Iris

— I love you in every universe <3

[gothcsz]

Summer Affair: Part 3 | Harry Castillo x F!Reader/“You” | ~3.5k Word Count

SUMMARY: While enjoying your time together in Ibiza, the feelings between you and Harry start to become more palpable, but so does your husband’s ill-timed presence.

RATING: E.

TAGS: No use of y/n, reader has the nickname (Sol) that is used sparingly, summer romance is romancing, infidelity (reader is married), feelings are being caught, these two are drunk and having a good time, Harry is filthy rich, smut heavy chapter, public sex (in a club restroom), creampie (oops), pull out method too (it’s equality), light dirty talk, Harry loves giving praise, fingering, these two are always fucking in a shower i swear, argument with your husband via phone call, if I forgot to tag anything else please let me know, more tags found on series masterlist.

A/N: this took me a lil longer than i wanted it to but i am very much enjoying watching this summer love unfold before my very eyes. we’re halfway done with this series and i’m curious to hear what everyone’s predictions are for how it’s going to end… 👀 hope you all enjoy this chapter! 🖤 reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

P.S. series masterlist. read on ao3. header credit to @/devociones.

You wake to the insistent trill of your phone on the nightstand, its old-school ringtone disrupting the hush of the luxurious bedroom.

You’re cocooned in Harry’s strong arms, his broad chest a solid, heated wall against your back, his breath slow and steady in your hair.

The temptation to ignore everything and melt deeper into him is overwhelming—but after the third ring, you sigh softly and slip free, reaching for the device.

The screen shows your husband’s number. A grimace twists your lips as you silence the intrusion and return into the safety of Harry’s embrace. You nestle your cheek against his chest, listening to the thrum of his heart.

One of the many intimate discoveries you’ve made about Harry Castillo: he’s a gloriously heavy sleeper.

Just as sleep begins to pull you under again, the phone rings once more. Your eyes shoot open and you roll over to decline it. Why is he so persistent? What time is it even in Texas? You glare at the offending device, daring it to ring again.

As if on cue: it does.

With an irritated huff, you flip it over and pop out the battery, tossing the piece aside.

You’re barely settled against Harry’s side again when his alarm blares—jarring you both. You flinch and let out a dramatic groan as he finally stirs awake beneath you.

“Why on Earth do you have your alarm set so early?” you mutter, pressing your body flush to his.

“I’ve got a call with Peter in an hour,” he replies, voice deliciously raspy with sleep. “He’s in Australia this week—that’s about an eight hour time difference from us.” He leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to the crown of your head.

You pout, the hazy memories from yesterday flooding back: candlelit dinner on the terrace, sweet wine staining your lips, flirtation dissolving into desperate kisses, clothes torn away in a haste, and the two of you fucking like animals in heat until exhaustion claimed you.

Heat blooms across your body at the recollection. Ever since your first time in Lagos, you two have been insatiable, getting it on whenever you find pockets of privacy during your exploration of Ibiza.

After years in a marriage where passion had quietly withered, Harry reawakens the horny woman that was locked away inside you this entire time. 

Joel was never a bad lover—rough when you craved it, tender when you needed softness—you’ve just been without sex for so long. You don’t want to come down from this cloud just yet.

Gently, you push him onto his back and climb astride him, your thighs bracketing his hips, pinning him beneath you with playful intent.

The pale morning light filtering through the gauzy curtains worships his features: his dark curls tousled from your fingers last night when he buried his face between your legs and devoured you until you were breathless, those kind brown eyes now darkening with lust as your warm, slick pussy presses against his hardening length. 

“What are you up to?” he asks, a knowing smile curving his lips. His large hands settle on your waist, thumbs stroking the sensitive dip there as his gaze devours the sight of your breasts, nipples peaked in the cool breeze.

“Trying to convince you to stay in bed with me just a little longer,” you answer sweetly, rolling your hips in a lazy, teasing glide. A breathy sigh escapes you as his cock parts your swollen folds, the velvety head dragging deliciously against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

Harry grunts, fingers tightening on your hips in warning. “We both know I’ll never leave this bed with you on top of me like this.”

You smirk, leaning down to capture his mouth in a soft kiss, arching your back to increase the pressure. 

He tries to resist—for all of two seconds—then surrenders completely. With effortless strength, he grips your waist and lifts you slightly. “Put me in,” he orders in that deep, gravelly morning voice that sends a fresh rush of desire straight to your core.

You melt, biting your lip as you reach between your bodies. Your fingers wrap around his heavy shaft, giving it a teasing squeeze and it earns you a sharp pinch to your hip that draws a surprised giggle from you.

You run his leaking tip up and down your slit, coating him thoroughly, before notching him at your entrance and sinking down slowly.

The stretch is exquisite—a burning fullness that pulls a shared moan from you both. You settle fully (still a little sore from last night), hands planted on his broad chest, and begin to ride him with his guiding hands on your hips. Each drag is pure bliss.

“Oh, Harry…” you whine, the sound breathy and desperate.

His brows knit in concentration, savoring how perfectly your walls tense around him as the pace quickly turns frantic and needy.

Overwhelmed, you slump forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck, panting hot against his skin as your orgasm coils tight, ass clapping down against his muscular thighs.

“Poor baby,” he teases. “Initiated this and can’t even handle it.” Harry plants his feet on the mattress, using the leverage to fuck up into you harder, deeper, the head of his cock kissing that perfect spot until you shatter—crying out his name, your pussy gushing around him in pulsing waves.

He follows moments later, pulling out to spill across the soft curve of your ass.

You feel exhaustion tugging you back toward the pillows. Harry senses it, catching his own breath before he slips out from under you, leaving you sprawled on your stomach, and retrieves the cloth from last night.

Gently, he wipes his spend from your skin then leans in to kiss your bare shoulder. 

“Sleep, sweetheart,” he whispers against your ear. “I’ll bring you breakfast after my meeting.”

You manage to weakly nod, drifting off with a contented smile, the disassembled phone on the nightstand forgotten. 

Harry’s gaze lingers there a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face about who had called so insistently in the early hours. 

You lie sprawled luxuriously atop Harry as you enjoy the afternoon lounging on the sandy coastline of the beautiful city of Ibiza. 

The light sea breeze carries the scent of distant wildflowers that brings a sense of tranquility you don’t think you’ll tire of.

Below you, Harry’s body serves as your personal chaise—broad, sun-warmed, and utterly relaxed. A portable radio you picked up in town hums softly with upbeat Spanish pop, the melody blending seamlessly with the distant crash of waves and the occasional cry of seabirds.

Your book rests open against his shoulder blades, a riveting tale unfolding in your hands. You’re lost in a particularly charged paragraph when your phone’s ringtone disrupts the idyll.

Reaching down into your woven tote bag, you fish out the device and decline the call—just as you have done repeatedly all day. You only keep the battery in as a precaution, in case a true emergency arises with family or friends, not because you want to entertain your husband’s persistent attempts to tug you back to reality.

Harry hasn’t commented on the calls until now. His voice rumbles low and lazy from beneath you, warm as the sun on your back. “Shouldn’t you get that?”

You sigh, not from his question but from the frustration of Joel inserting himself like a persistent thorn even from across countries. “It’s nothing,” you mutter, shifting slightly to settle more comfortably against the firm planes of his back, your bare thighs brushing his sides.

“What if it’s an emergency?” he reasons gently. He lies on his stomach with his arms crossed, head pillowed on his hands, eyes closed behind expensive sunglasses in blissful repose. The sunlight plays across the sculpted muscles of his shoulders, highlighting every ridge and dip.

“It’s not. Trust me.” Your fingers trace idle patterns along his tanned skin, hoping to distract him back to the moment.

“Then why do they keep calling?”

“Because my friends don’t seem to understand that I’m on vacation and not really in the mood to gossip,” you reply smoothly, the lie slipping out a little too easily. You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, tasting the faint salt of his skin mixed with sunscreen.

Harry falls quiet. He’s noticed how skillfully you dodge anything too personal, how little you reveal about your life beyond the surface level.

Yet he doesn’t press. For a man who has spent decades as the perfect son, the driven boss, the polished socialite in New York’s affluent circles, this summer with you is a rare gift—a chance to turn his mind off completely. 

He chooses the joy of the present, letting the questions drift away on the breeze like forgotten sails.

The afternoon stretches lazily onward. Eventually, as the sun dips lower and paints the horizon, you set your book aside and prop your chin on his shoulder. “We should go clubbing tonight,” you murmur against his ear, lips brushing the sensitive shell. “It’s what the island is famous for—partying until dawn.”

Harry lets out a dramatic groan, though a smile tugs at his lips. “You’re trying to kill an old man. I’m fifty, Sol. My idea of a wild night these days involves good wine and an early bedtime.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you shift to straddle his lower back more fully, your hands sliding up to massage his shoulders with teasing affection. “Oh, please. You have more stamina than men half your age, Mr. Castillo. I should know.” You lean in closer, voice dropping to a honeyed, coaxing purr.

“Come on… it’ll be fun. I’m dying to see you out of your element.”

He turns his head, sunglasses long gone, catching your gaze with those brown eyes that always seem to put you in a trance. For a moment, something deeper flickers there—affection so intense it borders on love—but he banks it, choosing lightness instead.

“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he says, a chuckle rumbling through his chest as he turns beneath you so that you’re straddling his front, very reminiscent of your position from earlier this morning.

You shrug with faux coyness. 

“Fine. You win. But if I pull a muscle on the dance floor, you’re nursing me back to health on the yacht.”

“Deal,” you answer giddily, leaning forward and sealing it with a sweet kiss.

You tumble from one exclusive club to the next, the island’s legendary energy coursing through your veins as if it were liquid starlight.

With him by your side, doors that require months on a list swing open instantly. Harry Castillo’s name is currency it seems—wealthy, respected, so effortlessly commanding. Velvet ropes part like magic and you’re ushered into VIP sections dripping with opulence: crystal chandeliers, plush velvet booths, and terraces overlooking the moonlit sea.

The night blurs into a vibrant haze of music and laughter. At the first club, deep house throbs through the floor, bass vibrating up your legs. Harry starts off endearingly stiff on the dance floor, more boardroom than party. You can’t help but tease him, dancing with a playful grin.

“Come on, old man!” you giggle, grabbing his hands and pulling him closer. “Loosen those hips! I know you can move better than this.”

He rolls his eyes, a sheepish smile breaking across his handsome face, but the drinks keep flowing—colorful cocktails garnished with fresh fruit, shots that burn sweetly down your throat—and he gradually loosens up.

By the third club, where sultry techno gives way to Latin rhythms, both of you have released your inhibitions.

His hands find your waist with growing confidence, sliding over the silky fabric of your dress as he pulls you flush against him. The heat of his body radiates through your clothes, strong fingers gripping your hips as you move together.

It feels intoxicating. His broad palms roaming your curves, tracing the dip of your waist, squeezing the swell of your ass while the music shifts from pounding beats to sensual melodies.

You dance beneath swirling lights that paint his curly hair in shades of neon blue and magenta, losing yourself in the way his thigh presses between yours, the pressure sending sparks of desire dancing across your skin.

The world tilts in the most delightful way, every touch amplified as hours slip away in a whirlwind of bass drops, sweaty bodies, and stolen kisses on crowded dance floors. You’ve both drunk more tonight than at any point on this voyage. Any worries about the future drowned in rum and happiness.

In one of the venues, the sexual tension snaps.

Harry has you pressed against the door of a private restroom, the thump of music vibrating through the wood at your back. His larger body cages you in, the scent of his cologne dizzying you.

His mouth crashes down on yours in a breathless, hungry kiss, tongue tasting of sweet liquor and tropical fruit as it tangles with yours. You moan into him, your fingers threading through his damp curls.

Your hips grind shamelessly against the growing bulge straining in his pants, seeking friction.

You don’t care about the crowd outside or the luxury surrounding you—only the lust he stokes in your body, the way his touch slides up your thighs, bunching your dress higher, fingers digging into soft flesh with urgency.

“You’re so beautiful like this. I can’t get enough of you.” He growls against your lips, hips rolling forward to meet your desperate movements. 

The world narrows to the intoxicating pull between you. Nothing else exists but the aching need to have him inside of you.

His fingers hook into the lace of your panties and yank them aside. Two thick fingers drag through your slit, spreading your arousal before he circles your swollen clit and it makes you whine.

“So wet already,” he mutters against your ear. “Dripping down your thighs, baby. You need me that badly?”

You nod frantically, whimpering as he sinks two fingers deep inside you. The wet squelch of him fingering you fills the small space, barely drowned out by the music.

“Please, Harry—” you beg, grinding down on his hand.

He withdraws his fingers, making you pout at the loss. He frees his cock, just as desperate to feel you, hooking one of your legs high around his waist, spreading you better. He lines himself up against your opening.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, swaying slightly from the drinks—from you.

Your eyes lock with his as he thrusts forward in one powerful stroke, all eight delicious inches burying fully inside your body. A broken moan tears from your throat as your walls flutter and clench around the intrusion, mouth falling agape.

You’re so warm and tight and utterly perfect. It makes Harry feel crazy for how much he craves you all the time. “That’s it, sweet girl… taking me so well. You feel incredible.”

He starts to move, rolling thrusts that press you harder against the door. Each stroke is deliberate, savoring the way your body sucks him in. One hand grips your thigh firmly as he fucks you, the other braced beside your head, his taut forearm flexing.

“You’re so perfect,” he praises, voice strained with pleasure when your pussy tenses around him. “So soft… so wet… you make me lose my mind. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

He angles his hips, hitting that overwhelming spot inside you with every press. Your cries of his name grow louder, sweeter, and Harry drinks them in like fine wine. 

He wants to give you everything. Money, security, a house to call a home. Is he delusional for falling so fast? He thought love was supposed to be the most difficult thing in the world. 

How come it feels so easy to love you?

The pleasure builds intensely. Harry’s pace quickens, but his touch remains devout, eyes locked on your face as if he’s memorizing every expression of your ecstasy.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” The hand at your thigh slips between you to circle your clit with enough pressure to make tears well in your eyes. “Come for me, sweetheart. I want to feel my beautiful girl come all over me.”

Your orgasm washes over you in powerful waves. You sob out his name, digging your freshly manicured nails into his back, clenching wetly around his shaft. 

Harry follows right behind you with a heavy sigh, burying himself as deep as possible as he comes. Thick, hot ropes of his release fill you completely. 

You both tremble through the aftershocks, breathing ragged, bodies slick with sweat from all the dancing and fucking. Harry presses kisses along your jaw and neck, murmuring sweet praises while the distant party continues to thrive beyond the door.

Neither of you speaks about the fact that he just finished inside you—the warm, slick evidence of it already beginning to trickle down where you connect. 

He pulls out, grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, helping you clean up and straighten your dress with gentle hands, a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“Don’t look so proud of yourself,” you scold playfully.

“I just enjoy having sex with you baby, that’s all.”

After a quick refresh, he calls for the driver, then tucks you against his side. Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, the combination of mind-blowing sex and endless cocktails, leaving you unsteady.

You cling to him, arm wrapped tightly around his waist, face pressed into his chest as the scent of his cologne fills your senses.

Harry keeps you upright, that competency of his kicking in as he sobers up enough to weave through the bustling crowd and out into the summer night air. The breeze caresses your flushed skin while you wait for the car. He presses occasional kisses to your temple, murmuring words that make your heart flutter.

The driver arrives quickly and the ride back to The Daydreamer passes in a warm, drunken blur of city lights reflecting off the dark sea. Once aboard the yacht, Harry disappears briefly to get the shower running and preparing the bed, giving you a moment alone in the softly lit cabin.

You bend to slip off your heels, peeling your ruined underwear off too. Suddenly, your phone—left charging earlier—lights up and rings. Fueled by alcohol and frustration, you snatch it up and answer.

“What the hell, Joel?” you snap. “I told you to stop calling. I’m on vacation. Leave. Me. Alone.”

He can hear it immediately—the slur in your words, how inebriated you are. “Are you drunk?” he demands, anger sharpening his voice. “Christ, where are you? Why haven’t you been answerin’ any of my calls?”

“Because I don’t owe you anything—not after all you’ve put me through.”

“So ignorin’ me and pretendin’ like we aren’t still married is how you decide to deal with it?”

“That’s none of your business!”

His frustration boils over when you fire back.

“What the hell are you talking about? Of course it’s my business. You’re my wife.” 

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “You don’t get to suddenly act like you give a shit about this marriage. Not after you prioritized everything else above it. I became an afterthought to you. Even at fucking work!”

Silence. Of course. That’s his go to.

“The way you’ve been acting…” he trails off, not acknowledging your truth, which further proves the point of the whole reason why you two have failed as a couple. “This isn’t you—”

You hear Harry’s footsteps returning. Without another word, you hang up and toss the phone aside. You’re not going to deal with his bullshit tonight.

Harry had lingered just outside the room, fighting the urge to eavesdrop. It took everything in him not to listen—he respects your boundaries too much. If you don’t want to share who keeps calling and frustrating you, then so be it.

He steps back in just as you hang up. “Everything okay, sweetheart?” he asks, concern softening his brown eyes.

You nod, the motion making you sway on drunk legs. Closing the distance, you reach for him, pulling him into a wet, needy kiss. Your hands push the straps of your dress down until the fabric pools at your feet, leaving you beautifully, completely naked before him.

Harry’s breath catches. Tipsy as he is, he can’t resist. His hands roam hungrily over your bare skin, worshipping every curve as he devours you with deep, open-mouthed kisses. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, voice husky with renewed desire. “My beautiful girl.”

He walks you backward toward the luxurious bathroom where steam curls invitingly from the large shower.

This time the sex is slower. He fucks you against the wall again, your wet chest pressed against the tile as he thrusts into you from behind, his lips at your ear continuing to say all the right things.

The argument with Joel fades into nothing. The longer you spend wrapped up in this fantasy with Harry, the more you’re beginning to dread what’ll happen when the summer ends.

Will you come clean about your husband? Stay and try to make things work with the billionaire? Or will you see this as the summer fling that it is all the way until the end, disappearing from Harry’s life as easily as you had entered it?

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[pedroscurls]

blurred lines (pt. 7)

summary: it's day six on the island... and you and harry finally talk.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, accidental physical altercation (it's very brief, blink and you'll miss it), y'all this is just so heartbreaking, no use of y/n. word count: 5k a/n: can y'all believe that we have one more chapter left??? THIS CHAPTER literally broke my heart. i really had to tell myself to follow my outline instead of just going off the rails lmao. please don't hate me after this one though. i promise there's a happy ending. hope you enjoy <3 pt. 6 - pt 8. || series masterlist. || read on AO3. song: back to friends by sombr

That following morning, you had woken up in Harry’s arms. You should have felt relieved, but instead, you felt a weight on your chest. You had sex with him last night—drunken, but good fucking sex. You slowly moved away from him, careful not to wake him, but he was already up. 

“Leaving me already?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes. 

You sighed and sat up from bed. “Last night was—”

“A mistake?” He finished for you. “Is that what you’d call it?” 

“Harry,” you whispered. 

“It wasn’t a mistake for me,” he continued, slowly sitting up from bed now too. “For once since this fucking trip, I’m seeing everything so clearly now.” 

You shook your head. You still had your back facing him. You didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t think you were ready for it either. 

“You hurt me,” you said over your shoulder. “And I didn’t think you would ever be someone who would.” 

Then, you stood from the bed and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you. 

Harry sighed. When he heard the water run, he stood from the bed too and left the room, walking down the hallway and into the kitchen. 

One more day left and everything would change forever. 

You emerged from the bathroom half an hour later. You were dressed casually—a pair of black spandex shorts and a light grey tank top—for a morning walk and massage scheduled with Harry’s mother. 

When you left the bedroom, you were expecting to see Harry seated in the living area or in the kitchen. You didn’t expect to see him shirtless and in his board shorts jumping into the water. You bit your lower lip and watched him from the living area, the sun cascading down into his tanned skin. 

You shook your head and looked down at your phone. It was a message from his mother, telling you that she’d be seeing you soon. You glanced back outside only to see him climbing out of the water and onto the deck, water trickling down his body. 

“Are you leaving?” Harry asked, a towel in hand as he used it to dry himself. 

“Oh, um, I’m meeting your mom this morning.” 

He nodded. “When you get back… can we talk?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about.”

“Baby,” he sighed. Then, he said your name. “Please.” 

“You’re not changing my mind,” you said quietly. 

“I know,” he replied. “I just—I don’t want us to leave things like this.” 

You sighed. 

Harry’s eyes softened. 

Then, he pleaded once more. “Please.” 

“Fine,” you said. “Tomorrow’s the big party before we leave, so we should—we should at least pretend that we’re okay.” 

Harry nodded. He let out a relieved breath. “Okay, great. I’ll—I’ll uh, see you later then.” He took a step forward out of instinct, almost leaning down to kiss your cheek but he stopped himself. 

Especially because you turned on your heel to begin walking away from him anyway. 

Harry watched you for a moment, hoping that you’d spare him a glance before you reached the front door. 

But you didn’t. 

You kept on walking like last night didn’t happen. Like the things you both said didn’t matter. 

Peter walked through the threshold of Harry’s villa and glanced at the other man with a clenched jaw. A part of him felt guilty about finding out that Harry’s relationship with you was fake; Harry felt the need to lie to him and to his parents just so they would stop asking him about Lucy and other prospects. 

“Peter,” Harry said, shutting the door. 

Peter looked around. He didn’t see you. 

“She’s with mom,” Harry added. “She’s not here.” 

Peter sighed in relief. Harry had made him promise yesterday not to tell anyone he knew, especially you. 

“How are you doing?” Peter asked. 

“Terrible,” he answered honestly. “But we leave the day after tomorrow, so just gotta get through that, right?” 

Harry walked to the living area and sat on the sofa. He stared out the dock, having kept the large sliding door open to let the natural light and warmth into the villa. “Did you tell Charlotte?” 

Peter followed him and sat on the sofa next to his brother. “You know I didn’t.” 

“Thanks,” he sighed. 

“I can’t believe you—you had to lie.” 

Harry glanced over at him. “You all wouldn’t let me breathe,” he admitted. “If mom or dad wasn’t trying to set me up, there you were. Trying to hook me up with Charlotte’s friends. I just—I just wanted it all to stop.” 

“I’m sorry,” Peter whispered. “We just want you happy. Lucy—she—”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “It’s done and over with.” 

“Did you even love her?” Peter asked. 

Harry shrugged. “Does everything have to be about love? We were both compatible. I would’ve added value to her life.” 

Peter shook his head. “Love is everything, Harry.” 

“Right.” 

“And Adore? You really thought you’d find someone?” 

“You did.” 

“I got lucky,” Peter said. 

Harry sighed. “I had a lot of matches.” 

“Doesn’t mean they’re all going to work out.” 

He looked away. Harry’s mind drifted to you. Always to you. “Yeah, sure.” 

“What is the plan after this? Once we’re back in New York?” 

Harry’s jaw clenched. “She and I go our separate ways,” he answered. 

“Really?” 

He shrugged. “It’s what she wants.” 

“But what do you want?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Peter reached out and rested a hand on Harry’s forearm. “It matters, Harry. What you want matters too.” 

He looked down at his brother’s hand and sighed shakily. Harry had been keeping everything bottled in—away from his family, away from you. Saying it out loud would make it real and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that, especially not if the end result would be you leaving him for good. 

“It doesn’t,” Harry repeated. “I tried, okay? I—I tried. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.” 

Peter sighed. “If this relationship was all a lie, then… then why does it seem so real?” 

“We had a physical relationship before all of this,” he admitted. 

“What?” 

“Sometimes, she’d show up at my place. Oftentimes, I’d show up at hers.” 

“And you both just…” 

“Yeah,” Harry finished for him. “It was only ever sex. Before this trip, that was all it ever was. She’d use me. I’d use her. We knew what the expectations were for each other. I didn’t want her. She didn’t want me.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “How long was that going on for?” 

“Long enough,” he answered. 

“Even during Lucy?” 

Harry shook his head. “We wouldn’t—we wouldn’t see each other if either of us were in a relationship or exclusively seeing someone else. It really was just only sex.” 

“So, what was different about this trip?” 

“I—I started seeing her differently,” he confessed. “I don’t know, Peter. The plan was to always go back to before once the trip was over.“ 

“But?” 

“But now, she doesn’t want anything to do with me after this,” he sighed, bringing a hand to his face. Harry shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t slept, not really, especially since he was holding you all night. 

“Do you really believe that?” 

“You didn’t see her face.” 

“You love her,” Peter whispered. “Don’t you?” 

Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Peter. His deep brown eyes glistened with tears threatening to spill over. He hadn’t known what love was… not until this trip. 

Not until you. 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “I do… and I don’t know how to fix it.” 

“Yes, you do,” Peter said. “You know exactly what you need to do to fix it.” 

“But I don’t think it’d be enough.” Harry confessed. “Her finding out that I had an Adore membership… I didn’t think she’d react that way.” 

Peter let a small smile line his lips. He looked over at him and leaned over to squeeze his older brother’s shoulder. “That’s because she loves you too, Harry.” 

He looked over at him. Eyes slightly widened and lips parted in surprise. “What?” 

“Think about it. If she didn’t care about you, or love you too, do you think she would have reacted that way?” 

“I don’t—I don’t know.” 

“Come on,” Peter chuckled. “You had that membership for a reason… and you didn’t tell her for a reason.” 

“I didn’t think she’d care.” 

“And now that you know she does…” 

“Oh,” Harry said. He looked out onto the deck once more. He should’ve felt relief, should’ve felt the weight on his shoulders lift. But instead, it did the complete opposite. 

Because if you did love him, why were you so willing to throw it all away? 

Why would you still want to push him away?

“Just… talk to her.” 

“And what if she still doesn’t want this? Doesn’t want me?” Harry asked quietly. 

“Then, you move forward. You move on.” 

“And if I can’t?”

Peter sighed. “Things will work out,” he said softly. 

Harry scoffed and shook his head. “Things don’t usually work out for me.” 

“You’d be surprised,” Peter replied. “Just be honest with her. Be honest with how you feel.” 

Harry nodded once. 

“I’m serious.” 

“Right.” 

“What do you have to lose, Harry? You’re losing her anyway.” 

He looked at the younger man with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. “I’ll… I’ll try.” 

You were lying on your abdomen on the massage table, eyes shut and next to Harry’s mother. The masseuse had come in and adjusted your towel before applying some oil onto your back. You tried to relax, tried to just revel in the moment, but you couldn’t. 

All you could think about was Harry. 

Last night. 

The sex. 

The falling asleep in his arms. 

The fact that he came inside of you. 

This trip wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was meant to be easy—fake the relationship and then head back to New York once it was done and over with. 

You both established rules. 

Agreed that you both would follow them. 

You weren’t only angry at him, but you were also frustrated with yourself. Before this, it never crossed your mind that Harry could potentially be someone you’d want to be with. 

It wasn’t like he ever showed interest either. The relationship you had with him was purely sex, simply out of convenience. 

But this trip changed everything. You started to wonder if maybe it was there all along. It had to be, right? The physical attraction could only go so far, but the lingering glances and the words you said to each other these last few days had to have come from somewhere. 

You both stopped pretending this was something other than it was. 

Because you slipped into your role so easily. 

And Harry welcomed you like it was second nature to him. 

“You’re tense,” the masseuse said softly, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I just—” You sighed and slowly lifted your head off the table to look over your shoulder at him. “Can I just have a few minutes?” 

“Of course,” he nodded with a smile. “I’ll be right outside.” 

You sat up and wrapped the towel around yourself, climbing off the table to pull on a robe. His mother nodded to her own masseuse who also left the room before the older woman did the same. She sat up from the table and pulled on her own robe before walking over to you. 

“You okay?” She asked softly. 

You nodded and turned to look over at her, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

She sighed. “What is going on with you and Harry?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I’m just thinking about how things will change after this trip. It was nice… to get away from real life for a bit,” you lied.

His mother arched a brow before she poured two glasses of wine and handed one over to you. “You know, you’re a terrible liar,” she laughed quietly. 

You shook your head and looked down at your glass of wine, taking a careful sip before you looked back out the window to the amazing view of the island. “What if I do love him?” You asked quietly. 

His mother smiled. “I think that’d be a good thing, no?”

You looked at her and your lower lip trembled as you tightened your grip around the wine glass. You were standing in front of a woman that meant so much to Harry, lying to her face, and it all felt so… wrong. Before this trip, they were just your employers. Now, it felt like they were welcoming you to their family. 

“Mrs. Castillo—”

She clicked her tongue. “That’s too formal, honey. I know you have been working for us for years, but I’d like to think that our relationship has changed since then.” 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. 

Tears began to pool at your eyes.

His mother immediately noticed. She set down her wine glass and pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back gently. “I think you need to listen to your heart,” she whispered. “You’re letting your mind do all the thinking. What does your heart tell you?” 

You bit your lower lip to prevent it from trembling even further. You knew what your heart wanted. You knew who your heart wanted, but your mind told you otherwise. Harry didn’t want you. If he did, he’d have done something about it sooner than this trip.

Right? 

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

She let out a quiet laugh and pulled back to look at you. With her gentle hands, she cupped your cheeks and slowly wiped your tears away. “Yes, you do.” 

“Love—it’s scary, isn’t it?”

She nodded. “It is, but when you find it—when you truly find it—it’s the best thing in the world.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready,” you answered honestly. “I don’t know if Harry—if he’s someone that’s meant for me.” 

She smiled. Wiped away the last tear that trickled down your cheek. “And if he isn’t, that’s okay… but I think there’s something else that’s holding you back, honey. Why do you think you’re not ready?” 

“Because if I was, I wouldn’t be this afraid of it. Of… love.” 

“I think that’s the point,” she replied. “Love isn’t meant to be easy—finding it especially isn’t—but when you find the right person, everything else just falls into place.” 

“Were you afraid? Of loving your husband?” 

She nodded instantly. “Of course,” she answered. “But not taking that risk was something I was even more scared of… because what if I hadn’t allowed myself to love him? What if I didn’t tell him how I felt? What if I just ran away? We wouldn’t be here,” she continued. “Love is all about taking risks, honey… and yes, I’m biased because Harry’s my son, but he has never looked at anyone else the way he looks at you.”

You inhaled sharply.

“And that look—it didn’t only start from this trip.”

“What?” You asked.

“Whenever you worked one of our events, you’d always catch his eye.” 

You bit your lower lip. You knew he would look at you during those events, but you always assumed it was because of his anticipation and impatience to get you alone—to take you to bed like you both had done so many times. You didn’t think that anyone else noticed and you certainly didn’t think that it meant anything more than just the physical relationship you both started. 

“I mean, you are a beautiful young woman, of course, but it was different. He never looked at any other woman the way he looks at you. Not even Lucy,” she said. “And you don’t have to tell me what you want, or explain to me how you’re feeling, but you do need to be honest with yourself.”

“What if I can’t?” You asked. “What if I can’t be honest with myself?”

“Then be honest with Harry.” 

You nodded. 

“Do you mind—do you mind if I end this massage early and just take a walk to clear my head?” 

His mother smiled. “Of course. I’ll see you at dinner tonight though, okay? It’ll be at our villa, just the immediate family before the big party tomorrow.” 

“Yes, we’ll be there,” you said, pulling her back into a tight hug. “Thank you,” you whispered. “For listening.” 

“Always, sweetheart.”

After your walk, you stepped foot into the villa and found Harry standing in the kitchen area with a cup of coffee. His hair was damp and he was dressed casually, but when he saw you, his eyes widened and he set the cup down onto the counter.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Hey,” you answered. 

“You’re back early.” 

“I ended my massage early and just went for a walk instead.” 

“Oh,” Harry nodded, rounding the kitchen counter to get a bit closer to you. “How’s my mom?”

“She’s good,” you answered once more, biting your lower lip. Everything about this interaction felt forced—awkward. “I think she’s excited for the party tomorrow.”

Harry chuckled. “I’d imagine so,” he replied. 

“But we do have dinner tonight at their villa.”

He nodded. “Okay.” 

“Okay,” you repeated.

You were about to turn on your heel before Harry reached out for you. His hand slowly touched your wrist and you turned around to look up at him.

“Can we talk?” 

You nodded. “I think that was the plan, right?” 

“Right.”

You pulled your hand gently from his and walked towards the living area, sitting on the couch and pulling your legs onto it. 

Harry wasn’t sure if you wanted him next to you, so he opted for the loveseat adjacent to where you were sitting. It was like he was tiptoeing around you, not wanting to scare you away. So, he took a deep breath and said, “Peter knows.”

“What?”

“I told him about… about us. About our deal. About what we planned.”

You sighed. “What did he say?” 

He shrugged. “He just couldn’t believe I had to lie.” 

“Yeah, well, he’s also part of the reason why you did, so…”

“I know. I told him that. Said that him and our parents just—they wouldn’t let me breathe. It was like I was suffocating.”

You nodded and looked away from him. 

Slowly, Harry leaned forward. “Baby…”

You bit your lower lip, keeping your eyes away from him as you felt tears slowly trickle at the corner of your eyes. You brought a hand up to your cheek and wiped them away slowly. “Harry, I don’t—I don’t think I’m capable of this. You were right. I’ve never been in love before. All those relationships—they were never the real thing.” 

Harry cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but you continued. 

“And again, you were fucking right. I broke a rule. The one important fucking rule,” you said, finally looking over at him with tears in your eyes. “This stopped being fake that minute we shared that dance. You know it. I know it.” 

“Yes, and I think we should—”

You shook your head. “But that’s the thing, isn’t it?” You interrupted quietly. “None of this would’ve happened if you didn’t bring me on this trip. We never—we never wanted each other like that. We understood what we were to each other.”

“Things change,” Harry said. 

“You never wanted me that way,” you whispered. “And that’s okay because I—I didn’t think I ever wanted you that way either.” 

Harry felt his own tears now. “I can’t—I can’t go back to New York like this.” 

“You’re gonna have to… because I will have to as well,” you said, voice shaky now. “We both just got caught up in this trip, that’s all. Once we’re back in New York, I’m giving my resignation—”

“Baby, no,” he said, standing from the loveseat to sit on the coffee table in front of you. Harry reached for your hands, but you pulled them away slowly. 

“Be honest with yourself,” you whispered. “You had Adore’s services for a reason, Harry. I will never be someone you want and you know what, that’s okay. I—I’m happy for the time we shared with each other.” 

He shook his head, tears trickling down his cheeks now. “Stop—”

“We’re going to finish out this trip like we planned—pretending that we’re in this relationship, but once this trip is done, we go back to New York and go our separate ways.”

“No.”

You reached up to cup his cheek now, wiping away the fallen tears slowly. “You’ll find someone that’s a better match for you. Someone honest, someone real… and I’m sorry. For the things I said before.”

“I canceled Adore,” he blurted out. 

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have.”

Harry shook his head. “How—how can you look at me and pretend that I’m someone you’ve never met? After all this, how—”

“Because I have to,” you interjected. “Because if this was real, it would’ve happened a long time ago.” 

“You can’t keep telling me what’s real and what isn’t,” Harry mumbled. “What I feel for you—it’s fucking real… and I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, but it is. You’re—”

“Let’s just get through tonight and tomorrow,” you whispered quietly, slowly standing from the couch. 

“Baby,” Harry pleaded. 

“We have one more day, Harry,” you said, wiping your tears away and straightening up. “Let’s make it a good one, okay?” You turned on your heel and walked down the hallway, leaving him in the living area.

Harry stared at the couch, tears strolling down his cheeks now. He clenched his jaw and when he heard the bedroom door shut, he finally stood up and walked towards the kitchen area again. He didn’t know how to fix it, didn’t know how to change your mind. 

If this was what you wanted—if this was going to make you happy—then he’d listen. 

Even if it was breaking his fucking heart.

Later that night, both you and Harry walked into his parents’ villa. Even now, it felt awkward. He wouldn’t touch you and you wouldn’t look at him. The walk to the villa was quiet too—almost like you both were just counting the minutes before the trip ended. 

“Harry!” His mother smiled and looked between the both of you. She noticed it instantly. You leaned up to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away before your lips could touch him. You sighed and excused yourself, leaving Harry alone with his mother. 

“You okay?” She asked.

“Fine,” he answered. “Drinks?” 

His mother sighed and pointed to the kitchen. “Pace yourself.”

“I’m fine, ma,” he said, kissing her cheek quickly before he made his way to the kitchen. Harry saw you with Charlotte, sitting on the couch and laughing at what she was saying. Harry tightened his jaw. 

How could you act like nothing was wrong? 

How could you act normal when his heart was breaking? 

Peter stepped up to him and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “So… how’d the talk go?”

“Fucking horrible,” he answered, downing a shot of tequila before pouring himself another one. “I shouldn’t have listened to you.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “What?”

“You and your wife shouldn’t have fucking meddled either,” he muttered. “From now on, leave me alone. My life is my own.”

“Harry, I—”

“Do I make myself clear?” He interrupted, staring at his brother with narrowed eyes.

“Y—Yeah,” Peter replied. “Got it.” 

“Good.” Harry downed another shot and instead of pouring himself another shot, he just grabbed the entire bottle of tequila and walked outside of the villa to the deck, sitting down on the edge as he stared down at the water. 

His mother noticed the interaction between both her sons, furrowing a brow at Harry before she glanced over at you. You looked at him and excused yourself from your conversation with Charlotte, stepping out onto the deck where he was. 

“You wanna share?” You asked, moving to sit down next to him.

Harry shook his head. “No.”

“We still have a role to play,” you whispered. 

“Don’t fucking care anymore,” he said. When he turned to look at you, his eyes were red, tears brimming his eyes. “If they find out that it’s fake, who fucking cares?” 

You cleared your throat. You reached out and grabbed the bottle of tequila before he shook his head, using  his free hand to stop you and accidentally shoving you backwards. 

You fell onto your back, eyes wide as you looked at him. 

Then, it suddenly registered what he just did. Harry’s eyes softened instantly.

“Baby, I’m so sorry—”

“You act like you’re the only one hurting,” you whispered, voice trembling and the tears that you held back now falling down your cheeks. “But you hurt me too.” 

You stood from the deck and Harry did too.

He took a step closer.

You took one step back.

“Harry?” His mother said. 

“I didn’t mean to push you,” Harry whispered, ignoring his mother. 

“I know you didn’t… It’s okay,” you said. “But I think—I think I should just head back,” you turned to look at his mother and gave her an apologetic smile. “And I think maybe you should just spend the night here.” 

Harry tried to reach out for you again, but you were already walking away. He watched you whisper something to his mother, who nodded in understanding, before he watched you walk away. It wasn’t until you were out of his parents’ villa that he finally broke down. 

His mother immediately caught him, wrapping her arms around him as he cried into her shoulder. “I—I ruined everything…” 

She sighed and began rubbing his back gently, trying to get him to calm down as she sat back down on the deck with him next to her. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on, Harry?” 

“I love her, ma,” he mumbled, pulling back and away from her. “I love her so fucking much and it hurts.” 

“If you love her, then why are you both treating each other like you don’t?” 

“Because—” Harry looked at her and bit his lower lip. “Everything about this—it was all fake.”

Once you were finally alone and back at the villa, you collapsed onto the bed and cried into the pillow. You screamed into it, gripping the edges of it tightly. You didn’t think that Harry would have this big of a reaction—you honestly thought he’d agree, that going back to New York and parting ways would be something he’d agree with. 

But you knew that it wouldn’t work outside of this environment. If you and Harry did give it a real try back in New York, you knew that there was a big possibility it would only end in heartbreak. 

So, you figured why not end it now? And it hurt, it fucking hurt, because you did love him. But the fact that it took this trip for you both to see what you both felt for each other made you wonder how real it was. 

There had to have been a reason why both you and Harry never wanted each other in that way prior to this trip. Right? 

Sitting up, tears streaking down your cheeks, you reached for your camera. When you turned it on and navigated to the gallery, you felt your chest tighten at the pictures you had taken so far on this trip. You hovered over the delete button on the ones that you took of Harry, but you couldn’t bring yourself up to actually delete them. 

You thought about your conversation with Harry earlier—how he looked at you so completely wrecked and broken. 

Then, you thought about what his mother told you earlier that morning. 

Love is all about taking risks. 

When you find the right person, everything else just falls into place. 

He never looked at any other woman the way he looks at you. 

Why did everyone else notice this but you and Harry? 

Your thumb clicked a video recording on your camera that you didn’t remember taking. Furrowing a brow, you pressed play and heard Harry’s voice come through the camera. 

It was the day before everything changed. 

The day that you both shared that intimate dance on the beach.

The day that everything shifted. 

“You said to never touch your camera, but I couldn’t help myself, baby,” he laughed into the camera, panning it to face you as you swam in the water outside the deck of your villa. “But look how beautiful you are.”

“Harry, what are you doing?!” You exclaimed, swimming to the surface and rubbing your eyes. The camera zoomed in on you and Harry chuckled once more.

“Nothing!” 

“Liar!” You giggled, disappearing under the water again. 

Harry sighed contentedly. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, baby,” he whispered into the camera. “I better turn this off before you catch me using this… but if you’re seeing this later, I’m sorry in advanced. I just couldn’t help myself.”

You felt tears sting your eyes as you continued to watch the video. 

“I just want to make so many more memories with you,” Harry continued. 

“Harry! Join me in the water!” 

“Okay, that’s my cue.” He set the camera down. 

You bit your lower lip when you saw his face finally come into view. 

He took a deep breath, smiled softly, and then quietly said, “I think I always loved you, baby. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Harry!” 

“Okay, coming! Jeez, you’re so impatient,” he laughed, reaching up to turn the recording off. 

Then, the video ended. 

You gasped.

You could feel your heart beating out of your chest.

Harry recorded that before everything happened. Before you finding out about Adore. Before the awful things you said to him. 

He was sure about you. 

This trip had opened his eyes to the person that had always been there. 

He was looking for love in other places, when it was in front of him all along. 

It was you.

It had always been you.

taglist: @kellyxo1 @natdouble8 @maryfanson @pascalgold @jaxmom66 @chewie-bars @gothcsz @pascal-mynightlyobsession @sunnytuliptime @ultimatewolverine @notyourlovemonkey @myotakureprieve @nutbutterjellie @burninglovedreamsdepp @isabellaboo2025 @johnssherlock221 @missadangel @longlivekingminnn @vickie5446 @joelmillerpascal @the-curator01 @ivoryandflame @canonisoptional @armandispunk @lilacs97 @sincerelywithheartt @lizzie-cakes @woodxtock @goonersquad101 @callmebyyournick-name @kakiki3 @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @taniamiller @burningnerdchild @dotyoureyez

[pedroscurls]

blurred lines (pt. 6)

summary: it's day five on the island... and it's becoming more difficult to pretend for his family. luckily, you only have two days left before you both head back to new york.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, angst, cursing, abuse of alcohol (both harry and reader using it to distract themselves from what's going on), jealousy (on purpose), both reader and harry are poor communicators, smut - drunk/angry sex, unprotected piv, accidental creampie, dirty talk, light choking, no use of y/n. word count: 6.8k a/n: posting this one early y'all bc i won't have time tomorrow, but... hope y'all enjoy because we got two more chapters left and nothing seems to be resolved yet... stay tuned <3 pt. 5 - pt 7. || series masterlist. || read on AO3.

You and Harry ignored each other all day yesterday. You stayed in the bedroom and he stayed in the living area. It was only when you stepped out onto the deck did he retrieve a pillow and his luggage to keep outside with him. He should’ve felt relieved to have canceled Adore, and he was excited to tell you, but some part of him—the stubborn part—refused to give in. 

Because you said you were done. 

That all of this would be over once you both went back home. 

And he thought that you’d be okay the next day. He thought that you’d come up to him, tell him that everything that happened yesterday was just a mistake, that you didn’t mean anything you said. 

But you didn’t. 

You kept to yourself. 

Didn’t even spare him a glance when you’d pass him. 

It was like he didn’t even exist. 

Harry knew that today was going to be difficult. You’d both have to continue pretending like yesterday didn’t happen or else his parents, and his family, would catch on. He couldn’t use the same excuse that you weren’t feeling well to get out of today’s activities—he knew his mother would be over to the villa if he ever said that. 

So, he followed your lead. When he saw you come out of the bedroom, Harry stopped and stared. You were dressed casually this time, but still, you managed to take his breath away. You were in a pair of olive green linen pants and a white fitted tank top with an oversized white button up shirt. 

“Hey—”

“Bathroom’s all yours,” you interrupted. “I’m going for a walk. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea to go separately.” 

You didn’t look at him. 

And that hurt Harry more. 

“I’ll come up with something,” you answered. “See you later.” 

“Wait,” he sighed. Harry reached for your hand, but you pulled it away immediately when you felt his touch. “We need to talk—”

“There is nothing to talk about,” you interrupted once more. “Let’s just get the next couple of days over with.” 

Harry nodded. “Fine.” 

Then, he watched you leave with a quiet shut of the front door. Harry sighed, glancing over at the kitchen and noticing the same Polaroid pictures you both had taken a couple of days ago. He sighed, wishing that he could just go back to that time. 

Go back to what it was before yesterday. 

Harry turned on his heel and walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. When he stepped foot into the bathroom, he was immediately hit with the scent of your perfume mixing in with the shampoo, conditioner and body wash you used. 

Sighing, Harry turned the water on. As he shut his eyes, all he could see was the hurt and pain on your features during the fight yesterday.

You were walking towards the main building of the resort when you spotted Peter. Sighing to yourself, you tried to look the other way, but he was already jogging in your direction. 

“Hey,” he smiled. “Where’s Harry?” 

You looked up at him and forced a smile. Luckily, your eyes were guarded and covered by your sunglasses. “Oh, he’s getting ready. I wanted to go for a walk before lunch.”

“Mind if I join you?”

You bit your lower lip. “Sure.” 

“Cool, thanks.” Peter smiled, pocketing his hands. “We missed you guys yesterday.” 

“Oh,” you laughed nervously. “Those mimosas were… a lot.” 

“Yeah,” Peter chuckled. “Charlotte told me you just kept ordering more and more.” 

“They were good,” you reasoned. 

Peter looked at you. He didn’t know how to approach the subject, especially considering that what Charlotte told him yesterday wasn’t believable. Harry wasn’t the type of person to be in an open relationship—he’d always wanted to settle down, to find love and now that he had it, Peter didn’t believe for one second that Harry would want more. 

“About yesterday…” Peter began. 

“What about it?” 

“Charlotte told me that you and Harry… you’re in an open relationship?”

You clenched your jaw. Felt your heart break yet again. “We are.” 

Peter nodded slowly. “Really?” 

“Yes.” 

“It’s just—I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like something he’d do.”

You looked up at him. “It works for us,” you said again. You knew you had to say the same things you told Charlotte yesterday or else Peter would catch on and realize everything you said yesterday was a lie. “He gets to do his own thing and I get to do mine.” 

“But you’re still together?” 

“Exactly.” 

“How does that even work? Harry doesn’t seem like the type who likes to share…” 

You shrugged. “You’d be surprised,” you lied. 

“And his membership with Adore? That’s something you’re okay with?” Peter asked. 

“It works for us,” you repeated. 

“Right. I’m just surprised. Yesterday, he told me he didn’t have a membership with Adore and then Charlotte comes back from brunch to tell me that you know that he does.” 

You cleared your throat. Here you were, cleaning up Harry’s fucking mess. “Maybe he didn’t want to tell you that we have an open relationship?” 

Peter’s brow furrowed. In a fleeting moment, he resembled Harry so clearly. You bit your lower lip and stopped walking, glancing over at Peter. 

“Could we… not bring this up to his parents? I doubt they’d be open to something like that,” you asked. 

Peter nodded. “Oh, right. Yes, of course.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Do you—are you happy?” Peter asked. “With my brother, I mean.” 

You forced a smile again. “Yes, Peter, I am.” 

The other man sighed in relief. “Okay, good. Charlotte and I were worried. I mean, my brother is many things, but a cheater isn’t one of them.” 

You nodded and your hand that was gripping the strap of your bag tightened its grip. You blinked back the unshed tears before you heard Harry’s voice in the distance. You turned to look at him approaching both you and Peter. 

“I’m gonna use the bathroom and then I’ll see you both inside. I’m guessing Charlotte’s already there?” 

“Yeah,” Peter answered. “She is.” 

“Great. Thanks for joining me on my walk,” you said, turning on your heel to walk into the main building and away from Peter. 

Away from Harry. 

“Harry, hey,” Peter said, waving. 

“Hey.” 

“You look like shit,” he chuckled. 

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes. “What did you both talk about?” 

“What?” Peter furrowed a brow. “Oh, nothing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Then, Peter led Harry away from the building. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“What?” 

“Yesterday, when I asked you about Adore, you were lying to me.” 

Harry’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t mean to,” he answered. 

Peter sighed. “Are you really okay with being in an open relationship?” 

He caught a glimpse of you walking towards his parents. Harry turned to watch you from the large window, biting the inside of his cheek. He could tell you were masking the hurt and pain—your smile looked forced and he knew that you had been crying last night. 

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “It works for us.” 

Peter furrowed a brow. “Really? Because I always thought you weren’t the type to share.” 

“I’m not,” Harry said immediately. “But with her, it’s fine…” 

Peter crossed his arms over his chest. Then, he leaned a bit forward into his older brother’s space. “Did she want the open relationship and therefore, you just went along with it?” 

Harry took a step back. “Stop,” he said. “Stop digging. Stop trying to figure shit out, Peter. It’s my relationship and what works for us might not work for other people, but just… just fucking stop.” 

Peter immediately backed off. He raised his arms as a sign of surrender and nodded. “Okay, okay. I didn’t think you’d react like this.” 

“Like what? Do you see me trying to question everything about your relationship with Charlotte?” 

“Well, no—”

“Exactly. So, stay the fuck out of mine.” Harry blurted out. He didn’t mean to lash out on Peter—everything just felt like it was closing in on him. 

“Peter, Harry!” Charlotte yelled from the main doors of the building, waving them both to come inside. 

Peter stared at Harry. 

He did the same. 

“You’re sure—”

“Leave it alone,” Harry interjected. 

Then, he turned on his heel and began walking towards the doors, towards Charlotte. 

You were at the other end of the table, drink in hand, and laughing at what Carlos was saying. Harry noticed how his cousin was inching closer to you, his jaw clenching at how unbothered you look. Considering Carlos called you a rebound last night, Harry didn’t think you’d actually give him another chance to talk to you. 

He was about to walk towards you when his mother came in and wrapped her arm around his. 

“Harry,” she said with a smile. “She’s looking better.” 

Harry cleared his throat. “Yeah, sorry we had to miss yesterday.” 

“That’s okay,” she replied. “Charlotte said they had some fun at brunch. It’s nice—seeing her get along so well with the family.” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah.” 

“You know,” his mother smiled, gently patting his arm. “She is family. She always has been, and you—you’re different around her, you know?” 

He nodded. He couldn’t respond because all he could think about was the argument you two had yesterday. And a part of him hated the fact that he was lying to his mother, to his family about the true nature of his relationship with you. 

“And you’re happy?” 

Harry looked down at his mother for a moment and then moved his gaze back to you. He stared at you, watching the way you tilted your head back to laugh. Your hand reached out to touch Carlos’s arm and for a second, he stepped forward before taking a deep breath. 

“I am, ma,” he answered. “Very happy,” he lied. 

“Good,” his mother smiled. “And don’t get jealous. Carlos—he’s no match to you. He’s a good man, but she’s only got eyes for you.” 

“I know,” Harry muttered. “I’m not worried about it.” 

“You’re staring, honey,” his mother replied. 

“I just want to make sure he doesn’t take advantage of her,” he said. 

“Oh, come on,” his mother answered, turning to face him now. “We both know she can handle her own.” 

“I know that.” 

Then, his mother noticed the slight flicker that flashed in his eyes. Anger, sadness, regret. “What’s going on, Harry?” 

“What? Nothing,” he answered. 

