire time... you found yourself growing fond of the man who hired you. You found yourself falling for him the better you got to know him. You knew it was wrong, it went against your own rules, but he was too good to be true.

"Can I say something?" you asked Thursday night, the day before your last day with him.

"Go for it," he said from the other side of the couch, reaching for the popcorn between you. You paused, weighing your words.

"I wish... I wish we had met under different circumstances." He frowned, glancing at you.

"What do you mean?"

"I..." You fiddled with your hands. "I mean that... I wish you hadn't hired me. I wish we had just met in a coffee shop or something."

He scoffed. "Why's that?"

You couldn't respond. You just looked down at your hands, playing with your fingers. Nanami watched you for a minute before clearing his throat.

"Can I say something as well?"

"Shoot," you whispered, still not looking at him. He cleared his throat, inhaling deep.

"I feel the same." You glanced up quickly, watching him stare ahead. "I wish I had met you under different circumstances as well."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Do you mean... you wish I wasn't a prostitute—"

"No," he cut you off quickly, looking at you. "I wish I had met you at a dinner party so I could enjoy your company without having to pay you, so I could ask you out properly."

The two of you sat in silence for a bit, staring at each other. Nanami sighed, moving the bowl of popcorn to the coffee table, scooting closer to you.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

You swallowed. "What?" He stared at you hard, thinking.

"May I break one of the terms of our agreement?"

"Which... which one?"

Another pause.

"May I kiss you?"

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You woke up late in the morning, in his bed, wearing his t-shirt. You could smell something divine, hear sizzling from the other room. You eventually slid out of bed, padding your way into the kitchen.

"You're up early." Nanami scoffed, flipping a pancake.

"Ten a.m. is not early."

"It is for me." He laughed quietly, humming when you wrapped your arms around his waist, leaning into his back. "You didn't have to make me breakfast."

"I wanted to," he replied. "You should eat something before we meet my parents at the airport."

"Could've just had cereal."

"True, but still..." You hummed, trailing your fingers over the waistband of his sweatpants.

"You just wanted me to eat your cooking, huh?"

He sighed, grabbing your hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. "Maybe."

You giggled, burying yourself into his back, kissing over his shoulder blades.

"You're cute, ya know?"

"I don't think so, but thank you."

You sat down at the dining table, sharing pancakes, fruit compote, and coffee.

"So..." Nanami began, "we broke the your terms of our contract."

"Yeah..."

"...Is it bad that I don't regret it one bit?" You smiled softly.

"No. I feel the same."

"You do?" he asks hopefully, grabbing your hand tenderly.

"Yeah..." You took a deep breath. "Is it bad that I don't want this week to end?"

"No, no, I... I don't want it to end either."

You sat in silence, holding each other's hands.

"Y/N," Nanami spoke, sitting up a bit straighter. "Would you go out with me?"

You felt your heart swell, your throat closing up as you nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes!" You practically leaped into his arms, hugging him tight. You stayed like that for a moment before pulling away. "But I wanna take things slow."

"Yes."

"And I want to stay in my own apartment. I love your place, but I don't think we should move in together yet."

"Understood."

"And I don't want you to spoil me like you have all week."

He sucked in a breath, scrunching his face.

"I don't know if I can do that."

"Kento."

"It's not my fault you deserve to be spoiled."

"Okay, okay... just dial it back a bit. Don't send me on shopping sprees."

"Alright. I'll just surprise you with gifts."

"Ken!"

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