“It look like there’s something bothering you.” 

“It’s nothing,” he said. “I just didn’t get much sleep.” 

His mother’s brow furrowed. “Did you two get into an argument?” 

“What?” Harry asked. “No, we’re fine.” 

“Hm.” 

He sighed and removed his arm from his mother’s grasp. “I’m fine. We’re fine. I’m gonna get a drink,” he said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Don’t worry about me.” 

Then, Harry walked away from her and stepped up to the bar. He ordered a shot of tequila and glanced over his shoulder. You had moved away from Carlos to walk down the hallway where he assumed the bathrooms were. 

Sighing, he thanked the bartender and downed the shot in one gulp. Then, Harry straightened up and followed in your direction. 

The sounds of his family’s laughter and chatter grew distant as he followed you down the hallway. Harry kicked his foot out just before the door shut behind him and he stepped inside and locked it. 

You looked up at him. Harry didn’t see any hint of emotion on your face. 

And that hurt just as much. 

“Can you just give me some space, Harry?” 

“I gave it to you. All day yesterday. Last night. This morning.”

“Yeah, and I need more of it,” you argued. 

Harry sighed. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? Is that what you want to hear?” 

“Saying sorry doesn’t mean anything,” you answered. “What’s done is done. That’s it.” 

He brought a hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t… I don’t like this. I don’t like how distant you’re becoming.” 

“Me?” You scoffed. “We’re nothing to each other,” you said. “Stop acting like we are.” 

He took a step closer to you. 

The words lingered at the tip of his tongue. He wanted to tell you how he felt about—how he truly felt—but the look of disgust and hatred in your eyes stopped him. 

Because you meant it. 

You meant every word. 

This was done. 

You were done with him. 

“I—I don’t know how to fix this,” he muttered.

“There’s nothing to fix.” 

Harry sighed. 

“You said yesterday that I broke a rule… seems to me like you did too.”

His jaw clenched. “I just don’t like this. I don’t know how—how to act around you when it’s like this.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes, we have to do shit we don’t want to do.”

“What does that mean?” 

You sighed. “Nothing.”

“No, what does that mean?” Harry asked.

You looked at yourself in the mirror before turning to face him. 

“You agreed to this,” he whispered. “You said it was okay.” 

“It was a fucking mistake.”

He inhaled sharply. 

You brushed past him and bit your lower lip at just how close he was. 

Harry turned and gripped your arm.

“Let go,” you muttered.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly, loosening his grip around your arm but not quite letting you go. 

“You didn’t.”

“You’re lying.”

You looked up at him and put a hand to his chest, staring deeply into his eyes. “What if I said you did, hm? Then, what?” 

Harry kept his hand around your arm. He stepped closer and dipped his head lower until his face was inches from your own. “Then I’d spend the rest of this trip making it up to you.”

“And after?”

He cleared his throat. “And after… we go home.” 

You nodded, blinking back your tears though they trickled down your cheeks. With a deep breath, you pulled your arm from his gasp and straightened up. “I’m going to go back out there. We have a role to play.” 

“Baby—”

“But when we are back at our villa, you stay in your space and I’ll stay in mine.” 

He was about to respond before he heard a knock at the door. You looked up at him and blinked back the tears, bringing your hands up to wipe them from your cheeks before you took a couple of more breaths. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Charlotte giggled from outside the door. “Lunch is about to be served.” 

“We’ll be out in a second, Charlotte,” Harry called out. 

He kept his eyes on you and heard the sounds of Charlotte’s heels click against the floor, becoming more distant as she walked away from the door. 

“Can we just—can we talk when we get back to our villa?” 

“No,” you answered, unlocking the door and stepping out of the bathroom. 

Harry watched you walk away, sighing quietly to himself as he let the door shut, slamming his hand against the wall angrily. 

He was seated next to you at the table, sitting across from his parents and Charlotte and Peter. Harry had his arm draped over the back of your chair, but you hadn’t scooted closer like you had before. Instead, you kept your distance. You still made conversation, still laughed and acted like nothing was wrong, but he was finding it difficult to pretend. 

“So,” Harry’s mother grinned. “Will you be moving in with Harry?” 

You looked across the table and smiled. “I think that might be too soon.”

Harry stiffened next to you. His mind drifted and he hadn’t realized that they were all now looking at him, expecting him to chime in the conversation.

“What?” He asked.

Then, you put a hand on his leg. It shouldn’t have calmed him down as it did, but feeling your touch managed to ground him. He looked down at you, but you weren’t looking at him. 

“Your mom was asking if I’m moving in,” you laughed. “I think it’s too soon.”

“Oh,” Harry answered. “Yeah. We don’t want to rush things.”

“Really?” His mother asked. 

Harry felt you move your hand away. He sighed under his breath and reached for his drink, taking a sip of the clear liquid and feeling it burn the back of his throat. “Yeah, ma.” 

“Besides,” you added. “I like my space.” 

“Amongst other things,” Charlotte giggled, winking over at you.

You forced a smile.

His mother furrowed a brow in confusion.

Harry clenched his jaw.

Peter cleared his throat. 

“What does that mean?” His mother asked.

Peter shook his head and gently leaned over to whisper into Charlotte’s ear. 

You kept your gaze on her for a moment before turning to look at Harry’s parents. “Nothing,” you smiled. “Our relationship… it’s different and it works for us,” you lied. “But moving in… I think that’s still too soon.”

Harry spaced out again. He wasn’t paying attention. 

His mother started noticing. 

His father did too. 

“Trouble in paradise, son?” His father blurted out. “Let me give you some advice… she’s always right,” he laughed.

His mother rolled her eyes. “Are you two okay?” 

“We’re fine,” Harry answered. “We just—we both didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Oh, so no trouble at all then,” his father winked. 

Your cheeks flushed. You looked over at Harry and then sighed, leaning up to kiss his cheek lightly. He looked down at you, surprised. “Want some fresh air, baby?” 

“Y—Yeah,” Harry answered. “Fresh air sounds nice.” 

His mother nodded slowly. “Okay, go take a walk. We’ll be here.” 

You stood from the table and smiled. “Thank you. We won’t be long.” 

Harry followed your lead, walking away from the table and towards the main doors of the building. 

Peter sighed, glancing over at Charlotte before he felt his mother’s gaze on him.

“What?”

“What’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothing,” Peter answered.

“You’re lying.”

“Mom…”

“What happened?” 

Peter sighed. “They’re okay, just—just leave it alone.”

“Will you talk with him?” She asked. “Make sure he’s okay.”

“I will,” he nodded. “Just—just let them get some air. We’re here to celebrate you and dad, so just don’t think about it.”

His mother sighed. She always did have a soft spot for Harry—her first born. “Okay, honey.” 

Peter leaned over and kissed her temple. “He’s okay, trust me.” 

“Wait up—” Harry jogged over to you, trying to catch up. “Hey—”

“You need to focus,” you interrupted, turning around to look up at him. The building was quite a bit of distance now. “I’m trying my hardest to—to pretend that everything’s okay, but I can’t do that and make sure that you’re playing your part.”

He sighed. “I’m distracted.”

“You wanted this,” you said. “You wanted to lie to them. You asked me to be part of it. So… pull yourself together. We have two more days of this.” 

Harry nodded. He reached out for you, but you took a step back. 

“Please,” you whispered, voice shaky. “I just want to get the next two days over with. So, please…” 

“I can’t,” Harry muttered. “I can’t live like this for the next two days. I can’t—I can’t sit next to you and act like everything’s okay.” 

“Everything isn’t okay!” You exclaimed, staring up at him with tear-filled eyes. “It won’t ever be okay, Harry.” 

“Do you really mean that?” He asked, biting his lower lip. “Do you really think that you can go back to New York and just forget all of this? Forget about me?”

“Yes,” you lied.

He sighed. 

Then, Harry nodded. 

“Fine.” 

“Good.”

He ran a hand over his face. 

“If that’s what you really want—”

“It is,” you lied again. 

Later that day, his mother wanted to spend the rest of the afternoon with the women of the party, which was more than okay with his father. You were exhausted—it was one thing to fake a relationship, but to pretend like you weren’t hurting was another thing. You thought that with Harry no longer by your side for the rest of the afternoon would help, but truth was… you missed him. 

And you had begun pushing him away because finding out that he had a membership with Adore made you realize that whatever was happening this week wasn’t real. He didn’t feel the same as you did because if he did, he would’ve canceled his membership as soon as those feelings started developing. 

It also didn’t help that Charlotte kept asking you questions that just made the pain more noticeable. You wanted to tell her to stop, to quit asking you questions that pushed the limit, but you couldn’t. 

So to get your mind off what truly bothered you, you kept drinking. It numbed the pain and managed to fog your thoughts from Harry, from the hurt you felt. 

You were already on your third cocktail when his mother stepped up to you, leaning against the counter of the bar with a small smile.

“Hey you,” she said.

You grinned in her direction. “Hi.”

“You’re on your third drink,” she pointed out.

“Their cocktails are really good,” you giggled, grabbing your glass and clinking hers softly. “Are you having fun?”

“I am. Are you?” 

You nodded, taking a long swig of your drink. “Mhm.”

“Honey, are you—are you alright?”

“Of course,” you smiled drunkenly. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m here. I’m with you. I’m with Harry.” 

She sighed. “Something seemed… off between the two of you today. Did you guys—”

“Oh, just a little argument,” you interrupted, waving a hand in the air. “It’s nothing.”

“Right,” she said. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You sighed loudly. “He doesn’t like talking about his feelings, does he? I mean, I shouldn’t complain. I’m the same way.” 

His mother tilted her head. “You haven’t told him you loved him.”

“I don’t,” you blurted out. You had no idea what you were saying. 

She laughed. “I don’t believe that.” 

“He’s just so—” You sighed, shaking your head. “When did you know that you loved your husband?”

“When I realized that I wanted to share all of my moments with him—big and small,” she smiled. “And when I knew that he would choose to stay even when things got tough.”

You nodded, downing the rest of your drink before you raised your hand for the bartender to refill your glass. “I don’t think Harry’s the type of person to stay,” you confessed. “I think he’d—he’d choose the easy way out every single time.”

His mother nodded. “You might be right,” she agreed. “But that’s everyone, isn’t it? Until you find the person that you’re willing to stay for.” 

“And I don’t think that’s me,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. 

“Oh honey,” his mother pulled you into his arms and reached up to wipe your tears. “My son is in love with you.”

You shook your head. “He’s not.”

“He is.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“That’s okay,” she laughed quietly. “Because I don’t think he knows it either.”

You inhaled shakily. “He’s right, you know? I don’t think I know what love is.”

“I think you do.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Honey,” she said softly. “You wouldn’t react this way if you didn’t love him too.” 

Harry was seated in the living area with a bottle of tequila on the coffee table when Peter walked inside. He looked around and noticed his older brother seated on the couch, drinking straight from the bottle as he leaned back.

“What are you doing?” Peter asked.

Harry glanced over at him. “Hello to you too. Don’t you knock?”

He rolled his eyes. “Did you sleep out here last night?” 

“What does it look like?”

Peter sighed and snatched the bottle from his grasp. “What the hell is going on?” 

“Nothing.”

“You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry looked at him, eyes dazed. Then, he let out a loud chuckle. “You don’t know anything.”

“Then help me understand.”

“I wish your wife didn’t butt into my relationship.” 

“She didn’t.”

“No?” Harry asked, standing from the sofa and snatching the bottle back. “She didn’t have to say shit, but instead, she chose to.”

“She thought you were cheating.”

“Even if I was, it’s not any of her business!” 

Peter sighed. “You’re not in an open relationship, aren’t you?”

Harry took another swig from the bottle. He set it back down onto the coffee table and looked up at his brother, eyes narrowed. “What the fuck do you think?”

“Then, you were cheating?”

“No,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t ever.” 

“Then, what’s going on? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

Harry shook his head and slumped back against the couch. “I did have an Adore membership.”

“Okay, you did… meaning you don’t have it anymore?”

“I canceled it yesterday.” Harry sighed. 

Peter furrowed a brow. “Why would you have a membership if you’re in a relationship?”

“Because I’m not.” 

“You’re not what?”

“In a relationship,” Harry confessed.

Carlos had his arm wrapped around your waist with your arm draped over his shoulders as he led you back to the villa. You had stayed at the bar while everyone else left and when he showed up, he knew that he had to get you back to Harry. Sure, he liked to rile the other man up, but Carlos actually looked up to Harry. 

When the door opened, Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of you before his gaze turned to Carlos. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Harry mumbled.

“Nothing. I—I saw her at the bar and she was drunk. I figured I’d bring her back and—”

Harry’s jaw tightened and he gently took you from the other man’s grasp, feeling you lean against him. “I got it.”

“I’m sorry. About what I said the other night,” Carlos said. 

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered. “Thanks, Carlos.” Harry shut the door before he gently brought you to the living area, seating you carefully on the couch. He was also drunk, but the sight of you with Carlos had sobered him up just a bit.

“Harry—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he mumbled. Then, Harry walked away from you to grab you a glass of water. When he made his way back to the living area though, you had your lips wrapped around the bottle of tequila before you took a long swig of it. 

“Stop,” Harry said, taking the bottle from you. “Stop.”

“Leave me alone.”

He sighed and set the glass of water down roughly on the coffee table. “Why were you with Carlos?”

You giggled. “He was sweet. Saw me at the bar and—and said he was gonna bring me back here.”

“He was sweet?” Harry asked. His eyes gaze darkened. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Would you rather I stay at the bar?” You asked, staring up at him.

“I’d rather you stayed here. With me.”

You laughed.

Harry’s jaw clenched. 

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out.

“And seems like you are too.”

“I’m thinking more clearly than you.”

“Are you?” You asked, standing from the sofa and walking over to him. You moved a hand to his chest and noticed the way your gaze flicked to his lips. 

“You’re drunk,” he repeated, taking your hands from his chest. 

“Your mother thinks you’re in love with me,” you grinned. 

Harry’s straightened up. “What?”

“I also told her that you’re not the type of person to stay when shit gets hard,” you answered. “You take the easy way out every chance you get.” 

“Why are you talking to my mother about me?”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” You asked, staring up at him and tilting your head to the side. 

“It isn’t.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, removing your oversized shirt until you were clad in your tank top and linen pants. “If we’re in an open relationship, you think I have a chance with Carlos?”

“Stop.”

“What? You can plan your dates and everything once we get back to New York, but I can’t?” 

“Carlos is family.”

“Sure.”

Harry stepped closer to you. “And I thought I told you that I don’t like other people touching what’s mine.”

You stepped up to him. Sized him up. “I’m not yours.”

“Yes, you are,” Harry said, one hand moving out to grip your hip roughly. “Just as I am yours.” 

“That’s funny. You’re funny.”

He growled lowly and gently shoved you back against the couch. You looked up at him, eyes wide and dark now. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” Harry asked, pulling the ends of his shirt over his head and tossing it over his shoulder. He settled himself between your legs and moved his hands along your sides. “You’ve always been mine.”

You gasped. Then, you pulled him down for a heated kiss. It was rough. It was messy. But it was fueled by something else—something that neither of you had spoken about or even addressed but knew that it had lingered. 

He moved his hands underneath your tank top, slowly lifting it until he pulled away. He stared down at you and tugged the tank top over your head before he reached behind you to undo your bra. Now fully exposed, Harry leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, flicking his tongue against it. 

Your hand moved to his hair, gripping it tightly before you reached down to the waistband of his shorts. Harry swirled his tongue around you, smirking up at you before he moved to your other breast, his free hand pushing his shorts and boxers down his legs. 

“H—Harry…” you whimpered, eyes falling shut. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, pulling away from you. “Say my fucking name.” Then, Harry tugged your linen pants down your legs, bringing your panties down with it. 

Once you were both completely naked and bare for each other, Harry gripped your hips roughly and tugged you to the edge of the couch. He leaned over you, nose brushing with your own as he stared deeply into your eyes. 

“You’re mine,” he growled. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, feeling the head of his manhood brush against your sex. “Please, Harry…”

“Please what?”

“God, just fuck me already!” 

He chuckled and slowly slid into you. A deep, guttural moan escaped him at the feel of your walls sliding along his length. You were already wet and suddenly, Harry slammed into you all the way. Your body jerked upwards at the rough thrust, a loud moan escaping your lips. 

“That what you wanted?” Harry asked, moving a hand to hover at your throat. “Huh, baby?” 

You nodded, staring up at him as you wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. Harry slowly applied just a bit of pressure around your throat, lowering himself until his lips brushed your cheek lightly. 

“You have no fucking idea,” he groaned, slamming into you once more. “How much you mean to me.” 

Your eyes fluttered and your hand moved to wrap around his wrist, urging him to apply more pressure around your throat. 

Harry’s expression shifted to brief concern. He applied more pressure around your throat, causing your mouth to part before a small smile lined your lips. He relaxed and slowly pulled out to his tip only to push inside of you. He continued the rough thrusts, watching your face contort into pleasure as he slammed into you repeatedly. 

You stared up at him, tears brimming your eyes as you locked your ankles together at his lower back. You knew this wasn’t going to solve everything, that having sex with him especially when you were both drunk wasn’t going to fix anything. 

But you kept thinking about what his mother said earlier. 

Harry was in love with you. 

And you were in love with him too. 

Harry loosened his grip around your throat when he noticed your tears, hearing you inhale sharply as he continued to thrust into you without any sign of stopping. 

“Harry,” you moaned. Your hands moved to his chest and around his shoulders to link your hands together at the base of his neck. Pulling him down on top of you until his body pressed against yours, you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his. 

“M’right here,” he mumbled, one hand gripping your hip as the other moved to rest on the back of the couch. Harry shut his eyes, reveling in the way your body felt against his and the way your lips moved with his own. 

Tears trickled at the corner of your eyes as you kissed him. Part of you felt like this was goodbye, like this was the last time you both would ever be this close again, and it shouldn’t have had this much of an impact on you if you didn’t love him. 

And the sudden realization that maybe you did caused you to pull back from the kiss only to bury your face against the side of his neck. 

He sighed breathlessly, rolling his hips into you. This felt different to him too. It was crossing a boundary, a line that neither of you ever thought to cross. 

But it felt right. 

With you, it always did. 

He knew you were close too. Could feel it in the way your body trembled, could hear it in your voice as you continued to moan his name. 

And all of a sudden, he couldn’t control himself. Harry held you close to him as he continued to hammer into you, feeling his own release fast approaching. 

“You mean—fuck—you mean so much to me too,” you mumbled out, arms wrapping around him now. Your body reacted instantly to the way he felt, every inch of him dragging along your walls. 

That was all it took. Harry slammed into you once more, shooting his warm release into you. He dropped his forehead to your shoulder, gasping loudly at the way you felt around him. He pulled back just a bit only to push back into you, groaning as your tight walls milked every last drop of him. 

Another rule fucking broken. 

Slowly, Harry leaned up to look down at you. He reached up and ran the pad of his thumb across the corner of your eye, wiping your tears away carefully. 

“Harry—”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, pulling out of you and watching his come seep out of you. Harry cleared his throat—something had overcome him at the sight of his release. 

He shook his head to himself, standing upright and walking to the kitchen to grab some towels. When he walked back to where you were lying, he was careful in cleaning you up, biting his lower lip as the tension lingered in the air. 

“We shouldn’t have done that,” you said first. 

Harry sighed. “I know.” 

You looked down at him and stood upright, grabbing the towels from him. 

“Baby…” he whispered. 

“Good night, Harry.” 

He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Please… just stay. Just for tonight, then—then tomorrow you can go back to hating me.” 

You looked up at him and pulled on your oversized button up to cover yourself up. Harry did the same, pulling on his boxers as he looked down at you. 

“If you think I hate you, Harry, you haven’t been paying attention.” 

Then, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway and into the bedroom. 

Once Harry heard the door shut, he felt his chest tighten. 

And once you were away from him, you started crying. 

Peter grabbed Charlotte’s phone and went through her contacts, hovering over Lucy’s number. “Peter?” 

“You need to stop meddling,” he said. “And you need to stop involving Lucy in my brother’s life. She made her choice and it wasn’t him.” 

Charlotte furrowed a brow. “I didn’t mean to do anything.” 

“I know you didn’t, but—but it has to stop.” 

“Did something happen?” 

Peter shook his head. “No, it’s just—whatever goes on in their relationship is their business.” 

“I know that,” she sighed. 

“Then, we need to stop trying to figure things out.” 

Charlotte sat on the bed and nodded. “Okay,” she agreed. “Okay.” 

“I’m deleting Lucy’s number,” he said. “Okay?” 

Charlotte nodded. “That’s fine.” 

“Listen—” Peter sighed and walked over to Charlotte, gently sitting down next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’m grateful for Lucy, grateful for Adore because it led me to you, but—but she’s not your friend.” 

Charlotte sighed. 

“Baby, I mean it. We paid her for her services. Yes, she can know about our life, but that doesn’t extend to Harry.” 

She looked up at him. “Did I make things worse?” 

Peter shook his head. “No… I just don’t want Lucy knowing what’s going on with him. She doesn’t need to know.” 

“She asked…” Charlotte admitted. “She asked and I told her. I’m so sorry.” 

Peter sighed and pulled her close to his side. “It’s not your fault,” he said quietly, kissing the crown of her head. “Everything will be okay… I promise.”

After Charlotte had gone to bed and Peter blocked and deleted Lucy’s number from her phone, he couldn’t sleep. Before removing her contact from Charlotte’s phone, he had entered Lucy’s number into his. 

Harry had always looked out for him, made sure that he was taken care of, and now it was his turn. Peter dialed Lucy’s number and stepped into the kitchen, jaw clenching at the sound of it ringing on the other end. 

It rang a few more times before Lucy picked up. 

“Hello?”

“Lucy, it’s Peter.” 

“Peter? Hi,” she answered. “Everything okay?” 

“You need to stay out of Harry’s life.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

“Asking about him? Wondering what he’s doing? It needs to stop,” Peter warned. “You don’t deserve to know anything about his life. You made your choice.” 

Lucy sighed. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I don’t care if you did or didn’t mean to, just leave him alone. Stop asking about him and stop contacting Charlotte.” 

“Peter, I’m sorry—”

“I don’t want an apology. I want to hear you say that you understand and that you agree to leaving Harry alone.” 

She sighed again. “Okay,” she said. “I understand and I agree.” 

“Good.” 

“Is that why he canceled his membership? Because it’s a conflict of interest?” 

Peter scoffed. “He canceled his membership because he’s already in love with someone else. Now, if I hear you try to contact my wife or ask about Harry or my family again, I’m getting my lawyers involved.” 

“Right, of course. Understood,” Lucy mumbled into the phone. 

“Great. Goodbye,” Peter hung up the phone and then blocked her number. 

In the middle of the night, Harry heard the sounds of your feet against the tiled floor. You were trying to stay quiet but you weren’t doing a great job at it. 

He thought you might be going to the kitchen, but he was surprised when he saw you turn the lamp on to illuminate the living area. 

Harry sat up from the couch and looked up at you. You were dressed in one of his shirts and nothing else, but before he could even take in your frame, he noticed your red-rimmed eyes immediately. 

You had been crying. 

“Baby?” Harry asked, standing up from the couch. 

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face against his chest. 

He inhaled sharply and immediately wrapped his own arms around you, eyes falling shut as he felt your tears against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

“My mind hasn’t changed,” you said, sniffling quietly. “But for tonight, I just—I just want everything back to normal.” 

He nodded. “Okay,” he replied softly. “We can do that.” Then, Harry scooped you into his arms and carried you down the hallway and into the bedroom. He set you down carefully and watched you get beneath the sheets and blanket, turning on your side until your back faced him. 

He bit his lower lip and climbed into bed, moving closer to you until Harry was spooning you from behind. One arm draped over you and he felt your arm rest over his, pulling him closer gently. He leaned forward until his cheek was resting against the side of your neck, turning his head just slightly to press a light kiss behind the shell of your ear. 

You inhaled shakily and moved your hand to rest over his own, lacing your fingers over his. 

“Good night, baby,” he whispered. 

You nodded. You didn’t say anything, afraid that if you did, you’d tell him to get out. So instead, you reveled in the comfort that he provided and felt yourself finally relax. 

Tomorrow would be another day. You’d deal with the consequences then. 

But right now, all you wanted was to just be in his arms like this. 

taglist: @kellyxo1 @natdouble8 @maryfanson @pascalgold @jaxmom66 @chewie-bars @gothcsz @pascal-mynightlyobsession @sunnytuliptime @ultimatewolverine @notyourlovemonkey @myotakureprieve @nutbutterjellie @burninglovedreamsdepp @isabellaboo2025 @johnssherlock221 @missadangel @longlivekingminnn @vickie5446 @joelmillerpascal @the-curator01 @ivoryandflame @canonisoptional @armandispunk @lilacs97 @sincerelywithheartt @lizzie-cakes @woodxtock @goonersquad101 @callmebyyournick-name @kakiki3 @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @taniamiller @burningnerdchild @dotyoureyez

[gothcsz]

Summer Affair: Part 2 | Harry Castillo x F!Reader/“You” | ~5k Word Count

SUMMARY: Harry joins you on the rest of your summer trip, and a week in Portugal shifts the romance in a very passionate direction.

RATING: E.

TAGS: No use of y/n, reader has the nickname (Sol) that is used sparingly, summer vibes, traveling rich people style, harry is flaunting his money in a hot way, infidelity (reader is married), smut, unprotected p in v because who wouldn’t want to take that man raw, somnophilia, dubcon if you squint, oral (m!receiving), titty fucking, pull out method *crowd boos*, if I forgot to tag anything else please let me know, more tags found on series masterlist.

A/N: oh to be whisked away into paradise by a handsome rich man who wants nothing more than to fund your happiness. i hope you all enjoy this chapter, hehehehe 🖤 reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

P.S. series masterlist. read on ao3. header credit to @/devociones.

Harry has extended his stay, which makes the rest of your time in Monte-Carlo wonderful. 

Your days are filled with his amazing company, and you take full advantage of all the amenities offered by the luxury resort.

At night you’re taking walks along the promenade where Harry buys you gelato and feeds you bites between kisses.

For the first time in years, his calendar bends to someone else’s whim—yours.

He watches you from across the table at the sprawling garden where you’re having brunch, the scent of blooming flowers and fresh pastries drifting on the breeze.

You laugh at something he said, head tilted back, sunlight catching the necklace resting against your collarbone.

“You and this whole staring thing. If you weren’t so attractive, it’d be kind of creepy,” you tease, popping a blackberry into your mouth. Your bare foot brushes his ankle under the table, innocent… and not.

He reaches across to wipe some of the powdered sugar from the french toast at the corner of your mouth, letting his thumb linger. “I keep thinking I’ll wake up back in my office, realizing this was all a daydream.”

Your eyes trace over his sincere expression. “Then let’s stay in the daydream a little longer, Harry.”

He’s never wanted anything more.

That evening at the renowned Casino de Monte-Carlo, you stand beside him at the roulette table in a silky slip of a dress, your shoulder brushing his arm every time you lean in to place a bet.

He teaches you the rhythm of baccarat, his hand covering yours on the cards, voice low against your ear.

“Feeling lucky?”

“Always.” Your smile is wicked, making him want to pull you into a shadowed alcove and kiss you breathless. So he does just that. 

You haven’t slept together, and somehow that makes every touch and shared glance feel so thrilling.

The wait is its own kind of foreplay.

He’s falling for you and it’s only been what, a couple of days? It’s ridiculous, he reminds himself of that any time he’s alone and you’re not there to distract him from being logical. 

You both have lives to get back to once this is all said and done, so all he can do is push whatever he’s feeling to the side and continue to enjoy the time he does have with you.

You do the same, keeping the real you tucked away along with the ever-growing sentiments he elicits.

This is an escape meant to be free any stress or drama. Nothing but beautiful views, amazing food, and this charming, generous man who looks at you like you painted the stars.

One lazy afternoon, Harry finds you by the resort pool again, film camera in hand as you snap photos of the landscape and architecture that surrounds you.

“Hello gorgeous,” he greets, leaning down to place a kiss at the crown of your head, dropping into the lounger beside yours.

His linen shirt is unbuttoned just enough to show a tempting glimpse of his broad, tanned chest. “I bought something. For us.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “For us? Okay, you’ve got my attention. What is it?”

He chuckles, that rich, warm sound you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “A yacht.” He says it so casually, like purchasing a luxury vessel on a whim is nothing. Your jaw drops.

“Harry… you can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious.” His brown eyes sparkle with mischief and affection. “What do you say? Come out with me this afternoon so you can see it. We can sail along the coast, swim, have lunch on deck…”

The idea is ridiculous. Extravagant. Perfect.

You bite your lip. He’s truly pulling out all the stops, which you don’t mind at all, but you hope that he knows he doesn’t have to flaunt his money like this just to impress you. 

Maybe you should express that to him later, when you’re not buzzing with excitement to actually be out on the water today, and very curious to see what the hell he just bought.

 “I’d love that.”

He loves the way your eyes light up when The Daydreamer comes into view at the marina—a beautiful pearl color with sleek navy lining, polished teak decks, the name painted in elegant golden script.

You practically bounce on your toes as you board, fingers trailing along the railings in awe.

“Harry… this is yours? For real? You just… bought it?” you stop short once you make it to the deck, jaw dropping in pure delight at the view it offers.

This thing must have cost him a fucking fortune.

“For us. For right now.” Seeing you like this makes every penny spent worth it.

“I can’t believe it. She’s absolutely beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he steps closer, hands settling lightly on your waist from behind as you both face the open sea.

“I’d be a fool not to.”

You’re so soft and warm pressed up against him, the breeze sending your perfume straight into his brain like the sweetest aphrodisiac. 

The sexual tension is slowly killing him. He could take you right here, nice and deep, your cries of pleasure swallowed by the sound of waves crashing into each other.

Instead he savors the lead up, not making any moves until you’re comfortable enough to take that next step. If it’s even something you want to do. 

Regardless, he’s content with having you any way in which you’ll let him.

After giving you a tour of the yacht and introducing you to the small crew that’s on board, you set sail.

The sea sparkles under the afternoon sun as you both change into swimwear. He’s taken aback every time he sees you, but when you’re in your pretty little bikinis—Harry has to blink away the lustful visions he has of fucking you while the fabric barely clings to your body.

This time is no different.

“My eyes are up here.”

“I’m not necessarily trying to look at your eyes right now.”

You can’t help but playfully roll your eyes, a flirty smile on your lips as you take his hand in yours and pull him up the stairs and onto the deck where the crew is finishing up anchoring where you’ll be swimming for the afternoon.

Harry watches you dive gracefully off the side, your laughter ringing out as you surface.

He follows, the cool water a shock against heated skin. When you swim to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, legs brushing his underwater, he feels something settle deep in his chest.

This is what he’s been missing. What he was fruitlessly looking for with Lucy. 

Back on deck after being in the beautiful ocean for a few hours, you towel off and slip into a light cover-up, the fabric clinging slightly to your still-damp skin.

Harry looks effortlessly handsome in his swim trunks and unbuttoned shirt, his curly hair tousled by the sea breeze.

The staff has set a beautiful table on the shaded aft deck: chilled prosecco, platters of fresh seafood and bowls of ripe summer fruits.

He feeds you a slice of orange, its juice dripping down his fingers. You catch his wrist gently and lick it clean, eyes trained on him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here.”

You smile, slow and knowing. “I know.”

As the sun dips lower, painting the horizon in golds and pinks, he feels the words rising—stay with me longer, let me follow you to the next city.

Harry pours more wine into your glass. “So, tell me more about the rest of your trip,” he leans back, looking at you with that warm, attentive gaze that makes your stomach flutter. “Where are you headed after Monaco? What’s the grand plan?”

You take a sip of the crisp beverage, savoring the way it fizzes on your tongue.

“It’s pretty loose,” you admit with a soft laugh, spearing a prawn with your fork. “I’m thinking Portugal next—Lagos, specifically. Those dramatic cliffs and hidden beaches are too beautiful to not experience. Then Ibiza to see if clubbing there is as fun as everyone claims it is.”

His brows raise at that. Harry can already picture you drunk and in a beautiful dress, dancing the night away under colorful strobe lights.

“Sicily for its rich history, and Mykonos to end on something… dreamy. There’s no strict itinerary. Just… chasing the sun, collecting experiences along the way… figuring out what I really want.”

Harry listens intently, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches how charmingly expressive you are.

It stirs something protective and eager in his chest. These past days with you have been a revelation—a lightness he hasn’t felt in years.

He doesn’t want this to end when the weekend does.

“That sounds incredible,” he drains the last of his prosecco as the words from earlier dance on the tip of his tongue again. 

Harry takes your hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“I like you. A lot. More than I probably should after such a short time.” He chuckles softly, a touch self-deprecating, but his brown eyes hold yours steadily. “I’d love nothing more than to fund the summer trip of your dreams. Flights, hotels, excursions—whatever you need. Regardless if I join you or not. It doesn’t matter to me. No complicated nonsense. I just… I want to make sure you get every bit of joy you’re chasing.”

Your heart skips at his words, warmth blooming across your chest that has nothing to do with the setting sun.

He’s offering the world so casually, like it’s the most natural thing.

Part of you—the careful, guarded part still tangled in a failed marriage back in Texas—knows the risk that comes from this.

But the other part? The one that’s been starved for spontaneity, for real connection, for him… that part wants so much more. 

No expectations except for a good time. You are capable of enjoying the fantasy and slipping away when summer ends.

“Harry… that’s incredibly generous. More than I could ever ask for.” You squeeze his hand. “I don’t want you to think that you need to do all of this to keep me interested.”

“I like spending my money on you.”

Is it materialistic of you for the butterflies in your stomach to go into a frenzy?

This kind of chance—with a man like Harry, on yachts and private adventures—won’t come again.

“These last few days have been so perfect. I can’t imagine chasing the rest of this summer alone now. Not when you make it so much better.”

Relief and joy flood through him as you agree to his proposal.

He stands, pulling you up with him into a slow, deep kiss right there on the deck, the taste of orange citrus and wine lingering between your lips.

His arms wrap around you, holding you close.

“Then it’s settled,” he murmurs against your lips. “We’re doing this. Portugal, Spain, Italy, Greece—all of it. Together.”

The private jet touches down in Faro the following afternoon.

Harry’s hand rests warmly on your thigh the entire flight, his thumb tracing lazy circles that send little sparks dancing across your skin.

You’ve never traveled like this—the private jet is somehow just as ridiculously luxurious as the yacht.

A beautiful antique car waits on the tarmac when you arrive. The driver loads your bags while Harry helps you into the back seat, stealing a quick kiss once the door closes.

Your head rests on his shoulder as you ride to your destination, the scent of his cologne mixing with the salty breeze slipping through the cracked window.

The car winds down a lone coastal road, the rugged cliffs giving way to a hidden stretch of paradise. 

When you finally reach the private beach he’s secured for the stay, your breath catches.

It’s a secluded cove of soft golden sand curving gently into the sea, framed by dramatic ochre cliffs draped in wildflowers and fragrant pines. Waves lap lazily at the shore, the water so clear you can see the pebbles beneath.

A few discreet workers have set up shaded loungers and a cabana with expensive white linens. It feels like your own private slice of heaven—far from the bustling main beaches. 

The Daydreamer waits at the edge of the cove like an old friend, anchored in the gentle shallows, her white hull gleaming against the vivid blue.

You’ll be staying aboard her instead of in a hotel—sailing straight from Lagos to Ibiza at the end of the week. 

The private beach was worth every last minute arrangement. Harry made the plans the moment you agreed to let him join you, wanting to give you the kind of escape you deserved.

“Wow.”

“It really is a sight. Come on, let’s get you settled so we can lay out.”

You let him guide you, eyes unable to stay focused on anything as the beautiful scenery almost makes you emotional.

You can’t believe this is really happening.

Over the next few days, Harry enjoys watching you explore Lagos. The city’s narrow cobblestone streets and whitewashed buildings splashed with colorful azulejo tiles feel like the perfect backdrop for what is going on between you.

You wander hand-in-hand through bustling markets, stopping for fresh pastéis de nata and strong espresso, laughing as seagulls swoop overhead in an attempt to pick a bite of your snacks.

One afternoon, as you stroll a lively street lined with different businesses, Harry notices your lack of a smartphone.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask… you only use a little flip phone and those cameras. No laptop, no big phone. How do you manage?”

You smile, fidgeting with the strap of your camera. The warm air lifts your hair as you look up at him, his brown eyes curious.

“It’s my no-screen rule for the trip,” you explain. “I left everything else behind. Just this burner for emergencies and my cameras to document everything. I wanted to really be here, you know? Not staring at a screen the whole time.”

Harry’s expression softens with genuine admiration. “I respect that. Truly. I wish I could unplug like you. But I’m too involved in work for that.”

His words hit a little too close to home, reminding you of Joel—always working, always reachable, the job swallowing up evenings and weekends until there was nothing left for the two of you.

The comparison stings, but you brush it away quickly, refusing to let old shadows touch your golden afternoon.

“Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two from me,” you joke, tugging Harry toward a charming little gift shop with colorful displays spilling onto the street.

“Come on. I want to check this out,” you add brightly, pulling him inside. The shop smells of aged paper and spices. Shelves overflow with postcards, magnets, handmade jewelry, and local trinkets.

He follows you happily, charmed by your enthusiasm. Inside the shop, you pick up a delicate ceramic tile and turn it over in your hands. 

“I’m collecting stamps and little things like this from everywhere I visit,” you hold on to the tile, searching the shelves. “For a scrapbook I’m making. Something tangible to remember this summer by.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” he steps behind you, chin resting lightly on your shoulder. His arms wrap around your waist as he helps you look.

“I’ll keep an eye out. Whatever you want for your craft. I want you to have the perfect collection.”

You turn in his arms, eyes sparkling as you kiss him softly, right there between shelves of eccentric magnets and postcards. The shopkeeper smiles knowingly in the background.

“Thank you, Harry,” you whisper against his mouth. “For all of this. For seeing what this trip means to me.”

He doesn’t reply with words, instead he kisses you again, slower, deeper, the kind of kiss that promises more once you’re back on the yacht’s private deck under the stars. 

As you leave the shop with a small bag of treasures and Harry’s arm draped around your shoulders, you let yourself sink fully into the blissfulness of the moment. 

Harry didn’t mean to fall asleep after your early dinner.

After getting the preparations ready for your sail to Spain in the morning and dismissing the crew for the night, he dozed off on one of the wide cushioned loungers on the deck, the sun slowly descending and painting the sky with a magnificent sunset.

You decided not to wake him. Instead, a wicked little plan bloomed in your mind as you slipped below deck for a quick shower.

You changed into the sage green lingerie set you bought in Monaco just for this moment—delicate lace hugs your curves and the color compliments your sun-kissed skin. 

After much deliberation—you decided you didn’t care what came out of taking this affair the whole way. 

You haven’t had sex in… you don’t even know how long it’s been. You’re starving for that intimate affection, and it’s no secret that Harry wants you just as badly.

You’ll deal with the repercussions later. For now, you’re about to get some.

A silk robe slides over your skimpy outfit, and you dim the deck lights to set the mood. Enough sunset still lingers to bathe everything in a romantic haze before full nightfall.

You tiptoe over to where he is, careful not to wake him yet. He looks so peaceful like this: lashes resting against his cheeks, those soft curls tousled and inviting, his pouty lips framed by the neatly trimmed facial hair that makes him look impossibly handsome. 

Carefully, you sink to your knees in front of the lounger, angling your body so your face is level with his lap. His strong thighs flex as he shifts slightly in sleep, and you hold still until you’re sure he won’t stir. 

Your skin prickles with goosebumps despite the warm evening air, anticipation thrumming low in your belly.

Your hands glide slowly up and down his thighs, then gently massage the bulge beneath his shorts. He feels big and your core throbs with need the more you tease him.

Leaning in, your lips press soft kisses just above the waistband where his shirt has ridden up, tasting his warm skin and feeling the happy trail leading downward. You continue massaging, lips brushing tenderly until he hardens fully under your touch.

Harry lets out a soft grunt, hips bucking lazily. Unable to wait any longer, you carefully free his cock through the front of his shorts.

Your eyes widen at the sight—impressive length curving upward, flushed from your attention, thick enough to know he’s going to feel incredible inside you.

But first… you need a taste.

Your eyes flit up to see him still blissfully unaware of what you’re up to. You stick your tongue out to run it slowly up his warm, salty skin, moaning at the taste.

You continue, licking, kissing gently, placing open mouthed kisses all over his cock while he sleeps.

Harry’s dream bleeds into reality as pleasure surges through him. His eyes flutter open to the breathtaking sight of you on your knees, silk robe slipping off one shoulder, mouth wrapped around him.

“Sol…” he groans, voice hoarse with sleep and sudden lust. His head falls back against the cushion as you take him deeper, earnest and eager, gagging softly when his tip hits the back of your throat.

One hand trails down to cup the nape of your neck, not guiding, just holding reverently.  “Fuck, baby… what are you doing to me?”

You pull off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and stroke him firmly with one hand while the other tugs open your robe.

The lace set is revealed in the fading sunlight—your breasts barely contained in the bra, the matching panties damp from how aroused you are from sucking him off.

Harry curses under his breath, eyes darkening with desire. “Look at you… so fucking gorgeous. Especially like this, with my cock in your hand.”

You smirk, shrugging the robe fully off your shoulders before undoing the front clasp of your bra. Your full breasts spill free, bouncing softly as you deliberately shake them for him, still stroking his length with teasing pressure.

“Let’s get you out of these,” you whisper, fluttering your lashes at him.

He obliges, lifting his hips to help shove his shorts down far enough to fully reveal his manhood. 

Leaning forward, you let a generous string of spit fall onto his cock, lubing him before sliding his hot, hard length between your tits.

The sensation makes you both moan.

You press your breasts together tighter, sliding them up and down his shaft in long, indulgent strokes. His cock throbs between them, the flushed head peeking out with every downward glide, smearing precum across your cleavage.

You dip your head and lick the tip each time it emerges, sucking greedily on the head while your tits continue to work him. The way he grunts makes you clench around nothing. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on before.

Your nipples are tight and hypersensitive, slick smearing over your pussy lips as you rub your thighs together, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” Harry rasps, hips grinding up into the tight, warm channel of your breasts.

An enthralling smirk ghosts over your lips at his praise, which makes you move faster, the slick glide growing messier.

You take the head back into your mouth, sucking hard, determined to push him right to the edge but not fully over.

Harry tenses beneath you, his strong thighs flexing hard as his orgasm builds, a groan rumbling from deep in his chest. His fingers firmly cup your neck again, pulling your talented mouth off his throbbing cock with a wet pop.

Strings of saliva and precum stretch between your swollen lips and his flushed tip before breaking.

You look up at him with a saccharine pout. “I was having fun.”

“Trust me, baby,” he lets out a ragged breath. “Fun’s not over yet.”

You bite your lip and giggle excitedly as he sits up in one fluid motion, reaching for you. He pulls your half-naked body flush against his, your damp panties pressing directly over his dick.

You grind down instinctively, the hot, wet friction making you both moan.

The sea breeze kisses your bare breasts, the distant waves providing a sensual ambiance.

He captures your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, tongue slipping inside to taste the sweet remnants of the fresh peaches you’d been eating mixed with the salty musk of his own cock.

It’s both filthy and intoxicating. His hands roam desperately over your curves, gripping the supple flesh of your ass and guiding your grinding hips, bucking up so his length drags against your clothed sex, the fabric barely a barrier so he can feel just a bit of flesh from your pussy.

“You ever been fucked on a boat before?”

You laugh breathlessly, the sound melting into a needy moan as he kisses down the column of your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point while his hands knead your ass rougher.

“No,” you gasp.

“You’re about to be.”

Before you can catch your breath, Harry maneuvers you with surprising strength and grace. He turns you around, positioning you perfectly against the sleek railing of the yacht.

You grip the warm, polished metal tightly, back arched, facing the breathtaking disappearing sunset over the cove.

The golden and pink light spills across the water, the cliffs glowing softly in the distance. 

His fingers hook into your ruined panties and he slides them down your legs, leaving you completely bare for him.

“Harry…” you whine as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses and gentle bites along your shoulder.

His cock, still wet from your mouth and tits, slides teasingly up and down your dripping slit. The fat head rubs tight, maddening circles over your engorged clit, making your eyes roll back and your thighs tremble.

“You know, I wanted our first time to be a little more romantic,” he murmurs against your skin, almost condescendingly in the hottest way. He continues to drag his cock between your pussy lips again and again, coating himself in your arousal.

“Candles, flowers, a nice big bed with silk sheets so I could spread you out and taste you until you’re in tears, begging me to fuck you.”

Your thighs quiver violently, your cunt clenching around nothing as his words make you delirious with need.

“Please, Harry,” you beg now, pushing your hips back, swaying them enticingly. “I need you.”

He notches the head of his cock right at your entrance and pushes in with one smooth, powerful thrust. 

Your pussy swallows every inch, stretching deliciously around him until he bottoms out. You both let out long, shuddering moans of pure pleasure.

His large hands grip your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he leans forward, forehead resting against your shoulder blade.

He gives you deep, steady strokes that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. Your jaw drops in a silent scream, each movement making your breasts bounce with the rhythm. 

Harry fucks you like he’ll never get the chance to again. All of the pent up sexual tension releases with every impassioned thrust.

“Fuck… so tight, so damn perfect,” he groans, picking up pace, hips snapping against your ass. 

You gasp, fingers tightening on the railing, your creamy slick coating his shaft, evidence of how good he’s fucking you.

“That’s it, you take me so well.” His lips brush against your ear. “Been dreaming about this since the moment I saw you at the pool. Wanted to bend you over and fuck you senseless in that cabana.”

He moves a hand to cup one of your bouncing breasts, pinching your nipple tightly, overwhelming you in the best way.

“Harry… oh god, you feel so good,” you whimper, arching your back deeper.

His thickness fills you exactly as you dreamed. The yacht’s gentle rocking makes him hit that perfect spot inside you with every roll of his hips, sending sparks of ecstasy directly to your clit.

“Look at you. Anyone sailing by could see how much of a dirty little thing you are for me.” He rolls your nipple between his fingers. “So fucking good… you hear how wet you are?”

You do and it’s almost embarrassing. You’re trembling, core tightening as pleasure builds fast and hot.

“Fuck, yes… squeeze me just like that,” he growls, biting down on your shoulder. His other hand slides down your stomach to rub firm circles over your swollen clit.

“Come on, baby. Show me how badly you’ve wanted this.” His thrusts grow deeper, almost punishing, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every snap of his hips.

The combination of his dirty words, the expert stroke of his fingers on your clit, and the relentless pounding sends you spiraling.

Your orgasm crashes over you hard as you cry out his name into the open sea. The pale moonlight that’s replaced the sunset paints your skin almost iridescently while waves of pleasure ripple through you, your pussy gushing around him.

Harry doesn’t stop, instead pulling back to get a better angle. He fucks you through it, relishing in how your walls flutter around him, chasing his own release.

“That’s my good girl… coming so pretty on my dick. Fuck, Sol—I’m close.”

You swirl your hips, the flesh of your ass rippling as you throw it back on him, finally able to find words other than just his name. “Come all over me, Harry.” Your voice is breathless and needy. “Please… I want to feel it.”

Your words paired with the view of your pussy gripping his cock has Harry peaking right then and there. He pulls out, stroking his cock while grabbing a handful of your tit again, finishing all over your folds and inner thighs.

Harry’s body blankets yours as he presses lazy kisses along your neck, both of you catching your breaths, a thin layer of sweat covering your bodies. 

“Holy shit… that was amazing,” you breathe, your arms trembling from the intensity as you cling to the railing. Your legs feel like liquid, thighs slick with your combined release, and your pussy still flutters around the memory of him.

Harry notices immediately. He turns you around and carefully guides you down onto the wide cushioned lounger, the soft fabric warm against your overheated skin.

The sea breeze drifts over your naked body, cooling the sweat glistening on your chest and the mess between your thighs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmurs, laying down beside you and pulling your spent body flush against his. You tuck yourself into his side, resting your head on his broad, rising-and-falling chest.

He wraps one strong arm around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns along the sensitive curve of your back.

“Sorry for spoiling your romantic bedding fantasy,” you tease playfully, propping your chin on his naked chest to look up at him. Your eyes are heavy with satisfaction, lips still swollen from earlier.

Harry chuckles softly, the sound vibrating warmly beneath your cheek. He shakes his head, running his fingers through his slightly damp curls. “We’ve got all summer to make that come true,” he promises.

You bite your lip, a fresh spark of desire flickering through your exhausted body. Now that you’ve felt how devastatingly good he is, you’re not sure you’ll be able to keep your hands off him for the rest of the trip.

The thought of riding him on sun-drenched decks and tasting him under starlit skies makes your clit tingle.

For the briefest second, Joel flickers across your mind, but he vanishes just as quickly when Harry’s warm hand strokes slowly down your spine. His touch is worshipful, sending pleasant shivers across your skin and pulling a soft, contented moan from your lips.

“Then we should rinse off and you can give me a preview in the shower.”

His brown eyes drop down to yours, seeing the bubbling lust there, and that’s enough to get the both of you moving.

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[inotsurewhatsgoingon]

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑓 𝐴𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝐻𝑜𝑡𝑐ℎ𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

[ppaattrriizziiaa1]

You Are In Love | A Harry Castillo story pt. 3 (final)

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Summary: The New Year’s Eve night leads to an amazing lifetime together.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, fluff, established relationship, so much love, reader is younger than Harry but it’s not specified

Words: 2.4k

Notes: So this is the last chapter of this mini series! I had a lot of fun writing that and I’m glad you guys liked it, too. I apologize for any mistakes, English isn’t my first language. Please, do not copy my work. Thanks!

Dividers by: @strangergraphics thank you!

masterlist | series masterlist

The busy New York streets greet you with their usual hustle. You smile to yourself. Ever since you’ve lived here, you loved it.

And not just the city.

Since that memorable New Year’s night it’s been six months. Now it’s an early summer and life never felt better. For many, many reasons. You got a job at a nice, only female-led company, which feels refreshing after years spent in men’s field. You moved to New York. And you really try to think that it’s just because of work. But you know it’s not.

Because now you’re heading to Harry’s.

Holding a champagne bottle and wearing the midi skirt he loves so much, you’re crossing the road in the already familiar neighborhood. He invited you, saying you’ll be celebrating something. You’re not sure what is this about, but are excited.

Your boyfriend usually doesn’t like surprises, so it’s kind of out of character.

Yeah, your boyfriend.

You still can’t believe this is how your life looks like now. A stable job, a small, but also stable apartment. And a very stable, loving relationship. You’re finally feeling like you’re on a right path, after years of being lost. Harry made all the skies clear and your chest light. And you… You gained that new kind of confidence that was unknown to you before.

So… everything is kinda perfect.

Greeting with the doorman as usual, you enter the apartment building. Your heels click on the marble floor as you head to the elevator.

But you stop in your tracks when you see Harry already there.

„Babe? What are you doing here?” You smile, eyeing him in his simple white shirt and jeans. You like this casual look on him. Much more than the stiff suits he’s forced into in his office. When you’re close enough, he pulls you in by the waist. His eyes crinkle with the playfulness you fell so deeply in love with.

„Taking you somewhere.” He says and kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in a month.

You actually saw each other yesterday.

„Somewhere? Where exactly? And what are we celebrating?” You lean back, asking all those questions. Curious as always.

„I’m not telling you anything. Not yet, at least.”

With a smirk, he leads your surprised form outside, where his car already waits. The valet hands Harry the keys and your boyfriend opens the door for you to sit inside.

You keep wondering what is happening. Of course, Harry is damn good at organizing romantic dates, but he always liked to brief you about the plans. Dating him, you quickly learnt he is very meticulous about this stuff. It impressed you, especially that the guys you dated before him thought the maximum effort was to order a pizza for a night in.

Once in the car, Harry pulls onto the street. You watch him from the side, you notice the way he grips the steering wheel a little tighter than usual.

„You okay?” You ask as you set the champagne bottle on the floor by your feet. He glances at you. „Yeah… Yeah, why?”

„I don’t know, just… you seem nervous.”

„I do?” He quickly glances at you again, but then shifts his eyes back to the road, like he realized he’s being suspicious. „Well, I’m not. I’m fine, love.”

With that, he reaches out his hand and rests it on your thigh. He gives it a tight, affectionate squeeze.

You love it all came so easy to both of you. Since you met on that party, months ago… You spent almost every minute with each other. Harry and his calming presence captivated you in a way no one ever did. And you with those kind, understanding eyes were his undoing. The simple dates quickly turned into a relationship.

A relationship that now grows stronger with every day.

You both found out you never were the problem. You just waited for each other.

And this… this is everything.

You’re not talking for a while, he lets you (as always) connect your phone to the car and play some music. So now he listens to you singing Sade like she was your religion. She kinda is. He smiles to himself. He never expected his life could look like this. Driving his girl, seeing her feel so safe around him to be herself.

Someone feels safe around him.

You feel safe around him.

Around the asshole bachelor everyone took him to be.

Suddenly your singing stops when you notice a sign that says you’re entering the highway.

„Harry, where the hell are we going?” You look at him, but he just shrugs. „We going to Darien?”

His jaw clearly clenches just a bit. He really didn’t think he could hide the truth for much longer.

„Maybe. Stop asking so much questions.”

You laugh, already feeling the weird tingling. You always do whenever you go there. Because that is where everything between you started on that winter night. Darien, his holiday house and the beach… They’ll always hold a special place in your heart.

„Okay. I won’t, Mr. Romantic.” You smirk and grab his hand to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. His serious expression melts the moment you do so. He is not capable of being nervous around you. It’s like this part of him completely shuts off whenever you are near.

About an hour later you get to the town. Its streets busier in the season than on winter, but you love it anyway. You love the calmness that surrounds here. It’s where people slow down. You and Harry as well.

„Wait, we are not going to the holiday house?” You ask when he passes the right turn. „No.” He smiles.

You just roll your eyes. Guess you’re not finding anything out.

Gladly, you don’t have to wait long for an answer because the parking lot before the Darien beach appears before you. Harry stops the car near the beach entrance and glances at you.

„Did we really have to drive almost two hours to celebrate this mysterious something?”

„Yes, baby.” He nods and gets out the car only to help you out. „But maybe take off those heels.”

„Yeah, no shit.” You giggle and he holds your arm, supporting your balance as you get rid of them. You decide to leave them in the car and instead grab the champagne bottle. Harry takes your hand in his and you can feel the way it is a bit sweaty. Yeah, it’s warm outside, but… Not enough to be sweating. Especially now that the breeze hits your faces and gets through the fabric of your clothes.

„The sunset is soon.” Your boyfriend says.

„Good. It’s been a while since we watched it here.”

Shoulder to shoulder you head towards the beach. You already hear the quiet hum of waves and can’t help, but smile. This place has something magical hanging in the air. And you’re not sure if it’s the water, or the person that’s leading you onto the sand.

„Huh, how empty here! I thought, people might be flooding it at this hour.” You say.

„Yeah, well… Maybe they prefer watching sunsets from their villas.” Harry huffs.

He lets you drop his hand and run towards the waves. A laugh escapes your throat. You missed this more than you thought. And the fact that he took you here? It says more than anything. You let your feet get wet. Water is cold, but oh, so refreshing.

„Harry! Come on!” You shout still looking at the horizon. You would say that it’s the best view in the world. But you don’t know the one your boyfriend has now… Mesmerizing.

Your hair windblown, catching the last glimpses of the sun. Your skirt flowing around you with the breeze. And your laugh? The best sound he ever heard.

His silence confuses you, so you finally turn around towards him.

And you freeze.

Harry Castillo is on his one knee, right there on the sand… Holding the tiny, red box in his hands. He opens it, the moment your jaw falls open with shock.

„Harry…” A quiet breath leaves your mouth, carried by the breeze like a prayer.

„I love you.” He says simply, completely undone by you and the impact you had on him since the very first moment. The diamond ring shimmers beautifully in the sun, but all you’re focused on are his deep, loving eyes. You take few steps closer, so you could reach your hand and brush his. He’s looking up at you with so many emotions on his face. But the one is as clear as day. Love, love, love.

Tears already form in your eyes.

„I know we’re together for like half a year, but… God, I never been more sure of anything in my life.” He starts, words catching in his throat, because he doesn’t want to screw this up so bad. „Baby, I… I chose this place, because I still have this New Year’s night in my head… You put me back on my feet without even realizing it. Your laugh… the first moment I heard it, I knew I want to hear it for the rest of my life. With you by my side, I finally believed that I’m worthy of this. Of having a person that will stand by me.”

You stare at him, dropping the champagne bottle onto the soft sand. It just lands there, not interrupting the important moment you two share right now.

„I’ve been hesitant with my heart for most of my life. But you… Few hours in knowing you and I was certain that you’re the one. Love is supposed to be easy. And loving you is the easiest, most natural thing I know. So I’m here now, giving you my mother’s ring, on this beach… when we first played as kids and then fell in love years later… I’m here, asking you… Will you marry me?”

Your breath catches the moment the most important question leaves his mouth. His eyes solely on you, pleading to spend the rest of your life with him. And there is only one answer that begs to sound between the waves.

„Yes… Yes! Harry, of course, I’ll marry you!” You almost sob as the biggest smile grows on your face. „Yeah?” He breathes, still a bit shocked he did it and you actually said yes.

„Yes, you dummy. Give me the ring.” You laugh.

Shaking his head in amusement, because of course you’re calling him names even during the engagement, he takes the ring and slides it onto your finger. You admire it now, how it catches the daylight. „Woah…”

He laughs at your reaction. He’s aware you’re not used to the extravagancy like that, but… You’re the only person that is worthy of wearing his mom’s ring. Now, it makes perfect sense why Lucy didn’t feel right. Why giving it to her seemed so wrong…

The ring was waiting for you.

Harry was.

And now that he has you? Wearing the proof of his undying love? He will never let you go.

„I love you so much. Get up from this knee.” You say and the moment he is on his feet, you pull him into the most meaningful, deep kiss you ever shared. Your hands slide up his neck to his curls, remaining there, tugging him closer. He responds with a low grunt, enveloping you in his strong arms. You both laugh against each other lips. It’s just natural, like everything that happened between you since the New Year’s Eve.

„Can’t believe you’re going to be my wife.” He grins, squeezing you.

„Me too. Does that mean I can call you my fiancé?”

„Yes. God, call me that all the time.”

You giggle. „Okay, does that also mean we can open the champagne now? Is this what we were supposed to celebrate today?”

„Also yes… Sorry for being so secretive earlier.” He looks down at you sheepish, but also with such big affection. „Are you kidding me? It was amazing. All of it.” You assure, still dumbfounded by the fact you’re wearing his ring on your finger. „I’m gonna be Mrs. Castillo.”

„I now pronounce you Mr. And Mrs. Castillo. You may kiss the bride.” The pastor says.

Harry doesn’t waste a second, just pulls you in and crashes his lips on yours. Cheers and clapping of your family and friends fill the Darien’s chapel as you do. Husband and wife. How amazing does it sound.

You never thought you’d get to experience this. Love, a wedding like this… It felt always out of reach. Harry had the same thoughts, until he met you after all those years.

And now, as all the guests went outside, you head together out of the chapel. Him holding your hand, wedding bands glistening on both of your fingers… You’re not feeling like a failure anymore.

Actually, it’s the first time in your life you know what you’re doing and who are you doing it with.

Harry opens the umbrella as you cross the entryway. It’s snowing today. Exactly a year later after your New Year’s Eve reunion. This date felt perfect for your wedding. Like the closure both of you deserved.

The moment you step out, the guests cheer again. Some are throwing rice at you, but it gets lost in the snowflakes. It’s magical.

Harry holds the umbrella above your heads as you struggle to keep your dress away from the wet snow on the stairs. Camera’s flashes also surround you, capturing the moment of pure love and happiness.

Harry can’t believe how different his life looks compared to a just year ago. He’s a husband. The man who was always told he’s an avoidant womanizer, now is standing beside his wife. And he’s not hiding, not retreating. He’s here, arm around your waist, grinning with the level of joy he didn’t expect is possible.

But it is. With you.

„Is it everything you wanted?” He murmurs, leaning in for only you to hear.

„It’s better. Husband.” A giggle leaves your throat when you call him that. It’ll be your favourite thing from now on. Calling Harry your husband. Or him calling you his wife.

Husband and wife.

How fucking strange is that.

Now, you realize it was never about you being a failure. It was just about waiting for the right time and for a right person to share it with.

A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you liked it and see you in the next fanfic💕

Taglist: @orcasoul @purplerain04 @brittmb115

[pedroscurls]

 HARRY CASTILLO NSFW ALPHABET

if you want more context or details regarding any of the letters below, send me an ask! my requests are open specifically for this alone💛

content warning: explicit content (18+ mdni), more under the cut.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he’s gentle and careful. he’s up before you are, urging you to stay on the bed as he goes and retrieves a warm and wet towel to clean you up

and when he cleans the mess he made, harry focuses on the task at hand—completely enamored with how you look lying naked on his bed.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

harry likes his eyes, always did. he knows how to use them too. soft and puppy like when he wanted you to forgive him for forgetting to pick up dinner, and stern and serious when he needed to speak with investors.

his favorite body part of his partner’s would be your ass. especially in a pair boy shorts (paired with a thin tank top), walking around the penthouse like it didn’t distract him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

one of his favorite things is watching his come trickle out of you. it stills him—his white spend pulsing out of you and dripping down your inner thighs.

oftentimes, he’d gather his release on the tip of his length to push it back inside of you. something possessive takes over him whenever he sees his cum leak out of you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’d never admit it but he caught you one afternoon in his bed, watching porn with your hand between his legs. he stayed hidden behind the door, just watching and listening to the sounds of your pleasure as you got yourself off.

he knew you’d be embarrassed if he ever told you, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for that same scenario every time he came home early.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

absolutely. there’s no doubt about it. ever since his leg lengthening surgery, harry had plenty of experience with a lot of women who finally started noticing him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

it’s a cliche, but harry’s favorite position with you is missionary.

he loves feeling your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. but the best thing about missionary is the fact that he could stare into your eyes, watch your face contort into pleasure. it’s intimate. and it’s real.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

harry is 100% serious in the moment. it’s not that he can’t be goofy, but whenever you’re around, he can’t help himself. it’s like something else takes over him.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he does his best to groom himself. harry has always been an organized and neat person, so that extends to his grooming.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

eye contact. low groans. muttering how much you mean to him and how good you feel. he tries to get as close to you as possible, lips brushing your own, feeling your breath on his lips. he’s always been a hopeless romantic anyway.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he masturbates quite regularly. especially when you’re away for a trip or a work event and you have to work late.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

harry has a breeding kink. when you told him that he cum inside you the first time, it was like a whole other world opened up for him. he started imagining you pregnant—how beautiful you’d look. he also loves knowing that you’re walking around filled with his cum too.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

if he was being honest, he didn’t necessarily have a favorite place… so long as it’s with you. but if he had to choose, he’d say the shower. he loves watching the water cascade down your body… and he loves it when he presses you up against the glass too.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

you. you. you. it’s easy to get him turned on whenever you’re around. it’s the small things you do too—how you bite your lower lip when you’re thinking, when you’re asleep on your side, one leg straightened out and the other bent forward to reveal your legs and ass, and even when you’re sitting on the sofa with a book in your hands and your hair pulled into a messy bun. as long as it’s you, he’s already turned on.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he won’t call you derogatory names—even if it’s part of role play. it just doesn’t sit right with him when all he sees you as is perfect.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

oh, harry loves giving and he loves receiving too. not only does it feel good to have your lips around him, but the fact that you are more than eager to just swallow him whole gets him going.

giving, on the other hand, he loves it when you sit on his face. loves the way you taste, the way you move your body against his mouth.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

both. he likes it both ways, and he knows you like it too. there’s just something in the way of you feel around him that makes him want to go slow, but the fast at the same time.

he loves feeling your walls slide along his length, gripping him with each thrust. when he’s rough and on top, he enjoys watching your breasts bounce… but when he’s behind, he loves watching your ass shake against him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

harry doesn’t typically like quickies… only because it’s just not enough time for him to do everything he wants to.

but he won’t say no to it either… especially if you’re pressed for time but want him badly. who is he to deny you of your needs?

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes, 100%. harry loves tasking risks with you. in fact, it excites him at how he’s so willing to try new things. only if it’s with you. always with you.

there was one thing that he’s never done before that he did with you that he’s now obsessed with: bondage. specifically, tying you up.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

harry’s pushing fifty, so it’s not like he can go round after round. but he does have stamina to make that one round last for what seems like hours.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

harry bought a toy because you asked. at first, he was offended, he wasn’t sure why you needed one when you had him.

but now, the vibrator has become a part of your sex life. he likes using it on you as he thrusts into you, watching you come undone so quickly.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

oh he loves teasing you. harry enjoys pushing you so close to the edge until you’re an absolute mess, begging for him to just fuck you.

luckily for you, whatever his girl wants, his girl gets.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s not overly loud, but harry is vocal during sex. he growls and groans, loud enough for you to hear. he’ll curse under his breath you when your mouth is wrapped around him and he moans when he slides into your heat.

he never holds back when he’s with you. especially when you’ve told him before that you like the sounds he makes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

harry likes being the little spoon sometimes. especially when he’s had a stressful day at work. you’d just hold him and the weight and warmth of your body against his always manages to ease any stress and concern that he feels.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

harry isn’t considered chiseled. he’s muscular and broad in his own way, but he also has some weight around his midsection, which doesn’t usually bother him. not when you look at him the way you do.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

oh it’s high. harry has a super high sex drive where you’re concerned. he yearns for you whenever you’re apart and he yearns for you whenever you’re just sitting right next to him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

harry doesn’t fall asleep that fast. not because he isn’t tired, but because he likes to take a longer look at you before he does.

he loves how peaceful you look, how your lips naturally part to let each breath out, and how your chest rises with each soft breath. it’s in those small and brief moments that he realizes just how lucky he is that you continue to choose him.

[pedroscurls]

blurred lines (pt. 5)

summary: it's day four on the island... and you find out what harry’s been keeping from you.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): MATURE (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, angst, cursing, drunken confession (kinda?), both reader and harry are poor communicators, saying things neither of them mean/will regret later, no use of y/n. word count: 4.1k a/n: Y'ALL this was soo hard for me to write!!! ugh pls stay with me, the angst is only temporary, but we gotta get through the thick of it before we get to the good parts again. stay tuned and hope y'all enjoy <3 pt. 4 - pt 6. || series masterlist. || read on AO3.

The following morning, you were standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fixing your hair while you were getting ready to meet with Charlotte. Harry was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at you intently. Last night had felt like a line was crossed by the both of you and yet, neither of you decided to talk about it. 

Instead, it just felt like you were both caught up in the moment. It wasn’t serious. It didn’t mean anything. 

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Harry asked. 

“It’s just breakfast with Charlotte.” 

“Okay, but what if she starts asking about us?” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure she will.” 

He sighed. 

You looked over at him. 

“Why are you nervous?” 

“I’m not.” 

“You are, Harry.” 

He tightened his jaw. He hadn’t been able to sleep at all last night, the text from Peter sounding so ominous that his mind started unraveling. Harry watched you turn to face him and his eyes softened instantly at the sight of you. 

There were so many things that you both needed to talk about, so many things that you both needed to address.

But you didn’t. 

Neither of you did. 

“We’ll be okay,” you said. “We’ve got a few more days left. We’re fine.” 

“But what if we aren’t?” Harry blurted out. Then, he corrected himself. “What if they find out?” 

“They won’t.” You reached up to rest a hand on his chest, leaning up on your toes to kiss his cheek lightly. “We’re okay.” 

He sighed and shut his eyes, leaning forward against your touch. He reached out to rest a hand on your hip, lightly squeezing it as you stepped closer to him. 

It wasn’t even the fact that there was a possibility that his brother and Charlotte found out. 

It wasn’t that they were onto the lie that you both curated. 

Instead, it was the fact that Harry started looking at you in such a different way that he wasn’t sure how to move forward. 

He was so used to being in control, of making sure that everything was perfect and up to his standards and expectations, that you—and his feelings for you—put him on edge. 

Because last night, everything changed. The way you looked at him or the way he held you. It was different. You were no longer just a friend who was doing him a favor. 

“Are we?” He finally asked. 

Your brows furrowed. “Yes.” 

Harry opened his eyes to look at you. 

You bit your lower lip. You knew what he was saying, understood what he was trying to refer to. You couldn’t help but think back to last night, about what his mother said. Instead of addressing it directly, you decided to push it aside. “Do you trust me?” 

“More than you know,” he answered quickly. 

Your lips curled into a small smile. “Good. Then trust me when I say that we’re okay.” 

Harry nodded and slowly, he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. Your hand moved from his chest to rest at the base of his neck, stepping closer to him as you began moving your lips with his own. 

His hand moved from your hip to wrap around you while his other hand lifted you up into his arms. 

“Mm, I have to go soon,” you mumbled. 

“Not yet,” he whispered, pulling back to pepper kisses along your neck as he set you on the edge of the bathroom sink. He stepped between your legs, running his hands up and down your smooth and bare legs. 

“Harry,” you said quietly, eyes falling shut as you felt his lips move along your neck. 

He pulled back enough to look up at you. Harry moved his hands to your hips and tugged you closer to him. “Why can’t I get enough of you?” He asked honestly. 

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair. “This is new to you? You couldn’t get enough of me before,” you teased. 

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not true.” 

“Uh huh, sure.” 

“You act like I’m the only one,” he said softly. Harry pushed into you, his covered bulge now pressing against your clothed sex. “Maybe… maybe the fact that I’m seeing you everyday is doing something to me.” 

“Right,” you teased, clearing your throat quietly. “Or maybe it’s the fact that the last couple of times, we haven’t been exactly safe.” 

He growled. “We should stop doing that.” 

“We should,” you agreed. 

“But it feels good.” 

“It does,” you smiled, leaning forward and gently nipping at his lower lip. “Could feel every inch of you.” 

Harry’s grip around your hips tightened. “Mmm,” he whispered. “I do like the way you feel around me.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nodded. “How wet and warm you are,” he whispered, moving his lips along your jawline. “How tight you feel around me,” he continued, moving his hands to the waistband of your shorts. 

“Harry,” you whimpered. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

He pulled back to look down at you. Then, before either of you could do or say anything else, you both heard a couple of knocks from the front door. 

Harry sighed. 

You let out a quiet giggle. 

“At least I can hide mine,” you teased. 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Do you think if we ignored them they’ll just go away?” 

You smiled. “You know we can’t do that.” 

“Why not?” He sighed, stepping back and letting you down off the edge of the sink. 

“Because… whatever Peter wanted to talk to you about sounded serious.” 

“Fine,” Harry said. “But afterwards, you’re mine.” 

You smiled and kissed his cheek. “I’m counting on it, baby.” 

The knocking continued. Harry readjusted himself and looked over at you. 

“Go,” he said. “I’ll… be out shortly.” 

You grinned and looked down at him, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. “I’ll see you after breakfast.” 

He nodded. “I’ll be here, baby.” 

Harry watched you leave the villa with Charlotte by your side. Peter was already inside, seated on the couch, but he remained at the doorway. He watched you look over your shoulder at him and you smiled, giving him a wave before you turned back around. Harry just wanted to spend all day with you. 

Once you and Charlotte were quite a distance away, he finally shut the door and walked to the living area where Peter was seated. His foot was tapping anxiously against the floor and Harry furrowed a brow, sitting across from him. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” He asked. “You look nervous.” 

“I’m not,” Peter said. 

“You sure?” Harry replied, pointing to the bouncing of his leg. 

Peter sighed. “Are you cheating on her?” He blurted out. 

“What?” 

“Are you cheating on her?” 

“Why would you even ask me that?” Harry shook his head. “Of course I’m not. That’s not the kind of person I am.” 

Peter sighed. The tapping of his foot slowed. “I knew it.” 

Harry looked at his younger brother, confused. “Peter, what the hell is going on?” 

“Charlotte,” he said, running a hand over his face. “She told Lucy that you were here with another woman and well… she said that you had a membership with Adore.” 

Harry’s jaw clenched. “What? Why would she say that?” 

“I don’t know? Maybe she’s jealous?” 

He stood from the sofa. “Yeah, sure.” 

Peter furrowed a brow and watched his older brother begin to pace back and forth in front of him. “You—you don’t have a membership with Adore, right? She was just lying? Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with anyone else before.” 

“Of course she’s lying,” Harry answered quickly. He looked over at his brother and sighed. “Is that why you wanted to meet with me this morning? Is that why Charlotte’s taking her out to breakfast right now?” 

“No… I mean, yes,” Peter sighed. “I just—I wanted to talk to you about it. When she told me last night, I didn’t believe it.” 

“And do you believe it now?” 

“No, of course not,” Peter answered. “I know that you’re not that type of guy, Harry.” 

“Then, why does it look like you think I’m hiding something else?” 

Peter shrugged. “Are you? Hiding something else?” 

“No,” he answered. “Jeez,” he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “If I don’t have someone, you, mom, and dad are on my ass, trying to hook me up with someone that you think would be a good fit. But now, now that I do have someone and I’ve brought her here, it still isn’t enough.” 

“Harry—”

“You know it’s true, Peter.” 

“We just want you happy.” 

“Do I not seem happy?” He asked. 

“You’ve looked the happiest you’ve ever been since we got here,” Peter answered truthfully. 

“Then what?” 

“I just… Why did you keep this—keep her—a secret from me? From us?” 

Harry looked at his younger brother. “Maybe I just wanted something for myself before I got you all involved… and maybe, maybe I didn’t want to ruin it either.” 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“I’ve introduced all of the women I’ve been with too early in our relationship and look how all that turned out. I just—I wanted it to be me and her for a bit before we got to that point,” Harry lied. 

Peter sighed. “Okay,” he nodded. “Okay.” 

“Is Charlotte—Is she going to say something?” 

“I told her not to.” 

“That wasn’t an answer.” 

Peter bit his lower lip. “I don’t know.” 

“Fuck,” Harry sighed, sitting back down. “Fuck.” 

“You really like her…” 

“Of course I do,” he said, looking over at Peter. 

“Did you always?” 

Harry cleared his throat. He couldn’t tell his brother that you both started sleeping with each other long before this and he certainly couldn’t tell him that all of this was fake. 

That he did have a membership with Adore. 

And that he was sure he’d have several dates to go on when he got back to New York. 

“She’s beautiful, Peter,” Harry said. “Kind of hard not to like her.” 

Peter chuckled. “You know, before all of this, I was telling Charlotte that I was willing to bet her that you’d get engaged soon.” 

Harry scoffed. “You’d lose that bet.” 

“Why? I mean, everyone saw the way you two looked at each other last night.” 

He rolled his eyes and sat back on the couch. His mind drifted to last night’s events, how all he could remember was how beautiful you looked and the dance you two shared. 

But he couldn’t allow himself to get comfortable with that memory because Peter and Charlotte knew something that you didn’t and if you found out, Harry wasn’t sure how you’d react. 

“I’m trying not to jump into things so fast,” Harry finally answered. “We saw how that went with Lucy.”

“Lucy wasn’t the one for you,” he said. “But this one… she’s perfect for you.” 

Harry looked over at him. “It’s too soon to tell.” 

“Please… we’ve known her for years.” 

He cleared his throat. “We’re just… navigating all of this, okay? It’s too early.” 

Peter nodded. “Sure,” he said. “But you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that you’re not in love with her. We all see it.” 

Harry shook his head. He didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text. Two words, simple, and straight to the point. 

HARRY: How’s breakfast?

“I can’t believe we’re here,” you smiled over at Charlotte. You were both seated at a table that overlooked the water and the waiter set down two glasses of mimosas on the table before leaving you both to look at the menu. 

“I know,” she said. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? How rich they are.” 

“God, I know,” you agreed. “They rented out an entire island,” you laughed. “It sounds ridiculous when you say it out loud, but they worked hard for it.” 

Charlotte nodded with a smile. “Their mom loves you,” she pointed out. 

You shrugged, “I’ve known them for years. This time… it’s just a bit different.” 

“Yeah, you don’t work for them when you’re here,” she said. “Here… you’re their son’s girlfriend.” 

“Right,” you nodded. “Exactly.” 

“And how is that going?” Charlotte asked. 

Your brows furrowed. “Good,” you answered. “Harry’s great. We’ve known each other before this too, so… it’s not like we’re starting fresh. I mean, this is new to us, but we were friends before.” 

Charlotte took her own glass and sipped her drink, looking at you from the rim of the glass. “Sometimes, I wish my story with Peter was as cute and normal as yours and Harry’s.” 

“Why?” You smiled. “You ended up marrying him. It doesn’t matter how your story started. What matters is how the story ended.” 

She shrugged and set down the glass. “I know, but I mean… it’s not as romantic as yours, you know? Someone asks us how we got together and we say that we were matched from a matchmaking service. That’s not romantic at all.” 

“Hey, dating is hard,” you reassured her. “Besides, from what I hear, Adore is very elite. It’s not like Tinder, you know?” 

Charlotte’s interest piqued. “Oh, so you know about Adore?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, Harry told me about it.” 

“He did?” She asked, surprised. Maybe that was the nature of your relationship with him, she thought. An open relationship. 

“Why are you surprised?” You laughed quietly. 

“I just—I don’t know,” she answered. “You don’t seem like the type of couple who would be open to that.” 

You brow furrowed. “What? Open to what?” 

“I mean, Harry using Adore’s services while he’s with you? From the looks of last night, it just seemed like you two were so head over heels in love with each other. I didn’t think that you’d both have an open relationship.” 

You cleared your throat. Your heart dropped to your stomach and a sudden wave of unease washed over you. It shouldn’t have effected you the way it did—Harry wasn’t technically yours to begin with and all of this was a lie anyway, but… 

Why did it hurt? 

Why did finding out that Harry was already hoping to find someone else when he got back to New York unsettling? 

You felt tears sting your eyes, but you blinked them away, feigning a yawn. You couldn’t show Charlotte that you were taken by surprise. Instead, you had to go along with it. 

And that fucking hurt too. 

“Yeah,” you laughed anxiously. “Well, it works for us.” 

“That’s crazy,” Charlotte chuckled, letting out a breath of relief. “I was so nervous! I didn’t want to be the one to tell you the news, but I’m glad that you already knew.” 

You nodded and forced a smiled. “Well, I appreciate it.” 

“I just didn’t want him breaking your heart. I know he’s technically my brother-in-law, but still… us women need to stick together, right?” She smiled. 

“Right,” you answered. 

“Great, now that that’s over with, I can finally relax,” she laughed softly. “Does this mean you also have someone too?” 

You shook your head and looked down at the menu. Every passing minute just made you nauseous and anxious because you had to go back to the villa and face Harry. 

“No,” you answered. “Not yet,” you teased, despite the hurt and pain you felt. 

Everything that you had begun feeling for Harry since the start of the trip was now coming back to bite you in the ass. You both established rules for a reason—at the time, it seemed easy enough. Go back to normal after this trip, act like nothing ever happened. 

But now… now it was fucking hard to do that. How could you go back to normal when you had feelings for him? Genuine feelings? 

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be too difficult for you,” Charlotte said. “So… tell me how it works.” 

You cleared your throat and felt your phone vibrate from your bag. You excused yourself for a moment to go to the bathroom, promising Charlotte all the spicy details that you were sure she was hoping to hear about. When you were in the bathroom and the door shut and locked behind you, you looked down at your phone and read Harry’s text. 

Anger washed over you. 

You answered with one word. 

YOU: Fine. 

Harry read your text and let out a sigh of relief. Maybe Charlotte didn’t tell you. He leaned back against the couch for a moment before he heard his brother get up and walk towards the kitchen. He was rummaging through the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. 

Quickly, Harry sent you one more text. He would see you soon enough.

HARRY: Miss you. 

You looked down at your phone and wanted to scream. You didn’t respond. You just stuffed your phone into your bag and then looked at yourself in the mirror. 

You were embarrassed. Harry could have at least told you before all of this that he had a membership to Adore, to the same fucking matchmaking services that paired Peter and Charlotte together. 

Instead, he lied. He was lying to you from the start. And you weren’t sure what hurt the most. The fact that he didn’t want you to know or the fact that you were starting to develop real feelings for him. 

After about an hour, both you and Charlotte were back at your villa. You had too much to drink, slurring your words, laughing obnoxiously, and could barely stand on your two feet. Once the door opened, Charlotte gave Harry an apologetic look. 

“Sorry, we—we got carried away.” 

Peter looked over at the both of you. You had stumbled inside and tossed your bag and kicked off your sandals. 

“We should get head out,” Peter mumbled, leading Charlotte out of the villa. “I’ll let mom and dad know you’ll both be skipping lunch.” 

“Noo!” You yelled, already laying on the couch. “We will make it!” 

“No, we won’t,” Harry said. “Thanks,” he muttered, glancing at Charlotte who refused to look at him. “I’ll catch up with you guys later.” 

Once Peter and Charlotte left, Harry walked to the kitchen to pour you a glass of water. He chuckled to himself at the sight of you all sprawled out on the sofa. He had no idea what you knew. 

“Here, drink some water,” he said, setting it onto the coffee table as he sat down next to you. 

“No,” you muttered. 

“You need to—”

“You don’t tell me what to do,” you interrupted, words still slurring. 

“You’re right,” he said. “The water’s there for you if you need it.” 

“Stop acting like you care.” 

Harry furrowed a brow. “What?” 

“You heard me. You don’t have to pretend anymore. It’s just me. No one else is around.” 

“I’m not pretending. I do care about you,” he mumbled. 

“Liar. You’re a fucking liar,” you spat, sitting up slowly and staring at him. He noticed the tears pooling at your eyes now. 

“I don’t understand…” he said. 

“Of course you don’t,” you shook your head. “You’re still lying.” 

“I’m not—Baby,” he tried to reach out for you. Harry hated the look on your face—disgust and pain written across your features. 

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.” 

Harry’s brows pulled together in confusion. “What happened? At brunch? What happened?” 

“Why don’t you tell me?” You asked. 

“You’re not making any sense, baby.” 

You laughed. Then, you stood. 

Harry did too. He tried to reach out for you again. 

“Don’t touch me.” 

He cleared his throat. “I’m just making sure you don’t fall.” 

“It’s not my first time being this drunk, okay? I’ve done it before without you.” 

He sighed. “What did Charlotte tell you?” Harry was starting to realize that maybe she did tell you about his membership to Adore, that he did have dates already planned for when he got back to New York. It was the only explanation for your reaction. 

“What do you think she told me?” 

Harry’s jaw tightened. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I didn’t think it mattered.” 

You scoffed. “Do you know how bad that makes me look? Do you know how bad that makes you look?! God, I should’ve acted surprised. I should’ve made her believe that you were a fucking cheater.” 

“What?” 

“I told her that I knew about Adore because you told me about it before… but she—she thought I meant that I knew because we’re in an open relationship.” 

“What?” He repeated. “She thinks… we’re in an open relationship?” 

“Yeah,” you answered. “Because how bad would it look if the woman you brought to the Maldives to his parents’ anniversary trip had no idea that you were cheating on her?” 

“I wasn’t—”

“Just stop,” you interrupted. “We’re nothing, right? This was all fake?” 

Harry didn’t answer. 

“Right?” You repeated, staring up at him as you blinked back your tears. 

He straightened up and looked down at you. Harry took a step back and nodded, clenching his jaw once more. “Yeah, this was all fake.” 

“Good.”

Harry yearned to reach out for you. To wipe the tears away from your face and pull you into his arms. He wanted to go back to last night, to the way you looked at him and how it just felt right with you in his arms. 

“When we get back to New York… we’ll go back to normal,” Harry said. 

“No,” you said. “When we get back to New York, I’m done.” 

“What?” 

“I’m done,” you repeated. “I’m not going to be just some woman you need to go to when shit doesn’t go your way.” 

He scoffed. Harry was getting upset now. “Right. You do the same thing. That’s what we are to each other. It’s what we agreed on. Don’t act like I’m the only that uses you.” 

“You’re right,” you nodded, pointing at him. “I use you too and what a fucking mistake that was.” 

Harry took a step back. He stared at you with tears in his own eyes now too. He felt the tightness in his chest, could heart his own heart beating in his ears. He hadn’t felt like this when Lucy had broken up with him, so why did this—why did you—have this much of an effect on him? 

“I didn’t think me having a membership at Adore would cause this kind of reaction,” he muttered. “Seems like maybe you broke a rule.”

“Fuck you.” 

“What? Am I right?” 

You stared at him with tears trickling down your cheeks. You shook your head, sobering up now that you were high on emotions. “No,” you lied. “How could I develop feelings for someone who doesn’t even know what love is? Who thinks that everything has to be perfect? Do you know how fucking exhausting you are, Harry?”  

Harry inhaled sharply. “Stop.” 

“What? You can say things, but I can’t?”

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m seeing things clearly now,” you mumbled. 

“You think you know what love is? You’re still fucking single!” Harry spat. 

“At least I’ve been in love before!” 

“Yeah, and look how that turned out.” 

You shook your head and took a step back. You looked at him and bit your trembling lower lip. “I should be going home.” 

“Then why don’t you?” 

“Because after all of this, I still fucking care about you!” You blurted out. “God, how stupid do you have to be to not see that, Harry?” 

His eyes softened. “I—I’m—”

“Like I said, after this trip, once we get home, we are done. I don’t ever want to see you again after this.” 

“You don’t mean that,” Harry whispered. 

“I am done, Harry.” You sighed, allowing your tears to now fall freely down your cheeks. “You could have told me… but you chose not to.” 

“I didn’t think it would matter,” he said honestly. 

“Yeah… well, it does.” You turned on your heel and walked down the hallway to the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. 

Harry remained in the living area, bringing his hand to his face and wiping the tears with the back of his hand. He grabbed his phone and walked out to the deck, dialing his matchmaker’s number. 

She answered it after one ring. 

“Harry, hi!” 

“Cancel my dates,” he said. “And cancel my membership.” 

“What?” She asked. “I’m sorry. Did something happen? Did you change your mind? We have other matches for you—”

“Did you not just hear me? Cancel everything. I don’t want anything to do with Adore anymore.” 

She sighed. “Harry, you—”

“Cancel it. Or else you’ll be hearing from my lawyers.” 

“Okay,” she answered. “I’ll go ahead and cancel everything. If I could get some feedback or insight as to why—”

“Yeah,” he interrupted. “I think I'm already in love with someone else.”

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The Winner Takes It All | 14: The Manuscript

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Chapter summary: You and Harry officially become Gracie’s parents. Life is perfect ever since.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Chapter warnings: pure fluff and love, adoption, foster care, language, past struggles conceiving mentioned, alcohol consumption

Words: 6.5k

Notes: I can’t believe I’m saying that… Welcome to the last chapter of The Winner Takes It All series! I’m so happy and also so sad this day came. It’s my first series on Tumblr and it means the world to me. I want to thank you for all the nice words, all the encouragement. It’s been an honor to write for you and share this story. I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Please, do not copy my work. Thank you!

| masterlist | series masterlist |

It’s your third meeting with Gracie.

This time at her foster home. Tanya, her foster mom, watches form aside as you and Harry step into the living room. The house is cozy. Smaller than your penthouse, but you see the kids here have everything provided. It soothes your nerves.

„Hi, sweetheart.” You greet the little girl as you sit on a couch. Gracie looks up at you, then at your husband. She lifts her hand and gives you a little wave.

That’s good.

You can’t stop smiling as you watch her playing on a carpet. Now she is focused on some sensory book. She mumbles to herself, completely in her own world.

„We missed you, Gracie.” Harry says and she spares you a glance. Then back again to her book.

Since you met her your lives revolve around her. You wanna know everything, be there for every moment. But you can’t, it’s not that simple. There are many other couples who would like to adopt a two-years-old. Your job is to be the best one from all the candidates.

So far, you are. That’s what your caseworker said.

„Look.” Gracie holds up the book. There are some animals on it, some soft elements to touch for kids. Little girl smiles at this like it was something groundbreaking. For her it is. So, you and Harry instantly coo, admiring it just like she does.

„That’s amazing, Gracie.” Harry says, but then you decide to be brave and you lower yourself from the couch onto the carpet. „Can I see?” You scoot closer and are so happy when she doesn’t run away.

Instead, Grace sits next to you. Now the book resting in your lap and the little girl leans against your side. You might start crying, if you weren’t so terrified she’d pull away. So you just gently run your fingers through her soft, blonde hair. She seems to enjoy being next to you.

„Look, what does the dog say?” You point at the page in the book.

„Woof! Woof!” Gracie sounds excited and you laugh. You glance sideways for a moment to see Harry admiring you. He gives you this moment alone with her, because he knows how anxious you are about Grace not liking you. If you only saw yourself with his eyes… Gracie already loves you. Even if she’s too shy to express it.

You’re giving her the attention she’s lacking in the crowded foster home.

You’re making her feel important.

To you both, she is important.

„It’s soft. Fur.” You bring her little hand to touch the page where the dog is made of a fur-like material. She runs her hand back and forth like she’s petting it. „You like doggies?”

„Yes! Doggies nice and they do Woof!”

„Exactly. Harry, do the Woof.” You look at your husband and he sighs amused. Of course you would set him up like that.

But without any protest he sits in front of you both and leans in to Gracie. With a funny face, he barks once making the girl squeal in pure happiness. She reaches her hand to pat his head like he was a real dog.

Normally, he would never ever do that. He’s too serious for that, right? But where it comes to Gracie and to you? God, he’d do anything. Even if he feels a bit like an idiot acting like a dog… He doesn’t mind that. Because hearing Gracie laugh, so carefree and joyful… It fills him with this unknown before pride. Fatherly pride.

He would make a fool of himself for the rest of his life it means being with his family.

And you see that, too.

Harry changed in a way you never expected few years back. He’s not afraid, he’s not retreating. He’s right here, doing everything to make Gracie happy. His smile is so wide whenever you’re with her… It moves you deeply that he is not afraid anymore of all that love he carries inside.

And now both of you have someone you could shower with this love. You’re sure Gracie will be yours. And when she is? You’re gonna show her how much she means every day. Nothing will stop you for being her parents.

The fate is finally on your side.

***************************

By the time Gracie is officially yours, she turns three.

It’s been a long road. A lot of meetings. Her first visits at your penthouse.

You still remember this stress.

How she tentatively stepped into the large living room. How she was missing her foster mom. How she was terrified of the heights when she looked out the window. She came running to you to hold her. Her cries broke your heart.

That’s how you and Harry discovered her first fear.

Heights.

Which was troubling, giving you live in a damn penthouse.

You tried to get her used to it slowly. Slow steps towards the window. Touching the glass for her to see that it’s safe up where you live. Pointing at the shimmering lights of the city. She liked those.

With every visit… Your penthouse started to feel more like her home.

You decorated her room.

Delicate yellow and pink walls. Cozy, low bed with a lot of pillows and plushies. Her sheets are all in little fawns with pink ribbons. Warm lighting that always gets her eyes sleepy in the evening.

And a whole lot of toys.

Every kind, every color. You just gone crazy when you went shopping with your husband. Both of you made it your goal to spoil your little girl.

Then the court and the legal finalization. It was just a paper, because you already felt like her parents. But when you heard that the adoption was approved… You never were happier in your lives. Harry laughed at loud in the court, but neither of you minded.

All you cared about is that Grace was finally yours. Yours to raise. Yours to hug. Yours to love.

Your daughter.

Gracie Castillo.

Now, you come back home from the court. First time as her official parents.

„I can’t believe it.” Harry breathes, still completely at awe. „I need to see her right now, or I might fucking explode.”

You laugh, leaning against his side. The drive up the elevator seems so unfairly long. You watch the floors change on the little monitor, but it does nothing to ease your anticipation.

„Me too. I want to envelope her in my arms and never let go. I’m not letting her go for the rest of the day.”

„Baby, I don’t think you will ever let go.” He laughs.

„Yeah, true.” You grin and press your lips to his.

The elevator does a little ding and the door slide open.

And you see her.

Gracie toddles, squealing happily when she sees you. She’s wearing a cute little outfit you picked for her today. Dress in dots and blue tights.

„Hi, sweetheart! You missed us?!” You coo.

You kneel with your husband on the floor and she is wrapped in the middle. You attack her with kisses and she laughs. Harry pulls Gracie onto his lap, arms securely holding her to his chest. He presses his lips to the top of her head. Her happy sounds fill the apartment and it’s the best feeling in the world. You try hard not to cry, but when you see her, officially knowing she’s yours… You can’t hold back.

Your daughter.

„We became your parents today, you know?” Harry tickles her side to make her laugh even harder.

„Daddy!”

God, you still can’t used to her calling you that.

Mommy and daddy.

It came so easy to her during her frequent visits here. When you first heard it, you later hid in the bathroom to cry. Now? You feel pure joy and awe whenever she calls you mommy. And there’s no longer any fear that someone would take her away from you. She is yours.

„Were you good for grandma?” You ask.

„Yes. I ate bro-ccoli.” Gracie grins proudly. „You did?” You gasp. „Very nice, baby. I’m proud of you!”

„Our big girl eats her big-girl food.” Harry smiles.

„She certainly does.” Lynette appears from around the corner. She can’t stop admiring the view before her. You and your daughter. Harry being a dad. Her son finally has a family he always dreamt about. It’s the way you walked in here all excited to hold your little girl. She never seen a more beautiful scene.

„Mom.” Your husband hands you Grace and stands up to greet Lynette. A hug, a kiss on a cheek. „I hope she didn’t cause trouble.” He smiles.

„Not at all. Your daughter is an angel.” Your in-law can’t stop admiring her. It’s a big moment for her, too. Her first granddaughter. „So, everything went well in court, yes? You’re her parents?

„Yes, we are. Finally.”

The loving look Harry steals at Gracie is everything you need to see. He’s absolutely in love with her. And with watching you as a mom. Seeing her snuggle close to you, or how you talk sweetly to her… He always knew you’ll be a great mother. And now, no doubt in that. Even you feel more confident.

Because it’s just natural.

Caring for Grace.

„I’m so happy for you guys...” Lynette’s eyes glisten with unshed tears. „Let me take a photo.”

It’s a great idea, so you instantly stand up cradling Gracie in your arms. Harry joins you at your side, resting his hand on your daughter’s arm, enveloping both of you. Lynette grabs her phone and stands just right to get a good angle.

„Smile, kids.”

You do. You can’t stop beaming. Gracie giggles when Harry tickles her side again. Such a dad thing to do, isn’t it?

„There. Oh, how cute you all look! You have to print it and hang it on the wall.”

„We will. Absolutely, we will.” You say.

Later, in the evening, after saying goodbye to Lynette, you and Harry try to convince Gracie that it’s bedtime and she should get into her Paw Patrol pajamas.

„Come on, baby.” Harry holds the top of the pj’s set in front of her.

„No!”

Little girl sits on her bed, arms crossed over her chest. That cute frown forms on her face. You quickly learnt with your husband that you got a stubborn one. But even her reluctance about sleep doesn’t bother you. Not today, when she’s officially yours.

„Gracie, why don’t you want to wear it?” You ask, sitting next to her. „Because I don’t! I want purple!”

Oh.

Paw Patrol pajamas are pink. And your daughter recently has a purple phase. You share a look with Harry.

„Baby, you don’t have any purple pajamas…” he tries, but it only deepens her frown.

„But I want purple!”

You see she’s getting emotional about this and it’s really hard to remember all the classes you took with Harry about children. You see her and all you want is her to be happy. How are you going to achieve that when you don’t have purple pajamas?

You’re certain she won’t go to sleep unless she has something purple. You don’t get it, your adult mind is way too boring for that. But you do realize that for her it means the world. That’s just how children are.

„Okay, how about… We go tomorrow to buy purple pajamas? First thing in the morning, baby. But tonight you wear those and… hug Mr. Berry to sleep? He is purple.” You reach behind you to grab a teddy bear and hand it to her. Something purple.

God, you hope it’ll work.

Gracie sniffles as she looks at the purple plushie. Lately, her favourite. Then she glances at her dad, who still holds the Paw Patrol set.

„Okay.” She mumbles.

„Okay?” Harry smiles.

„Yes.”

You breathe relieved and your husband hands you the top.

„I promise, we’ll buy you the prettiest purple pajamas.” You kiss Gracie’s head. „We solved a problem.”

„Solved.” She repeats.

„Yes, baby. We did.” Harry caresses her hair.

Fortunately, the rest of the night routine goes smoothly. Pajamas, brushing teeth and hair brushing. Harry really grew fond of the last activity. Every night he sits with Gracie and brushes her golden locks. Gently, not to tug. And it’s her favourite part of the routine as well.

Then, you tuck her in. Always both of you, because you don’t want to miss a thing. Especially tonight. Her first night as an official Castillo. She holds her teddy bear close to her heart as you and Harry kiss her goodnight.

„We love you, Gracie.” Harry whispers.

„I love… too.” She says, already sleepy.

„You’re our favourite girl. Sweet dreams.” You press yet another kiss to her head and your husband follows.

You quietly leave her room as she dozes off. You can’t believe how different your penthouse feels whenever she’s up, or asleep. Together, holding hands, you head to the living room.

„She left quite a mess today.” You sigh softly as you see the toys everywhere.

„Mama said she was an angel.”

„She always says that.” You chuckle. „For her Gracie is flawless.”

„Well… she’s not wrong.” Harry smirks and starts to pick up the toys. You join him, grabbing a basket where you always collect all of them. „Yeah, she’s not.”

It takes a while before the living room looks presentable. Kids books in a perfect stack under the tv. Basket in the corner full of Grace’s toys now. Her drawings left on the coffee table, so she could finish them tomorrow.

Pouring yourself some water in the kitchen, you look at the space full of proofs of her existence. Gracie’s here, asleep down the hallway. Your daughter.

You have a daughter.

It feels so surreal after all you went through. All this pain… It was all to meet her at the end.

You remember the times of your fertility treatment, how lonely you felt then. Even if you had Harry… Nothing could ease the shattering thought of never becoming a parent. For a moment then… you thought it’s over. That for the rest of your lives it’ll be just the two of you.

How glad you are that it’s not true. That for the next years, you’ll live, witnessing Gracie slowly becoming a woman, who, you are sure, will accomplish amazing things. And you with Harry will make sure she has everything she needs to achieve her dreams.

„I can hear you thinking.” Your husband murmurs as he appears behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. You smile softly, felling him nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck. His presence instantly making you melt. „I’m just… taking it all in.” You say.

„What? The silence?” He smirks.

„Motherhood.”

At the word Harry’s expression softens as he turns you to face him. His warm hand comes up to your cheek. He sees the turmoil of emotions, a storm in your eyes. You are happy, he can tell. There is no tension creeping up your body.

It’s just… the nostalgia.

Fulfillment.

And he gets it. Your life finally looks like it was always meant to. It feels strange to have a little human sleeping soundly few rooms away. He thought you’ll never get to experience that. He made peace with it long time ago. So now… the new reality seems abstract. He still can’t get used to the thought of being a dad. He feels like one. But it seems like a fever dream. Like in few seconds Gracie will disappear and he’ll wake up.

„We did it, baby.” He caresses your cheek. „We are parents.”

„I still can’t believe it…”

„Me too. It’ll probably take some time for all of us to adjust, but it is real. As real as it can be.”

You press your forehead to his and he chuckles. It’s the reality of everything that finally settles in your hearts… You made it.

„Ready to go to bed?” He asks.

„Yeah. Just… Can we check on her one more time?”

These hopeful eyes of yours are difficult to say no to. And, well, you don’t even have to ask, because he was about to offer the same exact thing. „Sure, darling.”

You peeked into Gracie’s room, trying to be quiet. She still sometimes has some problems falling asleep, so you don’t want to disturb her peaceful slumber. But the moment you see her in the darkness, just a small pink lamp in the corner, making her face visible… Your heart melts. She is the cutest child in the world, no one could change your mind.

Once Harry and you are sure she is fine, you go to your bedroom. Just the next door from hers. But it still seems quite too far.

You get ready for bed. Your usual skincare, brushing your teeth. You steal Harry’s t-shirt to sleep in it. He just shakes his head with an affectionate smile, already used to that habit after years of marriage. The routine is peaceful. You’re both calm with the thought of your daughter sleeping behind the wall.

Settling under the covers, Harry pulls you into his arms. You don’t oppose, just make yourself comfortable with a tired sigh. This day was exhausting. The stress you felt earlier in the court is still humming beneath your skin. Harry seems to experience the same thing, because he holds you a little bit tighter than usual.

„Goodnight, love.”

„Goodnight.” You press a kiss to his shoulder.

You’re lying with your eyes closed, trying to focus on his breathing and falling asleep. You can finally rest after all the effort it took to be Gracie’s parents.

Then why on Earth your heart can’t seem to calm down?

It’s like you… feel something is missing. And you know what this is. You felt it since you closed the bedroom door.

Separation.

And after a longer while passes, you hear Harry isn’t asleep either. You lean back to look at him in the darkness and he seems to read your mind.

„I’m getting her.” He says, already getting up and you breathe relieved.

You hear him shuffle to the door and leaving to another room. You move to make some space in the middle of your bed. And soon… Harry is back with Gracie, still asleep in his arms. He carries her carefully just to lay her down between you on the mattress. A smile instantly grows on your face.

This is what you’ve been missing.

It just feels right. Neither you, nor Harry, can survive this night without her. It’s your first night as a legal family. You need your little girl right where she belongs. In your arms.

Harry settles next to her with a quiet grunt, pulling the covers over all three of you. Gracie shifts in her sleep, curling up against you. This nice, warm feeling splashes all over your body. The moment your daughter seeks your presence is the best thing to experience. Same knowledge she feels that safe with you… it’s mind-blowing. She is so adorable, so perfect. You gently stroke her hair in the darkness and Harry presses a delicate kiss to her arm.

„She is so precious.” You whisper.

„She is… God, I think I won’t go to sleep, just be watching her.” He grins. „Same.”

You both are just completely, achingly in love with your daughter. You admire everything she does. Even if it’s a hiccup, or some dance she invented. Grace Castillo is the most special girl on the entire planet.

„I love you, girls, so much.” Your husband whispers, reaching out to brush your hip.

„And we love you, too.”

At this moment, your life just reached perfection. You can focus on your daughter, on your family. That is the most important thing right now. Being together. Learning each other. Learning Gracie.

And you have the rest of your lives for that.

***************************

First day at work after adopting Gracie is very hard for Harry. Sitting at his desk, he keeps staring out the window, wondering what you and her are up to back home. He fights the urge to call you every five minutes. He knows you both are alright, but it is stronger than him. This need to be close to his girls.

„You ready, man?” Peter enters the office with a smile. Harry breathes relieved that his brother is already here. „Let’s get it over with.” He smiles.

A lot has changed since their fight. Once the emotions settled, they talked once again. Harry took to his heart what you said to him. Brothers figured out the issue. Peter immediately understood Harry’s need to be close to the family. And he also appreciated the occasion to have a bigger part in mother’s company.

Now? They have the same amount of influence on decisions in the company. That means your husband has less work, more time to be with you and Gracie. Just like he wished to.

And Peter does great on his new position. Harry gave him some lessons and this time the younger brother took them seriously.

Together, they head to an important meeting with a CEO of a company they want to buy. Walking down the hall, sharp suits and this confident demeanor… They feel unstoppable.

„After you, little brother.” Harry opens the conference room door.

The meeting as always is boring and difficult. There are many different conditions the company must provide and it’s frustrating, listening to the other CEO’s raucous voice. Harry tries very hard to not let his mind wander back to you and your daughter. Pete is the more focused one on this case. And it’s good. It feels good not to control everything.

And right when Harry thought his eyelids might close from boredom… The door open and he sees Frances, his secretary. She looks at him apologetically for interrupting.

„Yes, Frances?” He lifts his head. Since the damn car accident you had few years ago, he told her to come with any minor thing, even if he’s in the middle of a meeting.

„Mr. Castillo, your wife is calling. Asking for you.”

He straightens up at that. „I’ll pick up in my office. Pete, you’ve got it here?”

„Yeah, sure.”

With a nod, Harry leaves the conference room. The anxiety grows with every moment he doesn’t hear your voice. Did something happen? Is Gracie okay? Are you?

When he’s in his office, he picks up his phone. „Baby? Everything alright?”

But he already hears loud cries in the background and his heart shatters. He’d recognize them everywhere. Gracie.

„Ugh… I’m sorry, I know you’re in a meeting.” You say, sounding distressed. „But Grace misses you so much. I’ve been trying to calm her for over an hour now and I’m running out of ideas how to do it…”

Harry sighs. That’s the thing. Gracie has some separation issues, you learnt that quickly after meeting her. Moving from house to house at the very young age makes her very attached to people. Even if she was too little to be aware then, her brain remembered the lack of stability. And now, it can’t comprehend yet that Harry is only off to work and will be back in few hours. You try to teach her this, but sometimes it gets hard. Just like now.

„My poor angel…” He says, thinking how to help her.

„Can we switch to FaceTime? Maybe once she sees you she’ll stop crying.”

„Good idea.” Harry instantly finds the right button and soon he is able to see you. Your hair in a loose bun and you’re clearly wearing his sweater. He smiles. „Hi, baby.”

„Hey…” you smile, but it’s obvious you’re on the brink. Dealing with a crying kid can get anyone frustrated. „Okay, where is my princess?” He asks loud enough so maybe she would hear.

„Sweetheart, daddy is here. Look.” You say and bring little Gracie onto your lap. You set the phone before her, so she could see her father smiling at her warmly.

„Daddy!” She sobs. His heart bleeds, seeing her cheeks puffy and red from all those tears.

„Hi, babygirl. I see you miss me.”

„Yes…”

„I’m right here, sweetheart. Just at work. I’ll be back in some time.” He says softly. „I miss you, too, you know?”

„I want you here.” She mumbles and you squeeze her a little tighter, hoping it’ll ground her. „Oh, I know. But Gracie, I’ll be home before you realize. I promise.”

Her sniffles subside with his every word. Harry’s voice clearly works soothingly on her distress. She is just a little girl, missing her dad. It’s new to her to even have a dad. The moment Harry appeared in her life, it changed everything. Now she has a loving home and it’s hard for her to understand.

„You not leaving?”

„No, sweetheart. Daddy didn’t leave us. He is working. And after work he comes back here.” You try to explain once again, because she finally calmed down a little. „Exactly, your mom is right.” He adds.

„And while waiting, we can do something fun. We can bake the cookies you like…” you offer after leaving a kiss on top of her head. She instinctively angles more towards you, seeking the comfort of your arms. There is no hesitation in her movements now. Just pure need for her mommy to hold her. And, oh, how much you love every second of it.

„You’d like cookies?”

„Yes…” she says quietly.

„So bake with mama and when you’re done I’ll be back.” Harry encourages her. Gracie glances at the phone. „I love you so much, Gracie.”

„I love you, daddy.” She sniffles.

„No more tears, baby, okay? Because I’m coming back and then we will cuddle.”

„I like cuddles.”

„We know. And we will cuddle a lot after daddy’s home.” You hug her tighter and she shifts to wrap her little arms around your neck. You start rocking her gently, knowing it always soothes her. Harry now just watches silently, admiring how you manage to deal with Gracie’s tantrums. He’s sure you would probably calm her without his help, but he is glad you called. It’s a little insight in what’s happening in your daughter’s life when he’s gone doing his job.

Looking over her shoulder, you catch Harry’s gaze. He nods, realizing it’s his time to go. „See you soon, sweetheart.” He says and Gracie turns just enough to give him a little wave. „Bye bye.”

After that call, your daughter managed to forget how much she misses Harry. You wiped her tears and kissed her sweet face so many times till it made her giggle. This is the goal. Hearing her laugh.

„So, Gracie? Will you help mama?” You ask, holding her hand as you make your way to the kitchen. „I bet daddy will love some cookies after coming home.”

„Yes! We must bake! With chocholate.”

You chuckle at her mispronunciation. She tends to shift some letters, but it’s normal for three-years-olds. All that you care about is that you finally see some joy on her face. She’s always excited to help you in the kitchen. You even got her a special stool that now has its standard place by the kitchen cabinet.

You help her, first put on her favourite apron (it’s in little unicorns), and then hop onto her stool. You love this small moments when it’s just you and her. You’re still getting used to the fact Gracie is here permanently and you’ll get to have a lot of those moments. You see it clearly in your head. First day at school. First sleepover. First crush. Graduation…

It’s all yours.

Yours to experience.

Yours to help her through every stage go her life.

„Mommy?” Grace draws you out of your thoughts.

„Yes, sweetheart?”

„We bake!” She grins.

***************************

Jingle Bell, jingle bell, jingle bell rock

Jingle bells swing and jingle bells ring

Snowin’ and blowin’ up bushels of fun

Now the jingle hop has begun

The music from the record player fills your penthouse’s living room, that now is richly decorated in Christmas theme. A big tree in the corner, shining with the amount of ornaments. Presents underneath. Candles and gingerbread scent in the air.

It’s Gracie’s first Christmas Eve as your daughter.

So, you and Harry made it your mission to make it special.

You threw a party and invited only the most important people. Actually… Just Harry’s family. His mother, Peter and Charlotte. You cut off contact with your family and are happier ever since. Completely focused on raising your daughter, away from their bad influence.

„Cassie wishes you Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” You say, braiding Grace’s hair in her room. She already messed her beautiful bun you tied up before. You can hear the guests and music flowing through the hallway. But now it’s just you and your little girl. „I wish Cassie was here.” She says looking at the mirror of her little vanity you got her for birthday.

„I know, baby, but Cassie has her own family to spend Christmas with. She said she’ll come by tomorrow.”

„Yay!”

Your friend is another person Gracie grew very fond of. Sometimes when Harry and you want to get out on a date, Cassandra steps in to look after Gracie for few hours. You’re really grateful for all the amazing people you have around you. They make the parenthood even more beautiful.

„You want the red tie with a ribbon?” You ask when the braid is almost finished. „Yes. It will suit the dress.”

„It surely will.” You chuckle. You’re raising a little fashionista.

You bite your lip as you tie the braid together, making sure this time she will not destroy it. „There. How do you like it?”

Gracie observes herself in the mirror, turning her head to different sides. You can’t help the smile on your face. You love how she is, how she sees the world.

„Perfect, mommy.”

„Great, baby. Could you look at your reflection for a moment longer?” You ask and lower your head so it would be on the same level as hers in the mirror. Sneaking your arms around her little waist, you give her a hug from behind. You watch her smile. „You are beautiful, baby. Could you repeat that for me?” You say.

„I am beautiful.” The cute flush grows on her cheeks.

„Good. You’re kind.”

„I’m kind.”

„You are important.”

„I am important.” She repeats quietly and your eyes glisten. This is your goal. Making her feel like that. You try to sneak in those affirmations every day. You want her to grow into a confident, aware of her worth person. You want her to know in every stage of her life that she deserves to be loved. You want to give her something you never got as a kid.

„I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

„And I’m of you, mommy.” She turns to reach for a proper hug. You laugh almost tearfully, but you don’t want to show it in front of her. But God… she has no idea how much her words mean to you. She’s too little to grasp the weight of it. She makes you so happy.

„You are my favourite girl.” You press a kiss to the top of her head. „Ready to join the party?”

„Yes! I want dance!”

„I’m sure daddy will dance with you.”

Together, you head back to the living room where everyone is. Harry and Peter share a drink by the Christmas tree. Their mother and Charlotte chatter on a couch. They all smile when they see you, admiring Gracie’s new hairstyle.

„Oh, look who’s all pretty.” Your husband grins, setting the glass aside only to walk up and lift Gracie in his arms. She giggles, holding onto him. Always trusting he’ll catch her. „It’s me! And mommy.”

„And mommy. Mommy is…” Harry bites his lip when he eyes you up and down in your red, sweater-like dress. You’re matching with Grace. You laugh, leaning against his side to press a sweet kiss to his cheek.

„How about we open some presents? Just one tonight, though. The rest in the morning.” You say and everyone cheers, especially Gracie.

You and Harry bought her a tone of presents this year. It’s her first Christmas with you after all. But you don’t want to let it get into her head. One gift tonight.

Peter, as the proud uncle he is, sits on a couch and starts recording as Gracie opens as first from all of you. She settles on the carpet before the tree, waiting patiently until Harry hands her the present. It is a big box, actually bigger than her. The little girl beams, as well as the rest of you. Your husband sets it on a carpet before her with a quiet grunt.

„Oh, Gracie, what could it be?” Lynette coos delighted. Your daughter can barely sit in place from excitement. But she knows she has to wait. „It’s big!” She lifts her arms.

„It is. Do you need help with that? Santa Claus was very generous this year.”

You told her he stepped by before, when she was in a bath. You want her to believe into magical Christmas for as long as it’s possible. Kids deserve to see the world in colors, believe in something as joyful as Santa Claus.

„Yes, please.” Gracie stands up and starts tearing the wrapping paper with eagerness. Harry rips it from the other side, helping her. You watch excited as a big smile spreads on her face. „Wow!” She gasps, once she sees it’s a box of a doll house. A very big, French-cottage-styled doll house. It has three floors, a whole furniture package and even some sound effects. A star among the doll houses. The finest on the market.

„You love it?” Charlotte asks.

„Yes! Doll house! It’s so pretty! Woah…” your daughter is too mesmerized, now just circling the box around, admiring it from every side. Harry and you share a glance. You’re sure she never saw anything similar. You’re glad it brought her so much joy.

„Let’s get it out of this box, huh, sweetheart?”

„Yes, yes, yes!” She jumps around until she falls into your husband’s arms. They laugh and Harry can’t help himself, he reaches his hand out and tugs you into a hug as well. You hear some aww’s from the family, but now? Now Gracie’s happiness is all that matters. Feeling her in your arms matters. Sharing this moment with her and Harry… It’s all you ever dreamed of.

„I love you, mommy and daddy.” Grace whispers.

Later, once everyone is asleep in the guest rooms and Gracie dozed off in her own bed… You and Harry have a moment to yourselves. You find him in the hallway, where there’s a wall of photos. Your photos from your entire marriage. Some bigger, some smaller. All including important memories of your shared life.

You stop at his side, a wine glass in your hand. Both of you letting your eyes wander around the photos.

Your wedding portrait.

Your first Thanksgiving together.

Holidays, parties… all of it.

A wall of memories.

And now… it slowly turns into family memories. With every day there are more and more pictures of Gracie here. Her reading a book. Her playing in a park. Your first photo as a legal family… You smile.

„We’re slowly running out of space here.” Harry finally breaks the silence. A chuckle leaves your mouth. „Yeah… We better find a new wall somewhere here.”

„We could get rid of that painting you bought…”

That earns him a light elbow in the ribs.

„No. We are not getting rid of my Kirchner.”

„Okay, okay…” Harry smirks. „Was joking.”

You glance at your husband and he steals your glass with that stupid expression on his face. As he sips the wine, a weird sense of peace washes over you.

He is right here… Joking and laughing. Your daughter is asleep, safely in her room. And you? You don’t feel this enormous weight on you anymore. It’s the opposite. You feel light. No doubts, no worries. Just… free.

„What?” His smile softens when he notices your thoughtfulness.

„Nothing, just…” You hesitate, so to ground yourself you gently grasp his hand. „I’m really glad I didn’t divorce you these few years ago. Now, I realize I wouldn’t have all of it. A family like this… I’m so happy and it’s all because of you.”

What you’re saying is true. This is how you feel. Harry is the one. He always was, no matter how hard you sometimes wished it wasn’t real. When years back he was neglecting you… The lack of his attention felt like the end of the world.

But God, how glad you are both of you fighted for your love.

Because with him… Everything came easy. He was your rock when you most needed that and you know that no one else would be that for you. Not the way he is. You were always meant to end up together, despite all the problems on the way. You were always meant to adopt Gracie. It just feels right.

Suddenly all your life makes perfect sense.

And you’re happy you get to live it with Harry.

„Baby…” he sets the wine glass on the floor, moved by your words. He straightens up and cups your cheek lovingly. „The day I realized I fucked up then… I knew I’m gonna be making it up to you for the rest of my life. You’re it for me. It was either you, or no one. All I can say is… That I’m so damn lucky you took me back. And I’m so lucky you were that strong to offer adoption after all you went through… I’ll be forever thankful to you. For you. For this life. And for Gracie.”

Your eyes well up with tears. Harry always knows how to move your soul in the most beautiful way. He stirs those deep feelings you hide in your heart. He envelopes them in his warmth and honesty.

„I love you so much.”

„I love you, too, baby. Forever.” He whispers.

The kiss you share is one of those meaningful kisses. No, with Harry every kiss is meaningful. But this one… contains all this love and experiences from past few years… It’s the kiss that will stay with you for long.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, pulling you flush against him. So you could feel the familiar heat of his body. The familiar strength that will always hold you through every storm in your life. You’re sure it will.

Life is a cruel competition. It tests you on many levels, gives you stuff you think you can’t handle. But there’s always someone who will help you carry the weight, help you through the mountains and hold you on the top.

You and Harry are this for each other.

And this time?

You both won.

There are no losers when the love between two people is as strong as yours.

***************************

A/N: Thank you for reading! For reading all the story. I can’t believe we reached the final chapter. I actually want to cry, these characters mean so much to me and it’s been a joy to see you liked them as well! Let me know if you’d like some drabbles/one shots connected to The Winner Takes It All, it’ll be a pleasure to write them! You can always send me an ask. See you in the next story! Cheers🩷🩷🩷

Taglist: @palomavs @negrita2345 @jothenurse91 @chewie-bars @ivoryandflame @perpetualharpyresonance @alyloops @mamustreads @misstokyo7love @picketniffler @inept-the-magnificent @jasminedragoon @callmebyyournick-name @victoriaholland @oh-thats-cute @sophx58 @lilacs97 @mrsjosephmazzello @orcasoul @vickie5446 @callittrueblue @maryfanson @dendulinka6 @sunnytuliptime @pascalgf @cuteanimalmama @yourfavouritecrime

[pedroscurls]

blurred lines (pt. 4)

summary: it's day three on the island... and more questions about your relationship with harry surface.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, fluff, angst incoming y'all, brief jealousy, smut - brief (blink and you'll miss it) oral m!receiving, unprotected piv, bent over, dirty talk, no use of y/n. word count: 6.2k a/n: can y'all feel the tension building??? now, y'all know that i love pairing songs with my stories, so there's about two more songs that encompass this relationship with harry and reader. this is the first one and it just felt so fitting in this chapter. anyway, hope y'all enjoyed and stay tuned <3 song: love someone by lukas graham (lyrics in italics/blockquotes) pt 3. - pt 5. || series masterlist. || read on AO3.

He felt more relaxed after the day on the yacht. Harry didn’t feel like he had to make everything look so perfect anymore because it was easy with you. You fit in his life so perfectly. 

He also couldn’t remember the last time he woke up feeling so refreshed, so at ease, so comfortable. He’d wake up with you either in his arms or him spooning you from behind. It was like during the night, both your bodies craved each other. 

Harry knew that he shouldn’t, but he started looking at you just a bit differently now—how he wanted to hear you laugh more or see you smile. He knew today’s events would be at nighttime, which meant that you both had the rest of the morning and afternoon to spend with one another. 

And it terrified him. Not because he had time to spend with you, but because the feelings that he started to surface couldn’t go unnoticed anymore. Though, he was still going to try to push it away, to try and ignore it. 

But there was a part of him—a really big part of him—that wished you both could just stay here forever. 

Because it meant not having to go back home, back to reality, back to what you both were to each other. 

You had woken up to Harry gently shaking your shoulder. The doors to the outdoor deck were open, allowing a cool breeze into the room. You shielded the brightness with your arm and turned to your abdomen, covering your head now with the pillow. 

“Wake up,” he said, shaking your shoulder again. 

“It’s early.” 

“It’s not.” 

“It is for me.” 

He chuckled. “We have the entire day to ourselves. At least until tonight.” 

“Great, let me sleep some more.” 

He shook his head and took the pillow from you and the sheets that covered your body. “Get up.” 

“Why do you hate me?” 

He smiled. “I want to spend the day with you. Can I do that?” 

That caught your attention. You slowly turned back around and blinked the sleep away from your eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

You sat up from bed and gently tugged him down on top of you, wrapping your arms and legs around him loosely as he kept himself propped up with his hands on the mattress. 

“We can swim,” he said softly. “Go for a walk. Get one of those couple’s massages,” he suggested, bringing one hand to your cheek and gently brushing your hair away from your face. 

“You’d do that? Just me and you?” 

Harry nodded. “Gotta have some fun while we’re here, right?” 

You grinned and slowly rolled him onto his back, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Yes.” 

“So, get ready. I’ll order breakfast. We can eat it out on the deck and then go for a swim.” 

“You’ll come join me too? Not just dip your toes in?” 

He chuckled. “Yeah, baby. I’ll join you.” 

You smiled and Harry felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of your excitement. He craved more of it—more of seeing you happy and him being the reason for it. 

“You’re spoiling me today,” you teased. “What got you in such a good mood, hm?” 

Harry chuckled and rested his hands on your hips as he stared up at you. “Yesterday was… it was just a really fun day. You brought out a side of my parents that neither me or Peter have seen in such a long time.” 

You smiled. “So, I’m being rewarded?” 

He rolled his eyes playfully. “You make it sound worse than it is.” 

You laughed quietly and then slowly climbed off his lap to stand from the bed. “I’m just teasing. I’m glad you had fun yesterday. I did too.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Uh huh,” you said, walking towards your luggage. “Especially our brief time in the room.” 

Harry sat up and cleared his throat. He watched you rummage through your luggage to pull another one of your bikinis. “Oh?” 

“Yeah,” you said, pulling a yellow pastel-colored two piece. “I’m thinking if we have sex again, we might just have to forego the condom.” 

Harry’s lips parted in surprise. 

“You know, just one more time, without alcohol in both our systems.” You continued, beginning to walk towards the bathroom. “Just to make sure that it really feels as good as it did yesterday.” 

Harry stood from the bed immediately and tripped over his feet as he began walking towards you. He felt himself twitch beneath his shorts, already hardening at the memory of how you felt around him. 

“Can’t just say those things,” Harry said, scooping you up into his arms before he set you down on the edge of the sink.

“Why not?” You smiled, biting your lower lip as your arms snaked around his shoulders loosely. 

“Gonna get me all excited,” he answered. 

“And are you? Excited?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed as he grabbed one of your hands and tugged it down to his crotch. “You tell me.” 

You gasped, feeling his hardened length from beneath his shorts as you slowly began to palm him. “Yeah, I’d say you are.” 

He chuckled and leaned in to press his lips along the side of your neck, groaning against you when he felt you push your hand down his shorts so you could touch him fully. 

“We gonna start our day like this, Harry?” 

He nodded and dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “I’d hope so, baby.” 

“Good,” you smiled, running a thumb over his glistening tip. You hopped off the sink and moved to kneel down in front of him, pulling his shorts down with his boxers. He kicked them off the side as he placed both hands at the edge of the sink, looking down at you with dark eyes. 

“Whatcha doing?” He asked. 

“What’s it look like?” You asked back, leaning forward to wrap your lips around his tip. You lapped at his precome, tongue swirling around him slowly. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes falling shut as one hand moved to your hair. “This my reward, hm?” 

You smiled and pulled back, letting his tip brush along your wet lips. “Yeah, it’s your reward for a good day ahead.” 

Then, you put your mouth back on him. 

You had been having an amazing morning so far. It made you wonder if more moments like this would occur if you and Harry became something more than what you both were used to. You knew that you both established a rule that you’d talk to each other if one of you started developing feelings, but it just didn’t seem… right. 

Because it meant having to admit to him that you were starting to feel something so real for him, when that was never the plan. 

You both agreed that you weren’t what he wanted and he wasn’t what you wanted.

But why did three days in the Maldives change all of that? 

It wasn’t even the sex that caused a shift. It was the small moments in between. The lingering glances, the soft touches. The way you fit in so naturally with his family. You told yourself it was the fact that you were in the Maldives, pretending to be someone special to him—that was why you started developing feelings for him. 

If you just kept it to yourself and waited until all of this was over, surely the feelings would disappear too. 

Right? 

“You look like you’re thinking,” Harry called out, swimming over to you and resting his arms over the deck. You were sitting at the edge of it, sipping your coffee and dressed in your bikini. 

Your eyes narrowed at him. “I’m just… reveling in this moment.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“I am.” 

“Right.” 

“You don’t believe me?” 

“Nope,” he smiled. 

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your camera, snapping a few pictures of him before setting it down. 

“You ever gonna let me try and take a picture of you?” Harry asked, climbing out of the water and walking towards his towel to dry himself off. 

“No.” 

He chuckled. “Why not?” 

“My camera is my baby… I don’t trust anyone but myself to hold it.” 

“That’s a bit serious,” he pointed out, sitting down next to you. 

You bit your lower lip and sighed. “I did bring another camera that you can use.” You stood from the deck and walked back inside the villa, disappearing down the hallway to retrieve the Polaroid you brought with you. 

After a few minutes, you stepped back outside and handed the Polaroid to Harry. “I trust you with this.” 

“Ah, thanks,” he smiled. 

“I assume you know how to use it.” 

“Why’s that? Because I’m old?” 

You smirked and sat back down, leaning back just slightly on your hands. “Maybe.” 

“You weren’t calling me old about an hour ago,” he pointed out, winking in your direction. 

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes. 

“In fact, I think you were screaming my name for more,” Harry licked his lips and looked through the viewfinder of the Polaroid before he pressed the button. The film slid out of the camera and he began shaking it. 

You grabbed it from his hand and shook your head. “It’s a myth… shaking a Polaroid.” Instead, you tucked the Polaroid underneath your journal to shield it from the light. 

“But everyone does it.” 

“Shaking it doesn’t make it develop faster… in fact, shaking it can actually cause discoloration or unwanted blotches.” 

“Well, you are the professional,” Harry smiled, lifting the camera to his eye again and taking another photo of you. “You look beautiful, you know that?” 

You smiled to yourself and glanced over at him. “Are these pictures for me… or for you?” 

“For me, obviously.” 

When the film came out of the camera, he followed your lead and tucked them underneath your journal as well. 

“How about we take one together?” You asked, moving to sit next to him. He wrapped one arm around you as you leaned into him and he raised the camera to face the both of you. 

The both of you posed for several pictures—a simple one where the both of you were smiling at the camera, another where he kissed your cheek, but the last one… the last one you were looking into each other’s eyes, a broad smile on both your lips. 

Then, he set down the camera and pulled you onto his lap, hand coming up to your cheek. “You make me feel comfortable like this,” he whispered. 

“Hmm?” 

“I just—I just mean that this week so far… I’ve never felt as comfortable in my own skin as I do when I’m with you.” 

You leaned into his touch. 

“You just look at me like… like I’m special,” Harry said quietly. 

“You are,” you said quickly. “I mean, of course you are, look at your family,” you continued, trying to reason with the fact that this type of conversation wasn’t something that you or Harry were used to having. 

He chuckled, but he cleared his throat afterwards. Harry wasn’t sure why he was trying to gauge whether or not you were feeling the same thing he was. Even if you did, he wasn’t sure he’d even act on it. 

Would this even work back in New York?

“Look at us,” you smiled. “The Maldives are… making us look at each other just a little bit differently.” 

He nodded. Harry felt his stomach drop at that. Maybe you were just still following along, still pretending. He pulled you closer to him until he leaned in to press his forehead against yours. 

“So… what’s next?” 

“For the day?” You asked. 

Harry nodded. Though, he wanted to ask was what would be next after this, after the Maldives. “Yeah, baby.” 

“Well… you did mention a couple’s massage,” you grinned. 

“Okay,” Harry nodded, kissing your cheek lightly. “I can get that scheduled.” 

“I’m definitely gonna miss this once we go back home,” you chuckled. 

Harry stared into your eyes. 

And at the tip of his tongue, he wanted to say, what if this became real back home… then what?

The massage lasted an hour, but the sounds that were coming out of you did the opposite of what the massage should have been doing. You were letting out relieved groans at the masseuse who was working on you to the point that Harry looked over to see another man’s hands running along your bare back. He ended up cutting his own massage short but he allowed you to continue with yours. 

When the masseuses left, you had walked into the bedroom feeling lighter than you ever felt. Harry, on the other hand, was sitting on the edge of it with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. 

“Didn’t have a good massage?” You asked, still walking around in your bikini from earlier that morning. 

“Something like that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sighed, walking over to him. “Maybe next time, you should get the guy that worked on me. I swear, he had magic fingers or something.” 

Harry huffed. “No thanks.” 

You furrowed a brow. “Is something wrong?” 

“No.” 

“You’re lying.” 

He just shook his head. “It’s nothing.” 

“It’s obviously something if it’s causing this kind of reaction.” 

Harry stood from the bed. “I should probably get ready.” 

“We have a few hours left…” 

“Then I’ll go for a walk.” 

“Harry—”

He was almost halfway through the door before he turned to look at you. “Why do you have to make those sounds?” 

“What?” 

“You were… moaning.” 

“I was not.” 

He scoffed. 

“Okay, the fact that you don’t know the sounds I make is a bit concerning.” 

Harry’s eyes narrowed again. 

“I wasn’t moaning.” 

“Well, that guy was pulling some noises out of you.” 

“Yeah… because my body was tense, Harry.” 

“Exactly.” 

You shook your head. “I wasn’t moaning because he had his fingers inside of me.” 

Harry cleared his throat. “It sure sounded like it.” 

“Oh my god,” you sighed. “Is this… is this how you get when you’re in a relationship? Did you get like this with Lucy?” 

Lucy. You regretted it the moment it left your lips. 

“Shit, I’m sorry—”

“I’m not the jealous type.” Harry interrupted. He took a step closer to you now and slammed the bedroom door shut behind him. 

“Right. So… why did I find you pouting in here like someone kicked a puppy?” 

Harry tightened his jaw. “And I was never like this with Lucy.” 

That stirred something inside of you. Something you didn’t want to admit, something that had been simmering in the pit of your stomach since the first day you got here. 

“Sure. So, I’m the special one?” 

“Yes,” he answered quickly, taking a few more strides in your direction until he was standing in front of you now. “I didn’t like that man’s hands all over you.” 

“He was doing his job.” 

“I could’ve just fucking given you a massage myself.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, Harry, but you’re not a professional masseuse—”

Then, his large hand lightly encompassed your throat. He didn’t grip it, didn’t cut off any oxygen, but it remained there. Almost like a warning. 

And immediately, you felt your insides tingle. Could feel a pool of wetness now settle between your legs. 

“I just don’t like other people touching what’s mine.” 

Your eyes widened slightly. Harry suddenly turned you around until your back was facing him. Then, he shoved you down onto the bed and crowded you from behind. 

“Do you hear me?” He asked. 

You nodded, moving your hands to the mattress as you felt his hands roughly push down the bottoms of your bikini. He called you his. That wasn’t him pretending—that was real. 

And it made you excited. 

“Yes…” you answered. 

“Good,” he said. “I’m gonna fuck you now,” Harry said, pushing his own shorts down as he began stroking the base of his length. “And I better hear those fucking moans.” 

“Then, I guess you better do a good job then, huh?” 

He growled lowly under his breath. Pressed the head of his length at your entrance and lingered there for a moment, gathering your slickness. 

“Don’t I always?” Harry whispered, sliding into you in one deep thrust. One hand moved to your hip and he gripped it so tight that you were sure there was going to be a mark there later. 

Your back arched and you tried to reach behind him, pushing at his lower abdomen. 

He clicked his tongue and grabbed your wrists with one hand, pinning them at your lower back. 

“No, you can take it,” he said, pulling out to his tip only to thrust back inside in one go. Harry’s eyes fluttered at the feel of your tight walls, hand tightening around your wrist while the other tightened around your hip.

You moaned loudly, toes curling against the wooden floor as Harry continued his deep thrusts. This felt much more different than what either of you were used to. Sure, he could be rough, but never like this.

Never because he thought you were his. 

And certainly never because of his jealousy over another man’s hands on you. 

His thrusts sped up. The sounds of your moans mixed in with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours. 

When he released your wrists only to get a better grip on you by holding your hips with both hands, you reached out to fist the sheets tightly. You knew that both of you should be responsible, that he should have at least put a condom on, but it just seemed like you both were breaking all of the rules that you established to begin with. 

Harry didn’t falter. The moans that escaped you were much more intense than what the masseuse was pulling out of you and a sense of pride overcame him. He leaned over you now, chest pressed against your back as his lips hovered near your ear. 

“You’re mine, you know that?” He whispered, nipping at your earlobe. 

“Y—Yes,” you answered. “I’m yours.”

“And I’m yours,” he said softly. 

Harry pulled out of you abruptly and turned you on your back. He kept your legs spread open for him before he slid back inside. Lowering himself until his nose brushed against yours, Harry whispered again, “I’m yours, baby.”

Harry was dressed in a lightweight black crewneck sweater and a white linen pants. He was staring at the polaroids that were scattered on the kitchen counter, a small smile lining his lips. There was a part of him that knew that maybe he crossed a line earlier today—calling you his and making you say it too wasn’t something he planned. 

It was just… an intense moment. 

He also didn’t expect to get jealous over some man that you wouldn’t even think about looking twice at. He wasn’t sure what that meant, what this meant, because the more time he spent here with you, the more he started to look at you differently. 

Harry heard the sound of your footsteps from down the hallway and he turned his head to look in your direction. Instantly, he felt his throat go dry as his mouth parted in surprise. You had stepped out in a white dress with light green and blue floral print on the side of it and halter neck style with crossover straps. No one had ever stopped him in his tracks the way you did this last week.

“Wow,” he muttered. 

You smiled up at him and turned around to give him a full view of the dress. He cleared his throat when he noticed the cowl backless part of the dress. He reached out and ran his fingertips along your soft and bare skin and back up. Your hair was in a bun, strands of hair falling out over your face. You were fucking breathtaking. 

“I should thank you,” you said, moving a hand to his chest. “I’ve got a new wardrobe because of you.”

Harry smiled, but he couldn’t help but start thinking about you wearing these clothes for someone else. Someone other than him. “Well, you’re welcome.”

“Do you like it?”

Harry nodded. “You look great.”

“Perfect for dinner on the beach, right?” 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It’s perfect for it.”

“Can you believe we’re almost halfway through this trip?”

Harry nodded. He forced a small smile. “All good things have to come to an end, right?” 

“Maybe,” you answered. “Or maybe… maybe we should just stay here forever. You can work remotely, right?” 

Harry laughed quietly and took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Then, he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. “And what will you do?”

“Oh, I’d be the stay at home girlfriend, obviously.” You said with a quiet chuckle, allowing him to lead you out of the villa. 

“Oh, yeah? You’d just wait for me until I get home?”

“Exactly,” you teased. “I’ll obviously clean around the house, make sure dinner’s ready. All of that domestic stuff.”

“But you don’t know how to cook,” Harry teased.

“Hey! I’ve gotten better,” you laughed, gently nudging him with your shoulder. 

“Have you?” 

“Yes,” you answered. “You’re just too busy to come by for dinner. You just want to get straight to the good stuff,” you winked.

“Can you blame me?” Harry smirked. “Eating isn’t really my main concern whenever I’m around you.”

“Unless…”

“Unless I’m eating you,” he finished for you, leaning over to kiss the side of your neck. You giggled quietly, feeling the brush of his facial hair against your skin. 

“Look at us,” you smiled up at him. “We don’t really have to pretend, do we?” 

Harry glanced over at the set up of the dinner. String lights around the large trees, several long tables, and people already mingling with drinks in their hands. He looked back down at you. Savoring this small moment of privacy with you before having to surround himself with his family. 

“It’s easy with you,” he whispered. 

But what he wanted to say was that maybe he didn’t really need to pretend anyway. 

“Good,” you said softly, leaning up on your toes to lightly peck his lips. “It’s easy with you too, baby.”

Baby. Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He watched you pull away from him only so that you could greet his parents while he stood there, watching you with longing eyes. 

He pulled out his phone for a moment and scanned through his messages until he hovered on his matchmaker’s contact. Opening the message, Harry began typing. He didn’t want to meet anyone else. Harry just wanted you. 

But as he began typing, reality started to settle in. 

The only reason why this was working so well now was because you both were away from the real world. Here, in the Maldives, both you and Harry could just forget about the realities for a moment. But when you’d both get back to New York, this wouldn’t work. 

So, he deleted the message he was going to send and pocketed his phone. 

With a deep breath, Harry forced a smile and walked after you. 

You were at the water, dipping your toes in as you held the end of your dress just enough so that it wouldn’t get wet. In your other hand, you were holding a glass of wine, walking along the beach with Harry’s mother beside you. 

“You and Harry having a great time?” She asked.

You smiled. “We are. I—I can’t thank you enough for allowing me to be here,” you said. 

“Oh, please,” she laughed quietly, looping her arm with yours. “You’re family now.”

“Am I?” You smiled. “I mean… me and Harry—our relationship is still a bit new.” 

“Look,” his mother said, motioning towards the direction where Harry and his father were at. His eyes were already on yours, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a small glass of scotch. “He can’t stop looking at you, honey.”

“Oh,” you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “That’s just—that’s just who he is.”

“Sure,” his mother replied. “But he’s never been like this with anyone else before. Not even with Lucy and he was going to propose to her.”

“Really?” 

She nodded. “Harry—he’s always found love and relationships difficult, you know? He’s a perfectionist too, so his view of a relationship isn’t quite like everyone else’s.”

You nodded in understanding. You assumed his need to have everything perfect might have been one of the reasons why he couldn’t ever settle down. 

“When something would get serious, he’d start nitpicking. Start realizing that the other person was no longer perfect in his eyes. One little thing and it was over… so when he told us he was going to propose to Lucy, I finally thought he was going to settle down.”

“But—”

“But, he didn’t love her.”

You nodded again. “He thought they were perfect for each other.” 

His mother nodded. “He did. On paper, they were compatible.” She stopped for a moment and turned to you. “But he never looked at her the way he looks at you.”

A sense of unease settled in your chest. Here you were, standing in front of his mother, lying to her face about the relationship you had with her son. You felt tears sting your eyes. “It’s just the Maldives,” you reasoned.

She laughed. “Do you love him?” 

“What?” You let go of your dress, not caring if it got wet. “I—I, um—”

“Okay,” she smiled reassuringly. “You haven’t told each other yet. That’s okay,” she said softly. 

You heard her name being called, some of her family members arriving. You nodded down at her and feigned a smile. “Thanks for walking with me,” you said. 

“You bring out a side of my Harry that I haven’t seen in a very long time,” she replied. “He’s comfortable. Doesn’t feel like he needs to carry everything.” 

You nodded, unsure of what you could say. “He’s—he’s a really good man.”

She smiled. “And you’re perfect for him.” 

Then, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving you standing in the water with the ends of your dress now drenched. 

Since your conversation with his mother, you had just continued to refill your glass of wine. The entire family were now seated, laughing amongst themselves, as the food was served. Harry was seated next to you, your chair close to his as you felt the heat of his body radiate against you. He kept his arm draped over the back of your seat, hand brushing along your shoulder as you both ate in silence. 

He was talking to someone from across the table, but you were in your own world. You couldn’t help but think back to your conversation with his mother. The things she said started making you think of Harry differently now.  

He never looked at her the way he looks at you. 

You bring out a side of him that I haven’t seen in a very long time. 

You’re perfect for him.

You’re perfect for him.

You’re perfect for him.

“Hey,” he whispered quietly into your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts abruptly that you flinched. His brows furrowed as he looked down at you. “You okay? You’re… quiet.”

“Yeah,” you answered quickly. “I’m fine.”

Harry nodded. “How’s the food?”

“Good.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah.”

He sighed and turned his body just slightly to face you. He pulled your chair closer to his. “Okay, what’s going on?” He whispered again. 

“Nothing,” you answered. “Can you get me another glass?” 

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Harry answered.

You sighed. You knew he was right. 

“Are you… are you uncomfortable?” He asked quietly.

You turned to look up at him now. Concern etched on his features. 

“What? N—No, not at all.”

“Then, what?” 

You shook your head and reached up to cup his cheek. You feigned a smile and lightly pecked his lips. “I’m okay, Harry. Really.” You pulled back to look up at him. Still, he wasn’t buying it, but he knew now wasn’t the time to get into it. 

“Okay,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” you lied. 

Then, another man from across the table chimed in. He looked to be a younger than Harry, maybe closer to Peter’s age. He was dressed in a white button up shirt, sleeves folded to his elbows and you could tell he already had too much to drink. 

“So, how did you two get together? I was expecting Lucy,” he laughed.

Harry straightened in his seat. His hand dropped from the back of your chair only to rest it on your thigh. “Lucy didn’t work out.”

“Ah,” he said. “So, this is the rebound.”

He tightened his jaw. You moved a hand over his. 

“Did you bring anyone here?” You asked, tilting your head. “Because I don’t see anyone with you.” 

His cheeks reddened. “No, I didn’t bring anyone.” 

“Right.”

An older woman, likely this man’s mother, gently smacked his arm. “Be nice, Carlos.”

“Sorry, mama,” he muttered. “Sorry, Harry.” 

You leaned against Harry and slowly ran your thumb over the back of his hand. You felt him relax next to you. Carlos’s mother looked between the two of you with a soft smile before she raised her glass for her son to refill. 

He did without hesitation, standing from the table and walking away.

“I’m sorry about him,” she said. “You know he gets.”

Harry sighed and nodded. 

“You two—you look good together,” she smiled.

You looked up at Harry, only to find him already staring down at you. “I’d hope so,” you teased. 

She laughed quietly. “Harry, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this smitten before,” she said. 

You cleared your throat. Again, you thought back to what his mother said. Did everyone else see it but you? 

Harry felt his cheeks flush. He looked away from you for a moment and shrugged a shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he said softly. “Why wouldn’t I look smitten?” 

“Well, she is beautiful,” she agreed. “But you’ve been with beautiful women before. You’ve just never looked at them the way you do her.” 

Harry pulled his hand from your thigh. It felt like he just got caught. He couldn’t look at you, especially now that someone else—someone who didn’t know you—said the same thing his mother had told him before. 

“Ah,” you smiled. “I must be special then,” you teased.

Harry finally looked at you. “You are,” he blurted out.

Your brows lifted. 

Everyone around the table swooned and awwed. 

“Your mother said that this all started at a coffee shop?”

You nodded, slowly looking away from him. “And then, I asked him out to dinner. Right, baby?”

Harry nodded. “She did. It’s one of the things I love about her—she goes after what she wants.”

You stiffened next to him. 

He did too.

One of the things I love about her…

It slipped.

Harry didn’t meant to say it like that. 

“Kissed him that night too,” you said softly, forcing out quiet laugh. 

Everyone at the table chuckled. 

“What do you love about him?” Someone asked.

You cleared your throat. You hesitated before looking up at him. “I love… I love how selfless he is. He always makes sure that the people he cares about is taken care of.”

Another person at the table grinned. “Sounds like you’d be a great father, Harry.”

Your eyes widened.

Harry’s jaw clenched. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled nervously. “Maybe one of these days, but not anytime soon.”

“Well, you aren’t getting any younger,” someone said.

You looked over at him. 

Harry was about to say something before soft music began playing. He let out a shaky breath and felt relief wash over him once everyone from the table stood and walked towards the sound of the music. That left you and him sitting at the table, the topic of conversation now lingering between the both of you.

“Sorry,” he whispered. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Are you okay?”

You nodded.

“Are we okay?” 

You sighed. “Harry—”

“If this is too much, you need to let me know. That was one of our rules.”

“Doesn’t feel like we’re following our rules anymore, don’t you think?” You blurted out. 

Harry’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Nothing.”

He sighed. 

Peter called your name. 

Then he called Harry’s. 

The both of you looked away from each other to glance up at Peter who was dancing slowly with Charlotte. 

“Join us, you two lovebirds!” He called out. 

“We’re good, Peter!” 

You shook your head. “We should dance.” 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“We still… have to pretend.”

He nodded. “Right, okay.” 

Harry stood from the table and extended a hand out for you. You slid your hand into his and felt him lead you towards where everyone else was. Slowly, Harry pulled you to his chest, one hand on your lower back and the other keeping your hand close against him. Your free hand moved to his shoulder as you stared up at him. 

Peter chuckled next to the both of you, shaking his head at how lost you two were in each other’s eyes. 

There are days I wake up and I pinch myself You're with me, not someone else And I'm scared, yeah, I'm still scared That it's all a dream

Harry kept you close to him. He leaned down and rested his forehead against yours. Unshed tears glistened in your eyes as you stared at him. The both of you swayed to the song, everyone at the dinner now fading away until it was just the two of you.

When you say You love the way I make you feel Everything becomes so real Don't be scared, no, don't be scared 'Cause you're all I need

“Thank you,” he whispered. “For doing this. For agreeing to it all.” 

“I’d do anything for you, Harry,” you said quietly. You blinked a few times, tears now trickling down your cheek slowly. He moved his hand from your own to gently wipe your tears away, lightly pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

And you still look perfect as days go by Even the worst ones, you make me smile I'd stop the world if it gave us time

“You’re crying,” he said softly. 

“I’m not.”

He sighed. “Baby…”

All my life I thought it'd be hard to find The one 'til I found you And I find it bittersweet 'Cause you gave me something to lose

“I don’t deserve you,” Harry said, his voice trembling. 

“Yeah, you don’t,” you teased.

He smiled, relaxing instantly. Harry moved both hands to lock together at your lower back as he pulled you against him. “What if… what if we don’t ever have go back to New York?” 

“What?” 

“I can work remotely. You can be my stay at home girlfriend,” he answered 

You smiled.

So did Harry. 

You moved your cheek to rest against his chest, eyes falling shut as the song continued to play in the background. 

'Cause when you love someone You open up your heart When you love someone You make room If you love someone And you're not afraid to lose 'em You probably never loved someone like I do You probably never loved someone like I do

Later that night, when everyone had gone back to their villas, Charlotte was sitting at the edge of her bed, staring down at the message on her phone. 

Peter stepped into the room and tilted his head. 

“What is it?” 

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. Charlotte forced a smile and turned her phone off. “Ready for bed?” 

“Yeah,” he smiled, climbing into the bed and pulling her with him. “Did you see Harry tonight?” 

She nodded. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this before,” Peter chuckled. “Wanna bet that they’re gonna get engaged soon?” 

Charlotte looked over at him. “Peter…”

“What?” 

“Harry’s signed up with Adore, did you know that?” 

His brow furrowed. “No, why would he be with Adore?” 

“Lucy—she said that he’s got like five matches and that his matchmaker’s already got dates scheduled for when he gets back to New York.” 

Peter tightened his jaw. “Are you fucking serious?” 

“Do you think she’s lying?” Charlotte asked. “I told her that he was here with someone else and—and well, maybe she’s lying?” 

“She better be,” he whispered. “Because Harry isn’t a cheater.” 

“And what if is the truth?” She whispered. “God, he’s gonna break her heart.”

“No,” Peter shook his head. “I’ll—I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning. You take her out for breakfast or something.”

She nodded. “For what it’s worth, I hope Lucy was lying.”

Peter sighed and grabbed his phone, sending Harry a quick text about tomorrow. His older brother gave him a thumbs up as a response. “We’ll figure it out.”

“I think he loves her,” Charlotte added. “And I don’t think he’s told her yet.” 

Peter looked down at her. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“And maybe it’s because of this, because of Adore.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Let’s just… try and get some sleep. We’ll figure everything out tomorrow.” 

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The Winner Takes It All | 13: State Of Grace

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Chapter summary: You and Harry decided to adopt a child. The decision seems just right when you meet a special someone.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Chapter warnings: adoption, foster care, drug addiction mentioned, sex mentioned, nudity, angst, language, past miscarraiges mentioned, fluff

Words: 8.4k

Notes: Hi! Again, I’m so sorry for the delay, but I hope over eight thousand words will make up for it. I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Please, do not copy my work. Thanks!

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„You’re adopting a child?” Cassandra gasps delighted after you just told her about it.

You came back from Bahamas few days ago. Now, you meet with your friend for a coffee at her place. You missed her so much and the excitement about the adoption is just spilling out of you.

„Yes! Well, first we’ll become foster parents probably. They won’t give us a child just like that.”

„Jesus, that’s amazing! I’m so happy for you.” She leans in to wrap her arms around you. You laugh absolutely overwhelmed. Since your talk with Harry about adoption you almost can’t stop smiling. You don’t remember when was the last time you were so happy. It’s like the hope moved back to live in your heart.

You relish in the hug, feeling the honesty flowing from your friend. She was with you through all the ups and downs. She helped Harry and his mom when you were depressed after your miscarriages. She sat with you in silence, because that was the only thing you were able to do then.

So now that Cassie sees you so happy, talking about adoption? She’s excited for you.

„You’re gonna be an amazing mom, you know that?” She leans back, looking at you with affection.

„I hope so… I don’t want to be like my mother.”

„Hey.” She grasps your shoulders. „You are nothing like her. Nothing.”

„I know, but… I’m just scared.”

„It’s normal, but try not to spiral, okay? I bet Harry won’t let you anyway.” Cassie smirks. „Besides, does your mom know about the adoption?”

„Oh, of course not.” You huff. „I don’t talk to her since…” you take a moment to remember. „The last time she called me was on Christmas, asking why didn’t I come to her Christmas Eve party. She was so pissed when I told her she didn’t even invite me. That was the night I decided I’m fed up with it… Spent Christmas Eve just with Harry and his family. They love me more than my own anyway.”

You recall how sad you got after that phone call. Your husband held you as you rambled about anything wrong your mother did through all your life. And he just sat silent as you let it out. You were so upset you wanted to skip the party at his parents’. But he convinced you to go… And the moment you entered the Castillo house, you never felt more at home.

„I’m sorry, sweets. Your mother is a bitch.”

„Yeah, but, I don’t mind anymore. I finally learnt to live without her approval. I just want to focus on my own family.”

„I still can’t believe you and Harry are doing this.” Cassandra grins. „Me too! Last night Harry did research and read me all about adoption process.” You chuckle.

You don’t miss the way your friend looks at you. The way the corner of her lips lifts when she sees your loving expression as you talk about your husband. She remembers your crisis, she was there to kick his ass and tell him he screwed up. But now?

Seeing you two together, going strong after everything you went through is beautiful.

And she has no doubt you and Harry will make wonderful parents.

In the evening, you come back home to find your husband already here.

You can tell by the noises from the kitchen.

He’s cooking.

It’s not like he’s a bad cook. Absolutely not. Everything he does is delicious. It’s just the way he cooks… The kitchen afterward looks like a battlefield.

Just like now.

„Hey, baby.” You say with raised eyebrow as you walk in to the kitchen. It’s a total mess. Pots and dishes everywhere. Spoons on the marble counter, spotting it with some sauce he’s cooking. The vegetables halfway through cutting.

„Hi, darling. Expected you a little later.” He smiles at you nervously over his shoulder.

You chuckle and approach him, wrapping your arms around him from behind as he stirs something in the pot at the stove. You take in his scent, cologne mixed with a hint of sweat and cooking. But you don’t mind, you just want to hug your husband.

„That’s so nice.” He breathes, relaxing a bit under your touch. He seems a bit on edge here… „Do you need help?” You smirk and he instantly turns to look at you. So much relieved. „Would you?”

That draws another chuckle out of you. „Of course. You don’t have to do it alone, I’m here.”

You quickly wash your hands and step up to help him cook. Harry always has the best intentions, but you both know he’s dealing better with high-risk investments than with a burning Béchamel sauce.

But you’re still quite surprised. Usually he handles everything well. You don’t remember the last time you saw him this stressed. You sense maybe it has something to do with work. He just came back to the office after your holiday. Comebacks like this might be stressful. Especially when it’s Castillo Holdings worth almost two hundred million dollars.

„You okay?” You look at him from the side as you start cutting a pepper.

„Ugh, yeah… Rather not talk about it right now.” He says, drying his hands with a cloth.

„Oh, okay. Let’s just finish it then. It’ll go faster together.”

And it’s true. Soon you have stuffed peppers in the oven and can clean up after cooking without nerves. You rinse the dishes and Harry loads them into the dishwasher. He wipes the counters as you set the table ready. It’s a nice teamwork you worked out through many years together. And tonight? Harry recognizes how thankful he is for it.

„Okay, so now.” You grab his hands as everything is clean and ready, waiting for the peppers to be baked. „Tell me, what is going on. You seem pretty tense.” As you say it, you run your hands up his arms, feeling how his muscles lack their usual looseness.

Harry exhales heavily.

„Just… Pete fucked up a deal while we were gone. A big one. Mother’s pissed. I’m even more. Today the owner of the firm we wanted to buy came to my office, literally threatening me with a lawsuit.”

„Oh, shit.”

„Yeah, I just… I’ve dealt with similar things many times, but… This one just got to me, you know?” He rests his hands on your hips, pulling you few inches closer. „We just were on this amazing holiday and now I got immediately thrown into a shitstorm like this. We’re planning a family and actually the last thing I want to worry about now is this damn company.”

That’s the moment it gets to you. It’s not the work. It’s the priorities.

„I just realized that… Why does it matter? The never-ending chase after money and investments… I’m getting tired. I catch myself rolling my eyes at the interns who panic over some discrepancies in the numbers like the world could end because of them. All I really want is to be with you. At home and getting ready for our kid.”

Your gaze softens. You didn’t expect a confession like this. But you understand him well.

„I get it, baby.” You whisper, leaning in to hug him. He doesn’t oppose, just pulls you in with a sigh of relief. „I think, I’m just getting too old for this. I crave something… peaceful.” He mumbles against your temple.

„You’re not old. You’re still gonna be a first-time dad.” You smile, trying to cheer up the atmosphere. Your husband chuckles and looks down at your pretty grin. Damn, he’ll for sure never get tired of this.

„Yeah, guess you’re right.”

The oven beeps, letting you know the stuffed peppers are ready. Harry takes them out, telling you to just sit down and relax. You watch him serving the dinner with this quiet efficiency. Even if he’s tired, he’s doing his best for you.

You eat together over the candlelight and a red wine. You tell him about your meetup with Cassie and how she’s excited for you. Meanwhile, he reaches his hand over the table, gently enveloping yours. Your wedding bands catch the soft candlelight. You love this view. Your husband, right here with you.

„When we finish… I invite you to have a bath with your beloved wife.” You smirk from above your glass.

„Oh, yeah?” Harry raises an eyebrow.

„Yes. Clean up and I’ll prepare everything.”

You just want to do something nice for him. He’s always there for you, so it feels only fair to help ease his stress.

Without much talking, you finish eating and leave a kiss on his head as you head to the master bathroom. „Be there in ten minutes.”

As you’re alone in the bathroom you instantly start preparing a relaxing bath. Fill the tub with hot water. Add lots of Harry’s favourite sea salt, a bit of ylang-ylang oil that creates a very nice, exotic scent around. Finishing it up with your vanilla body wash. You also light up some more candles around. You created a very intimate, calming atmosphere. Just like you planned.

Then you quickly get rid of your clothes and wrap yourself in a silk robe, waiting for him.

The specious bathroom fills with soothing steam. The bathtub in the middle is already full with water and foam. The city’s lights shimmer outside the big window, but your penthouse is tucked away so high… You feel like no one can catch you here. Then… you hear footsteps.

The door open slowly. Harry enters and like magic, his shoulders instantly sag. „Well, well, well… isn’t it a sight for sore eyes?” He bites his lip seeing you in that robe, surrounded by soft scents and steam. An absolute perfection.

You walk up and peck his lips delicately. „Mind if we get rid of this?” You tug at his t-shirt.

Your husband doesn’t protest, just takes it off over his head in a smooth motion.

„And this…?” You hook a finger through the belt loop of his jeans.

„Yes, ma’am.”

He quickly unbuckles his belt and shrugs the pants off. Just a single raise of your eyebrows tells him to also get rid of the socks and boxers.

Once completely bare, you can head to the tub.

„Hop in.” He says, but you keep standing on the side. „No, you first. This time I get behind.” You smile sweetly.

„What? Why?”

„It’s you who need to relax, get in.”

After another second of doubt Harry gives in. He sinks into the warm water and sighs in relief. He really needed that. „Woah, maybe you want me to go?” You giggle.

„Shut up and get in here.” He grumbles with obvious amusement.

With a roll of your eyes, you settle in behind him, pulling his larger frame against your chest. Your limbs wrap around him from behind as he finally lets himself relax. The feeling of his weight on you like that is one of your favourite things. You pepper the side of his neck with kisses and another soft exhale leaves his mouth.

„Damn… Feels really good.”

„I know. This is just for you. You’re relaxing Mr. Castillo.” You whisper.

Harry loves the way you wrapped yourself around him. Loves how your hands gently smear his skin with the vanilla foam. His muscles go slack beneath your touch and he can’t help the pleasurable, low hums that sound from him. He feels absolutely taken care of and you’re happy you could give that to him.

„My hardworking husband.” You press your lips to his earlobe. „I love you so much.”

„I love you, too, darling.” He breathes.

Then your hands get underwater to massage the knots, you’re sure he has in his lower back. As soon as you touch there he growls half in pain, half in relief. You huff under your breath and keep going until he slowly relaxes there as well.

„Jesus Christ, you have angel’s hands.” He says. Then your lips find his neck again, kiss on the back and then higher, up to the side, until you nip at his earlobe. Harry tilts his head back with a curse slipping out. „Fuck.”

„Good?” You whisper, continuing.

„Baby… It’s incredible. But if you don’t stop, we might have a problem. Well… we already have.” He breathes.

You know exactly what he means. You sneak your hand around to his front. You slide it down his sculpted chest and through the softness of his stomach… And lower… Until you find him already rock hard . Your husband hisses when you grip him, squeezing just enough.

„I don’t think it is a problem.” He can feel your smirk against his skin.

„Fucking menace.”

You stroke him few times causing some filthy groans escaping his mouth. You have a good look at his profile. At the way his eyes remain closed, lost in pleasure. At how his face softened because of you and what you’re doing.

„Baby, please, let’s switch… Wanna see you... And have you sit on it.” He pants.

„Nuh-uh. Tonight it’s just you and your pleasure. I’m fine like this.”

Your kisses continue on his exposed neck as your hand keeps stroking him agonizingly slow. You want to draw this out, make him tremble in your arms. Harry bucks his hips up into your touch and you’re very satisfied with the way he seems desperate for more.

Usually he’s the one guiding, always focusing on your pleasure. It’s good to see the roles reverse sometimes. Keep the balance and give him the same attention he gives you.

It doesn’t take long until he comes beneath your touch. Completely spent, completely satisfied. Now, all his muscles are relaxed and the tension from the day forgotten because of the bath you prepared for him.

Harry, though, being a pleaser he is, doesn’t like the idea of you not getting anything. That’s why after leaving the bathroom, all soft from the hot water, you’re thrown onto the bed. Your legs opened widely for your husband to dive in between them and show you how thankful he is for a wife like that.

***************************

Few days later, Harry and you contact the foster care agency. You learn about the requirements and the system. All this makes both of you nervous, but also so hopeful.

It finally feels right.

You do realize that applying to become adoptive parents doesn’t mean you’d get a match instantly. The system focuses on helping the families first. After experiencing loss like you did, it’s making you a bit anxious. Because what if they match you with a child and then take it away, back to its real parents? Scenarios like that happen.

But you try to remain hopeful, sincerely believing this time the fate is on your side.

So, you submit the application.

„Where is our marriage certificate?” Harry calls from his study. When you enter you see him crouching, searching through all the documents in one of the desk cabinets.

„Ugh… Somewhere?” You say, also not sure where it might be. Your husband glares at you. „We need to find it for our application.”

„I know, I know. Let me.” You say, approaching him. Yes, there is a lot of different papers here, but not the one you need. You sigh as your fingers rummage through them.

„We need it.” Harry says again, clearly nervous. Clearly caring about the adoption and its smooth process.

You’re not sure how long you two spend buried in the documents, but finally...

„There!” You shout excitedly as you hold the marriage certificate in your hands. You proudly show him the document. It became a little competition here, who finds it first. And you won.

„Baby, you are a genius.” Harry sighs in relief and pulls you in with a smile, not caring about all the other papers scattered around the floor. „Does it earn a kiss?” You grin. „Sure it does, future mama.”

He presses his lips to yours, pouring all his relieve and anticipation in that kiss. You’re both smiling like idiots, because now that you found the last document needed for the application… Nothing will stop you.

The weeks pass and anticipation flows through you. Every sound of phone ringing you hope it’s from foster care. You try not to get ahead of yourselves, but it’s hard when you can already picture a family life you might soon have.

„Would you like a boy, or a girl?” You ask Harry one day over a lunch. He took you out during the working day to Claire’s. Your favourite bagel spot.

„Honestly? It’s not so relevant to me… I’ll be happy just having the opportunity to be a dad.” He answers with a shy sincerity. Your eyes soften.

„Of course, me too. The gender doesn’t really matter. I’m just so excited… I keep wondering who we’ll get matched with.”

„I get it. I keep waiting for this damn call from the agency. It’s frustrating it takes so long.” He sigs, having a bite of the bagel. „When they call we can start the training sessions.”

„Can’t wait.” You grin.

After lunch, Harry offers a walk through the nearby park. He’s not so eager to go back to work just yet. Holding hands, you make your way through gravel path, relishing in the nature in the middle of the bustling city.

You love quiet moments like this. Harry next to you, sun shining above… Nothing bothers you. You feel a weird peace filling your body. Healed and ready for another step.

Your husband notices your contentment and can’t help the smile that slowly blooms on his face. He’s right where he wants to be. At your side, watching how again you’re full of that inner light.

God, how he missed this.

„Maybe I’ll just stay home after dropping you off.” he says and you chuckle.

„Harry, baby, you have to show up at work sometimes.”

Lately, he really tries his best to stay home. It’s like that since your talk in the kitchen few weeks ago. You’re aware work is hard on him and he feels pressured to be there. You noticed his priorities change.

It’s in the way he moves slower.

Or in the way he holds you a bit tighter in the night.

„Never expected it’ll get to a point you will be telling me to leave for work.” He chuckles and you also see the irony. „Well-” You start, but are cut off by his ringtone. Both of you stop in the middle of the path. Birds chirping match the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat. Is it…?

Harry takes it out of his pocked and spares you a single glance before picking up.

„Mr. Castillo? Your application has been accepted.”

***************************

You and Harry started your training sessions for adoptive parents. There’s a group of couples like you and with a qualified social worker, you learn about children and how to act in different situations. Adopted kids often experienced trauma, or are moved from house to house, which can cause attachment issues. These sessions are supposed to help you understand them better.

Both you and your husband take this very seriously and engage in the classes eagerly. It’s obvious that it’s important for you to know how to react around your future kid. It’s really humbling, lessons like that. And they only make your desire to give someone a loving home stronger.

At the same time, when you attend the classes, your caseworker also conducts a home study.

She checks all your documents, income and your background.

Then…

She visits your penthouse.

Harry absentmindedly strokes your arm as you both observe your caseworker. She just entered your home and now walks around just looking.

„We have everything provided.” Your husband starts. „Smoke detectors, medications are kept away from child’s reach…”

„I would like to see those.” She says.

„Sure.” You smile and lead her along with your husband.

The visit is stressful. You have no idea how you’re holding up so well. You keep glancing at Harry, checking if he’s as nervous as you. He is.

This is a big deal. When you pass this and the next few visits, and interviews… You will be officially allowed to adopt a child.

After the caseworker saw the safety-concerning stuff she focuses on another step of the visit.

„And where is the place to sleep for a child?”

„Oh, we have a room prepared.” Harry says and leads her down the hallway, holding your hand. She watches everything cautiously. You all stop before the door, which is right next to your master bedroom one.

„We sleep right here.” You point at it. „And the child could sleep here.”

Turning the knob, you open the door to a very bright, cozy room. It’s big, walls white and there’s a king-sized bed by the wall.

„It is a guest bedroom, but we will change it. Arrange it according to the child’s needs.” Your husband says. The caseworker smiles, walking around. She stops by the floor-to-ceiling window that shows the whole Manhattan.

„Well, isn’t it a nice view.” She says.

„It is.” You breathe relieved, because the visit seems to go well so far. You catch the same look in Harry’s eyes and he grasps your hand again, pressing a tender kiss to the back of it. Your caseworker notices that.

„You’re married for… five years now?”

„Yes. Six in September.” You lift the corner of your lips.

„Can I know why did you decide to adopt?”

„Oh, we…”

Harry notices you stiffen. Despite everything, this topic is still difficult for you. So he steps up. Squeezes your hand in reassurance. „We wanted to be parents for a long time. The fertility treatment didn’t work, so… the only reasonable option for us was to adopt. We want to give someone a loving home.”

The visit continues. Caseworker asks you more questions about your lifestyle, or how do you picture raising your child. There are many of them, but you feel perfectly prepared. Nothing scares you, not even the questions like ’How do you handle disagreements?’ or ’How would you react for a child’s tantrum?’. You answer all of them.

She sees you are good people. The love bonding you and Harry is palpable and strong and you seem capable. It’s always a positive sign. Actually, you make ideal adoptive parents.

The way she says goodbye tells you your first home visit went well.

As the elevator door shut behind her you both can finally exhale.

Harry looks at you, making sure you’re okay before he pulls you into his arms with a smile.

„I think it wasn’t that bad.” You say hopefully.

„It wasn’t. I think she loved us.”

„God, I was so nervous… And when she asked about our therapy, I thought it’ll be over…” Despite your best efforts, your brain starts to overthink every single interaction with the caseworker.

„Baby, I never heard that marriage counseling disqualified anyone from adoption process. And she saw we are more than fine now. Don’t dig into it too much, okay?” His lips brush the tip of your nose affectionately. „Yeah… you’re right. We have to remain positive.” you take a deeper breath in.

This adoption might be your only way to have a child. Your biggest dream. The atmosphere in your house is nervous, but not the way it was when you were trying the infertility treatment. Then… you were drifting apart. Hurting alone.

Now? It’s an anticipation. Anxiety — yes. But the kind that says it might turn out okay this time. The one that feels safer and steady. You have documents to fill in, sessions to attempt. It feels controlled.

And that’s exactly what you needed.

A sense of control.

„I love you, so much.” He whispers, his eyes locked on you with the same, deep feeling.

„I love you, too.”

„We’re getting closer to our baby.” There’s this hopeful glint in his gaze. „I’m so happy we’re doing this.”

„I can’t wait. I already picture it running around here.” You rest your head against his chest, pressing your cheek to his heart. You observe the specious living room. Too big for the two of you.

You imagine toys scattered around on the carpet, apple juice stain on your vintage armchair, cartoons playin on a TV all day… You imagine you’ll show your child all your favourite movies, like Up, or Mary Poppins… You imagine building forts on thunderstorms, or reading bedtime stories.

For a second, when you’re just standing and looking in silence, your husband thinks about the same things.

Harry pictures how he’d chase your child around, playing tag. Or how he’d hold it to sleep… He imagines listening to it rambling about what happened at school, or it giving him drawings of your little family.

Perfection.

And you’re sure, soon you’ll finally make your wish come true.

***************************

It happens one lazy, Wednesday morning.

You’re sprawled out on the bed. Face buried in the pillow as your husband gently strokes your bare thigh. He bites his lip, because you wear one of those short nightdresses he adores so much. The edge rides up just enough.

He should get ready for work, but… he can’t get himself out of bed.

Not when you’re lying here all delicious and soft.

It would be a crime to leave.

„Harry.” You mumble sleepy. „Coffee.”

He chuckles at your grumpy state. Yeah… you didn’t get much sleep last night. And he bets you feel sore. But the way you moaned his name was worth it. He could die hearing only your voice.

„On it, baby.” He presses a loving, lingering kiss to your head.

He’s about to stand up when his phone rings. At first, your mind is too overtaken with slumber, but then Harry pats your thigh. You lift your head just to see his widened eyes. He hasn’t picked up yet, waiting for you to see.

„Is that…?” You ask and when he nods, your reaction is immediate. Sitting up rapidly you move to sit as close to him as possible. „Oh my God. Pick up.” You say.

„Hello?” Harry says, pressing his phone to his ear.

„Mr. Castillo? This is your caseworker. I’m calling to tell you we may have a match for you.”

The moment you overhear it, your heart stops.

A match.

„You mean… a child?” He chokes out, staring at you, sharing the same excitement and hope as you. You grasp his hand, squeezing tightly, searching for solace of his touch. His warm skin grounds you in the way it always does.

„Yes.” She laughs softly. „I will send you her profile, but I can tell, her name is Grace, she’s two years old. Adorable girl. She’s with a foster family now and waits for a permanent home. Kids her age are our priority.”

„Grace…” you whisper to yourself, tasting the name on your tongue. The way it sounds soft, but at the same time has this powerful unit in it. Grace.

„That’s… Of course, we are interested to find out more.” Your husband says, now it’s him who squeezes your hand.

It’s been few months since your application got accepted and you finished your training.

You can officially try to become someone’s parents. Grace’s parents.

„Fantasitc. You have more information on your email. I’ll see you soon, too. So we can talk about her more and maybe plan the first meeting.”

„Yes, that’d be great. Thank you. That’s really amazing news.” Harry says, now fully grinning, looking at you.

„Have a good day, Mr. Castillo.”

„You too. Goodbye.”

The moment he hangs up you glue yourself to his side to have a good view for the profile of the little girl. Harry grabs his tablet from the nightstand and opens the email.

Name: Grace.

Age: 2 years old.

Current location: Foster Home.

Legal Status: Eligible for adoption.

The next thing you see are photos.

Your breath catches.

She’s the most perfect girl you ever saw.

The first thing you notice is the smile. Wide in a way only a child can have. Then her big green eyes. Sparkling with curiosity. Her delicate, blond hair windblown on the picture. She’s on some playground, grasping tightly a giraffe plushie.

„Harry…” you breathe amazed.

„She’s…” He stutters.

Why you suddenly felt it? Both of you. Just one look at her and you knew you want to be hers. She could turn around your whole world.

She could become your whole world.

„Absolutely perfect.”

***************************

Next days are focused solely on getting to know everything you can about Grace. The meeting with your caseworker goes great and she scheduled you to meet her.

Your possible adoptive daughter.

You and Harry learnt that despite her young age, Grace already went through so much. Her biological father is dead. Her mother is a drug addict, who just gave up her parental rights. Grace was neglected, her needs weren’t met in her first home. Her mother didn’t take care of her, choosing drugs over the only daughter.

Foster care took Grace and since then she’s waiting for a real, loving home.

Oh, and how desperate you are to become it.

Today is the day when you first meet her.

Harry sits on edge in his office, glancing at the clock every five minutes. He hates that he has to be here now, instead of at home, soothing your nerves and his own, too.

He waits for his brother. He called Peter to come see him, because he made another damn mistake.

Harry’s pissed. He doesn’t want work to destroy one of the most important days in his life. But his baby brother doesn’t make it easier for him.

As Harry sighs in frustration the door open, and his brother walks in. All smiles, not even a drop of concern, or a sense of guilt.

„Hey, brother. This is the big day, yeah? You’re meeting the child.” He says, closing the door and sitting in front of him at the desk. Harry tries really hard not to roll his eyes. But his jaw is clenched, first sign he is not in the mood.

„Yes, leaving after three.” He mutters. „But that’s not why you’re here. We ain’t gonna talk about family and how happy you are for me.”

„Woah… someone didn’t sleep well.” Peter says, but his smile fades the moment Harry slams his hand flat agains the desk.

„Man-”

„I didn’t sleep, because I had to fix your mess. Once again.”

„Oh. Listen, before you-”

„No, you listen.” Harry’s voice is cold, with that sharp edge he rarely shows these days. But when it’s about business and his freedom? He’s gonna use it, even if it’s his own brother. „You closed the deal with Tanaka without having anyone double check the accounting! We overpaid seventy fucking million, Peter. All because you were too focused on the profit that now you may not see at all.”

Pete looks at his brother with frustration. He’s aware he messed up, but he hates when Harry is like this.

„How was I supposed to know the bastard hid the real revenue? You made deals with him many times!”

„Yes and I always checked him, because I don’t trust the guy. Rightfully so as it seems.”

„You can’t be mad at me for this. If you don’t trust him so much, you wouldn’t have me handle this deal.”

Peter stands up and starts circling around the specious office. Harry watches him, his anger only increasing at the way his brother seems to blame him.

„I trust you, you dickhead!” Harry stands up as well, the tension growing with every second. „I trusted you to handle this deal well. You wanted to be treated more seriously in the company and you fucked up!”

„Jesus Christ, it happens! You fucked up many times, too, brother. You don’t remember that anymore, huh? Of course, you don’t. Great, all-knowing Harry Castillo! You always treated me like I’m worse, so I don’t understand why you put me in charge of a whole deal! I never did things like that and suddenly I have to, and when I fail you’re mad?!”

„I put you in charge, because I want you to take over, for God’s sake!”

That makes the room pause. Brothers look at each other. Peter’s confused. Harry… Harry is just tired. Tired of this argument, of this job. Of being in charge of everything. He finally said something that weighted on his heart for long.

„I gave you more work lately, because I wanted to prepare you. You’re a bright kid, I always knew that. I wanted to check if it wouldn’t overwhelm you.”

„What?! You want me to take over?” He huffs.

„Yes. I’m not sure if just partly, or if I would sell you some of my shares… I don’t know, but-”

„Are you crazy? What, you got bored of being the CEO? It’s some kind of a joke on me?!” Peter is not buying it.

Harry is the oldest. Harry always has been the smartest, sharpest mind from both of them. Their parents weren’t favoring him, but it could always be felt. This slight imbalance. Younger Harry was so eager to work in his mother’s company. His biggest dream was to become a CEO, in charge of everyone.

So… What the fuck happened?

„It’s not a joke, just listen to what I’m saying. Don’t act like a brat about this-”

Harry’s sharp words are interrupted, by the door opening. Both him and his brother glance your direction.

You came to his office, because soon you have a visit at a foster care center with Grace. You certainly didn’t expect to hear from the hallway him and Pete yell at each other.

„Guys, what’s going on? The whole floor could hear you.”

Harry was already frustrated enough, he didn’t need you to witness his outburst.

„It’s nothing. Go wait outside.” He responds, harsher than he meant to. „Harry, whatever it is I could…” you try.

„Stay out of this. Go outside.”

Suddenly all your good mood dropped, shattered with his cold demeanor. It’s been long since he was like this. You actually forgot he is capable of such behaviour. And you’re mad he chose this exact day to be an asshole.

Without another word, you turn on your heel, leaving the brothers alone in their fight. You’re clearly unwanted there.

It takes few seconds of silence for your husband to realize he fucked up now, too.

He looks at Pete, who now seems resigned. Pissed, but also hurt. Fuck.

„We will go back to this conversation later.” Harry just says and grabs his jacket from his chair to rush after you.

You’re already on your way to the elevator. If he’s acting like a jerk, you’ll get to the centre by yourself.

„Darling! Baby, wait!”

Harry doesn’t mind the people sharing looks as he almost runs to get to you in time. When he’s close enough he grasps your elbow, gently tugging you into a stop.

„I’m sorry.”

„Yeah, you should be.” You say hurt. The elevator door slide open. Harry follows you inside, glad for some privacy in the metal tube.

„I was mad at Peter. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you… I’m so sorry.”

You look at him, your arms now crossed over your chest. The regret in his eyes is obvious. But it doesn’t make your feelings disappear.

„What was this even about? You never fight with Pete.” You ask and he sigs, resting against elevator’s wall. „I… He fucked up the deal. We lost money… I got mad, because… Well, I put him in charge of this, because I wanted to check if he could… take my place.”

That does it.

The crease between your brows softens as you suddenly remember that one evening when Harry told you he’s tired. You thought it was maybe some moment of weakness. You never expected him to actually take some steps towards it.

„I didn’t tell anyone. Not him, not you… And especially not my mother. I just wanted to be sure first. And now… it all went to shit.”

„Harry…” you reach your hand to rest it on his arm.

„You know, he thought I was joking? He said that I always thought of him as worse than me…” Your husband looks down. Anger replaced with remorse. „Is that true? Did I treat him like that?”

„No. You didn’t, baby. He’s the part of the company since I know you. And you always asked about his opinions about stuff… I get why he feels like this, though. It’s a younger sibling thing.” You crack a faint smile and that is when Harry looks at you.

You’re the younger sibling. You can see Peter’s perspective.

„Just give him time. You dropped a bomb today.” You add.

„I didn’t mean to. I wanted to do everything right… And instead I ended up fighting with him and hurting you.”

The elevator door open at the underground garage floor. You step out of it and head to Harry’s car. He tentatively grasps your hand.

You’re not sure if this touch is welcomed yet. He was mean. He almost ruined the day that is so important for both of you. You stop in the middle of the garage. There are many cars here, but no alive soul except you two.

„I just wanted to help. You said once that I’m the part of this company, this family, too. And up there I didn’t feel like it.” You let out what’s been on your mind since then. And Harry? He curses himself in his mind.

„I know. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right. I didn’t want you to see me like this, I guess… And I was already so pissed with Peter… I promise it won’t happen again.” He kisses your knuckles, almost worshipfully.

„We’re going to see Grace today and you acted like this…”

„I know… I messed up. But I’m okay now. No more shouting, or being mean. I’m sorry, darling… Today is important to me, too. I should have kept myself in line.”

You sigh. These days you can’t stay mad at him for too long. His soft, puppy-like eyes make it impossible. You step closer, invading his space, just to wrap your arms around his neck. He exhales relieved and keeps you right against his chest.

„I’m sorry, love.”

The sincerity flows out of his words. You feel it in the gentle way he holds you, or in the faint tremor in his voice. You rarely ague since you ended your marriage counseling long time ago. So every time that it happens? It’s like a bullet for either of you.

„It’s okay… We’re okay.” You whisper.

„Thank you.” He kisses the side of your head. „Let’s go meet our girl, alright?”

***************************

You step into the foster care center. The anxiety flows in your veins, but you’re beaming with excitement.

Will she like you?

Will she even notice you? You heard sometimes kids ignore new people.

Will she play with you? Smile at you?

Will she despise you?

All those questions swirl in your mind and Harry stares ahead like he shares exactly the same thoughts. You forgave him his outburst. Because you believe seeing Grace is more important than some fight.

You’re in this together.

„Mr. and Mrs. Castillo.” Your caseworker greets you. „It’s good to see you.”

„Good afternoon.” You smile, gripping Harry’s hand tighter.

„Grace and her foster mom are in our playroom. Shall we?”

„Yes.”

You follow her up the stairs and into a colorful corridor. She stops by one of the windows that has a view into other room.

Your husband and you look this direction and your hearts nearly stop.

She’s there.

There’s a woman sitting on a couch, watching… her.

Little Grace sits on a carpet and plays with wooden blocks. She’s smiling to herself, wearing pigtails and cute overalls. All cuteness and perfection. You can’t comprehend how someone could not want her. Leave her for a cruel fate to decide if she gets to have a loving family, or not. It’s just not right.

At the sight of her, all the anger Harry felt in the office today melts. Now, just deep adoration lives in his chest, easing his tired soul.

„As you can see, Grace is manually skilled for her age.” The caseworker says.

„Harry…” you breathe amazed, unable to draw your gaze away. He pulls you into his side, arm wrapped around your shoulders. „Can we meet her already?” He asks, you can hear the emotions he can barely keep inside.

That’s the moment when Grace’s foster mom gets up and leaves the room to greet you. She seems nice. Open and warm. That’s a good sign. You wouldn’t like to find out Grace isn’t taken care of properly in the foster house too.

„Hello, I’m Tanya.” She shakes your hand first, then Harry’s.

„Nice to meet you.”

„So, you already can see Grace.” She smiles. „We call her Gracie, though. And I suggest you call her that, because she is more familiar with it.”

„Gracie. Got it.” You really can’t stop your excitement.

„She may seem like she doesn’t have any bigger issues, but first few months of her life she spent in very bad conditions. It took its toll on her. She’s very shy, so don’t take this personally when she ignores you, or cries…”

„We actually aren’t sure how she’ll react, you’re the first couple we’re introducing her to.” Your caretaker adds.

It’s a moment of reflection for you and Harry. Yes, meeting your possible adoptive child is exciting. But you need to remember she is just a tiny human who went through so much. It is serious.

„We’re gonna do everything to make her feel comfortable.” Harry says and you nod.

Without dragging things out, you’re invited into the playroom. Little girl looks up from her blocks.

„Gracie, honey. You have guests.” Her foster mom says gently and sits on a couch with the caseworker. They’re watching the interaction.

Both you and your husband smile warmly, trying to seem as approachable as possible. You lower yourselves onto the carpet.

„Hi, Gracie.” You say and give her your name. The little girl is looking at you, but doesn’t make any move that would suggest she is open to a contact.

„I’m Harry. We… have something for you.” Your husband makes an effort. You grab a small duck plushie from your purse. It’s yellow and smiling at her. Reaching your hand out with it, you wonder if she’ll respond.

„Here. It’s for you.” You say.

Gracie’s gaze is focused on the animal. For a second you notice her hesitating. She stands up and for a second it looks like she will approach you. But your hope is thrown away the moment she just toddles towards Tanya. Little girl hugs her legs, burying her face against the material of her skirt.

Your heart shatters at the sight. You knew it won’t be easy, but still… You really hoped she’ll like you since the first second you walked in.

Harry feels the lump in his throat forming. He keeps repeating in his head that it’s not over. That one reaction doesn’t ruin your chances with Grace. But it still hurts.

„Gracie… you don’t want the duckie?” Tanya tries. „Look, it’s smiling.”

The girl glances your direction again. You decide to set the plushie on the floor before you, giving her a choice. Harry rests his hand on your knee. Both of you try to be patient and not lose hope.

„Duckie.” Gracie mumbles. It’s the first time you hear her sweet voice. You share a look with your husband.

„Yes, honey. You can have it.” Tanya adds gently setting Gracie on her feet again, encouraging her.

Grace stands there looking at the plushie and then at you. She observes Harry and his stubble with curiosity. She observes your shining jewelry.

She takes small, hesitant steps closer. Every step she glances back at her foster mom to check if she’s still there. She is. Tanya only smiles warmly to keep her positive. Harry pushes the duck forward to Gracie.

The girl grasps it with her tiny hands and watches it closely from every side. It’s nice and soft. Perfect for a two-years-old.

„Duckie.” She repeats.

„Yes, sweetheart. You like it?” You try again, your voice as gentle as possible.

Gracie looks at Tanya again and then back at you. „I like.”

That gets smiles from both you and Harry.

Gracie toddles away, back to her wooden blocks. She sits and then sets the plushie right next to herself. It’s like it is accompanying her now. Adorable. You don’t want to overwhelm her, so you just remain where you are.

It’s really a meaningful moment in your life. Being here and meeting Grace. Neither you, nor Harry want to mess it up.

For a moment she just ignores you, sitting and building a tower from blocks. You start to feel unsure. She took the duck, but what if that’s over?

Harry keeps his eyes on the little girl, a smile keeps ghosting on his lips, because he just can’t stop it. Then her block tower falls over. At first, she just stares at it, but then you can hear a soft sob leave her mouth.

Harry acts like it’s natural, because he already hates the sound of her sorrow. Carefully he scoots closer to her on the carpet.

„Hey, Gracie… Ugh… It’s alright, we can build another one.” He says, glancing at the caseworker and Tanya. They just watch silently, letting him try. „Look.” He puts some blocks together. „Towers fall all the time.” He pushes a small one he just built. It falls and he gasps playfully. That makes Gracie’s attention shift to him. Harry repeats his action and he can’t believe when it draws a laugh out of the little girl.

A laugh.

He made her laugh.

You’re watching it from behind, because suddenly you feel hesitant. You wanted this meeting so much, but… God, you hate the anxiety that’s eating at you.

What if she doesn’t like you? Does she feel a weird vibe from you? Or maybe Harry is just better at being a parent?

„You wanna build together?” Your husband asks Gracie. „Yes. Tower.” She says.

But he senses your withdrawal and he’s not having it. He turns slightly, reaching his hand to you. „Come on, darling. We have a tower to build.”

You swallow, gaining some courage to join them. Grasping Harry’s hand you scoot closer as well. Gracie is right next to you, her little fingers wrapped around the wooden block.

„Can I?” You grasp another block and put it on the tower that’s forming. Gracie is watching carefully, but then her eyes focus on your engagement ring. Big, shiny ring.

You didn’t even mean to wear it today, thinking maybe it’s too much. But now, seeing her admiring the stone? You’re so glad you wore it.

She lets go of the block and reaches for the ring. You feel the relief flooding your body.

„Oh, you like it? It shimmers.”

„Shimmer.” Gracie smiles and it’s the first time she touches you. She does it to watch the ring, but it’s still such an extraordinary feeling. Her skin is so soft. She rests her hand on yours, brings her face closer to the diamond. Harry chuckles, sitting at your side.

„I get it, I like jewelry, too. Harry gave it to me.” You say.

„Can you say ‚Harry’?” Your husband smiles. The girl looks at him.

„Harry.” It sounds so sweet from her mouth. Her spelling of ‚r’ isn’t great yet, but it’s cute. You love the way she is slowly warming up to you.

„We build.” She adds pointing at the tower, losing interest in your ring.

„Yes, sweetheart, let’s build.”

You spend some time just putting the blocks together, not saying much, just letting Gracie set the pace. It’s amazing how she already has both of you wrapped around her little finger.

You see her shyness and the way she still glances towards Tanya. Your heart is bleeding, thinking how much she’s been hurt. You already know, you’d do anything to make her happy for the rest of your life.

The first meetings are always the hardest, but yours went pretty well. Gracie liked you even if she didn’t interact too much. You decide not to overthink it, just let it be. She’s little, she needs time to adjust. And you’ll do just that.

You leave the building with Harry holding your hand. You’re both silent, thinking about everything that happened in the playroom. How Grace run off to Tanya at first. How she tentatively reached for the duck you gave her. How she giggled when you and Harry read her a short story in funny voices.

You think about her golden pigtails, about her cute, but a bit sad gaze. Kids should not have this kind of gaze at this age. It’s reserved for adults. And the fact she still laughs despite everything? That little girl is so strong.

„She’s special.” Your husband finally breaks the silence. You stop to look at him and he notices tears in your eyes. „Oh, baby…”

„I really want to be her mom.” Your voice cracks.

Harry reaches to your face, brushes the tears away with his thumbs. He sniffles, trying heard not to cry as well. It’s incredible how she overtook your hearts in less than an hour.

„We’ll do everything in our power to become her parents. I swear to you.” He kisses your lips then. Slowly and full of that hopefulness that he carries since you left the center.

You went through all that pain in your life, but now it all makes a bit more sense.

You just waited for her.

For a little, blond girl who loves stories and giraffes.

For Gracie.

And nothing will stop you from being hers.

***************************

next chapter

A/N: As always, thank you for reading. I’m not sure if I’m satisfied with this chapter, but I hope it was okay. Let me know if you liked it in the comments and how you liked our Gracie! Cheers🩷

Taglist: @palomavs @negrita2345 @jothenurse91 @chewie-bars @ivoryandflame @perpetualharpyresonance @alyloops @mamustreads @misstokyo7love @picketniffler @inept-the-magnificent @jasminedragoon @callmebyyournick-name @victoriaholland @oh-thats-cute @sophx58 @lilacs97 @mrsjosephmazzello @orcasoul @vickie5446 @callittrueblue @maryfanson @dendulinka6 @sunnytuliptime @pascalgf @cuteanimalmama @yourfavouritecrime

[gothcsz]

Summer Affair: Part 1 | Harry Castillo x F!Reader/“You” | ~5.1k Word Count

SUMMARY: Harry reluctantly extends his stay at a luxurious oceanfront resort. In the sun-drenched glamour of Monte Carlo, he meets you by the resort pool, where an afternoon of flirtatious conversation and cocktails sparks an instant connection.

RATING: M.

TAGS: No use of y/n, reader has the nickname (Sol) that is used sparingly, reader has a tattoo, meet cute kinda, summer vibes, setting up the story, whirlwind romance, making out, no smut in this chapter but there are erotic things happening, lots of flirting, first dates, infidelity (reader is married), they’re having fun and drinking by the pool, skinny dipping, if I forgot to tag anything else please let me know, more tags found on series masterlist.

A/N: hello everyone! welcome to the summer vacation of our dreams ☀️ i’m really excited to share this fic with you all! i hope you like the first chapter 🖤 reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated, thank you for reading!

P.S. series masterlist. read on ao3. header credit to @/devociones.

It was never going to be an ordinary day.

Harry knew that the moment the sweating executive across the table began rambling about everything except the answer to his very simple question.

“We invested ten million dollars into this project,” Harry says, his voice carrying the authority of a man who has built business empires out of nothing. “Where did it all go?”

The man stutters, fingers nervously adjusting his glasses.

It thins Harry’s patience, already razor-thin after two days of half-truths and expensive lunches that led nowhere.

His brother, Peter, smoothly steps in, guiding the conversation into friendlier territory until the cowardly businessman finally admits the investment was mismanaged—but promises they will generate the profit needed to repay them and move forward with the project.

“We’ll believe it when we see it. Our lawyers will be in touch.” Irritated by the endless bullshit, Harry rises from his seat without another word.

He strides out, leaving Peter behind to close the meeting with a touch more professionalism.

In the lobby, Harry scrolls through his phone, arranging his private flight back to Manhattan.

The entire trip has been a waste of time and resources. A reminder that most people only want to take advantage of his family’s money and name. 

They had suspected the money was being mishandled from the start. Harry had pushed to send the legal team and be done with it, but his brother had insisted on this face-to-face meeting just in case things weren’t what they seemed.

So much for that.

Peter appears a moment later, loosening his tie with a sigh. “I knew you were tense, but I didn’t think you’d let him see it.”

“He was wasting our time and I have a loaded schedule waiting for me stateside,” Harry mutters, falling into step beside him as they exit into the golden morning light.

The sun spills generously over the area, bathing the elegant streets in warmth and turning the sea beyond into a glittering expanse of sapphire. 

They slip on their expensive sunglasses as the valet brings around their luxury antique car.

“You know,” Peter adds casually “there’s a beautiful oceanfront resort not far from here. Private beach. Incredible views. You could stay a few more days.”

Harry lets out a short, dry chuckle. Is he serious? “And do what? Have a spa day? Get a massage?”

“Yes,” Peter grins. “Stop spreading yourself so thin and have some fun.”

Harry rolls his eyes, tongue pressing against his cheek.

Fun. The word tastes bitter.

The last time he let himself do just that, the woman he was seeing left him for her broke ex.

Ever since, he’s buried himself in his work, which isn’t necessarily too different from how involved he usually is.

However, with his mother’s retirement looming on the horizon, he intends to be more than ready to step into the role of Chief Executive Officer; which means he’s been picking up extra responsibilities within the company.

Security and control—those are things Harry Castillo understands, and he can’t let something as trivial as having fun distract him from the bigger picture of his career.

Their car glides to a smooth stop in front of them. The young valet hops out and Peter tips him generously before they both get in.

“All I’m saying is things are in good hands back home, so if that’s what you’re worried about, don’t be,” he continues as he buckles his seatbelt. “Ever since Lucy—”

Harry shoots him a sideways glance, but his brother ignores it entirely.

“Ever since you came back from Iceland, you’ve been so rigid. It’d be good for you to loosen up and get out of your head before the promotion takes over your life.”

Harry rolls the window down, letting the warm sea breeze rush in, scented with summer itself.

The beautiful streets of Monte-Carlo unfold around them: whitewashed buildings draped in vibrant bougainvillea, shops and restaurants pulling in the morning crowd.

Since the breakup (mutual as it was) he has grown more guarded, more rigid, as Peter so eloquently put it.

Overworking himself during the day has kept him distracted enough, but at night in his penthouse, with a glass of chardonnay in hand, Lucy’s absence has carved out a hollow space inside him.

For the first time in his life, he feels truly heartbroken. It serves as a stark reminder that romance is a risk he no longer cares to take.

It’s easier to approach relationships like long-term investments rather than an actual, intimate connection.

They stop at an intersection. Peter nudges him, pointing toward the scenic coastline.

“Look at that view,” he whistles, adjusting his sunglasses. “Who wouldn’t want to get lost in that?”

The water sparkles under the sun. People lounge on the sand, others swim in the shallow water, and a few yachts drift lazily in the distance.

The beauty of it appeals to him more than expected. He supposes his brother has a point—the last few months have been nothing but long days filled with grueling business meetings and lonely city nights.

Maybe a few days of doing nothing in paradise won’t actually kill him.

His decision crystallizes in that moment.

“For once,” Harry says, a small smile tugging at his lips as Peter laughs in triumph, “you might be right. It is very beautiful here.”

“There are worse places to be.”

Harry hums in agreement, pulling out his phone and canceling his flight back to New York. 

You’ve been mostly inland for the past month—wandering misty green hills in Ireland, chasing history through the UK, and slowly making your way down to the stunning French Riviera.

It has been the kind of trip that rewires your soul.

Now you’re in Monaco, kicking off the coastal chapter of your long awaited summer escape. 

The views here are almost too beautiful to be real. Water stretches endlessly toward the horizon and pastel buildings cascade down the hills like something out of a painting.

You can’t wait to lose yourself in it.

Right now, you’re laying out on a plush lounger beside the resort’s infinity pool, bikini hugging your sun-warmed skin.

Headphones in, your favorite summer track pulses softly in your ears as a light sheen of sweat kisses your collarbones and thighs.

You’ve been out here for hours, lazily sipping mimosas until the world has taken on that perfect, fuzzy glow.

God, you haven’t felt truly peaceful in… well, longer than you care to admit. 

Between the endless hours at your interior design firm, the partnership with your husband and his brother that blurred every line between work and home, and the slow unraveling of your four-year marriage… you’d forgotten what it meant to put yourself first.

This trip is your rebellion. Your indulgence. Your chance to be gloriously selfish for once.

With a contented sigh, you slip one earbud out and push your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head. 

The bright Mediterranean light makes you squint as you lazily scan the pool area. It’s perfectly balanced—not too crowded, not too empty. 

Most guests cluster near the bar on the far side, laughter and conversation drifting across the water.

That’s when your gaze catches on him.

A handsome stranger is already watching you. Tall, dark curly hair, confident posture even while leaning against the bar.

His eyes are kind and intense at the same time. You don’t know how to feel about it.

You offer him a polite smile.

He returns it, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that sends a small spark of interest through you, before he turns back to the bartender.

The heat is starting to cling too heavily to your skin. You rise gracefully, stretching your arms overhead, letting the sun worship every inch of you for a moment.

You adjust the strings of your bathing suit, then pad around the edge of the pool and dive in with a smooth, clean entry.

The cool water is pure bliss. It swallows you whole, washing away the morning’s warmth as you glide beneath the surface.

When you break through, you push wet strands of hair from your face and smile to yourself, savoring the way the water caresses your skin.

You swim a few lazy laps, rediscovering the rhythm of your strokes. You haven’t swam properly in years.

Eventually, the craving for something sweeter pulls you toward the submerged swim-up bar.

You swim to the smooth ledge and settle onto one of the underwater stools, ordering once you get the bartender’s attention.

“Coconut mojito, please.”

The resort is everything Peter mentioned and more.

Harry checked in not much longer after that car ride with his brother, changing into swim trunks and a light button-down, heading down to the pool with no real plan except to sit in the sun and remind himself he’s still capable of relaxing.

He ordered a tequila sunrise at the bar, the sweet burn of it loosening the knot at the base of his neck.

That’s when he saw you, and he swore his heart stopped for just a split second. 

You were laying there completely oblivious, enjoying the early afternoon so at ease that Harry almost envied how serene you looked.

And the bathing suit you have on? He kept his gaze respectful, but the pull in his gut was immediate. 

Then you made eye contact, smiled at him, and that was enough to get the man’s resolve to crack just a little bit.

You’re absolutely gorgeous.

Harry didn’t approach you or anything like that, obviously, since he’s not here for complications. Just a few quiet days to breathe before diving back into the labyrinth of his family’s empire.

So he decided to lounge at the bar in the water, taking off his button down before getting in and making small talk with the man behind the tiled counter as he waited for his drink.

But now… here you are. Sliding onto the space right beside him, water droplets tracing shimmering paths down your shoulders.

He’s already three—no, four—tequila sunrises deep. Liquid courage has a way of making him disregard his stance on making a move.

“You can charge it to my room,” Harry intervenes smoothly when the bartender turns to prepare your drink.

You glance over, one eyebrow arching in pleasant surprise.

The light catches the small hoops in your ears and the layered necklaces resting against your collarbone. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

You flash him that same smile from earlier, the one that made his pulse jump.

Up close, you’re even more striking—curves accentuated by your bathing suit, skin glowing with a thin layer of sunscreen.

The bartender returns with your cocktail. You thank him softly, then lift your glass toward Harry in a cheerful toast.

He mirrors the motion. Your glasses clink under the bright blue sky.

“Mmm, delicious,” you murmur after the first sip.

Harry wonders if that's an invitation to indulge in small talk.

It is.

“Is that your go-to order?” he asks, turning slightly toward you, the cool water lapping gently at your waists.

“No,” you answer, leaning forward against the colorful bar top, your gold jewelry gleaming with every small movement. “I’m usually an espresso martini girl, but I’m trying to break out of my routines. What about you?”

You nod toward the vibrant orange drink in his hand. “What are you drinking?”

“Tequila sunrise,” he says with a small grin. “Not my usual either. But it felt right for this setting.”

You take another slow sip through the straw, the mint and lime bright on your tongue. “So what is your usual?”

“A rich bourbon on the rocks.” His eyes drift briefly to your lips as you hum in response, licking a stray drop from them.

The motion is innocent, but it sends heat curling through him.

“Here’s to trying new things,” you say, raising your glass again with a mischievous glint in your eye.

You clink once more, and this time Harry can’t look away.

With the way the afternoon sun paints everything in gold and rose and how the distant laughter of other guests provides ambient background noise—it all feels like the opening notes of something… delightful.

“Do you usually stare this hard,” you tease lightly, “or do I have something on my face?”

Harry feels the faintest blush creep up his neck—completely out of character for him. He’s usually quick with a charming retort or flirtatious compliment.

He blames the tequila… and you.

“Sorry,” he replies with a soft chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just find you to be a very gorgeous woman. Your partner is a lucky person.”

You tense for the briefest second, but you brush it off with an easy giggle. “And what makes you think I have a partner?”

“A beautiful woman like yourself? Surely someone has already made their move.”

Your eyes narrow as you study him, reading the confident lines of his face, the expensive watch glinting on his wrist, the kind warmth in his deep brown eyes.

The way you’re looking at him sobers Harry up just enough to realize he might be coming on too strong.

“Well,” you finally break the small silence, leaning in a little closer. 

The scent of chlorine, coconut sunscreen, and something sweetly flora hits his nose and it makes him feel a little lightheaded. 

“Someone is making their move… and I think he thinks he’s bombing it entirely.” You can’t help but tease. “He isn’t, though. But he could buy me another drink if he really wants to make a good first impression.”

Harry blinks, momentarily stunned. Then realization hits like sunlight breaking through clouds—you’re flirting back.

A slow, genuine smile spreads across his face as he straightens his posture and flags the bartender with newfound confidence.

“Another round,” he tells the man, not taking his eyes off you. “And keep them coming.”

The rest of the afternoon stretches lazily, conversation flowing as easily as the drinks.

For the first time in months, Harry feels the walls he’s built around himself beginning to melt under the warmth of your presence.

And you—lost in the freedom of this trip and the magnetic pull of this charming stranger—start to wonder just how far this unexpected spark might take you.

Eventually, Harry suggests moving to a shaded cabana nearby, and you happily agree.

The two of you settle into the oversized daybed draped with crisp white linens. The sheer curtains flutter lazily in the sea breeze.

As you get more comfortable, friendly touches linger just a second longer than necessary—his fingers brushing yours when passing a drink, your knee grazing his thigh as you shift closer.

The chemistry is hard to ignore.

You lean back against the cushions, legs tucked beneath you, and swirl the straw in your drink with a teasing smile.

“You know, I thought all billionaires were supposed to be pretentious and complete assholes. So far, I’m not getting that from you. Like, at all.”

Harry chuckles, moving closer, his brown eyes catching the sunlight as he rests one arm along the back of the daybed.

“That would be an accurate assumption. We are pretentious and assholes.” He says, truthfully. “I just happen to be aware of it and know when it’s best to let those unfortunate characteristics shine.”

He gives your figure a suave once over. “Sitting here with a beautiful woman doesn’t seem like the best time to be pretentious or an asshole, does it?

You take a slow sip from your mojito, deliberately holding his gaze. “Smooth talker. Do you practice answers like that in the mirror, or do they come naturally like the private jet?”

“Naturally. Especially when you look at me with that sparkle in your eye and in a bikini that should come with its own warning label.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, but you don’t look away.

Instead, you bite your lip, tilting your head with a flirtatious look.

“Warning label, huh? Please. Nothing mischievous about me. I’m just here to soak up the sun and forget real life exists for a while. You, on the other hand...”

You reach out and lightly tap the center of his chest, right where his shirt would button if it were fully fastened.

“Might not be an asshole but you do have that whole ‘I negotiate with fate itself’ energy about you. I bet you even schedule spontaneous moments in your calendar.”

His grin dimples, a playful challenge sparkling in his eyes as he leans in a fraction. “Guilty, but I’ll have you know that I canceled my flight back home on a whim. That’s practically rebellious for me.”

You raise your glass in a toast. “To rebellion... and learning how to be at ease.”

He clinks your drink gently against his, the ice chiming like a secret promise.

“This might just be the best detour of my summer yet.”

The breeze stirs the cabana curtains again, wrapping the two of you in the sweet tension of a budding romance.

Eventually, the sun begins its slow descent, painting the sky in rich strokes of tangerine and deep violet.

“What’s your name, by the way?” Harry asks, realizing only now you haven’t properly introduced yourself with how wrapped up you both have been in the easy conversations.

You giggle softly. “We really skipped right past that, didn’t we?”

“If my mother were here, she’d scold me for not introducing myself properly,” he extends a large, warm hand toward you. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry,” you repeat, letting the name roll off your tongue like you’re tasting it.

You slip your hand into his, noting how perfectly it fits, feeling the buzz from the sun and drinks and now his touch. 

“I’m…” You glance down at the small sun tattoo on your wrist before meeting his eyes again. “I’m Sol.”

“What a beautiful name.”

“I’ll make sure to thank my parents on your behalf.”

Harry’s laugh is genuine and rich, paired with an easy smile that softens the frown lines of his handsome face.

“Well, Sol, forgive me for being too forward… but I would love to take you out to dinner tonight.”

Whatever this is—he doesn’t want it to end when the sun sets. Contrary to how gloomy and pessimistic he’s been about romance as of late. 

Your eyebrows shoot up in delighted surprise. “Tonight? As in, tonight tonight?”

“Not sure what other tonight there is, but yes. Only if you’d like.”

You bite your lip, the white rum humming pleasantly through your veins as you weigh the invitation.

Harry is unlike anyone you’ve met in a long time. Charming without trying too hard, confident but not arrogant.

Talking to him feels dangerously easy.

Part of you whispers that you should keep this light, enjoy the afternoon and walk away with a perfect vacation memory to tell your girlfriends back home over brunch. 

After all, he’s returning to New York soon, and you’re only at the beginning of the second half of your summer escape and in the middle of a very messy separation. 

But those eyes… those deep, kind, captivating eyes are making it nearly impossible to say no.

With a pretty, tipsy smile, you nod. “I’d love that, Harry. How about we meet in the lobby at eight?”

He tries—and fails—to hide the spark of excitement in his expression. Glancing at the expensive watch on his wrist, he notes the current time.

“That sounds perfect.”

With that, you get up to gather your things. Harry helps, also grabbing his belongings, and both of you walk back into the building together.

“I’m looking forward to dinner. Thanks for this afternoon… It was very fun.” 

Fun. There’s that word again. If Peter were here right now, he’d be saying I told you so in varying boastful ways.

“As am I. Thank you for indulging me.” 

You flash him another dazzling smile, and with that, both of you part ways.

You meet in the lobby at eight o’clock on the dot, the soft glow of chandeliers twinkling over the marble floors of the open area.

You’ve chosen a flowy summer dress in soft coral that makes your body look delectable, a fresh bikini hidden beneath for whatever the night might bring.

Keeping your makeup as natural yet accentuating as possible, you’ve made sure to apply your favorite lip gloss and sprayed just enough perfume to be that more alluring. 

Harry is waiting for you near the grand entrance, looking effortlessly handsome: a crisp light button-down rolled at the sleeves, tailored shorts, and his usually slicked-back curls now loose and fluffy.

In his hands rests a thoughtfully arranged bouquet of pink summer roses, delicate lilies, and cheerful daisies—perfectly color-coordinated as if he put meticulous care into choosing every bloom.

The sight of him makes your stomach flutter. Goodness, he really is so hot.

“You look incredible,” Harry compliments once he sees you, his warm brown eyes lighting up with obvious appreciation of how effortlessly gorgeous you look as he offers you the flowers.

You accept the bouquet with a genuine smile, inhaling the sweet floral scent. “These are beautiful, Harry. Thank you.”

He offers his arm like a true gentleman, and the two of you stroll down toward the private beach path, the distant sound of waves growing louder with every step.

“Where exactly are we going?” You can’t help but ask, taking in how beautiful the coastline looks at this time of night.

“It’s a surprise.”

He’s rented a secluded cove just for the two of you. When you arrive, your breath hitches in your throat.

A beautifully arranged beachside picnic waits under a canopy of sheer white fabric that billows gently in the breeze.

There’s plush cushions and a low table overflowing with vibrant summer fruits—ripe peaches, berries, slices of mango—alongside an elegant spread of fresh seafood, crusty bread, cheeses, and chilled wine. 

Lanterns flicker softly, casting gentle shadows across the sand as the waves foam against the shore.

“This is… possibly one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me,” you admit without thinking, a little breathless as he helps you settle onto the cushions.

Holy shit.

Harry’s smile is modest but pleased. “Good. That was the goal.”

The dinner unfolds like a scene from a romance movie. You talk for hours as stars pierce the clear night sky.

He tells you about growing up in New York, his love for the energy of the city but his quiet craving for serene moments like this. He’s glad his brother talked him into extending the trip.

You laugh at his dry humor, tease him about being a secret romantic, and flirt shamelessly in return. Your husband doesn’t cross your mind once.

When he asks about your life, you keep things intentionally vague: a few charming stories from your travels, your passion for design and beautiful spaces, but nothing that might pop this perfect bubble you’ve found yourself in.

Two bottles of expensive, crisp white wine disappear between shared bites of food.

It loosens your limbs, drawing you closer to him on the cushions.

Harry’s hand rests on your bare knee. It makes you shiver despite the breeze that flows by being warm.

Your head rests against his shoulder as the night turns more intimate.

He turns to you, his face inches from yours, eyes dark with want.

“Have you ever wanted to do something so impulsive,” he murmurs, gaze falling down to your glossy lips then back up to your eyes. “that it makes you wonder if you’re really as brave as you thought you were?”

You let out a soft sigh, the question hitting closer to home than he could ever possibly know. “Yes.”

He studies your features for a moment, then asks: “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering with words, you lean in and press your lips to his.

It starts tender but quickly ignites, all that pent-up longing you’ve both been carrying in your respective lives pours out between you.

You climb onto his lap, straddling his thighs as your flowy summer dress rides up around your hips. Harry’s hands instinctively settle on your waist, gripping you with a quiet groan of approval as you settle against him.

Your fingers thread through his curly hair, tugging lightly as the kiss deepens passionately. Harry responds with equal fervor, one hand sliding up your back while the other grips your thigh, pulling you flush against him.

Your bodies move together instinctively. Tongues dance, teasing and tasting wine and summer on each other’s lips.

You rock subtly in his lap, feeling his swelling erection against your inner thigh. It makes the pulsing at your core intensify. You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this desired.

His hands roam freely now; tracing the curve of your waist, skimming over warm skin beneath the thin fabric of your dress, thumbs brushing dangerously close to the edge of your tied bikini.

When you finally pull back, you repeat his earlier question back to him with a playful smirk. “Have you ever wanted to do something so impulsive…?”

You have him completely at the edge of his metaphorical seat, every nerve alive with anticipation.

His lips are swollen from your playful nips. “Yes.”

Without warning, you rise from the picnic setup with a wicked grin

You slip out of your dress, letting it pool at your feet and revealing the stunning silhouette of your body. 

His eyes widen in a mix of surprise and desire as you peel off your bikini top and toss it playfully at his chest, exposing your chest to him.

Harry’s mouth goes dry.

You kick away your bottoms and skip toward the moonlit ocean, your laughter ringing like music across the sand.

“C’mon! Don’t make me swim alone!”

He doesn’t hesitate long after that. Harry strips down and joins you in the warm, silky water. 

He can’t believe he’s doing this. Just this morning he was ready to sign off the idea of letting loose for good… and then you appeared and completely swept him off his feet.

Naked skin meets naked skin as the gentle waves lap around you both.

Harry presses his broad body against yours, hands sliding down the slick curve of your waist, gripping the soft swell of your hips, then gliding up to cup your breasts.

You moan softly, throwing your arms around his neck and angling yourself to kiss his lips.

A low groan vibrates from his chest and into your mouth as your hardened nipples brush against his skin with every sway.

One of his hands drifts lower, possessively squeezing the fullness of your ass, pulling you tighter so you can feel exactly how hard and ready he is for you.

And holy shit is he packing a very generous package. 

“As pleasurable as I imagine it would be, I can’t sleep with you tonight, Harry.”

He’s so dizzy with lust that it’s almost disorienting. “That’s fine. There are no expectations. However, I am only human…” He says in regard to the hard on he’s currently sporting.

“Trust me, I feel it too in my own way.” You bite your lip and pull away before things escalate.

You’re not sure you want to cross that line just yet—but he’s making it seem very, very enticing.

To keep things playful, you splash him with a cheeky wave of your hand then immediately try to wade away.

Harry is a lot quicker. His strong arm loops around your waist, pulling your slippery body back against his chest with an amused laugh.

While holding you firmly in place, he retaliates with a splash of his own, sending sparkling droplets cascading all over you.

You squeal with laughter as the two of you playfully wrestle in the waves, all tangled limbs and breathless giggles under the stars.

The walk back to the hotel feels like you’re floating.

Harry’s hand rests lightly at the small of your back as you stroll along the string-lit path. The night air is perfumed with sea salt and night-blooming jasmine.

You feel like you’re in a modern fairytale.

Every touch sends sparks up your arm, shared glances carrying the delicious weight of everything that just happened between you in such a short amount of time.

When you reach the lobby, you turn to face him, cheeks still warm.

“I had an amazing time tonight,” you tell him softly, meaning every word. “Truly. Thank you for everything.”

Harry steps closer, his brown curls more prominent now from the texture of the saltwater.

“Truth be told: I’m not ready for this night to end. I want to keep seeing you… if you’ll let me.” His voice drops, laced with quiet hope that you want to continue whatever the hell this is. “May I have your number? So we can stay in touch while you’re here?”

You hesitate for half a second—your real life flickering somewhere in the back of your mind—but the pull of this amazing man and the rejuvenated summer version of yourself tugs you from those thoughts.

You give him the number to your flip phone (the burner you bought specifically for this trip) and he programs it into his phone with a boyish grin that makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. 

Then leans in and kisses you.

It’s sweet, feeling like the beginning of something far bigger than a fleeting summer fling… even if neither of you vocalizes it.

“Goodnight, Sol,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

You slip away from him, the bouquet of flowers cradled gently in your arms. You step into the waiting elevator and press the button for your floor, your eyes never leaving his until the mirrored doors glide shut between you.

Once you’re inside your room, you close the door behind you and let out a soft sigh as you slide down against the wood, knees literally weak.

Today was pure magic. The kind of day you’ll replay in your head for years.

You’re still smiling when you push yourself up, gently laying the flowers down on the console table, and heading toward the shower to rinse the salt from your skin.

That’s when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

Your heart does a hopeful little flip, hoping that Harry has caved already and decided to call you.

Couldn’t even wait until tomorrow… you think to yourself playfully, reaching for the small device. 

But the number on the tiny screen isn’t his.

It’s your husband.

The smile fades instantly. You stare at the phone for a long moment, everything inside you screaming not to answer.

But old habits (guilt, history, the tangled business partnership) win out.

You flip it open.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice flatter than it’s been all day.

“Finally,” his familiar Texas drawl fills the line, tight with worry. “Ain’t heard from ya since you left for Ireland a month ago.”

There’s a heavy silence that follows before he speaks up again. “You okay? Where are you right now?”

“I’m fine.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, the dreamy afterglow of your day with Harry dissipating with every word.

More silence.

“We need to talk about this. I know I’ve been distant but… we built somethin’ real together and I know we can fix it.”

Old resentment bubbles up. “It took me leaving the country for you to finally come to that realization? We’ve been roommates who share a business for the last two years. Not husband and wife.”

He lets out the kind of heavy sigh that used to make you soften and let your guard down.

“I know I’ve let you down. I’ve been putting the job first—hell, putting everythin’ first except us. But I’m here now, trying. Everyone’s been on my ass too, sayin’ I’m an idiot for letting you go on this trip alone. Just… tell me where you are. I’ll fly out. We’ll figure this out together.”

Together. You scoff and close your eyes, the weight of years of trying—and failing—pressing down on you. 

You’ve already grieved this marriage in silence for too long. Important dates he missed, dinners eaten alone, the way intimacy had slowly faded into plain coexistence.

You’re exhausted from carrying the hope for both of you.

“It’s too late for that,” you admit steadily, despite the ache that lingers. “I’m not coming home yet. I need this time for me.”

The line goes quiet for another moment.

“I miss you.”

“I missed you too, but I’m done missing someone who’s right next to me. Don’t call me again for a while, Joel.”

You end the call before he can respond, the finality of it settling heavy in your chest.

Setting the phone down, you finally undress and step into the shower, standing under the hot spray of the waterfall feature.

As eucalyptus scented steam fills the space, your mind drifts back to warm brown eyes, curly hair, and the way Harry looked at you like you were the most captivating thing he’s ever seen.

You allow yourself to sink fully into the possibility of what this summer—and this unexpected man—might blossom into.

A wistful, secret smile returns to your lips.

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[pedroscurls]

blurred lines (pt. 3)

summary: it's day two on the island... and things between you and harry start shifting.

pairing: harry castillo x fem!reader content warning(s): EXPLICIT CONTENT (18+ MDNI), fake/pretend relationship, friends with benefits, two idiots in love and neither of them want to admit anything, sexual tension, lingering touches, harry's family is insanely rich, brief angst (and a preview for what's to come), minimal physical description, smut - fingering, unprotected piv (be safe y'all), cowgirl, missionary, light dirty talk, no use of y/n. word count: 6.2k a/n: harry just has a hold on me y'all, so expect smut (even if brief) in each chapter bc i just can't get enough of him at all. anyway, please enjoy! any guesses on who's going to crack first? ;) pt 2. - pt 4. || series masterlist. || read on AO3.

The following morning, you woke up with Harry spooning you from behind. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept that well or how comfortable it had been. His arm was draped over your midsection, his breaths shallow and hot against the shell of your ear. Luckily, you both were wearing some clothing—him in only his boxers and you with one of his shirts. 

You told yourself that it was because of the alcohol and the location for why you felt so comfortable and rested. 

And not because of the man holding you so close to him like he was afraid to let you go. 

Slowly, you climbed out of bed, careful not to wake him. He moved instead to lie on his abdomen, both arms now coming to rest under the pillow. He was snoring quietly now and it was the first time that you managed to get a good look at him like this. 

How peaceful he looked. 

How the weight of his responsibilities weren’t on his shoulders. 

How fucking handsome he was too. 

You shook your head before your thoughts trailed off and reached for your sleep shorts to slip on. You gave him one last glance before stepping out of the bedroom and shutting the door behind you quietly. 

Walking to the kitchen area, you noticed the card from the villa and dialed the number. You were taken aback at how quickly they answered, asking what you and Harry wanted for breakfast. You looked at the menu and bit your lower lip, ordering a side of scrambled eggs, bacon, an assortment of pastries, and coffee—black for him and a latte for you. 

They excitedly said that they’d be there shortly before you hung up. You looked at the card, eyes widening at what it said. You and Harry had your own butler for the entire stay, anything you wanted, they would be there to give it. 

You sighed. You knew how rich Harry and his family was, but never quite like this. 

You grabbed your camera from the counter and wrote on a notepad in case Harry woke up while you were gone. It was a simple message: Ordered breakfast. Out for a short walk. Be back soon. 

You contemplated on signing off with “Love,” and your name, but decided against it. You glanced down the hallway and noticed the bedroom door still shut before walking out of the villa. 

Harry awoke about ten minutes after you left. He looked around the empty room and furrowed a brow, sitting up and pulling on a t-shirt and breathable sweatpants. He opened the door and called out for you only to be welcomed with silence. It wasn’t until he walked to the kitchen that he saw your note. 

Harry was just about to leave the villa when he heard a knock on the door. He knew it was the breakfast you ordered, so he opened the door and smiled politely at the younger man who held a tray of food. 

“Good morning, Mr. Castillo,” he said with a smile, walking further into the villa to set the food and drinks down onto the kitchen counter. Harry followed eagerly, his stomach rumbling from the smell of food wafting through. He glanced at the counter for a moment, biting his lower lip as he remembered last night’s events. A small smile curled his lips at the thought before he excused himself to get some cash to give a tip. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, sliding a couple of hundred dollar bills into the younger man’s hand. “Smells delicious.” 

The younger man smiled his thanks and then turned on his heel to leave the villa. 

Once alone again, Harry reached for his black coffee and smiled to himself. You knew what he liked and he certainly knew what you liked too because at the sight of your latte, he knew that it’d likely be way too sweet for his liking. 

After a few minutes, Harry reached for his phone and decided to give you a call. He was hungry and he didn’t know how long he could wait. 

“Hey,” you said over the phone. “I’m heading back now.” 

“You ordered breakfast.” 

“And coffee,” you added. “Is it there now?” 

“Yeah, just got here.” 

“Good. Don’t eat without me!”

Harry chuckled. “You know I wouldn’t. It’s why I called. Just wanted to check in to see how long you’d be.” 

“Few minutes,” you answered. “Just went for a walk and took some pictures.” 

“Take any good ones?” 

“I did,” you said. “I’ll show you them when I get back. I’ll see you soon.” 

“See you in a bit,” he replied, hanging up the phone. Just as he was about to set the phone back on the counter, his matchmaker from Adore called. 

Harry glanced at the front door and bit his lower lip, stepping out onto the deck and sliding the glass doors shut as he answered. 

“Hello?” 

“Harry, hi,” she replied cheerily. “I know you’re on vacation, but figured I’d give you a call to let you know some good news.” 

“Right.” 

“You have more than one match,” she said. “And I think having plenty of options gives you more flexibility to choose who you might want to spend more of your time with.” 

“So, date around?” 

“Not around,” she corrected. “Just the list of women I have for you.”

Harry nodded. He glanced over his shoulder and saw you walk into the villa. Your camera was in your hand and you were still wearing his shirt, something that he was sure he’d never get tired of seeing. You spotted him and waved with a grin. 

He forced a smile, waved back, and then turned away from you. It felt like he was cheating on you with what he was doing and the conversation he was having, but Harry needed to think realistically. 

Because after this week, his relationship with you would go back to normal. 

“Okay,” he finally answered. “How many women?”

“Five. I think all could be a great fit, truthfully, but I just wanted to give you a call to let you know that you have options.” 

“Great.” 

“Do you want to stop at five?” 

Harry cleared his throat. “For now, yes.” 

“Wonderful,” she said. “I think it’s a great starting point and each woman has what you’re looking for.” 

Harry sighed. He thought back to Lucy and what she told him about loving being easy. He started wondering what that looked like and what that meant because with you, everything was easy. 

“Does—Does Lucy know about this?” He asked hesitantly. 

The matchmaker replied without hesitation. “Yes.” 

He sighed. “Right, makes sense considering she’s running that company now.” 

“Is that a problem, Mr. Castillo?” 

“No, no,” he answered. “Just making an observation.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” he said quickly. “Please don’t reach out for the remainder of this week, okay? I’ll give you a call once I’m back in New York.” Harry didn’t give her the chance to respond before he hung up the phone. He stepped back into the villa and noticed you reach for your latte, sipping from the mug carefully as you leaned against the counter of the kitchen. 

You were the first one to speak when he pocketed his phone—away from your eyes. 

“Work things?” You asked. 

“Something like that,” he mumbled. “You take any good shots?” 

“I think so,” you smiled, reaching for two plates from the cupboard and setting it on the counter. “We should go for a walk together after breakfast,” you suggested.

“A walk?” 

“Yeah, before all the festivities happen.” 

“First, you want me to swim. Now, you want me to walk,” he chuckled. 

You nodded, grabbing a croissant and some eggs to put on your plate. “You act like it’s the hardest thing in the world.” 

“Well, no,” he sighed. “I just—we don’t have to pretend like we’re together if no one is around.” 

Harry hated himself the minute it left his lips.

Because you looked at him like you had been hurt, like maybe swimming and taking a walk was crossing that boundary that neither of you agreed to. 

“You know what? Yeah, you’re right. I’m gonna eat breakfast outside. You do… whatever you want to do.” 

“Wait,” he said, gently reaching for your hand as you began walking away. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“No, it’s fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “But just so you know, we’re not only fuck buddies, Harry. Two friends can go swimming together… they can go for a walk together.” 

“I know,” he whispered. “I’m just… I’m in my head.” 

“Then, you take some time to figure your shit out,” you said, pulling your hand away and beginning to walk out onto the deck. 

Harry watched you for a moment and sighed, jaw clenching as he turned his back to you. He didn’t know why he was acting like this, why he couldn’t just enjoy the moment and the entire week. He had no concerns now about how the both of you would come across to his family—yesterday showed they were convinced… too convinced about your fake relationship with him. 

And yet, he still wanted everything to go perfectly. 

After about thirty minutes, you walked back inside and set the plate and your mug in the sink. You noticed that Harry’s plate was now empty too. He was sitting on the couch with his phone in hand and you could tell he didn’t want to break the silence first. You caught him looking over at you before turning his gaze away from you quickly. 

You sighed and shook your head. You wouldn’t admit it, but you had a soft spot for him. Always did. 

So, you walked over to the couch and sat next to him. He glanced at you briefly before turning his phone off and setting it on the coffee table. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“You should be.” 

Harry looked at you now. Noticed the small smile on your lips and he felt himself relax. 

He hated the way it made him feel when you walked away, trying to make the hurt he caused. 

“Right,” he muttered. 

“What’s going on? I thought yesterday was a solid day. We convinced them.” 

“That can change,” he whispered. “They could catch on.” 

“We can come up with excuses if they do,” you reasoned. “Couples are allowed to have disagreements and arguments, Harry.” 

“I know that.” 

“I don’t think you do. No relationship is going to be perfect.” 

“But I can try…” Harry mumbled. 

“Good luck with that,” you sighed. “Listen, we have five days left. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was pushing this into something it shouldn’t be.” 

“You weren’t.” 

“I think you’re lying.” 

He sighed. 

“I just want to have some fun,” you said. “And I wanted to have fun with you.” 

Harry’s brows lifted just slightly. He bit his lower lip and nodded. Hesitantly, he reached out to take your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles lightly. 

“Okay,” he replied. “We can have fun.” 

“I know what this is,” you continued. “I know that after this trip, we go back to normal. I’m not expecting anything, okay? We established rules. We both know that we’re not going to work out even if we did give this a try.” 

He nodded.

“I’m just a really good friend who’s helping you out,” you finished. “And someone to have sex with too.” 

Harry chuckled, but he was still holding onto the last thing you said. It started lingering in his mind: 

We both know that we’re not going to work out even if we did give this a try. 

It shouldn’t have affected him the way it did, but he also couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes softened at those words and how it looked like you were contemplating on it too. 

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll… try.” 

You nodded and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I’m going to get ready then. Are we okay?” 

Harry looked up at you as you stood from the couch. He nodded once more and reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips as he pressed a soft and light kiss on the back of it. “We’re okay,” he said. 

He played with your fingers for a moment before letting go. “Don’t take too long.” 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the warmth you felt in the pit of your stomach. “I’ll take however long I want.” 

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, guess that’s fair. You’ll do whatever you want… no matter what I say.” 

You grinned. “You know me so well.” 

Then, you turned on your heel and walked down the hallway into the bedroom. You needed some distance because feelings that you hadn’t ever felt before started surfacing.

It took you about half an hour to finish getting ready. Harry had told you last night that today’s events would mainly be on the water since his parents rented a yacht for the remainder of the day. 

You were dressed in a sleeveless, tan crocheted maxi cover up dress over a black two piece bikini. The dress clung to your curves with a high slit on the right leg. As you walked out of the bathroom, you bumped into Harry whose hands immediately moved to rest on your hips. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Harry’s eyes took you in, licking his lower lip as he kept his hands on you firmly. “I buy this one?” 

“Yeah,” you smiled. “You like it?” 

He nodded. “Trying not to say anything inappropriate.” 

“We’re past that, don’t you think?” 

“Right.” He said quietly, pulling away from you briefly only to give your bodies space. Harry grabbed your hand and twirled you in front of him, biting his lip at the sight of you. “Beautiful.” 

Your cheeks flushed with warmth as you stared up at him, noticing the longing gaze in his eyes as he stared at every inch of you. You leaned in and kissed his cheek lightly, using your free hand to gently pat his chest. 

“I’m gonna be outside for a bit, okay?” You said quietly. 

Harry nodded, but still kept you close, still kept a tight hold on your hand. “Okay.” 

Your head tilted. “Need help getting ready?” You teased. 

Harry’s gaze darkened. “You wouldn’t be helping if I needed to get ready.” 

“No?” 

He shook his head. “I’d rather you help me out with something else.” 

You grinned. “You’re dirty… and already thinking like that this early in the morning?” 

“I wouldn’t consider it early…” 

You leaned in again. This time, you brushed your lips with his and lingered for a few more seconds. “You didn’t want to take a walk with me, so… I don’t think I can you help you out with what you need me to do.” 

His eyes narrowed and he turned you around, bringing you flush back against him. You felt his hardness at your lower half instantly, the sweatpants a very thin material that made you feel the outline of him very easily. 

“Tease,” he muttered. 

“Hey, you put yourself in this position,” you argued, though you pushed back against him. “Blame yourself.” 

His large hand came up to cover a breast, massaging it slowly into his palm as his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “I’m thinking that you’re already wet for me,” he whispered. 

“N—No,” you stammered, eyes fluttering. “Not even close.” 

He chuckled and then pulled away, watching you turn back around to face him. “Liar,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t lie.” 

He laughed again. 

A smile formed on your lips. 

“Just get ready,” you said, gently pushing him away as you began walking out of the room. 

Harry took your hand again. You looked back over at him. 

“You really do look beautiful,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “I won’t take long.” 

You nodded and watched him enter the bathroom, the door quietly shutting behind him. You let out a shaky sigh. Playing pretend was starting to blur the lines of what was real and what wasn’t… and you couldn’t help the feeling in your chest at the way he looked at you, or the way he complimented you so easily. 

Harry stepped out of the room and spotted you sitting on the deck outside with a journal on your lap. He smiled to himself. You looked beautiful like this and he couldn’t remember a time where you seemed so carefree and happy like now. He wondered if it was because of the trip or if it was because of him. 

As his mind began drifting though, he shook his head and began walking towards you. Harry needed to stop the lingering thoughts because this was going to end in just five days. 

Even if maybe, he didn’t want it to. 

He was dressed in an olive green tank top underneath another white shirt, unbuttoned this time. Harry stepped out onto the deck with you, causing you to look up at him with a broad smile. 

“You look cute,” you said. 

“You think so?” He asked, playfully twirling in front of you.

You let out a quiet a laugh and nodded, shutting your journal and extending a hand up for him to help you up. Harry took your hand eagerly, gently helping you to your feet. 

“Is now a bad time to ask if you get seasick?” Harry asked. 

“I think so,” you answered. “But I think I’ll be okay.” 

“I’ll be right there,” he said. “In case you want to hold my hand or something.” 

You felt your cheeks warm instantly. “Will you hold me if I ask?” You teased. 

Harry nodded, pulling you closer to him until you collided against his chest. “I’ll do anything you ask,” he whispered. “Anything you want.” 

“Careful,” you whispered. “That might come back to bite you.” 

Harry’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “I’m counting on it.” 

You bit your lower lip to prevent the large smile from lining your lips. You weren’t used to him being so charming like this. Sure, you knew he had a way with words, but never had you been on the receiving end of it. 

“You’re ridiculous.” 

He chuckled. “More family today,” he said, leading you back inside the villa. 

“Okay,” you nodded. “Anything or anyone I should be wary of?” 

“No,” Harry answered. “I just wanted to give you the heads up, that’s all.” 

“So, I gotta pack on the affection, huh?” 

Harry smiled. “Maybe not too much where it doesn’t seem real.” 

“Oh, trust me, Harry,” you smiled. “I can make it seem real even if it’s too much.” 

He watched you for a moment, walking around the villa like you already knew where everything was. He cleared his throat, already beginning to imagine what it’d be like having you at his penthouse more regularly. Would you walk around his place like you owned it? Wearing nothing but his shirt? 

Then, he started imagining what it’d be like coming home to you. Waking up with you. Going to bed with you. Cooking dinner with you. 

“Are you listening?” You said, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Sorry, what?” He asked, shaking his head. “Sorry. I spaced out.” 

You laughed quietly. “Are you nervous again, Harry?” 

He shook his head once more. “No.”

“Then, where’s your head at?” 

He shrugged. Harry couldn’t admit what he was thinking about because that would mean crossing a line you both agreed to never cross. 

“Nowhere.” 

“You’re lying.” 

“Could never lie to you,” he forced a smile. “Now, let’s go.” 

You narrowed your eyes and shook your head, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers with his. “You just lied.” 

He laughed quietly and looked down at your hand, squeezing it gently in his own. “I just spaced out. That’s all. It’s not serious.” 

“Okay,” you said. “If you’re telling me the truth, come here and give me a kiss then.” 

Harry cleared his throat and leaned in to kiss your cheek. “There. Happy?” 

“That’s not a kiss.” 

His eyes glanced down at your lips for a moment. “If I kiss you, will you shut up?” He teased. 

You bit back a smile and nodded, blinking up at him innocently. “Yeah, baby.” 

Harry swallowed nervously. He didn’t think that you’d have this much of an effect on him. You calling him baby, you asking for a kiss and looking at him like the way you are now shouldn’t have an effect on him if there were no real feelings involved. 

Right? 

He rolled his eyes and leaned in to press his lips firmly against your own. Harry pulled his hand from yours to place both of his own on your hips. Your hands moved to link at the nape of his neck, eagerly moving your lips with his. 

“Mm,” he mumbled, feeling you smile against his lips before you pulled away. 

“We have to get into character,” you reasoned. 

“Character, huh?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, leaning up to peck his lips a few more times. 

“Okay then, baby,” Harry said, moving a hand around to rest on your ass. “Let’s get into character then.” 

You both were standing in the doorway, staring into each other’s eyes. The air felt charged again. Something unsaid lingering once more. 

“You calling me baby is… it’s nice.” You whispered. 

“Yeah? You like it?” Harry asked, bringing his other hand to your face, gently tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

“Good,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Because I like it when you call me that too.” 

You shouldn’t have been surprised at the size of the yacht that his parents rented for the day. You already noticed and heard plenty of chatter and laughter as Harry led you onto it. He kept his hand on your lower back as he smiled and nodded at familiar faces. 

“Do you think we can swim?” You asked, looking over at him. 

“Swim?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We don’t… we’re on a yacht, baby.” 

“Yeah… we’re on the water. Are we just going to drink and mingle all day?” 

“That’s the plan.” 

“I mean, that’s fun, but…” 

Harry smiled. “Okay, we can swim.” 

Your eyes lit up. “You’ll join me?” 

“Yeah,” he said. “Because if I don’t, no one will.” 

“Really?” 

Harry nodded. 

“Well, let’s show your family how to have some fun.” You smiled, leaning up to gently press a kiss to his cheek. “For now, let’s get some drinks.” 

Harry smiled, following you to the bar. He couldn’t help but notice his extended family’s gaze on you. It wasn’t like this with Lucy. He watched the men’s lingering gaze on your body and noticed the way the women nodded at him with an approving smile. 

“Two glasses of wine, please,” he heard you say, his attention turning to the bartender who eyed you with a smirk. 

“Coming right up.” 

Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you close to his side. His eyes narrowed at the bartender who paid no attention to him whatsoever. After he poured two glasses of wine like you asked, he set it on the counter. 

“Nice dress,” he said with a grin. 

“Oh, thank you,” you smiled, taking the two glasses. “Here you go, baby,” you added, turning to face Harry. You knew what the bartender was doing and knew that Harry had a reaction to it by the way he kept you close. So, you leaned in and pecked his lips. “You don’t have to worry,” you whispered. 

Harry nodded and looked down at you. “I know.” 

The bartender cleared his throat and turned away from the both of you. 

“Uh huh, sure,” you smiled. “Come on. Let’s go find your parents.” 

Harry followed you closely. He sipped from his glass and watched you walk with so much confidence like you always did. It wasn’t until that moment he realized you seemed to always catch his attention, even before this. 

It only took a few minutes before the both of you found his parents mingling with other members of the family. They were obviously at the top deck of the yacht, leaning against the railing. His mother had her own glass of wine in hand while his father had his normal glass of scotch.

“Harry, honey,” his mother smiled, excusing herself from the people she was talking to. Harry led you over to them and watched how his mother pulled you into a hug first, kissing your cheek before she did the same to him. 

“Hi, ma,” Harry kissed her cheek and turned to his father. “Hey, dad.” 

“Nice, isn’t it?” His dad smiled. “Your mother wanted the biggest yacht.” 

His mother rolled her eyes. “He’s lying. He wanted the biggest yacht.” 

You laughed quietly and leaned against Harry, feeling his arm tighten around you absently. 

“Well, it’s beautiful,” you smiled. 

“She was actually wondering if we could stop the yacht sometime later,” Harry said. 

“For what?” His father asked. 

“To swim.” 

“Swim?” His mother asked. 

You smiled and looked at Harry. “Yeah.” 

His parents looked at each other for a moment, then they glanced up at Harry. He shrugged as a response. “She wants to swim,” he chuckled. 

“Will you be swimming too?” His mother asked, grinning. 

“Or will you let her swim alone? Afraid to get your hair wet?” Peter teased, approaching the four of you with a quiet chuckle. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m not afraid to get my hair wet.” 

“So, that’s a yes, then? You’re gonna swim too?” 

Harry looked down at you and nodded. “Yes, I’ll be swimming too.” 

You grinned and wrapped an arm around him, resting your cheek against his shoulder. “My hero,” you teased. 

His parents laughed quietly. Peter looked down at you with an amused smile. 

“You’re bringing my brother out of his comfort zone,” he pointed out. “I like it.” 

“You all act like I don’t have any fun,” Harry said. 

“You don’t,” his parents and Peter said simultaneously. 

You smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek, gently rubbing his back. “It’s okay, baby. We’ll show you how to have some fun.” 

“I have fun,” Harry muttered. 

“Okay,” you said. 

“Sure you do,” Peter added. 

“Where’s Charlotte? Shouldn’t you be with your wife?” He said, rolling his eyes.

“She’s just in the bathroom,” Peter chuckled. 

“Right.” 

“Anyway, yes, we’ll stop the yacht for you to swim,” his mother smiled. 

“Will you join us too?” You asked. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “Oh, baby, I don’t think—”

“You know what? Yes,” his father said with a smile. 

“We’ll join you,” his mother added. 

About an hour and a half later, you and Harry were in one of the luxury bedrooms on the yacht. You wanted to lie down for a moment, feeling just a bit seasick with the added alcohol too. His parents had told the both of you to go to one of the rooms downstairs, away from the crowd and noise. 

“You okay?” Harry asked, sitting at the edge of the bed as you remained on your back. 

“Yeah,” you answered. “Just wanted to catch my breath.”  

“Too much?” 

You shook your head. “I’ve just never been on a boat before.” 

He chuckled and gently slipped your sandals off your feet. He took one of your feet in his grasp and began massaging it gently, watching your eyes flutter shut. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have had like four glasses of wine that quickly,” he commented. 

“I figured alcohol would help—mmm, that feels good,” you mumbled, feeling his thumbs dig into the bottom of your foot. 

“Should I tell my parents no on the swimming?” 

“No!” You said, sitting up abruptly. “No, I still want to go swimming. Just need a little break, that’s all.” 

“What can I do?” 

“What you’re doing is great,” you mumbled, laying back on the bed as you felt him move his hands from your feet up your legs, bringing the ends of your dress with it.

“Yeah?” He asked, biting his lower lip as he watched you reach for the end of your dress to pull it over your body. You were now clad in a simple black two piece bikini. 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, one hand moving up your leg to your thigh and back down. 

“You’re touching me.” 

“Want me to stop?” 

You shook your head, propping yourself on your forearms to look down at him. “You’re not touching me where I want you to touch me.” 

Harry’s gaze darkened with lust. “Where do you want me to touch you, baby?” 

“Come here.” 

He nodded and kicked off his own sandals, climbing onto the bed and crawling over you. You spread your legs to give him space to settle between them and he propped one hand on the mattress. 

“Where do you want me to touch you?” He asked again. 

You stared up at him and reached down to grab his wrist, guiding his hand between your legs. 

“Right here?” He asked. 

You nodded. “I think I’ve… been wet since we left our villa.” 

Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. “Yeah?” 

“Touch me, please.” 

“God, you’re pretty when you’re begging, baby.” Harry smiled, pulling the bottom of your bikini to the side to expose your glistening heat. He ran a finger along the length of you, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Fuck.” 

“Told you.” 

Harry slid his middle finger inside of you, feeling your warmth and wetness immediately. He watched your eyes flutter closed, a quiet whimper escaping your lips. 

“Wish I brought a condom,” he said quietly, brushing his lips along your cheek. Harry began pumping his finger in and out of you, propping himself on his forearm as he brushed your hair away from your face with his free hand. 

“W—Why?” 

He lowered himself until he nipped at your ear, whispering quietly, “So I can fuck you.”

Then, Harry slid in another finger. You were so wet, welcoming his digits with ease. He moved his lips from your ear to the side of your neck. 

“Harry,” you moaned loudly, moving your hands to his tank top and gently bunching the fabric with your grip. 

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he whispered, pulling back to look down at you. “Fucking soaked.” He pulled his fingers out abruptly to look at his digits, glistening with your arousal as he brought it to his lips. He groaned at your taste before sliding his fingers back inside of you. He began pumping his fingers rapidly now. 

“Oh fuck, baby,” you moaned, toes curling as your back arched. 

Harry knew you were close now, could see it in the way your face scrunched up and how your body began trembling. He thrusted his fingers to the knuckle, curling both of them inside of you as his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. 

“Fuck… me!” You moaned and Harry used his free hand to cover your mouth, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips. 

“Damn, look at you…” he grinned, continuing to curl his fingers inside of you as you rode through your climax. You were breathing heavily now and finally opened your eyes to look at him, slightly dazed, as you watched him bring his fingers back to his lips. “Mmmm. Let’s hope no one heard you.” 

You grabbed his wrist and gently tugged his hand from your mouth, wrapping your lips around one of his fingers. You swirled your tongue around his digit before pulling it from your mouth. 

“Feel better?” He asked. 

You nodded. “A bit.” 

“A bit?” Harry chuckled. 

“Wish you fucked me,” you grinned. 

He cleared his throat. “Don’t tempt me.” 

“Mm, having sex with a condom is a rule of ours,” you said. 

“I know it is.” 

“But we can break rules from time to time, right?” You asked. 

Harry’s brows shot up. “What?” 

“What?” 

“You’ll let me fuck you without a condom?” 

“As long as you pull out.” 

He let out a shaky breath. “Baby… you can’t—you can’t say something like that.” 

“No?” 

He shook his head. “Because I just know that it’ll feel good without it. How would I be able to go back once I know what you feel like… raw?” 

You licked your lower lip and gently pushed him onto his back. You straddled his waist and reached down to undo the button of his shorts before sliding the zipper down. You wasted no time in pulling his hardened length out, slowly stroking the base of him. 

“Baby,” he whispered, letting out a strained groan. 

“Let me sit on it,” you said, leaning down to lightly peck his lips. “Will you let me?” 

“Fuck,” he moaned, feeling your thumb brush over his glistening tip. “Baby, are you sure?” 

“I trust you,” you whispered, lifting your hips. “Do you trust me?” 

“More than you’ll ever know,” Harry admitted. 

You smiled and slowly slid down onto him, gasping loudly at the feel of his girth stretching you. You could feel every inch of him now, every vein and the warmth of his manhood slide along your walls. 

Harry moved both hands to your hips, gripping them tightly. Your walls sucked him in, tight and wet and warm around his base as you continued to slide down along him. He kept his eyes focused on yours, pursing his lips to peck your own. 

“God, you feel fucking amazing,” he whispered, moving his hands from your waist to your ass, slowly beginning to guide you along his length. 

“I feel all of you,” you mumbled, eyes falling shut as you rested your forehead against his. “Every fucking inch.” 

Harry knew he wasn’t going to last long, especially not with the way he felt your walls slide along his length. It felt so much better without having to use a condom but now he wasn’t sure how he was going to spend the rest of the day on this yacht when all he wanted to do now was just spend it at the villa with you.

Between your legs. 

Familiarizing himself with your sex without a barrier. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, holding you just a few inches above him as he pressed his feet on the mattress and began thrusting up into you. Harry’s eyes shut tightly now, fingertips digging into your ass. 

You buried your face against his neck, biting down on the fabric of his shirt to muffle your moans. 

Harry slowly rolled you onto your back, pounding into you. He began chasing his own release, and after a few more thrusts, Harry pulled out abruptly and came hard on your abdomen. His body shuddered as he opened his eyes to look down at you. Your midsection was glistening with his come now. 

“Yeah…” you said through pants. “I think it’s going to be hard going back to condoms now too.” 

Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re crazy.” 

“About you, maybe,” you grinned. 

Harry smiled. He wasn’t sure what that meant—if it meant anything—but he couldn’t help the way it made him feel. 

“Let me clean you up,” he said, climbing off the bed and walking into the connected bathroom. He wiped himself first before tucking himself back inside his shorts. Harry walked back into the room and gently cleaned his come off your abdomen, biting his lower lip. 

“Thank you,” you said, moving a hand to his hair and running your fingers through his curls. 

He looked over at you. “Gonna want to do that again,” he admitted. 

“Me too,” you smiled. 

“Tonight?” Harry asked. 

“You know we will.” 

“Good.” Once you were clean, he watched you sit up to pull your dress back on. “Feeling ready to go back out there?” 

“I’m relaxed now,” you smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “And ready to swim.” 

Harry laughed loudly. He watched you jump off the yacht and into the water yelling “cannon ball!” He shrugged off his tank top and his shirt before joining you immediately, swimming over to you. For once, he didn’t mind his parents’ parties because you managed to distract him, managed to make it fun. He wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned in to peck your lips, feeling your hands push his hair away from your face. 

“Did I look cool?” You asked. 

Harry laughed. “I don’t know if cool would be something I’d describe you as.” 

You gasped playfully. “Then, what would you describe me as?”  

He smiled. “Gorgeous.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Flirt.” 

Then, Peter and Charlotte jumped off the yacht too, both holding hands as they jumped into the water. 

“Woo!” Peter chuckled, swimming to the surface with Charlotte in tow. “Water feels amazing.” 

You smiled and looked up to see both Harry’s dad and mom standing at the edge of the yacht. 

“Ma! Be careful and—” Harry exclaimed before being cut off when she jumped into the water with his dad right behind her. 

He smiled to himself. Harry had gotten so used to working so much, so used to seeing his parents in business mode, that this side of them had given him a glimpse of his childhood. 

And it was all because of you. 

“Hey,” he said. 

“Hm?” 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered, kissing your cheek. “For this. For making this memorable.”

You smiled. “Well, we’ve got five more days left of this.” 

He nodded and pulled you closer. His mind started drifting again. 

What if this didn’t have to end? 

taglist: @kellyxo1 @natdouble8 @maryfanson @pascalgold @jaxmom66 @chewie-bars @gothcsz @pascal-mynightlyobsession @sunnytuliptime @ultimatewolverine @notyourlovemonkey @myotakureprieve @nutbutterjellie @burninglovedreamsdepp @isabellaboo2025 @johnssherlock221 @missadangel @longlivekingminnn @vickie5446 @joelmillerpascal @the-curator01 @ivoryandflame @canonisoptional @armandispunk @lilacs97 @sincerelywithheartt @lizzie-cakes

[stylesispunk]

"Somewhere in the ocean - Part 7"

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

Summary: The one where you and Harry get hurt, but you also have each other by the end.

w.c: 6,8

warnings: fluff, angst (so sorry but is temporaray and really short), mentions of abandonment, mentions of death, crying, age gap (Haryy is 45 and reader is 29-30)

A/N: HELLO! This chapter made me cry while I was writing it, and I hope you like it. I hope you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think.

happy reading and please please please let me know what you think. Also taglist is open if you want to be tagged 💌

dividers by @/strangergraphics

As the blood rose to your ears, the only thing you could feel was the touch of Harry's hand on your man. Solid and warm like the tenuous light that has enveloped your life since you knew it.

His touch tightened around your skin, but not in a possessive way, nor did it claim you the feeling of the kiss you had just shared, but rather supported you.

I'm here.

Because the expression of shocked that crossed your face was impossible to miss.

For a mere second you genuinely thought you were imagining him. That Patrick was just a figment of your imagination bringing back the dust from a past life that no longer existed. That the sea had made sure to hide beneath the water.

But it wasn’t. He was pretty much real and standing in front of you. Looking at you with an expression on his face that made you felt sick.

"Patrick?" you asked, barely above a whisper, disbelief lacing on the words.

Patrick swallowed. His gaze moving over your face he was tried to reconcile the woman standing before him with the one he remembered.

The bolter.

"Hi."

The word sounded absurd after all this time. As if months hadn't passed. As if your wedding hadn't imploded in your hands.

As if your entire life hadn't been divided into a before and after.

You stared at him, but you weren’t moving. Suddenly you wished to the earth to swallow under your feet.

Harry felt the tension radiating through your body and instinctively stepped a little closer to you.

Patrick noticed the movement, so his eyes felt on the man he didn’t know.

On your hand still tangled in Harry’s shirt. On the remnants of an interrupted moment by the ghost of the past crashing on the shore.

Something changed in Patrick’s expression for a moment, but you couldn’t know what. After all, you didn’t know the man in front of you anymore.

You stopped knowing him the days you walked away from him five years ago no looking back, not knowing the price you would have to pay for that so called stupid decision.

……

Five years ago, New York - St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

The interior of the Cathedral smelled like Black Dahlias. A suffocating aroma that you didn't like. Surrounding inside the church, on the altar, over the pews and in the hands of your bridesmaids who were your two best friends and your sister. The same as those who had helped you to plan this wedding.

The two of them were smiling widely at you, meanwhile Kiera’s gaze seemed lost in the war unfolding before her eyes and mind. Her fingers tightened around the bouquet in her hands you almost could see her expression hurting with the prick of the flower’s stem.

And behind you, everyone was smiling. Everyone was waiting. Everyone believed they were about to witness the happiest day of your life.

But as Patrick stood beside you at the altar, as handsome and confident as always. His hand wrapped around yours.

The man you had loved for almost seven years and the man who had betrayed you.

Your throat tightened. The priest was talking, his words felt distant because you felt like your body was being carried away by the current of the sea and you weren't making an effort to stay afloat.

All you could picture in your head wasn’t the dreams of a future ahead, but the image of Patrick’s mouth on Keira’s lips.

Your maid of honor and your sister.

What a cliché.

Your sister and your fiancé, your future husband hiding inside a room three weeks before the wedding while whispering promises to each other not noticing you were witnessing the scene behind the door.

The image replayed again.

And again.

And again.

Like a knife being twisted deeper on your stomach

But you could also recall the Panic on Keira’s face outside the hotel hallways when she attempted to leave the place and how Patrick desperately tried to explain making up false words taking you for a fool.

But there wasn’t another explanation for his tongue being in someone else's mouth and his body moving beneath the sheets wrapping in another women.

The humiliation creeped up immediately. Your body felt under fire, but you also felt pure rage.

So, three weeks after, you put on the white dress, you walked down the aisle holding your father’s arm, you stood at the altar.

You walked down the aisle.

But right now, your eyes burned, tears streamed down your face as Patrick kept squeezing your hand with concern etched on his face.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, leaning closer your ear.

You turned gaze, looking into his eyes and for a moment you wanted to find the man you had planned your life with, the father of your future children that wouldn’t have the chance to be born because all you saw right now was a stranger standing before you wearing Patrick’s face.

You looked behind you, at your mother dabbing at her eyes and your father looking proud and your brother smiling widely at you.

And suddenly you couldn't breathe because none of them knew and you realized none of them would choose you when they found out.

You looked at Patrick, he was smiling at you, again and at that moment something inside you finally broke.

Your heart and your faith.

So, you slowly pulled your hand from his, Patrick frowned confused.

The church fell in a gasp, all eyes were on you wondering what was happening inside your head at this very moment.

"No." you whispered, voice trembling.

The word echoed through the entire church.

"What?" Patrick blinked.

A tear slipped down your cheek. You looked at him one final time. At the man who had broken your trust and somehow expected to keep your future.

"I said no."

Then you turned, grabbing the gown of your dress and walking away while all gazes followed your gaze.

……………………………………

"I didn't know you had company," Patrick’s voice suddenly pulled you from your shock.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, voice sharp.

Patrick lowered his gaze briefly. "I came to talk to you."

A short, disbelieving sound escaped your lips.

"You are five years late for that, now, please go.”

His jaw tensed, attempting to step closer “I know I don't deserve the—""

"No," you replied immediately. "You really don't.”

You felt your breath stuck inside your throat, but Harry continued standing next to you without interrupting.

Patrick looked at him again, then back at you.

"I've been trying to reach you."

"Well, not finding me should be a hint.”

Patrick flinched. His reaction surprised you, at some point you would've felt guilty for causing it, but all you felt right now was exhaustion.

"So why are you here?" you asked again.

Patrick exhaled, wind stirring over his hair.

"I need to talk to you.”

Your chest tightened at that and your pulse hammered in your ears.

The warmth and bright day you have had suddenly turned into a cold dark night swallowing to your buried memories.

And standing between the future you were beginning to crave and the past you thought you'd escaped.

Your turned to Harry, looking deep in those brown eyes that now seemed brighter beneath the stars.

“Harry?” you asked, looking at him, “Can you give me a moment?”

Harrys eyes widened "Are you sure?"

You nodded. "It'll be a really short conversation." Your gaze shifted to Patrick.

It was a warning instead of an invitation.

Patrick looked away first.

And Harry didn't move immediately. You could feel the hesitation. The protective instinct fighting with his respect for your decision.

"I'll be inside with Coco.” He said, not taking his eyes off yours again.

"If you need me—"

"I know." You whispered, giving him a smile.

For a second, he remained there, but then he turned and walked up the path and you watched him go and you saw the porch light catch the side of his face.

Only when the door closed behind him did the silence truly settle, you felt bared without his body pressing against yours.

You were alone with five years’ worth of unfinished conversations standing between you and Patrick.

Neither of you spoke immediately, the ocean filled the silence with the waves breaking on the shore during this night

"I see you made another man fall for you." Patrick spoke.

Your expression hardened at that.

"That's how you're starting this conversation?"

Patrick rubbed a hand over his face. "I didn't mean—"

You crossed your arms. "Then what exactly did you mean?"

His jaw clenched. For a second, he looked like the same man from five years ago, from those three weeks before the wedding.

Patrick looked toward your house, then found your gaze again.

"He looks at you the way I used to."

The statement only made you angrier.

"No." Your voice came out sharp. "You don't get to compare yourself to him."

Patrick flinched, but you were tired of being the only person who had suffered the consequences from the failed wedding.

The ocean kept roaring and your patience finally snapped.

"Can you get to the fucking point?"

Patrick blinked.

You took a step forward. "What are you doing here? And how did you know where I live?"

The exhaustion in your voice was almost worse than the anger itself.

He rubbed a hand across his jaw. Nervous, perhaps ashamed.

"There isn't a right way to say this."

"Then pick a wrong way."

His eyes closed briefly. Then he finally looked at you.

"Your mother told me."

The words pierced right through your heart.  For a second you genuinely thought you had heard him wrong.

"What?"

"Your mother." Patrick swallowed.

The world seemed to tilt beneath your feet.

"No."

"She told me where you were."

Your chest tightened so painfully you felt your ribs had been squeezed.

Patrick saw the realization of those words crossing your face. He Saw the hurt.

"She had known all these years."

You left out a small broken laughed.

“All these years?”

Patrick nodded, looking at how your eyes watered.

"My mother had five years." You whispered, "everyone did."

The wind tugged at your hair as you swallowed painfully. "They never thought of visiting me?"

Patrick looked away for a few seconds, to everything except your face.

"You are dead to them." He said, quietly.

Your heart stopped for a second because despite knowing the truth, hearing it from the same man who has caused the damage hurt.

"Because of you and Keira." You whispered.

Before you could think, you hit his chest, to make him felt the way your heart hammered now.

"Because of you!" you cried out as your vision blurred with tears.

"My mother didn’t even come to her father’s funeral because of me, because she knew.”

Another hit.

"My entire family threw me away because of you!"

Patrick stumbled back half a step.

Your chest heaved. Years of grief finally breaking free.

"You cheated on me." Your voice cracked violently. "With my sister."

The words tasted bitter even now. "You destroyed everything."

Patrick lowered his head in shame, perhaps.

A sob escaped before you could stop it.

The sound seemed to physically hurt him.

"I know."

"No, you don't!" You stepped back from him.

"You got to keep your life."

Patrick looked up. "I didn't—"

"You kept your family."

You pointed toward him. "You kept your friends." Your voice rose. "You kept your house."

The tears streamed freely now. "And I had nobody caring for me just because I din’t get marry to you."

Patrick's face crumpled. “I married Kiera. She’s my wife."

You froze and for a moment you simply stared at him.

Then a hollow laugh escaped your lips. "Of course she is."

Patrick closed his eyes briefly.

You shook your head. The tears on your cheeks suddenly felt so cold.

"My sister." Your voice cracked.

The wind whipped on your hair as your heart ached.

Patrick nodded, “Look, I really need to talk to you and you clearly aren’t in your best state.”

Your shoulders shook. The anger was leaving your body now.

You wiped your eyes. "Just go."

Your voice barely above a whisper now.

Patrick swallowed. “I—“

“Go.”

Patrick nodded slowly.

"Look, I really need to talk to you, and you clearly aren't in your best state."

The words only made your chest ache more.

As if there were ever a good state to hear that your family had erased you from their lives.

Your shoulders trembled.

The anger that had been holding you upright was beginning to leave your body now, draining away and leaving behind nothing but exhaustion.

Grief.

Shock.

You wiped furiously at your eyes.

"Just go."

Your voice was barely a whisper.

Patrick swallowed.

"I—"

"Go." The word cracked.

You took a step back, but something warm trickled over your upper lip.

You frowned, confused, taking your fingers up to your nose.

When they came away red, your stomach tightened as the rest of your body.

Patrick's expression changed instantly. "You're bleeding."

You looked down at the blood staining your fingertips. Too many memories dragged back from the grave.

Patrick instinctively stepped forward.

"Hey—"

You shoved his hand away before he could touch you.

"Don't."

"You're upset. Let me—"

"Don't touch me."

The words came out sharper than you intended, the broken sound of your voice became just a snapping thrill flying.

But he kept trying to help and trying to catch your arm.

"Leave me alone and go." Your voice broke completely and Patrick stared at you.

His face crumpled at the sight if your face. Patrick looked at you one last time and then, he turned away.

He disappeared from your sight, leaving the ocean, the wind and the ache in your heart.

But then, another pair of footsteps approached from behind and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

Harry and Coco, licking his face appeared behind you, but the puppy squirmed in Harry's arms at the sight of you.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

He carefully lowered Coco onto the ground and the puppy took off running straight to you.

"Coco—"

And the little dog crashed into your legs, tail wagging, stretching onto his hind paws to reach you, whining, licking your hands and demanding your attention.

Demanding that you stop crying immediately.

A wet nose nudged at your wrist and a small broke sound escaped from you lips as your puppy licked the tears off your chin.

"Oh my God." You laughed "Coco!"

Harry reached to your side and his expression changed the moment he noticed the blood beneath your nose.

His eyes widened. "What did he—"

"Nothing." You said, wiping your nose with the back of your hand.

Harry frowned. "Nothing?"

"My nose bleeds when I get too stressed." A weak smile tugged at your lips.

His face softened immediately and you gave a small shrug. "It's annoying."

Harry reached up carefully, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. Then, he rested his cheek against on your hair.

"Come inside," he said softly.

You laughed weakly. "This is my house."

"There she is." A small smile tugged at Harry's mouth.

"What?" You sniffled.

"The woman who makes jokes of my words.”

A smile appeared on your lips and his eyes softened at the sight.

"There she is," he repeated, this time smiling at your smile.

Your chest tightened, you knew Harry could notice it despite not seeing it, so he planted a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

It felt like the sun kissing the horizon on the sea during the morning.

Then you opened your eyes again. "Harry."

His gaze immediately found yours. Patience and concern drawing on his face.

"I want you to know I don't love him, okay?"

Harry's expression changed to something he had been trying very hard not to ask.

"There are things I have to tell you." Your fingers trembled slightly. "And I will…Just... in a few days."

Harry nodded, whatever story was sitting behind your eyes, he wasn't going to force it out of you tonight.

"I don't love him," you repeated quietly.

Your hand lifted to his lips, so your fingertips on them.

The touch made him weak.

"And don't think for one second I regret kissing you."

His eyes searched yours, and the corner of his mouth lifted into a soft smile. Almost disbelieving.

Then he turned his head slightly and pressed a kiss into the center of your palm. Your breath caught at the action

"Good," he whispered. "Because I will be thinking about that kiss for so long."

"Do you want me to keep you company tonight?" Harry offered.

Your throat tightened, so you simply nodded, leaning towards him.

Harry wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against his side. His chin brushing the top of your head.

And just as the moment settled in comfortable warmth…

“Woof!”

Both of you looked down at Coco staring both of you

“Woof!”

Harry looked down at the puppy. "Excuse me?"

Coco barked again. His tail wagging fast.

The puppy pushed his nose insistently against your shin.

Demanding inclusion.

You crouched slightly to scratch behind his ears.

“Okay, let’s go inside mister.”

The sun was exceptionally brightened today, as if anticipating the new waves of affection flying with the salt air all over this town. And despite de return of a ghost from the past threatening to destroy the peaceful life you had made of yourself in this place, no one could erase the smile on your face.

Harry was the reason behind.

That devastatingly annoying, desperate and handsome Harry Castillo, who was dropped by the door of your house by the universe without even knowing he would be the reason behind the flush on your face and the rapid-fire creeping inside your heart.

You had a mere reason to not desire burn yourself with the fire catching inside the chest when you knew you were developing the chemistry of love. Something new, at first fleeting air that caught in your breath but becoming into something that you could stop craving.

It felt foreign.

And it felt almost childish in a way you still allowed yourself to believe in a man wearing the knight armor.

But instead of riding a horse, he wore expensive clothes while carrying your dog like a baby.

And you couldn’t stop smiling as you arranged pastries inside the display case.

The Lost Beans was busy this morning, the buzzing of people chatting at tables and the smell of coffee lingered in the air.

The day was moving exactly as it should. Normal in that ordinary way you were so used to by now.

But as you were reaching for a tray of fresh croissants, the bell above the entrance chimed. You glanced up and froze in your spot. The smile you had vanished from your face.

Patrick looked completely out f place among the cheerful atmosphere of the café as if tainted a beautiful space with poison.  

Your stomach twisted at the sight of him.

Sophie noticed the change in your demeanor and walked closer to you.

“Are you okay?” She asked, touching your shoulder.

“Yes, I am.” You said, no taking your eyes off Patrick, “Can you handle this for a moment, Sophie?”

“Of course,” she said, clearly curious by the man in front of the counter. “Tell me if you need something.”

You nodded, watching her take care of the tray as you turned to Patrick again. He looked exhausted, as he hadn't slept, like if he regretted being there.

But he was there anyway, and he approached the counter.

One of your coworkers moved to take his order, but he lifted his hand, moving his gaze towards you.

"I want her to take my order.”

You stared back expressionlessly, looking at him coldly.

"I just want a coffee and need five minutes."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

His jaw tightened; desperation drawn on his features. "You don't understand."

Those words made you look at him.

"Then explain it from where you're standing."

Patrick glanced around the café, then back at you.

“Five minutes and I’ll leave you alone.” He said, not smiling.

You sighed, “Okay, go and sit.”

You remained behind the counter for a moment, staring at his back. Then you grabbed a coffee mug and prepare his drink.

A few minutes later you approached his table, Patrick looked up as you placed the cup in front of him.

His gaze lingered on your face, studying you. Perhaps trying to find traces of the woman he'd once known.

Then his eyes dropped to the coffee, he smirked.

"You didn't put salt in this, did you?"

The joke caught you off guard because years ago, when you were angry, you replaced his sugar with salt and Patrick used to spend half a morning pretending not to notice before finally admitting his coffee tasted like seawater.

Back then you used to laugh so hard until you cried, but the now the memory felt like it belonged to strangers.

But your expression remained flat and Patrick's smile faded immediately.

You sat down across from him, crossing your arms. "Go ahead.” Your voice cold, "Make it short."

Patrick stared at the cup for several seconds, he swallowed. "Keira and I are moving."

Your expression didn't change. "Okay."

His eyes searched yours, and when he didn’t get the reaction he hoped, Patrick looked down briefly.

Then continued. "We're going to Seattle to help with your father’s law firm."

You shrugged lightly. "Good for you."

Patrick finally laughed softly. "You really don't care anymore."

You looked out the window, at all this little life you'd built without him. Then back at him.

"No."

Patrick closed his eyes. Then he wrapped both hands around the coffee cup.

"Okay."

Something in his tone made your stomach tighten.

Patrick looked up. "Your mother and father...want your grandfather's house."

"What?" You blinked.

Patrick swallowed. "They want to sell it."

The words coming out his mouth felt so foreign it seemed they belonged to someone else's story.

Not yours, nor the yellow house with the sea view.

Not your grandfather's workshop still in there, not the porch where he used to sit every evening drinking tea. Not the place that had smelled of sawdust and peppermint candies.

Not to your house.

"They want the money." Patrick continued.

You stared at him, expressionless, but feeling the tears watering inside your eyes.

Trying to process what he was saying.

"To help me and Keira settle down in Seattle."

The café noise seemed to disappear, there was complete silence.

You laughed.

Patrick winced immediately.

"So that's why they remembered I exist."

Patrick's expression fell. "No."

"Really?" Your voice remained calm, “They didn't look for me for five years."

Patrick stayed silent.

"They told people I went mad in the head, but suddenly they want to contact me when they need a signature."

Patrick rubbed a hand over his face. "They need your permission."

"They won’t have it.” You said, final.

“What’s the problem with the house?” He asked desperately right not as if had the right. “I can borrow money and you can buy another house.”

Your eyes widened at that, “Are you mad?” you called out quietly “My grandpa left that house for me. It’s mine.”

“I—”

“Besides there are feeling involved with that house but what would you know?”

“That’s bullshit.” He said, his facade falling. “You could move with the man you were kissing last night.”

You snorted at how ridiculous his arguments were.

“Do you have any idea of who that man is?” He asked, “That’s Harry Castillo he is the CEO of multiple enterprises under his name, you could be rich and so your little life will come to an end.”

“What did you say?” You asked, angry.

“Come on! You were a lawyer; you were becoming one and now what do you do? Sell coffee?”

“How are you calling a working class now?”

But you were met with his widened eyes, his chest rising as his own desperation caught him up.

“Looking at you right now, “you began,” It makes so happy to be death for you all because you and that whole people are nothing but pathetic assholes.”

You stood, the chair scrapping the ground made a sound. “Now, go out of my café. I won’t sell the house.”

You turned away.

“Well, we will have to bring a lawyer into this.” He warned, making you turned to face him again.

“What if your new fling knows about how you left me at the altar humiliating me in front of people?”

“Well, I’m not—”

“Maybe there was a good reason a thrown you away after all.” He spoke.

His words would kill you before, but right now they meant nothing.

“Out.” You said, turning around.

But just as you were about to turn around by the counter Harry came into view following Patrick with his gaze. He looked at you looking for answers but you didn’t acknowledge him.

“I need a break,” you told Sophie before disappearing to your office.

Leaving Harry utterly worried. Sophie met his Gaze, the looked outside the window and Harry did the same, still looking at Patrick who now was pacing back and forth with his phone pressed on his ear.

Every few seconds he ran a hand through his hair before speaking into the call again.

Harry's jaw tightened.

"That guy is a dick." Sophie sighed beside him while drying a cup.

Harry glanced at her. Her bluntness would be funny under different circumstances.

Sophie leaned on the counter. "He came in acting like he owned the place."

Harry looked back outside again.

"I wanted to throw hot coffee at his face." Sophie said.

"Can you excuse me?" Harry's said, his voice remaining calm.

Sophie immediately understood and her eyes widened slightly as she glanced between him and Patrick outside the café window.

Then she nodded once.

"Please don't kill him. Cleaning blood off the sidewalk sounds exhausting."

That almost earned her a smile.

Harry pushed the café door open and stepped outside.

Patrick was still near the curb, pacing with his phone in his hand.

“Hey!

Patrick’s eyes lifted.

“What did you do to her?” Harry asked, stepping closer to him.

“She didn’t tell you who I am, right?” Patrick asked, defiant.

“You must haven’t been someone important if she didn’t.” Harry replied

Patrick laughed softly, “Well, I was. We were going to get married.”  

Harry’s heart suddenly stopped after that, but he tried hard not to show it.

“But you want to know why we didn’t?” Patrick teased, “She ran away and left me standing there just like happened to you.”

Harry remained froze, silent with a million of scenarios playing inside his head.

“That’s why se is lonely. Don’t be fooled by her kindness.”

But even as the words left Patrick's mouth, something in his expression changed because he knew he was lying.

Harry could see it.

Patrick himself didn't believe what he was saying. In fact, the sadness crossing his face carried something far more dangerous than resentment. You were all the things Harry knew and thought you were.

You were the sweetest person you could ever met. Patrick had fallen hard for you because of that, he had loved you so much, and there were still remnants of that love for you floating around.

Because you were that kind of people you only met once, like a fleeting star.

But you were too naïve. That’s why you were afraid to be fooled.

And without another word, Patrick left leaving Harry standing there, watching at how the love of your past life walked away.

Then, he turned around and took a glimpse of you from outside. You were by the window, looking angry, but deeply sad. He got lost on your face and the thoughts running through his head.

He didn’t notice your eyes had met his from the window.

You kept looking, he could see your eyes brightening at the sight of him, but he could only shake his head in utterly disappointment, and then he walked away.  

And as you followed him with your gaze, a strange feeling settled down in the pit of your stomach.

By the time evening arrived, the town had quieted beneath the darkening sky and the ocean keep rolling gently in the distance while the porch lights flickered on one by one across the neighborhood.

You walked slowly toward your house, exhaustion owning your body in every step you gave.

The conversation with Patrick still replaying endlessly inside your head and Harry walking away from you felt stranger.

Your chest tightened as your house finally came into view and then you saw him sitting on the porch with Coco in his arms.

Harry looked up when he heard your footsteps approaching.

The porch light cast soft shadows across his face. He looked conflicted.

Your heart hurt.

But before approaching, Coco noticed you next.

The puppy immediately perked up and squirmed out of Harry's arms before racing toward you, you bent, catching him to your chest. For a second you buried your face in his fur taking a deep breathe.

Then you looked up at Harry again. He stood slowly, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans.

"I have to go back to New York tomorrow."

Your stomach dropped.

"It's just for a few days," he added quickly.

But the ache had already settled inside your chest.

You nodded, trying not to show how his now distant voice affected you.

"What did he tell you?" you asked,

Harry looked at you

Your throat tightened. “The part of me running away from the wedding...or the truth?"

Harry didn't answer immediately and that hurt more than if he had.

You looked away first. Wrapping your arms tighter around yourself.

"I knew he would do that." Your laugh came out hollow. "It sounds awful when you say it out loud, doesn't it?"

Harry stood in the same place, not moving.

"I left him at the altar, yes.” The words tasted bitter now. "And after what happened to you..." you swallowed painfully, "I imagine hearing that from him must've been—"

“But I never thought you would look at me differently without let me to explain what truly happened.” You said, hurt.

The hurt in your voice hit Harry immediately. It made his chest tightened.

His lifted his gaze, looking at your glossy eyes.

Your whole soul was wounded.

And suddenly Harry realized what his silence must have looked like from your side.

“I saw the way you looked at me today.” You shook your head softly, almost laughing at yourself.

Harry opened his mouth, but you didn’t let him to continue.

“You heard one thing about me and suddenly it was enough to make you walk away.”

Harry took a step toward you “That’s not what happened.”

“Then what did?” Your voice cracked. “Of course, you believed that excuse of a man before me.”

“I—I didn’t. But I’m honestly very confused right now.” He spoke.

“So, you will go back to New York.” You said, ignoring his words.

“I—I yes, I have—”

But the words died in his lips, when your eyes watered. His heart clenched at the sight. So, you took Coco with you.

“Thanks for taking care of Coco today. Have a safe flight.” You said, walking pass him, tears already streaming down your face.

Harry froze for half a second, watching tears slide silently down your cheeks as you moved toward your front door.

And suddenly panic gripped his chest. Because he knew that kind of walk.

Knew what it looked like when someone decided to retreat before they got hurt worse.

“Hey.”

You didn't stop. Harry turned quickly.

“Hey—”

The porch steps creaked beneath his shoes as he followed after you. “Please, don't do this.”

But you closed the door before he could reach you. Once you did it, you gasped, leaving Coco on the ground by your feet. Coco immediately circled your feet anxiously before settling beside you.

You leaned back against the door, forehead pressing against the cold wood as tears finally spilled freely down your face.

Outside, Harry stopped in front of the door, so close that if either of you reached through the door, your fingertips might touch.

He rested one hand against the wood.

You leaned on your door, forehead touching the cold wood. As your tears streamed down. “I was so happy,” you began, because you knew Harry was at the other side of the door.

He closed his eyes at the thought of your broken sound.

“I was so happy because I couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss and really felt over the moon, but you hurt me. I didn’t know you would.”

“Sweetheart—”

“No,” you whispered quickly. “Please let me talk.”

And Harry immediately fell silent because he could hear years of fear sitting behind your voice.

“I know I’m difficult and I know I get scared and I know Patrick showing up probably feels like some horrible warning sign to you—”

“It doesn’t—”

“But for one second,” your voice broke completely, “I thought maybe I could have something good. That I could have you.”

Harry’s chest hurt.

“I thought maybe someone could look at me and choose me.”

Inside the house, you slid down the door until you were sitting on the floor beside Coco. The puppy pressed next your leg immediately.

“And when I saw your face today…” you whispered, “it felt like everyone else all over again.”

Harry shook his head immediately despite knowing you couldn’t see him. “No.”

“No, don’t say that.” He pleaded.

“Patrick and my sister lied to my face,” you whispered.

Harry closed his eyes.

“I found them three weeks before I was supposed to marry him. Them both in bed in a hotel room.”

Harry’s hand tightened on the wood of the door.

His jaw clenched so hard it hurt. At the image of you walking into that room believing you were loved.

At the devastation that must have followed. You let out a trembling breath.

“I never felt my heart shatter like that before.” Coco rested his head on your knee while you cried quietly. “And I thought leaving him at the altar would humiliate him.” Your laugh cracked weakly. “But deep in my heart…” your voice softened painfully, “I chose to become the villain of that story before forcing myself to stay part of that family.”

Harry’s chest ached so sharply he almost knocked on the door just to hold you.

Because suddenly everything made sense. Why loneliness sat so naturally inside you.

“I grew up in a rich family, Harry.” Your voice sounded exhausted now. “Our marriage would’ve been good for both families.”

Harry could practically picture it. The appearances and the expectations. The performance of perfection.

“But when I did what I did…” your breathing hitched, “my father and the mother I thought loved me threw me away.”

Harry shut his eyes harder.

“Left me with nothing but two suitcases.” You wiped your face shakily before continuing. “Then, I came here looking for my grandpa.”

Harry remembered the way you spoke about him.

“And he took me in.” Your voice finally broke completely, “He loved me anyway.”

A tear slipped down Harry’s face before he even realized it.

“And when he died…” you whispered, “none of them came to his funeral.”

No wonder your grandfather’s house mattered so much.

It wasn’t property. It was the last proof that someone had chosen you without conditions.

“Now they want his house? My house? For money?” Your voice cracked into disbelief again. “Why are they so bad?”

Harry inhaled. There was nothing he could say that would make that pain disappear.

Nothing that could excuse people treating you like something disposable and maybe the cruelest part was that you were still asking why.

Harry finally knocked softly on the door. “Hey.”

Your breathing stuttered slightly on the other side. Harry leaned his forehead against the door.

“I didn’t want you to think I was cruel.” You whispered.

“Oh, baby.” The words escaped his lips,

“I don’t think that.” His hand flattened softly against the door. “I swear I don’t.”

Harry’s voice lowered. “You know what I think?”

He was met with your silence. “I think you were heartbroken.”

Your eyes squeezed shut immediately.

“I think you were twenty-something years old and devastated and trying to survive the worst betrayal of your life.”

The porch creaked softly as Harry shifted closer to the door.

“And maybe leaving him there wasn’t the best thing you could’ve done…”

A weak broken laugh escaped from your lips.

“But I understand why you did it.”

A tear rolled slowly down your cheek.

“And honestly?” he exhaled quietly, “after what they did to you, I’m surprised all you did was walk away.”

Harry smiled sadly on the other side of the door the moment he heard it. “There she is.”

You shook your head despite him not seeing it.

“You always say that.”

“Because I hate when you are sad.” He went silent for a moment, “Can you open the door for me?”

You closed your eyes, fear and longing twisted inside your chest.

Because opening the door this suddenly felt like more than just letting him inside your house.

It was fun how all always ended up with you both and a door in the middle.

And right now, it felt like letting someone see the parts of you you'd spent years hiding.

The abandoned daughter.

The woman terrified of not being loved.

Coco nudged your arm gently with his nose. As if encouraging you to open the door, so you closed your eyes, taking a shaky breath. Then slowly pushed yourself off the floor.

Harry heard the movement immediately on the other side of the door and his heart started beating faster.

You reached for the lock with trembling fingers.

You paused and for one terrible second, fear almost won.

What if he looked at you differently now?

What if this tenderness disappeared once the reality of your past settled in?

What if getting close to you eventually became too heavy?

But then you remembered him showing up while you were sick and him carrying Coco around like a baby.

Him sitting on your porch instead of leaving and listening.

Your hand finally turned the lock, opening the door slowly.

And there he was. Eyes immediately finding yours.

The second Harry saw your tear-stained face, he wrapped his arms around you.

And all the breath you’d been holding all evening finally escaped your lungs. Your face buried on his neck, taking a deep breath.

Harry held you tighter immediately. His hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair.

You shook your head weakly against him and Harry only tightened his embrace.

“I’m sorry I made you feel alone for even one second.”

Your fingers curled tightly into the fabric of his shirt and suddenly all the loneliness you had carried for five years felt unbearably heavy.

Because now you knew what it felt like for someone to stay. Harry leaned his head, kissing your temple softly, then your forehead and then, after a small hesitation, the corner of your tear-wet cheek.

As if his kiss was trying to mend something.

Coco barked once from beside your legs. Harry let out the smallest laugh, still holding you.

“Yeah, buddy,” he murmured. “I’m fixing it.”

Then, he loosened his arms around you slightly, just to look down to your face.

Your eyes were still red, exhaustion from this day caught in there.

Harry brushed his thumb gently over your cheek.

“Do you want me to spend the night with you?” Part of him hoped you would say yes.

Not because he wanted more kisses, but because you felt fragile tonight and leaving you alone would mean leaving you with every painful thought still circling your head.

“I would rather not.” you shook your head.

Harry’s face softened immediately.

You looked down briefly before whispering,

“Goodnight, Harry.”

The way you said his name nearly broke him.

Harry nodded slowly. “Okay.”

His hand slipped down your cheeks.

But before stepping back completely, he leaned down, pressing one last soft kiss on your forehead. Lingering there for a second.

“Goodnight, baby.”

Your eyes closed at the gesture. Harry pulled away after that and Coco immediately wandered toward him, tail wagging softly.

Harry crouched slightly to scratch behind the puppy’s ears.

“You take care of her tonight, alright?”

Coco sneezed on his wrist.

“I’m still coming back after New York.” He said, looking up at you. “In case your brain starts lying to you while I’m gone.”

The smallest smile tugged at your lips.

Harry looked relieved just seeing it because leaving you was the last thing he wanted to do.

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[dilf-docs]

⋆。ﾟ Late Night Thinking, Lousy Thoughts ⋆。ﾟ

ㅤㅤㅤafter a surprise visit, you do one of your own. why are you always knocking on his door?ㅤㅤㅤ╱ wc: 2k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, foes to hoes, (one sided) enemies to lovers, angst, rich ppl, slowburn, reader may be a bit of a cunt, dbf!harry

ㅤㅤㅤprev | masterlist | next

Standing behind your door is the last person you'd expected.

"Annabelle" you ask a little breathless. "What are you-"

Taking advantage of your shocked state, she invites herself in.

"Nice office. I wanted to drop by your house at least once, since your father never wanted to visit, but I have a friend who lives in this building so I had an idea, at least"

You remain motionless, processing her words as she answers before you ask.

"I knew where your office was, at least"

You wonder if it's because she ever thought about asking for your services. Maybe, she figured, she could get a discount; no one is stinkier than the rich.

"I'm moving to Barcelona"

Your breath hitches. This, aside her sudden visit, have taken you by surprise. It's a lot for just one seemingly normal morning.

"There's nothing left for me in New York" she whispers.

For the first time, you see past the façade: the diamonds dangling from her ears, the one still on her finger; the threads of white underneath the gold of her hair; the dazzling magazine smile that made your father fall in love, cracking under pressure.

"I don't expect you to cry" she snickers, going back to her usual unbothered state, "we were never close"

"So why are you here?"

She doesn't answer, as if the answer was a secret worth keeping.

"I wanted to tell you" Annabelle says instead.

Silence settles in. You offer her a drink she politely rejects.

"I won't stay for long. I'm sure you're busy, and I have a lot to pack"

"How's the moving going?" you ask, out of courtesy. If she's offering conversation over awkward pauses, you'll take it.

It's not like you owed her anything, though, but she had been the one by your father's side during these past years, so that had to account for something. And she told you she was leaving too.

Maybe she felt the same way you did: tied by tense threads born out of compliance.

"It's alright, I'm selling most of it" she answers casually, almost uninterested. Then, realizes. "I mean the stuff we bought together. I haven't touched your old stuff, you know? It's all where you left it, mostly in the attic" she pauses. "That's why I'm here"

There it is. Of course, a favor. Not like she actually cared about you when not once had she come to your side on the funeral. As a matter of fact, you don't even remember a single word of condolence from her mouth.

"When you're free to come, I'd like for you to check them before I move out" Annabelle continues, oblivious to your silence. "And what I've got left of our stuff, well, if you like anything" she clears her throat, "you can take some of that too"

You consider her offer.

"Thank you. Actually, there's this vase in the kitchen, porcelain..."

"From Shanghai. Yeah, I know which is it" she cuts in, "I haven't gotten rid of it yet"

For some seconds, she seems to ponder.

"Alright, you can take it. I think it'd look good in your apartment. A fine porcelain as such will look good on anyplace"

"Yeah" you concede. "My father was many things. He was a tasteful man" you attempt to joke in hopes of feeding the lighthearted environment that had settled, "I mean, he married you"

Annabelle laughs, politely.

"Sure it looked like that"

Your smile falters. She's quick to notice.

"I mean, don't act surprised" she gestures around your office, "I think you'd be better at seeing that"

"You never loved my father?" you blurt out.

It feels tasteless the moment it leaves your mouth, but she doesn't seem bothered by your impertinence. If anything, Annabelle seems as curious as amused, a sight so rare it makes your stomach turn.

"Like I said, I thought you were smarter. It doesn't take a watchful eye to realize it was nothing but convenient"

"Convenient?" you repeat, mouth dry.

"It's Manhattan, y/n. Don't be so amused" she laughs like she's talking to a dumb kid. "A man like your father didn't have many options"

"He has money" you counter, desperate to clean the image of a man who was barely there.

Money has always been the solution. It's what you'd been taught since being of age.

She smirks. "That's why I didn't say no"

"Then why did you choose him?" you carp.

Her gaze lowers to her ring, look suddenly sullen and contemplating. She has probably never looked this deep in thought before, or perhaps never in front of you.

If anything she seems... tired.

"Because I was like your father" she pauses, "but I had no money"

You swallow, but it feels heavy and dry.

She stands, as if time was up.

"You know marriage is just another business"

You stand up as well.

For what?

Why was there this need to go against an idea you had deemed the standard just a few months back?

"Don't tell me you've changed your mind"

Harry Castillo.

The friend of your father. Your solace in a body. A butterfly.

Like the one he picked up and cared. Where you his?

Was he the reason you felt like this? That there could be another love than the cold heart of stone you've been raised upon?

As warm as his eyes. His lips. His embrace.

His bed, where he tried to reach for you but you always left.

"I haven't" you reply, but even to you, it sounds unconvinced.

She narrows her eyes, probably seeing something you don't. A crack in the mirror, maybe, in the reflection of a future version of you.

"I didn't pin you for a romantic, y/n" she mocks icyly.

You try to defend yourself pointlessly. "I'm not"

She grabs her coat, opening the door. Your assistant is quick on her feet, holding it out.

"Drop by my house and pick up the vase" she offers airily, "and stop for a drink or two. Maybe we can get some common sense on that fairy tale world of yours"

Your assistant gives you a weird look before closing the door, Annabelle's laugh freezing your veins as it drowns out.

You want to protest, tell her you're like her, that you're not. That you're practical, even cynical. That you don't believe in things that you never had for yourself. Love is another hoax that ends.

That it's Harry Castillo's fault for being a lover. For being your lover because of an impulsive choice you made. But even then he's the sole one to blame, because where practicity should've been, your heart beats again.

No words come out of your mouth.

Now it's you who stands on the other side of the door.

You hear fumbling on the other side until it opens, and Harry stands behind.

He's wearing sweatpants and a dark cotton t-shirt, chest heaving and curls messy. He probably was already in bed or tried to look presentable in a matter of seconds.

"You could've tell me you were coming"

So it's the latter.

"I didn't have time"

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head.

"You know, a text message would've-"

Harry feels your lips over his, cutting him off effectively. He deepens the kiss, grabbing your face as his tongue pushes inside. You pull away instantly, as if snapping out of it, making him confused, heart racing.

"Alright, I see" he lets his hands fall to the sides, chest rising and falling. "Let's cut to the chase"

As Harry's hand moves to the hem of his sweatpants, you stop him by the wrist.

"No" he raises an eyebrow, getting more confused each passing second. "I just wanted to talk"

"Talk?" he parrots, dumbfounded. "You came all the way here to talk?"

You lose your temper and pride, cheeks blushing with shame. "I can leave"

You see panic in his eyes, doubt over if this is some sort of test or actually happening.

"No!" he answers rather hastily. "I was just... Surprised"

"Aren't you a good listener?" you raise an eyebrow.

He sighs, crossing his arms as to protect himself.

"Says everyone" he sighs. Then, after a pause: "Is that why you're really here?"

"What's surprising about that? Do you think I'm some sort of machine who just works, fucks and sleeps?"

He chuckles at the irony of it all.

"Don't think so lowly of me. It's just, this isn't-"

This isn't our arrangement.

You gulp at the spoken words, daring to look into his eyes.

How could you explain you had no one left? No family, no friends. Your father was dead and your mother had run away. Rachel lived in her little bubble, and that's the only person close enough to you. How pathetic was it to come to the arms of the man you're sleeping with because you felt alone?

You felt, in a way, Harry could understand. Cut from the same cloth, born in the same world.

Two lonely souls, with nothing in common but the silver spoon which they were born.

Maybe it was the bridges he'd built before. Him taking you to Coney Island after.

"I know" you turn wkth a melancholic smile, "can you blame a girl for trying?"

He runs a hand through his hair, looking restless.

"Fine. Do you fancy a drink? There's this bottle of wine I got last week"

You don't know what compels you but the question pushes past your lips.

"Who gave it to you?"

He's mid walk to the kitchen when he stops. It looks like he doesn't read too much into your intentions.

"Some client" it's his curt reply. "Full glass?"

You nod. "The bottle, if you can"

He chuckles for the first time tonight, visibly relaxed.

"In what trouble have you gotten this time?"

"Don't think so lowly of me" you repeat his earlier words as you cross your arms.

He smirks. "Bad habit"

Bottle on hand, you walk to the couch and drop unceremoniously. Harry fills the glass, passing it to you.

"So, what's keeping you up at night? A particularly jarring case?"

You reply back after a long sip.

"Annabelle"

His eyebrows raise at the name.

"I thought you hated her?"

"I tolerate her" you retort. "She's one of the less annoying wives"

He takes a sip from his glass. You don't focus on the shape of his lips.

"Sorry" he blurts with mild panic, "that wasn't-"

"Camilla" you interject, much to his surprise. "She was the one who he married after my mother left. I guess there's some merit on marrying a man with a reputation so tainted. And, you know-" you gulp, "she didn't try to impose herself with me, like the next, or be completely distant, like Annabelle and the girl whose name I don't remember. She was just... there. I think that's all I needed"

Harry's voice is sof; careful. It's not like you to speak of the past, less so personally.

"Yeah?"

"The house felt less alone when she was there"

He takes a sip, probably to steel his nerves, the same that make his hand slightly shake.

"What happened to her?"

"My dad, of course." you chuckle. "Work, grief... I don't know. Even when he was, he wasn't there. He never was"

« She was young, probably just wanted his attention. I remember she joined me once in my bedroom while I was playing with my dolls before I got rid of them. She looked at my dollhouse, and with the saddest smile I have ever seen, she said she felt like them: too big for a house where she was supposed to fit.

I think her parents knew she had nothing going on for her, so they married her to the first prospect with money and a good name. I don't even know how they met. »

"So she left?"

"Divorced after five years. He didn't even fight it" you sigh. "I guess I thought she'd at least look at me one last time before leaving, but once court was settled, I never saw her again. I can't tell if it was part of it, but why would she want to see the daughter of the stranger she married?"

"You wonder where she is?"

It felt as if you were speaking a monologue, answering yourself. The older man was a good listener, and you find yourself saying out loud things you'd never say before.

"No" you pause to think, "but I do see her. When there's a girl coming to my office, as young as they appear lost, all I see is her"

"Have you never come across her again? Manhattan isn't that big"

"Last I heard, she married an oil tycoon and moved to Australia"

"Good for her"

You raise your glass on a mocking toast.

"Good for her"

He smiles before clicking it with yours.

The bottle slips into three more glasses and runs like the time. It appears to be midnight by now.

"Would you do that?"

You blink slowly, turning towards him. At some point, the curls he'd rapidly tried to tame have fallen into soft cascades over his forehead, covering his brown eyes molten from wine.

"Do what?"

You've spoken one or two things between silences and sips, all trivial. This question, however, feels different. Defining.

"Marry for convenience"

You chuckle, taking a sip out of habit by now, to make the pause for though seem both efortless and deliberate.

"I don't think I'll ever get married at all"

"I can see you" Harry replies back in an instant.

Your face burns for some reason.

"What do you mean?"

"Married, I mean" he coughs up, face coated in a shade of wine alike.

You can't help when your lips curve up.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" he sighs. "I think you're the type of person who secretly wants something even if they claim they don't"

You brush it off with a laugh as your heart picks up.

"You need to put your drink down"

"See? Now you're backtracking. You know it's true"

"What I know is, it's getting late and I should go"

You get up too quickly. Losing your balance seems the most fitting consequence.

Before you hit the ground, Harry catches you.

"I think you should put your glass down first"

"I'm fine" you stutter. "I just have to-"

"You should stay"

The air leaves your lung, and when it goes in, it burns.

"No" you cut, harshly. "It's not... It's against our rules"

"Your rules" he corrects softly, his feelings impossible to read. "So is coming late at night to my house if you don't have any intentions of having sex"

Your eyes widen. He smirks.

"Why did you do it?" he asks, tone neutral.

The words burn your tongue as you release them. "Because we're friends"

Harry looks too amused for his own good.

"I didn't know we were friends"

"Friends take each other out to dinner, birthdays, funerals and fucking Coney Island. They stay with you when your father dies" you hiccup. "No one else was there for me. But you"

His gaze looks heavier than how his words land.

"I was just being polite"

You shake your head. "You're a good man, Harry"

He looks about to interject before he cuts himself. Sighing, he takes you by your arms.

"Let's get you to bed, yeah? You've had enough"

Your heart beats violently as the rest of your body remains unresponsive, only following Harry's guidance.

"Stop" you protest feebly, eyelids heavy.

"You're such a lightweight" Harry teases.

You poke his soft chest with a weak finger.

"Does that mean you're a drunk?"

"It means I've had enough practice"

Strong arms hoist you up to his room, gently placing you over his bed.

"I'd do it" you mumble over a yawn. He looks at you confused, so you add. "Marriage for business"

Harry raises an eyebrow. "What about love?"

He tries to tuck you in as you protest, your hands brushing by accident. He's quick to remove it as if it burned, and your brain is too drunk to read into it.

"I find it to be the most difficult thing in the world"

He winces.

"I thought you'd remember" it's your turn to be confused. "Nevermind"

There's a vague thought of what he's talking about, but nothing comes to mind. He looks rather heartbroken by your silence.

Your eyelids feel as heavy as your chest, the irrevocable truth tugging at your heart.

You can't love. You can't be loved.

"You can't miss what you never had"

If this is the first time you stay, it is also the first Harry walks away.

taglist: @suupermoonn ♡ @io12n @dowscal @oscar-isaac @joelscowgirl @reedropike @klarkapascal @lostinmyownmaze @folklore-barnes @alinacecee @sukitruqui @youusunshineyoutemptress @hermionelove @noisynightmarepoetry @ann-gell @suzysface @joelmillerpascal @ennvsco @not-the-teen-witch @hisuccubus @missladym1981 @annewithaneofthegreengable @arthursdodobird @klmr0 @zmbi3gr1 @sara-alonso

[ppaattrriizziiaa1]

Champagne Problems | A Harry Castillo One Shot

Pairing: Harry Castillo x reader

Summary: Coming home after Lucy rejected his proposal might be one of the most embarrassing things Harry has to experience. But what if… Everything happens for a reason? What if something brand new surprises him on a terrace in his parents’ holiday house? What if it’s you, not Lucy, he’s been waiting for?

Rating: 18+

Warnings: alcohol consumption, angst, language, only one use of y/n, reader is younger than Harry but it’s not specified

Words: 2.1k

Notes: Welcome to my Harry Castillo one shot! I apologize for any mistakes, English is not my first language. Please do not copy my work, thanks!

Dividers by: @strangergraphics thank you!

masterlist

The night train is silent. Most would say it’s peaceful. People caught in a slumber, no loud conversations, no laughter.

Harry slowly regrets he didn’t pick the one in the afternoon.

He wonders if it would be easier in the bustling crowd. If the truth would be easier to handle.

No. No, it wouldn’t.

Because either way, he’s still alone here. Sitting in the corner in his compartment, staring out the window at the train station shrouded in quietness and absence of the usual jam.

She was supposed to be here with him.

Visit his family in Darien for his parents’ annual New Year’s Eve party. Smile politely and charm them with her witty responses.

He was supposed to finally show his family that he is capable of settling down, that he found the woman who fits perfectly into their family picture. Lucy was all that.

Instead he sits here like a failure, an idiot.

His mother’s ring weighing in his pocket.

The train departs, heading his destination. He could’ve just asked his driver to take him to Darien. Or drive there himself. Or even hire a helicopter. But he didn’t.

He remembered all these times when as a student he took trains to Darien and tonight, Harry felt it could save him. Sitting alone in his compartment, but at the same time being aware there are some people near. Having a moment of quietness to figure out what to do next. How to tell his family Lucy didn’t accept the proposal… How to save face.

He reaches to his pocket and grasps the red, velvet box. He opens it and stares at the beautiful, shiny Cartier ring. It’s vintage, his dad bought it when he was proposing to Harry’s mom. Did Harry really want Lucy to wear it?

Now, that he’s thinking about it… He is not sure.

This ring holds history. Holds a story about true love, something beautiful that later created him and his brother. Something real that lasts almost fifty years.

Would Lucy really be it?

With a sigh he snaps the box closed, which seems loud in the silent compartment. Over an hour left to get to the holiday home.

The moment Harry steps into the house, he’s hit with the warm scent of gingerbread and his mother’s famous roast. He hangs his wool coat on a hanger next to many other jackets. He can hear the echos of voices and laughs, clinking of the champagne glasses. All people here tonight are here to celebrate.

It makes a knot in his stomach tighten.

He came back with nothing. All the family friends, all his mom’s business associates… all his childhood friends will see he still didn’t bring a girl home. Despite all he said. Despite the fact he already told his mom he’s gonna propose.

He didn’t have it in him to call earlier and admit he failed.

And now, wearing an armor which his black turtleneck and slacks, holding a wine bottle… He steps into the big, elegant living room, where the party swings.

Guests notice him, his parents beam when he enters.

„Harry! You made it!” His mom is fast, already by his side with a grin, wearing a fancy emerald dress. She always likes to impress with her clothes and the parties she hosts.

„Hello, mother.” Harry hands her the bottle and kisses her cheek.

But the moment she notices there is no one at his side… Her smile fades.

„Son… Where is Lucy? She in the bathroom?” She glances around searching for his fiancée. At least that’s what she thinks.

His dad approaches just perfectly to hear his wife’s question. The raised eyebrow of an oldest Castillo makes a drop of sweat trail down Harry’s neck, beneath the fabric of his turtleneck.

„N-no. I came by myself.”

„Oh, she couldn’t make it?”

„No, we… split up. She rejected the proposal.” He finally says, trying to keep his voice steady, like he wasn’t facing the biggest embarrassment in the new year.

His parents’ faces are expressing pure shock. That’s definitely not what they expected.

„What do you mean she rejected?” His dad frowns.

„I mean, she saw the ring, told me she doesn’t want it and left. What’s there to understand?”

„But… You must have done something wrong! I can’t believe she would just…” his mom tries, but he cuts her off. „God, we’re two adult people who realized they don’t love each other the right way. I’m here alone, I brought wine. The end of story.” He sighs.

His parents stare at him. But under the layer of disbelief he can see the disappointment.

Once again Harry Castillo proved he’s not capable of relationships.

Some guests standing near also heard the conversation. Harry can feel the lingering, pitying eyes on him. He fucking hates being here.

„It’s a wonderful party, mother. You outdo yourself every year.” He steps to pass his parents. „Happy New Year.” He pats his father’s arm and goes straight to the table with Dom Pérignon glasses. He grabs one and huffs under his breath. It seems ironic. Everyone’s here drinking champagne to celebrate, while Harry feels like it’s the last thing he wants to do.

He just has nothing to celebrate. Just another lonely year.

Some people approach him, talking, wishing Happy New Year. He keeps the polite smile glued to his face. It’s what he’s supposed to do.

Harry tries to not wonder how it would look if Lucy was here, but… He would stand in the middle, with an arm wrapped around her waist. Say proudly she’s his fiancée. She would show off the ring which is the family heritage. Everyone would gasp delighted. Everyone would see he has finally found the one…

Yeah, he tries to not wonder what if.

He stands by the window. The beautiful garden, always blooming in the summer, now covered in snow. The lights gently illuminating it, making the white, cold blanket shimmering.

Despite what others might think… Harry feels kind of relieved. Once Lucy told him it’s over… He couldn’t help, but take a deeper breath. Because deep down… he knew she was right. They didn’t love each other. He just wanted to have a wife, so his mom would let him be and Lucy just wanted his money.

It’s just the feeling of loneliness that got him so thoughtful.

Is he really this horrible, arrogant person that is too afraid to love someone?

Or he just hasn’t met the right one yet?

He tears his gaze away from the window just to see some woman steal one of the champagne bottles and quickly sneaking out towards the hallway. He chuckles and decides to check what she’s up to. He is not sure if he ever saw her…

Harry sees her leaving through the backdoor to a terrace. He hesitates for a moment, standing alone in the hallway. He can go back to the party and deal with all the pitying eyes, or… Go outside where there’s no one, but this stranger. Her idea is better.

So without even grabbing his coat, he slides the door open and instantly shivers at the cold temperature. The mysterious woman is sitting in one of the chairs left there. The terrace is under the roof, so at least there is no snow here.

She looks up at him, surprised and a bit disappointed she’s no longer alone.

„This seat taken?” He nods at the second chair next to her. For a longer moment their eyes just linger, but finally she speaks. „No.”

Harry sits down, glancing at the windows and the guests too busy to notice someone is freezing their asses off outside. The woman uses the corkscrew and soon the Dom Pérignon opens with a pop. She takes a swig from the bottle and he just watches from the side.

„Sorry, I didn’t bring any glasses.” She says.

„That’s okay.” He cracks a smile. „I see you’re celebrating big time.”

„Oh, yeah.” She chuckles from above the rim. He notices her eyes crinkle beautifully in the dim light of the night. They reflect the snow covering the grass.

She bites her lip, like she’s hesitating, but then hands him the bottle. Harry accepts it and also takes a swig of champagne. Yeah… Celebrating.

„So… Is there any particular occasion besides the New Year?”

The woman huffs, half amused, half… sad. Like the weight is too much, but she still tries to say it’s okay.

„Yeah, ugh, let’s see… I lost my job a week ago.” She has a big smile on her face. „And my boyfriend broke up with me the same fucking week! That means I had to move out, so now I also don’t have a place to stay.”

„Oh, fuck.” Harry breathes surprised.

„So many reasons to celebrate over the champagne.” She says and grabs the bottle to have another sip. „And you? You seemed pretty occupied there.”

„Ugh… I asked a girl to marry me. She said no.”

He stares ahead at the glimmering snow, at the way it’s still slowly falling. The woman observes his profile. She admires the curve of his nose and the stoic expression on his face. They both stopped shivering already, the alcohol doing its magic.

„You don’t seem very concerned.” She notices and that makes him chuckle.

He has no idea who she is, but, God, she actually makes this party bearable.

„Yeah… I don’t think I ever really loved her. But still… Being forty eight and not having a family already is a failure, isn’t it?”

„Nah, didn’t you hear my story? That is a failure.” She laughs quietly and he joins her.

„So.” She hands him the bottle again. „Let’s just drink and celebrate our miserable lives.”

Harry lays his eyes on the Dom Pérignon, then shifts his gaze to the stranger. He has no idea who she is and how the hell she got to his holiday house… But he’s glad she did. It’s the first time since Lucy left him that he feels better about himself.

Without a word, he accepts the bottle.

„To our miserable lives.” He raises it and takes a swig.

They sit there for a while, just talking. They laugh at aunt Mildred stucking the appetizers to her Gucci bag. Or try to stay silent and don’t move when Harry’s dad is looking out the window. He probably searches for his son. But Harry is comfortable just where he is now.

„So… What are you doing here actually?” He whispers after a moment and she glances at him. „My mom is a caretaker of this house, when your parents are not here. I’m currently living with her.”

„Wait, you’re Catherine’s daughter? You’re y/n?”

He stares shocked, because now he remembers you. You’re not a stranger woman. You’re you. The one he spent some time with when he was younger. There was Harry, his brother, their cousins and sometimes you. You were the youngest, always following them, until they were done with your presence.

„Yep. We played pool together, remember?”

„Yes. You were pretty good for a six-years-old.” He chuckles. „I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you earlier.”

„Oh, come on. I wouldn’t recognize myself either. We were kids then. Especially me.” You say smiling. „You’re right… A lot changed in you.” He says and then coughs. „For better, I mean.”

You smirk to yourself and let your eyes linger. You always had a little crush on him. And now that you’re both grown… This hasn’t changed. He’s an attractive man.

But for now… it doesn’t mean anything. You’re just drinking outside in the middle of the winter. Two people who feel like failures, like there is something wrong with them… Finding solace in this. Whatever this is.

After a moment of silence, a smile grows wider on your face, like you just came up with an idea.

„Do you want to go to the beach?”

„The beach?” He huffs surprised.

He came to Darien feeling like a complete idiot. He was standing on that party while others just stared at him. Harry Castillo is always an attraction, especially when his yet another relationship ends. He felt awful until he saw you sneaking out. Until he saw this smile on your face you kept despite your own problems.

Now, even his mother’s ring stopped weighing him so much in his pocket.

„Unless you want to go back inside?” You raise an eyebrow and that’s when he knows.

„Let me grab our coats.”

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it, I always look forward to your comments. Cheers🩷

[missadangel]

The Ex Education

Ex husband!Harry Castillo x Ex Wife!F!Reader

series masterlist . previous chapter. next chapter

Lesson 18

Summary: Problem #1: Harry’s proposal came when you least expected it. Problem #2: Your answer definitely wasn’t what he expected either. Solution: still under negotiation.

Warnings and WC: 13.8k ⚠️ 18+ SMUT/EXPLICIT CONTENT/ MDNI kissing, morning sex, oral sex -f- receiving, pregnant & soft & possessive sex, pregnancy, dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, multiple positions, mutual orgasm, Harry goes down on Reader while she’s on a work call, soft smut, aggressive oral fixation, cum eating, body worshipping, teasing, heavy sexual tension, established relationship, exes to lovers, nipple play, creampie, high-risk pregnancy mention, overprotective daddy-to-be!Harry, possessive romance, billionaire romance, rich people problems, upper east side drama, John is back, elite Manhattan society, jealousy, corporate politics, healing journey, family dynamics, emotional vulnerability, domestic fluff, romantic tension, Pedro Pascal mention, Ron is a Pedro Pascal fan apparently, banter, humor, old money aesthetics, love vs logic, soft Harry hours, overprotective husband energy, emotionally repressed man in love, rom-com vibes. OC Characters (Ron=Harry’s assistant, Emily=Reader's bestie, Chloe=Reader's elite friend, Mikey=Readers brother Scarlet&Richard=Reader's parents, Yuliana=Reader's maid, Vivienne=Harry's mother, Sienna=Harry's sister, Dana=Reader's EA (Executive Assistant), Eloise=Harry’s Grandmother.)

authors note: Sorry for the delay babies… My eyes were absolutely killing me for the past few days, but they’re finally doing a little better now. I really hope you enjoy this chapter. And please forgive any mistakes — I literally wrote parts of this wearing sunglasses because staring at the screen was hurting my eyes too much, lol🕶️ love you all💋

• The Song: Say Yes to Heaven by Lana Del Rey

Love Is Never Logical

Tribeca. Monday - 8:32 a.m.

“Marry me,” Harry murmured against your lips.

Sleep still clung to you in soft fragments, your mind slow to catch up as warmth pressed around you from every side. For a second, all you registered was him.

Your lashes fluttered open slowly and there he was, leaning over you beneath the pale morning light spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his bedroom. His hair was slightly messy from sleep, dark curls falling carelessly onto his forehead, his jaw still rough with the beginnings of stubble. Bare. Warm. One arm braced beside your head while the other stayed wrapped around your waist beneath the sheets, like even in sleep he hadn’t risked letting you drift too far away.

His mouth brushed yours again, warm and slow, carrying traces of whiskey from last night mixed with his cologne and yours still lingering faintly on his skin. Beneath it all was the unmistakable scent of sex still clinging to both of you — slept-in sheets, bare skin, sweat, tangled limbs, and hours spent wrapped around each other instead of sleeping.

Your breath caught softly against his lips, somewhere between a laugh and disbelief.

“Mm… good morning to you too, handsome,” you murmured sleepily, stretching slightly beneath him.

Harry’s eyes softened instantly at the sound of your voice. “Marry me,” he repeated, lower this time, his lips leaving yours to press slow kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck.

You let out a quiet breath at the sensation, fingers sliding lazily into his hair. “You’re very persistent this morning, Mr. Castillo.”

“Consistent,” he corrected smugly against your skin.

His mouth drifted lower, brushing over your collarbone now, lingering there just long enough to make your breathing deepen. You felt his smile against your skin when a small sigh escaped you.

You laughed softly under your breath. “Consistently trying to manipulate me while I’m half asleep, apparently.”

Harry hummed thoughtfully. “Worth trying.” His hand slid slowly along your bare thigh, his warm palm smoothing over soft skin as he pulled you closer against his naked body beneath the sheets, like there hadn’t been a single moment during the night where he hadn’t needed to touch you somehow. The lingering warmth between your thighs made you shift slightly, still sticky and oversensitive from hours earlier, the feeling clinging to your skin with every small movement beneath the blankets. Sleep still fogged your mind, but the faint reminder of him left against your body made your cheeks warm as you tucked yourself closer into his chest.

“Manipulation before breakfast. Impressive.”

“I prefer strategic persistence.”

Your stomach tightened instantly. “Harry,” you murmured, finally opening your eyes properly now.

Your hand pressed lightly against his chest, trying to push him back enough to look at him, but the moment his hand settled higher against your thigh, your breath caught again.

“Not wearing the ring yet is not the same thing as rejecting you.”

A slow smile pulled at his mouth. “Still sounded suspiciously close to rejection.”

You rolled your eyes lightly, fingers brushing through his curls before your gaze flicked toward the digital clock sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. “You proposed less than ten hours ago.”

“And I’m already prepared to ask again,” he murmured against your jaw. A kiss. “Repeatedly.” Another. “Until you say…” Then another, on the lips. “…yes.”

You laughed softly into the kiss this time, your arms slipping around his neck as you finally gave up trying to resist him entirely, letting yourself melt back into the sheets beneath him.

Eight hours earlier…

The Vestry— 8:17 p.m.

The Vestry had never looked like this before.

The restaurant still breathed with its usual elegance—low golden lighting, dark polished wood, the distant clink of crystal and silver somewhere far from the private section hidden deeper inside—but tonight, everything near your table had been transformed into something quieter. More intimate.

Every surrounding table had been cleared for the evening. Reserved. Untouched.

Deep red peonies bloomed across the room in low arrangements surrounded by candlelight, their petals scattered carefully along the dark floor leading toward the center table like someone had spent hours making sure every detail felt intentional.

And someone had.

Harry stood near the table in a black suit he very clearly had not worn all day. Everything about him looked deliberate tonight.

The sharp lines of the tailored jacket. The crisp black shirt beneath. The silver watch at his wrist. Even his curls had been styled back more carefully than usual, though a few strands had already fallen loose again from how many times he’d dragged his hand through them in the last twenty minutes alone.

Because Harry Castillo— was nervous. Actually nervous.

The small velvet ring box rested in his hand while he stared at it for what was probably the hundredth time tonight.

That ring.

Fresh from Harry Winston after being professionally restored only days ago, the diamond caught the candlelight in violent flashes every time he moved it.

Harry turned the ring slowly between his fingers, quiet for a moment as he imagined it where it belonged.

Back on your hand.

A faint smile pulled at his mouth before he could stop it.

Around him, the staff moved carefully, attentively, adjusting candles, straightening glasses, checking the flowers for what was probably the tenth time tonight. The Vestry had always treated the two of you differently. It was where you first met, where your first dinner turned into something neither of you had managed to walk away from afterward. Everyone here knew that.

And everyone in Manhattan knew Harry Castillo.

Some of the staff had watched your first marriage unfold in real time from these very tables. Some remembered the nights Harry used to come here alone after the divorce, sitting at the same table for hours with a whiskey in front of him he barely touched.

So the second the private reservations came in tonight, whispers had spread through the restaurant almost instantly.

Mr. Castillo is proposing again.

Which explained why every single detail tonight had been handled with almost ridiculous care. The red peonies. The candles. The completely cleared section of the restaurant surrounding your table. Even the musicians near the bar had been quietly instructed to hold At Last until the exact moment you arrived.

A few lingering guests near the main dining area had started noticing the atmosphere, especially the women openly watching Harry with varying levels of envy and emotional investment.

Because unfortunately for everyone involved— he looked devastating tonight.

One of the managers approached carefully.

“Mr. Castillo, the wine pairing has been prepared and the kitchen is ready whenever you are.”

Harry nodded once. “Thanks.”

“The flowers were refreshed twenty minutes ago as requested.”

Another nod.

“And the musicians have your timing.”

“Perfect.”

The manager smiled knowingly before stepping away again.

Harry exhaled slowly and pulled out his phone. Ron picked up almost immediately.

“Well?” Harry asked.

“She just left,” Ron said proudly. “Dana confirmed it herself.”

Harry’s stomach tightened instantly. “She’s on her way?”

“She’s on her way.”

Ron paused. Then—

“You okay?”

Harry looked down at the ring again. “…no.”

“Boss, relax. She’s going to say yes.”

“You sound very confident about that.”

“You’re wearing that suit. At this point saying no would qualify as a felony in at least three states.”

Harry laughed at that, then, before he could answer, one of the servers approached him quickly.

“Mr. Castillo,” he said softly, unable to hide his smile, “Ms. Queen just arrived.”

Everything inside Harry seemed to stop.

Then immediately start all over again twice as hard. His pulse slammed against his ribs. He swallowed. Adjusted his cuff. Straightened his jacket unnecessarily.

The server discreetly disappeared again while Harry reached for one of the untouched glasses of water on the table, taking a slow sip just to give his hands something to do besides shake.

Then— he turned toward the entrance.

And there you were.

The moment you stepped inside, the entire room seemed to narrow around you automatically.

The hostess greeted you softly while another employee carefully took your coat, but your attention had already drifted past them into the restaurant itself.

At first, all you noticed were the empty tables. The flowers. The candlelight. The scattered crimson petals across the floor.

Then your eyes lifted further.

And found him.

Harry stood waiting near the center table, one hand resting loosely near his pocket, the black suit fitting him so perfectly it almost knocked the breath from your lungs entirely.

No. Not almost. It did.

For one suspended second, you genuinely forgot how to breathe.

He looked— more handsome than you remembered. More handsome than your wedding day somehow.

And nervous.

That part hit you hardest.

His smile widened the second your eyes met, something vulnerable flickering behind all that composure so briefly most people would’ve missed it completely.

But you never missed things when it came to him.

Soft jazz drifted through the room around you.

At Last.

Without thinking, you started walking toward him. Drawn. Like your body already knew where it belonged.

Harry didn’t move either.

He just watched you approach him slowly, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that made the entire room disappear piece by piece until it felt like only the two of you still existed inside it.

You stopped inches away from him. Close enough to feel his warmth. Close enough to smell the faint cedar and amber of his cologne.

Your lips parted slightly, but your thoughts had stopped functioning somewhere halfway across the restaurant.

“Harry…”

Your eyes flicked around the room once more before returning to him helplessly.

Harry smiled crookedly.

God. That smile.

“Welcome, baby.”

His voice gave him away immediately. Harry tilted his head slightly, wetting his lips once before extending one hand toward you.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

You automatically placed your hand in his.

His fingers closed around yours instantly before he lifted your hand and pressed a soft kiss against your knuckles.

And suddenly— you understood.

Really understood.

All of it.

The flowers. The empty room. The music. The way he looked at you.

Your heart climbed straight into your throat. Your eyes burned almost immediately, emotion crashing into you so fast it nearly made you dizzy. A small part of you—the part that still hated losing control, hated surprises, hated not being emotionally prepared—tried to panic for half a second.

But Harry’s thumb brushed slowly over your hand. And the panic disappeared beneath something louder. Something warmer.

Harry took one slow breath. Then another. Like he was steadying himself.

Finally— without letting go of your hand— he lowered himself onto one knee.

Your breath caught completely.

This felt nothing like the first proposal.

That one had been impulsive. Reckless. Like the two of you had collided into something inevitable too fast to stop yourselves from falling into it.

But this— this had been chosen. Thought about. Planned carefully. Earned through every mistake, every heartbreak, every impossible road that somehow led you back to each other anyway. Built carefully piece by piece by someone who knew exactly what this moment meant.

And because you knew him so well, you could see every emotion fighting behind his eyes all at once.

Hope. Fear. Love.

And something unbearably vulnerable underneath all of it.

Harry lifted your hand again, pressing another kiss against your skin before finally speaking.

“My love…”

Your tears spilled instantly at the way he said it.

“I wanted to do this here,” he said softly, glancing briefly around the restaurant. “At the place where I first held your hand. Where we had our very first dinner.” His gaze returned to yours. “It didn’t feel right anywhere else.”

Your lips trembled.

Harry smiled gently when you nodded through your tears.

Then he inhaled deeply and reached into his jacket pocket.

The moment you saw the black velvet box— your heart stopped.

Harry opened it carefully.

And there it was.

The same ring. The same one he had proposed with seven years ago. The same ring you wore for two years. The same ring you placed back into his hand on the courthouse steps the day your marriage ended.

The same ring he had apparently kept through every year apart.

Every what if. Every almost. Every version of losing you.

But now— it somehow looked different.

Not because the diamond had been restored.

Because you had.

Your vision blurred completely.

“Harry you--” you whispered shakily.

“Wait,” he said softly, smiling through his own emotion now. “Please let me ask properly.”

You nodded immediately despite the tears slipping endlessly down your cheeks.

Because suddenly you realized— he had probably spent all night thinking about this moment.

Harry looked at you for a long second before speaking again.

“Do you remember what I said the first time I asked you?”

You didn’t even have to think.

“‘I feel like I found something everyone spends their whole life looking for.’”

Your voice broke halfway through repeating the words.

The memory hit both of you instantly.

Harry smiled softly.

“When we... lost each other…” he admitted quietly, “I thought I lost that too.”

Your face crumpled immediately.

“Harry…”

He shook his head gently before you could stop him.

“But somehow…” His eyes held yours completely now. “Years later, you still chose me again.”

A tear slipped down his cheek this time too.

“You have no idea how lucky that makes me feel.”

Your hand covered your mouth as another sob escaped you.

Harry looked down briefly at the ring before lifting his gaze back to yours one final time. Completely open. Completely in love.

He held the ring toward you carefully.

“Will you marry me again, baby?”

Your hand covered your mouth as another shaky breath left you. Tears blurred your vision so badly you could barely see him anymore.

Harry stayed there in front of you, still holding the ring carefully between his fingers, his eyes locked on yours with so much hope it almost hurt to look at him.

For a second— you couldn’t speak.

Your heart was screaming yes.

God.

Every part of you wanted to say yes. Right now. Immediately.

But another feeling crashed into it just as hard.

Fear.

Not of him. Never him.

Of everything else.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out at first.

Harry’s smile faltered only slightly. Just enough for you to notice.

“Baby…” he said softly after a moment, his voice careful now. “Talk to me.”

You shook your head quickly, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Harry…” You pressed a hand against your chest helplessly. “This is… this is everything.”

The tension in his face loosened a fraction.

But only a fraction.

“I...” you whispered instantly. “I love you. Harry, I love you so much.”

“Then say yes.”

You let out another uneven breath, looking down briefly as you tried to steady your thoughts enough to speak.

Harry waited.

Silent now.

Watching you carefully.

Still kneeling.

Still holding the ring.

Like he would’ve stayed there all night if that’s what you needed.

And slowly— the hope in his expression began to shift into something quieter.

“…is it the ring?”

You blinked. “What?”

A faint, almost teasing smile pulled weakly at the corner of his mouth despite the hurt still sitting underneath it.

“Did I make a mistake not getting a new one?”

“Harry, no,” you sighed. “Of course not.”

His thumb brushed slowly against your hand.

“Then what is it?” he asked gently.

“Because I don’t want this to happen in the middle of chaos,” you whispered.

Harry’s mouth twitched faintly despite the disappointment still lingering there.

“Baby,” he murmured softly, “our entire relationship has been chaos.”

“Exactly,” you sniffled. “And look how that turned out for us the first time.”

Somewhere behind you, a tray of untouched champagne glasses shifted softly.

The staff had still been waiting. Watching carefully from a respectful distance near the back of the private room, all clearly expecting the moment the ring slipped onto your finger.

A few of the younger servers had started leaning forward slightly, curiosity getting the better of them the longer the two of you stayed there talking quietly instead of celebrating.

The manager immediately shot them a look.

The staff scattered subtly after that, pretending very hard not to be emotionally invested while absolutely being emotionally invested.

You bent down, your hands finding his jaw gently as you pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. Then another against his lips.

Harry closed his eyes briefly at the contact.

“Don’t do that,” you murmured softly against his mouth. “Don’t look so heartbroken.”

A quiet laugh escaped him despite himself, eyes glassy now too.

“How exactly am I supposed to look right now, baby?”

Your chest tightened painfully.

You brushed your thumb gently beneath his eye before kissing him once more.

Then softer—

“Come here,” you whispered softly. “Let’s sit down and eat something while we talk, okay? I’m sttarving.”

A tiny smile pulled at your mouth through the tears.

“Apparently I’m eating for three now.”

That finally made Harry smile properly.

You took his hand carefully, helping him back to his feet.

The second he stood fully again, he pressed his lips together briefly, the faintest pout pulling at the corner of his mouth despite himself.

It was subtle. Small.

But devastatingly obvious to you anyway.

Your chest ached instantly.

“Harry…”

“I’m okay.”

Which unfortunately sounded very much like he was not okay at all.

You let out the smallest laugh through your tears and reached for his hand again before he could retreat further into himself.

“Harry, listen to me.”

He looked up quietly.

“Okay, look…” You glanced around the room helplessly. The candles. The flowers. The music still playing softly somewhere behind you. “This is beautiful.”

Your voice softened immediately.

“No, actually, it’s more than beautiful. I swear, I couldn’t have imagined something this perfect.”

Harry stayed quiet.

You squeezed his hand gently.

“And thank you,” you whispered honestly. “For all of this.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders eased slightly at that.

“But…” You exhaled shakily. “You deserve an explanation.”

Harry’s eyes stayed locked on yours.

“And if I say yes… if we get engaged again…” You shook your head slightly. “I need it to feel right this time.”

A quiet silence settled between you before you continued.

“Our lives are already constantly in front of cameras, Harry. Every relationship headline turns into a business headline too.”

You swallowed softly.

“And now with the company barely stabilizing after the scandal…”

Harry’s jaw tightened slightly.

“The board’s watching every move I make right now,” you continued quietly. “I just became executive chair. Investors are nervous. The press practically lives outside my building.”

You let out a weak breath.

“If we announce another engagement now, it becomes another spectacle. Another distraction. Another thing people use against us.”

“Baby,” Harry said softly, “the company is not more important than us.”

“I know it’s not.” Your voice caught slightly. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

You stepped closer again.

“I’m saying this matters too much for me to let it become part of all that noise.”

That landed.

You saw it immediately in his face.

Not anger. Not frustration.

Just hurt.

Quiet hurt.

“And now we’re having twins,” you whispered shakily. “Everything in my life changed overnight again.”

A weak laugh escaped you through the emotion.

“Which apparently is very on brand for us.”

That finally pulled the faintest breath of amusement from him.

But your eyes filled again almost immediately.

“I just got you back, Harry.” Your fingers tightened around his hand. “And I’m terrified of something ruining this again before we even get the chance to really live it.”

Harry swallowed once before speaking quietly.

“You think marrying me ruins this?”

“No,” you answered instantly, stepping closer again. “God, no.”

Your free hand moved gently against his chest.

“I’m saying this matters too much.”

The honesty in your voice softened something in his expression immediately.

“I’m happy,” you admitted shakily. “Too happy, actually.”

A weak laugh escaped you.

“That’s what scares me.”

Silence settled softly between you again.

Jazz music drifted through the restaurant quietly behind you while candlelight flickered against the empty tables around you.

Harry looked down briefly at the ring still sitting in his hand before lifting his eyes back to yours.

“You’re not saying no,” he said softly.

Your answer came immediately.

“No.”

Relief flickered across his face so fast it almost hurt to look at.

You stepped even closer then, your voice gentler now.

“I want you to ask me again.”

Harry’s brows lifted slightly.

“When all of this settles down a little,” you whispered. “When I can actually breathe long enough to enjoy it properly.”

Your eyes dropped briefly toward the ring.

“Because when I wear that ring again…” Your throat tightened softly. “I don’t want it to feel tied to scandals or headlines or board meetings.”

You looked back up at him.

“I just want it to mean you and me.”

Harry stared at you quietly.

So you smiled through your tears and squeezed his hand again.

“So…” Your voice softened almost shyly now. “Give me a little more time.”

A tiny smile pulled weakly at your mouth.

“Then ask me again.”

Back to now.

Honestly, you still weren’t entirely sure how you had ended up back in his bed after not saying yes the night before.

Not that you regretted it.

Because, in your defense— Harry had looked unfairly good last night.

By the end of dinner, every time he glanced at you with those dark brown eyes and that heartbreakingly soft expression, heat had curled lower and lower in your stomach until simply sitting across from him had started feeling impossible.

And the worst part?

The sad puppy look had somehow made him even more attractive.

Which felt deeply unfair to your hormonal state.

So maybe— maybe that was why, the second you got into the limousine, you had looked over at him and quietly told him how devastatingly handsome he looked tonight.

Harry had blinked at you at first. Surprised.

Then slowly smiled.

And once your hand slid across his thigh beneath the dim lights of the car— everything after that had completely unraveled.

Because Harry had touched you back immediately.

And the second your mouths found each other— logic disappeared.

After that there had only been heat. Need. Hunger.

One kiss turned into another. Then hands. Then desperate grabbing and breathless laughter somewhere between kisses while the driver very professionally pretended not to notice anything happening in the backseat.

By the time you’d stumbled into Harry’s apartment, you were already pulling at the buttons of his shirt impatiently while he kissed down your neck hard enough to make you gasp.

Clothes disappeared somewhere between the hallway and the bedroom.

And sometime later— after being pulled apart and put back together by his hands and mouth more times than you could count— you found yourself completely naked beneath him, his tongue roaming all over your skin, his hips snapping against yours as you both moaned in pleasure over and over. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with your cries of his name echoing shamelessly through the penthouse, while Harry whispered against your skin like he planned to spend the rest of his life memorizing every sound you made.

The night blurred beautifully out of focus.

Until eventually—it became morning.

Again.

“Be my wife again,” Harry murmured, trailing kisses down your body, stopping to suck your nipples and dip his tongue into your belly button. He parted your thighs wider as he settled between your legs, his eyes staring intently at your pussy.

“Harry…” you breathed weakly.

His lips brushed the inside of your thigh, his mustache grazing your skin so deliciously.

“I want this every morning. Waking up with you.” Another kiss. “Starting my day exactly like this.”

A shaky breath escaped you.

“You do realize marriage isn’t technically required for that,” you managed, trying and failing to sound unaffected.

Harry lifted his head slightly to look up at you.

His curls were completely ruined now, his jaw rough with stubble, his mouth swollen from kissing you for most of the night.

And somehow— that only made him hotter.

“Is that so?” he asked, licking his thumb. “Then move in.”

His damp thumb grazed your folds, drawing a sharp breath from you.

Your thighs trembled as his thumbs spread your folds, revealing glistening pink flesh, and he didn’t hesitate—he dragged his tongue through your slit in one long, filthy stroke, savoring the tang of your arousal. You gasped, your fingers knotting in his hair as your back arched off the bed.

“Harr—rrgghhh...”

“What was that, baby? Couldn’t hear you,” Harry asked playfully, lifting his head to look up at your face from between your legs.

You pushed his head.

“That’s not fair and you know it.”

“Maybe,” he said huskily, his eyes darkening, “I need to be more convincing.”

Your pulse jumped violently.

Harry’s gaze stayed locked on yours as his fingers slid inside you, curving to caress the front of your mound, increasing the pressure as your loud moans turned into screams.

Suddenly— your phone started ringing loudly against the nightstand.

The pressure of his suction continued as he moved his tongue, trailing it along your lips. You groaned in both frustration and pleasure.

“Oh my God.”

Harry barely reacted.

In fact, if anything, the faint amusement at the corner of his mouth only deepened.

You grabbed your phone quickly and glanced at the screen.

Gerard.

“Harry, wait,” you whispered immediately. “I actually need to answer this.”

Harry hummed against your folds without looking up.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widened.

“But... ugh... you are unbelievable. Please. Behave,” you warned weakly.

That only earned you a completely unapologetic smirk against your skin.

You swallowed hard before finally answering the call, forcing your voice into something resembling professionalism.

“Good morning,” you said carefully, looking at Harry’s head between your thighs, making your heart jump. “Yes, I’m awake.”

Eventually releasing you from his mouth, you thought he would behave, but instead he raised his hand to part your labia, licking across your slit and pausing to pay special attention to your clit. Another slow hum vibrated against your skin and you nearly lost your train of thought completely.

Your eyes flew shut instantly.

“Oh—”

You caught yourself at the last second, pressing your lips together hard.

On the other end, Gerard continued talking casually, thankfully oblivious.

You glared downward immediately.

Harry looked entirely unbothered.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured softly. “Still talking business while I’m trying to ruin your morning.”

“Yes,” you managed shakily into the phone, Harry’s praise made your head spin, only arousing you even more. “I’ll probably come in a little later today.” A sigh and pause. “Mmhm.”

Your free hand flew over your mouth suddenly as Harry’s arm wrapped around your waist, stilling your hips and holding you in place. He increased the pressure of the hand inside you, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucked harder on your clit.

“Oh,” you breathed out automatically before quickly correcting yourself.

Your eyes flew to Harry, silently mouthing ‘Fuck, oh my fucking God’ at him, lips moving without a sound as you fought to keep your composure. Gerard kept talking about business, and you had no IQ left to understand what he was saying. Thanks to Harry’s amazing mouth and what it was doing to you, your brain was completely gone; all you wanted now was to cum, hard.

“Oh—yes. Perfect. That’s fine.”

The slight stubble on his chin rubbed against your clit when he pushed his tongue inside you deeper. Worse, you felt his nose nestle into the curve of ass next and you bit down hard on your finger immediately to stop the sound threatening to escape.

“I’m listening,” you lied shakily.

Gerard asked if you were okay because you probably sounded like you were in pain.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pressing your fingers against your forehead as heat flooded your entire face. “Morning brain.”

You felt Harry chuckle against your wet pussy lips.

“Easy, baby,” he hummed. “Breathe. Answer him properly.”

You shot him a warning look instantly.

He only looked entertained.

“Actually,” you said quickly, your voice shaky and thinner now. You felt your orgasm approaching, legs shaking, and there was no way you could stay silent from now on. “We can discuss the board updates after lunch… Yes.” Too fast. You swallowed quickly. “Yes. I just—” your breath caught again before you forced the sentence out, “I need coffee before I can think properly.”

That, at least, sounded believable.

“Perfect,” you whispered desperately. “Thank you.”

The second the call disconnected, you tossed your phone somewhere across the bed before collapsing back against the pillows with a shaky exhale.

Harry barely gave you a second to recover.

“Mm, good girl,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his voice low with satisfaction. “Knew I could make you forget all about that call.”

“Ungh— Harry—”

Your back arched instantly as his tongue slid through your folds again, slow at first, like he was savoring every sound you made for him. The wet sounds of his mouth filled the room alongside your breathless cries, and the realization of how quickly he unraveled you only made you wetter.

One hand slid up your body, squeezing your breast while the other kept you steady against the mattress as he worked you apart with devastating patience. Every flick of his tongue dragged another broken sound from your lips until you were squirming beneath him, thighs trembling around his shoulders.

He held your thighs firmly, completely unbothered by the way you kept squirming against him.

“Stay still for me, baby,” he murmured before diving back into your pussy, twisting his tongue around your tight, wet hole.

You groaned and grinded your hips on his face, riding his tongue. Your fingers tangled in his hair as your hips rolled helplessly against his mouth while he groaned softly like he enjoyed this just as much as you did.

Harry loved taking care of you. Loved watching you fall apart. Loved pulling every trembling sound from your throat until you couldn’t think about anything except him.

For five years, he’d tried to force himself to want someone else. Tried to lose himself in different faces, different touches, different women. But every time, something felt missing—like his body refused to forget you even when his mind begged it to.

Now he finally understood.

It had never been about them. It had always been about your absence.

And now that you were here, beneath his hands and in his arms, everything in him felt terrifyingly, perfectly right.

“Oh my God—”

“That’s it, my queen,” he said smoothly, one hand sliding up your stomach before curling around your breast. “There you go.”

The pressure building inside you snapped tight so fast it almost made you dizzy. You buried your face against the pillow, trying and failing to muffle your moan as your thighs shook around him.

Harry didn’t stop.

He kept licking into you through every tremor, dragging out the aftershocks until you were breathless and oversensitive beneath him.

Only then did he finally pull back.

His lips were swollen, his expression smug, and the sight alone nearly made you groan again.

He leaned down and kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

You melted into it immediately, kissing him back harder, your fingers sliding into his hair.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him for a second before letting out a disbelieving laugh.

“Harry Castillo,” you breathed, still dazed, “you are an actual menace.”

“Menace?” he repeated softly, raising an eyebrow. “Baby, I was simply being supportive.”

You rolled your hips against his cock, your hand slides between your bodies and covers his erection, squeezing and stroking, your voice dripping with teasing impatience.

“If you really wanna support me, you can start by fucking me with this perfect CEO cock of yours.”

Harry groaned as you both felt his cock twitch inside your palm.

“That’s not CEO cock, baby.”

He pushed your hand aside and grabbed your ass with both hands.

“That’s your future husband’s cock.”

A loud moan escaped you as he slid deep inside you in one smooth thrust.

“Ohhhh!?” you teased softly between moans and breaths. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get a confession out of me under pressure.”

“Baby, this cock got you pregnant with twins.” Harry smirked against your skin. “Don’t you think it deserves to be worshipped?”

Harry chuckled quietly when your response dissolved into another broken moan.

“Use your words, baby. Tell me you love it.”

“I—” you gasped helplessly, nails digging into his shoulders. “Fuck, Harry—I love your cock.”

The sound that left him was somewhere between a groan and a smug laugh.

“Yeah...” he murmured. “I know you do.”

After that, you could barely say anything at all, completely overstimulated by everything he was doing to you. He kissed and bit at your neck, sucking marks into your skin while his hands gripped your hips tightly as he fucked you.

Even then, he forced himself to stay gentle, constantly reminding himself that you were pregnant with his babies now.

His babies.

That thought alone made him shudder, arousal curling even tighter in his stomach, his thrusts growing deeper, more desperate despite his restraint.

His breathing turned ragged against your neck, and you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer either.

You clutched at his shoulders, burning at the feeling of being fucked by him first thing in the morning. Deep down, you realized you wanted to wake up like this every day for the rest of your life.

A soft cry slipped from your lips as he moved inside you, filling you so perfectly it almost hurt.

Your thoughts scattered helplessly—Harry, your twins, everything the two of you had survived together—until pleasure drowned all coherent thought completely.

Your body suddenly shuddered hard beneath him as your orgasm crashed through you fast and overwhelming. You cried out his name over and over, hips bucking against his thrusts as wave after wave of pleasure tore through your exhausted body.

Harry came with you, your walls tightening around him and dragging the orgasm out of him with a rough groan.

Breathless, trembling, he finally collapsed beside you, careful not to put too much weight on you as he pulled you against his chest.

“So,” he murmured, voice rough with amusement and exhaustion, “after all those orgasms…”

He tilted his head just enough to look at you with a smug little smile.

“Any chance you’re finally thinking about marrying me?”

Before you could answer, another shaky breath left your lips, your body still trembling faintly beneath his.

“Hey.”

His entire expression changed as he pushed himself up, one hand cupping your face while the other slid protectively over your stomach.

“Baby, look at me.”

“I’m okay,” you whispered breathlessly, trying to steady your breathing.

His brows stayed furrowed anyway, concern written all over his face.

“You sure?”

You nodded softly, smiling lazily at him.

“Well, this is what happens when you overstimulate your pregnant girlfriend before breakfast.”

Harry exhaled quietly, still not fully convinced.

He brushed your hair away from your damp forehead before pressing a lingering kiss there.

“Come here,” he murmured gently, climbing out of bed first before reaching for your hand.

You blinked up at him.

“Harry—”

“Nope.” His tone turned softly stubborn. “You’re carrying my babies. I’m allowed to worry about you.”

A weak laugh escaped you as he carefully helped you sit up.

“Come on,” he said quietly, keeping one arm securely around your waist once you were standing. “Let’s get you into the shower.”

You stepped out of the shower wrapped in steam and warmth, toweling your hair dry as you wandered back into Harry’s bedroom.

That was when you noticed your clothes scattered across the hallway floor.

Wrinkled. Ruined.

And absolutely impossible to wear to work twice in a row—especially not as the executive chair of a company currently surviving off public image and fragile investor confidence.

You let out a long sigh. “Fantastic.”

After staring at the disaster for another second, you finally gave up and crossed toward Harry’s closet instead. Your fingers brushed over rows of dark fabrics before you pulled out one of his black t-shirts and slipped it over your bare skin.

It swallowed you whole.

And somehow smelled exactly like him.

By the time you reached the kitchen, the smell of breakfast had already wrapped around the penthouse. Butter, coffee, maple syrup, something warm and savory all at once.

Your stomach growled instantly, hunger hitting you so hard it almost made you dizzy.

Pregnancy was brutal.

Harry stood by the island pouring orange juice into a glass when he looked up—and immediately froze.

His eyes dragged slowly over you in his shirt. A slow grin spread across his face. “Well,” he murmured approvingly, “that looks dangerously good on you.”

You rolled your eyes automatically, but heat still crept up your neck.

Mostly because you knew exactly why he looked so pleased.

Harry loved seeing you like this.

Barefoot in his kitchen. Wearing his clothes. Looking like you belonged there.

Like old times.

Like the first few months after your engagement, when you used to steal his shirts and he’d act personally victimized every single time you tried giving them back.

You slid into one of the chairs at the island before finally looking down at the table properly—

—and blinked.

“Harry.”

The table was covered.

Fluffy scrambled eggs with herbs. Pancakes stacked high with fresh berries. Buttered toast. Avocado slices. Greek yogurt bowls. Fruit. Fresh juice. Coffee. Tea.

And sitting beside Harry’s plate was a folded piece of paper absolutely covered in notes.

Your brows lifted slowly. “…is that my pregnancy diet list?”

Harry glanced down casually. “Doctor’s recommendations,” he corrected while checking something off with complete seriousness. “Very different.”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You made all of this?”

“Yeah,” he said simply.

You looked over the table again before narrowing your eyes slightly. “No bacon?” you mumbled in disappointment.

Harry sat beside you, already reaching for the paper again. “No,” he said firmly after rereading a line. “Too risky.”

“But the doctor said I can eat it if it’s cooked properly.”

“Mm.” He didn’t even look guilty. “We’re still choosing the zero-risk option.”

You pouted immediately. “But I want bacon.”

Without missing a beat, Harry cut off a piece of omelet with his fork and held it toward your mouth instead. “But look at this,” he coaxed smoothly. “Way better. C’mon, open up.”

You stared at him. “…are you seriously airplane-feeding me right now?”

“Yes.”

The confidence in his answer made you snort softly.

Not wanting to hurt his feelings after all this effort, you finally sighed dramatically and opened your mouth. “…fine.”

Harry looked unbearably satisfied as he fed you the bite.

And annoyingly enough? It was delicious.

Every single thing on the table was.

You watched in disbelief as he kept trying to pile more food onto your plate afterward, stopping you from reaching for the jam just to hand it to you himself a second later.

It was ridiculous. Completely over the top. And if you were being honest, the intensity of his care was starting to overwhelm you a little.

Still…

After everything that had happened, maybe it made sense.

Maybe this was temporary.

Maybe in a few days Harry would calm down.

…right?

After finishing your plate, you glanced toward the clock and sighed.

“Harry, I need to go home.”

You wiped your mouth carefully before standing.

“I don’t have anything to wear here, and I still need to get my hair done.”

Harry stood immediately after you, catching your waist before you could fully walk away.

“Well…” he started carefully.

You narrowed your eyes instantly.

“Wait—did you handle that too? What’s next? You bought me a dress? Scheduled my glam team?”

Harry smiled faintly.

But the look in his eyes stayed strangely serious.

“Come here. There’s something I wanna show you.”

Curiosity flickered through you as he guided you through the quieter side of the penthouse until he stopped in front of a closed door you’d never paid much attention to before.

Harry rested his hand on the handle but didn’t open it immediately.

Instead, he looked at you. “If you’d said yes to me last night…” He exhaled slowly, tried again. “You would’ve woken up this morning as my fiancée.”

You raised your eyebrows. Harry swallowed once before continuing. “And this would’ve been your present.”

Then finally, he opened the door.

You stopped completely.

Because the room—

God.

The room was unmistakably yours.

Soft cream tones mixed with dark wood accents. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Warm lighting. A marble vanity already covered with your skincare products arranged exactly the way you liked them. A closet section filled with clothes in your exact style.

Not random designer pieces.

You.

Elegant silhouettes. Cashmere sets. Soft silk dresses. Structured coats. Evening gowns in shades you always gravitated toward. Casual pieces for mornings at home. Sleek heels lined beneath custom shelves. Jewelry trays. Satin robes.

Even your favorite perfume sat beside the mirror.

And tucked farther inside—

Your favorite candle from Paris. The one you thought had sold out years ago.

Your chest tightened painfully.

Because this wasn’t some extravagant billionaire gesture.

It was personal.

It looked painfully similar to the dressing room in your old house together—the one where you used to start your mornings and end your nights while Harry sat nearby pretending not to watch you get ready.

This version was smaller yet warmer.

More intimate.

A soft place carved into the middle of his minimalist penthouse solely for you.

Like the space you still occupied in his heart.

Your fingers drifted slowly across the vanity before your gaze caught something else.

Your initials.

Pressed subtly into the leather jewelry case near the mirror.

You blinked once. Then again.

“…you built me a dressing room?”

“I figured if life’s finally decided to give us something back instead of taking from us…” He said. “You probably missed your dressing room too.”

Then leaned casually against the doorway, watching you instead of the room itself.

“Well? Do you like it?”

Your vision blurred before you even realized tears had filled your eyes.

One slipped down your cheek, making you laugh softly in disbelief as you turned toward him.

“Harry…” Your voice cracked slightly. “I love it.”

You looked around again, overwhelmed by how perfectly everything reflected you.

“There are things here I would’ve picked myself,” you whispered. “You remembered everything.”

Harry’s mouth twitched slightly.

“I may have asked Mikey to send me photos of your room.”

You turned toward him immediately.

“You what?”

“In my defense,” Harry said calmly, “your brother took the assignment very seriously.”

A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.

“That idiot.”

Harry actually looked mildly traumatized for a second.

“He sent me a lot of voice notes,” he admitted carefully.

Your smile widened instantly.

“Of course he did.”

“I know more about your preferred closet lighting than any man ever should.”

“Ugh, Mikey talks too much. And when it comes to illegally sneaking into my room, apparently he sees it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Mm.” Harry stepped closer slowly. “But he was right about one thing.”

Your breath caught slightly.

“What?”

His gaze moved around the room once before settling back on you, softer now.

“You deserve to have a place that feels like you in this house.”

The words hit somewhere deep in your chest.

Harry reached for your hand gently, lifting it to his lips without breaking eye contact as he pressed a slow kiss against your knuckles. Then his arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer until the front of your body rested against his. One hand moving up to smooth your still-damp hair back from your face, your eyes lifted to his instantly.

It wasn’t even the room.

It was the fact that he remembered.

Remembered the tiny rituals of your old life together. The mornings spent in front of the vanity while he sat nearby drinking coffee. The nights you’d end there together after galas and charity dinners, exhausted and still tangled up in each other.

Harry had remembered all of it.

Your throat tightened painfully.

“Thank you, Harry,” you murmured and kissed him softly. “Really.”

Harry smiled against your lips, his hands settling naturally on your waist.

“You know,” he murmured casually, “if you wanted to call yourself my fiancée after this, I probably wouldn’t stop you.”

“Shut up.”

“That’s not a no.”

You tried to hide your smile.

“Maybe yes.”

“Wait.” Harry tilted his head slightly. “Was that a yes yes?”

You turned away before he could fully see your smile, pretending to inspect the dresses instead.

“Mhmm.”

“Hold on. What kind of mhmm was that?”

You looked back at him innocently.

“Harry. No pressure, remember?”

“Right, right.” He nodded seriously, walking closer. “I’m just saying the option still exists.”

He held up one finger.

“Option A: yes.”

Then another.

“Option B…” His mouth curved slowly. “Also yes.”

You laughed and smacked his shoulder lightly.

“Oh my God, go get dressed already, Castillo. We’re gonna be late for work.”

Castillo Capital… 09:34 a.m.

Harry stepped out of the elevator looking too happy. Not subtle happy either. Actually happy.

The kind that made people immediately suspicious.

Ron looked up from the tablet in his hands the second Harry walked onto the executive floor and nearly dropped the damn thing.

“…good morning, boss,” he said, already grinning.

Harry barely glanced at him as he walked past.

“Morning.”

Ron’s grin widened instantly.

Oh, something definitely happened.

He followed Harry straight into the office.

“I prepared all the reports and presentation files for the meeting,” Ron said, falling into step behind him. “Also—good news from London.”

Harry loosened his scarf slightly as he moved toward his desk.

“The investors liked the revised presentation package. Looks like you won’t need to fly back anytime soon.”

Harry paused halfway through removing his coat.

“…really?”

“Mhm.” Ron watched him carefully. “Apparently John handled it.”

That got Harry’s attention immediately.

He looked over.

“John’s back?”

“He landed this morning.”

Harry leaned briefly against the desk, processing that quietly.

Things with John had changed recently.

Not perfectly.

But better.

Ever since you turned John down and he moved back to London to work as CFO at Castillo Capital’s European headquarters, something between the two men had slowly started repairing itself.

Carefully. Awkwardly.

A few weeks ago, they could barely get through a conversation without tension creeping in somewhere.

Now there were occasional phone calls. Business discussions that didn’t immediately turn hostile.

Tiny improvements.

But for Harry, even that felt like progress.

And handling the London situation without being asked— that meant something.

Harry exhaled quietly. “I’ll call him later.”

Ron nodded once before slowly approaching the desk with very obvious curiosity written all over his face.

Then—

“So…”

Harry looked up already annoyed. “What.”

Ron clasped his hands dramatically. “When exactly are we celebrating?”

Harry blinked once. “…celebrating what?”

Ron stared at him in disbelief. “The engagement?”

Silence.

Harry rubbed a hand across his jaw. “…there is no engagement, Ron.”

Ron froze. Completely.

“I’m sorry,” he said carefully. “I think perhaps I misheard that because it sounded incredibly odd.”

Harry opened his laptop. “She didn’t say yes.”

Ron’s mouth fell open. “YOU GOT REJECTED?”

“I did not get rejected.”

“Harry—”

“She said she needs time.”

Ron paused. Then grimaced slightly. “…that somehow feels emotionally worse.”

Harry leaned back in the chair, exhaling through his nose while rubbing tiredly at his forehead. “It’s not like that.”

Ron’s expression softened a little.

“Well…” he admitted carefully, “to be fair, her entire life exploded in less than a month.”

Harry’s eyes lifted back toward him immediately. “I know. I’m giving her time.” Then his mouth curved slightly. “But I’m changing her mind.”

Ron blinked. “…How?”

“She’s going to say yes eventually.”

Ron leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms. “Okay but—respectfully—she already did not say yes. So what exactly changes now?”

Harry smiled faintly. “First of all,” he said calmly, “I’m going to become an extremely good husband candidate.”

Ron stared at him. “…you already are one.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious. You’re rich, attractive, emotionally obsessed with her which women weirdly love, and somehow still polite. Frankly, if I looked like you I’d be unbearable.”

Harry huffed.

“Thanks, I guess. Well...That’s not-.”

“Every other woman in Manhattan would’ve said yes before you even opened the ring box.”

“She’s not every other woman, Ron.”

“Well, obviously,” he said. “She’s Queen.”

Harry leaned back in his chair again, quieter this time. “I just need to remove the things she’s scared about.”

Ron narrowed his eyes immediately. “And how exactly are you planning to do that?”

A smug look slowly appeared on Harry’s face. “Already started this morning.”

Ron looked concerned instantly. “…should I be worried?”

“I made breakfast,” Harry said simply.

Not even slightly humble about it. “A very good breakfast.”

Ron blinked once. “…okay…”

Harry ignored the reaction entirely.

“I got the full dietary list from her doctor,” he continued casually. “Adjusted the temperature in the penthouse. Replaced half the kitchen. Checked every ingredient expiration date myself.”

Ron stared.

Harry kept going. “Less caffeine. Less stress. More sleep. More water. More iron.” He shrugged once like this was all perfectly normal billionaire behavior. “From now on she gets the most thoughtful version of me possible.”

Silence.

Ron slowly lowered the tablet in his hands. “…boss?”

Harry glanced up.

“That strategy feels…” Ron searched carefully for the right wording. “…a little dangerous for Ms. Queen.”

Harry frowned slightly. “Dangerous?”

“Pressure,” Ron corrected carefully. “Like… emotional pressure.”

Harry immediately looked offended. “I’m not pressuring her.”

Ron gave him a long look. “Would you like me to pull up the dictionary definition of pressure?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Ron pointed dramatically.

“See? That right there? That’s the face of a man one scented candle away from becoming somebody’s husband again.”

Harry looked entirely unimpressed. “She likes me because I’m reliable.”

“No,” Ron corrected. “She likes you because you’re emotionally constipated in a very expensive way.”

Harry stared at him. Ron gestured vaguely with the tablet. “If you suddenly become aggressively attentive twenty-four hours a day, she might flee the country.”

Harry rolled his eyes again. “That’s ridiculous.”

Ron studied him for another second. Then— “…you know,” he said cautiously, “I could probably schedule an emergency therapy session for you.”

Harry looked up slowly.

Ron shrugged. “I’m just saying. This is exactly how it starts, by the way. First breakfast. Then matching pajamas. Then suddenly you own decorative hand towels.”

“Get out.”

“I’m leaving. I’m leaving.”

3 days earlier. Le Bernardin — Private Dining Room 9:21 p.m.

Warm amber lighting reflected softly against crystal glasses and polished silver while the muted sounds of the restaurant drifted faintly through the private room doors.

Harry sat beside you at the curved velvet booth, one arm stretched comfortably along the back of your seat behind you, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder absentmindedly whenever he spoke.

Across from you, Ron looked one bite away from a spiritual experience.

He pointed dramatically at his steak with his fork.

“Okay,” he declared after another bite, “this is genuinely the best steak I’ve ever had in my life.”

Dana nudged him immediately beneath the table.

“Ron,” she whispered sharply, “could you maybe try sounding slightly more sophisticated? Our bosses are sitting right there.”

You and Harry exchanged amused looks instantly.

Ron looked deeply offended.

“But, honey…” He gestured vaguely with the knife. “We’re off the clock.”

Dana gave Harry an apologetic smile.

Harry just shrugged calmly.

“He’s right,” he said. “Tonight we’re here as friends.”

Ron grinned triumphantly.

“Mmph—double date,” he mumbled proudly through another bite.

You giggled as Dana immediately kicked him under the table.

“Ow—Jesus Christ.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Ah yes,” he drawled dryly. “Double date.”

Then he looked over at you, his gaze immediately softening.

“You should eat a little more, baby.”

You sighed quietly, already knowing exactly where this was going.

“Harry,” you murmured, leaning back slightly against the booth. “I’m full.”

And honestly?

You were.

The fitted black dress you wore tonight wasn’t maternity wear—couldn’t be, not yet. Not when half of Manhattan was still watching Queen Financial like vultures circling a wounded animal. The soft fabric still hid the slight curve of your stomach for now, but after an entire dinner, you could already feel the tightness around your waist becoming uncomfortable.

Harry’s eyes flicked downward instantly anyway, concern already forming on his face.

“You barely ate.”

“I ate plenty.”

“Then at least drink your juice. Vitamin C.”

You narrowed your eyes immediately.

“Yes, because what I really need tonight is a vitamin C overdose.”

Ron leaned back with a grin.

“You two genuinely sound like somebody’s married aunt and uncle.”

Dana laughed softly into her wine.

“No,” Ron corrected immediately. “Actually worse. You sound like a couple that owns matching vitamins.”

“Yeah, well…” You glanced briefly toward Harry before swirling your juice lightly. “I don’t think Manhattan’s emotionally prepared for us to start acting married again.”

A softer pause.

“Especially considering the pregnancy.”

Harry looked like he was about to say something—

—but Dana cut in first.

“You have no idea how many interview requests I declined today,” she muttered while reaching for her wine. “Forbes Women. Vanity Fair. The Financial Times. One podcast literally called you ‘the face of modern feminine capitalism.’”

You buried your face briefly in your hand.

“God.”

Ron looked genuinely impressed.

“…okay wow.”

Dana pointed at him immediately.

“One magazine referred to her as ‘the unattainable queen of Wall Street.’”

Ron blinked.

“…okay wait, that one’s actually kinda cool.”

You sighed dramatically.

“Until they find out I’m pregnant with twins from my ex-husband.”

Harry’s thumb brushed quietly against your knee beneath the table.

“Well,” he murmured smoothly, “technically I could solve the ex-husband part.”

You looked over at him instantly.

“We still need to stabilize the company first,” you said more quietly, taking another sip of your juice. “And considering this whole ‘powerful independent woman’ image is apparently helping the company and the market right now… maybe the word marriage shouldn’t be floating around Manhattan just yet.”

Harry’s expression barely changed.

But something calmer settled into his eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, reaching for your hand beneath the table before lifting it slowly to his mouth, “you’re not staying away from me because of a few investors and gossip columns.”

His lips brushed gently against your knuckles.

“We’ll survive all of it together. Like we always do.”

The heat that rushed to your face was immediate.

Across the table, Ron sighed dramatically.

“See?” he muttered. “Marriage is beautiful. Love is real. I support this completely.”

Dana turned toward him slowly.

“Oh?” she asked pleasantly.

Ron immediately sensed danger.

Dana tilted her head slightly.

“I didn’t realize your thoughts on marriage had suddenly become so positive,” she said sweetly. “Especially considering how creatively you’ve been avoiding dinner with my parents for three months.”

Harry quietly leaned closer to your ear.

“…oops,” he murmured.

You bit your lower lip trying not to grin.

Dana set her wine glass down carefully without looking away from Ron.

“Good to know,” she continued sweetly. “Very enlightening, actually.”

“Dana, baby—”

“No, no,” she interrupted calmly while standing from the table. “Please continue your passionate pro-marriage speech.”

Ron looked horrified. “Wait—I didn’t mean—”

“Excuse me, Mr. Castillo. Ms. Queen.”

Dana smiled politely before walking toward the restroom.

Ron watched her leave in genuine panic. “…how did this become about me?”

You gave him a look over the rim of your glass. “Women don’t usually enjoy being kept waiting, Ron.”

Beside you, Harry nodded in agreement without hesitation.

Ron looked betrayed. “Oh God.”

You laughed softly before standing. “I should probably go save you.”

“Please do,” Ron whispered desperately. “Thank you.”

As you followed Dana toward the hallway, Harry watched you disappear around the corner before slowly leaning back in his chair.

Ron rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m fucked... Sorry, boss.”

Harry smirked faintly into his whiskey. “No,” he said calmly. “You’re right. You’re fucked.”

Ron groaned quietly while Harry’s gaze drifted toward the hallway again, the ghost of your words still lingering in his head.

Women don’t usually enjoy being kept waiting.

Harry was almost completely certain you hadn’t meant him at all.

Back to now…

You and Dana looked at each other simultaneously across the office.

Realization hit both of you at the exact same time. “…oh my God,” Dana muttered first.

Your eyes widened slightly.

“That’s why he proposed last night.”

“And Ron immediately started defending marriage which immediately backfired on him.”

You both stared at each other for one long second—

—before bursting into laughter.

Dana shook her head slowly, still laughing under her breath.

“Men.”

You sighed deeply, leaning back in your chair.

“It’s amazing they’ve survived this long.”

Chez Akiko… 1:14 p.m.

“I’m telling you, Emily, Harry’s being absurdly attentive right now,” you complained, leaning back dramatically in your chair. “Like… concerningly attentive. How am I supposed to survive nine months of this?”

Your voice came out slightly louder than intended.

Emily only smiled knowingly as she slid the warm cup of sakura tea toward you before sitting down across from you.

“Well,” she said carefully, “to be fair… Harry is trying very hard right now.” You stared at her. “I’m serious,” you complained, taking the tea. “He monitors everything now. What I eat, what I drink, how long I sleep.” You narrowed your eyes. “This morning he adjusted the temperature in his apartment because apparently my feet were cold.”

Emily placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “That’s actually adorable.”

“He turned my office into Poison Ivy’s apartment.”

Emily immediately burst out laughing. “Okay, first of all,” she said between laughs, “she’s my favorite DC character, so that sounds cute.”

You groaned quietly, resting your forehead briefly against your hand.

“And my mother keeps calling every two hours. I swear she’s tracking my breathing remotely somehow.” You lifted your head again. “This was her fifth call today.”

Emily laughed softly before reaching across the table to squeeze your hand.

“Hon… all of them went through a huge loss with you two. I genuinely don’t think they expected to ever see this again.”

Your expression softened slightly.

Emily smiled gently.

“They’re excited. Probably too excited. But they’ll calm down eventually.” A beat. “Harry included.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. “You really think so?”

“No,” Emily admitted honestly. “But I think he’ll become easier to manage once you marry him.”

You blinked once. “…excuse me?”

Emily gave you an incredulous look. “Oh please. Why did you even reject him?”

“I did not reject him.”

“You emotionally delayed him. Same thing.”

You stared at her in betrayal. “Em.”

“What?” She shrugged unapologetically. “You’ve literally been waiting for that man to propose to you again.”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. “…that is not the point.”

Emily sipped her drink calmly. “Then explain the point.”

You exhaled slowly, fingers tracing around the edge of your cup.

“I’m not the same person I was back then.” Your voice quieted slightly. “Everything’s different now. The company, the board, the scandal…”

You shook your head.

“I became executive chair less than a week ago. I can’t just immediately announce I’m engaged to Harry Castillo on top of all that.”

Emily sighed dramatically. “You people genuinely never rest, huh?”

You laughed softly despite yourself.

“No seriously.” She leaned back in the booth. “When exactly are you two planning to experience love like normal people?”

You snorted.

“We are normal people.”

Emily stared at you flatly. “You own private jets.”

“Okay fair.”

Emily pointed at you. “Everything with you two sounds emotionally expensive.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “Sometimes being completely ordinary sounds amazing.”

“You could never survive being ordinary.”

“Rude.”

“You cried once because a hotel suite in Milan had bad lighting.”

“That happened one time.”

“Twice.”

You narrowed your eyes.

Emily grinned proudly.

Before you could answer, the entrance door opened, the small bell above it ringing softly through the restaurant.

Emily glanced up first.

“Oh—wait, isn’t that…”

You turned slightly in your seat.

And immediately froze.

John.

Your eyes widened in surprise.

He spotted you almost instantly too, that familiar crooked smile appearing on his face as he started walking toward the table.

You stood automatically.

“Hey,” he said warmly. “How are you?”

“Good,” you laughed softly, pulling him into a quick hug. “You’re back already?”

“Landed this morning.” He stepped back, looking at you properly now. “Dana told me you were here.” His brows lifted slightly. “Thought I should come see Manhattan’s newest public executioner.”

You groaned. “Oh God.”

“No seriously,” John continued, pulling out the chair beside you. “That speech was everywhere in London. People were talking about it at breakfast.”

You smiled despite yourself. “Well… someone needed to be humbled publicly.”

John laughed under his breath. “That was one hell of a way to do it.”

You gestured toward the seat beside you. “Sit. I was about to order lunch anyway.”

John glanced toward Emily politely. “Hey.”

Emily smiled instantly. “Hi.” Then, already grabbing the menu: “So,” she asked brightly, “what are we feeding the international businessman today?”

At the same time—

The executive meeting had finally ended. Which meant half of Castillo Capital immediately flooded toward elevators, coffee carts, lunch reservations, and emotional survival mechanisms.

Harry walked beside Ron down the hallway, loosening his tie slightly while scanning through emails on his phone. “So,” he said casually, “if John landed this morning, why didn’t he come upstairs?”

Ron shrugged. “Maybe he’s sleeping.”

Harry gave him a look. “At one in the afternoon?”

“Jet lag affects people differently.”

Harry hummed absently. Still suspicious.

Before he could say anything else, Ron’s phone buzzed loudly in his hand. His entire expression softened immediately.

Harry looked over slowly. “…Dana?”

Ron smiled shamelessly while answering. “Hi, baby.”

Harry pulled out his own phone and called you while they continued toward the office.

The line rang once. No answer. His brows furrowed immediately. He tried again. Still nothing. Harry slowed his steps slightly. “…Ron.”

“Mm?”

“Ask Dana where she is.”

Ron blinked. “Who?”

Harry stared at him.

“Right. Right.” Ron quickly covered the speaker with his hand. “Baby, where’s Ms. Queen right now?” A pause. Then Ron’s expression shifted. “…oh.”

Harry narrowed his eyes instantly. “What.”

Ron slowly pulled the phone away from his ear. “She’s at lunch.”

“Where?”

Ron visibly hesitated. “…Chez Akiko.”

Silence.

Harry stopped walking entirely. Then slowly turned toward him. “Emily’s restaurant?” His brows pulled together instantly. “She can’t eat half the menu there.”

“In fairness, they also serve cooked foo—”

“Ron.” Harry was already turning around. “My coat.”

Ron sighed dramatically but grabbed it from the office chair anyway before hurrying after him.

“Protective daddy mode activated,” he muttered under his breath.

Ten minutes later—they were in the back of the limousine heading downtown.

Ron looked over cautiously. “You know…” he started carefully, “this does feel a little stalker-adjacent.”

Harry didn’t even look up from his phone, already sending you multiple texts in a row. “They’re my babies too, Ron.”

Ron opened his mouth. Closed it again. “…fair.”

The car slowed near the restaurant windows.

Then Ron suddenly leaned forward. “Oh my God.”

Harry looked up immediately. And froze.

Inside the restaurant—you were laughing. John sat beside you. Too close beside you.

Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Ron stared through the window in disbelief. “Okay,” he said slowly, “Mr. Pitts returning from London and immediately ending up at lunch with your future fiancée does feel narratively suspicious.”

Harry didn’t answer. He was too busy staring at the way John leaned behind your chair casually, resting an arm along the back of the booth while talking to you.

Ron glanced sideways at Harry’s expression and immediately swallowed. “…oh boy.”

The limousine stopped. Harry stepped out first. Fast. Behind him, Ron’s phone buzzed again.

Dana.

Ron answered quickly while jogging to keep up. “Yes, baby?” A pause. “…sweetheart, I think you’re calling about this a little too late.” Another pause. Ron glanced toward Harry. “…yeah no, he saw John. I’m hanging up.” He ended the call immediately before hurrying after him. “Apparently,” Ron continued cautiously, “John stopped by the office first and asked Dana where Ms. Queen was—”

“Yes, Ron,” Harry said coolly without slowing down. “I gathered that from the part where he’s currently halfway inside her booth.”

Ron wisely stopped talking. Then looked through the restaurant windows again. “…did he change his hair?” Harry slowly turned his head. Ron immediately raised both hands. “I’m just saying—it looks annoyingly good.”

Harry stared at him blankly.

“But not as good as yours,” Ron added quickly. “Obviously.”

Ron pointed vaguely at him while still walking. “Honestly, you kinda look like Pedro Pascal if he slept eight hours a night, owned Manhattan, and had a private equity portfolio.”

Harry kept walking. “Ron.”

“No listen,” Ron insisted immediately. “Pedro Pascal never even accepted the Sexiest Man Alive title when they wanted him to do it. Which is honestly very you. Humble. Mysterious. Emotionally repressed.”

Harry looked deeply exhausted now.

“And if you ever saw his Tumblr fanbase,” Ron added seriously, “you’d understand this is an elite compliment.”

Harry pointed at him without even looking. “Stop talking.”

“Understood.” Ron dramatically zipped his lips.

The bell above the restaurant door chimed the second Harry pushed it open.

Emily looked up first. “Oh, shit,” she said slowly. “Well. This lunch just became a live-action soap opera.”

You turned at the familiar voice before she even finished.

“Baby.”

Your head snapped toward the entrance instantly. “Harry?”

Behind him, Ron gave you a tiny apologetic smile.

John looked up too before standing from his seat. “Harry,” he greeted evenly.

“John.”

The two men shook hands. And didn’t let go. At all.

You sighed immediately.

Harry smiled politely without taking his eyes off him. “Good to see you back,” he said smoothly. “Though I have to admit, I expected to see you at today’s executive meeting first. Especially considering I was waiting for the London reports.”

His grip tightened slightly.

John smiled pleasantly right back, matching the pressure instantly. “Funny,” he replied casually. “I figured the office would still be there later. Checking on her felt more important.”

“Oh?” Harry’s smile never faltered. “Immediately after landing? How thoughtful of you.”

Their smiles somehow got tighter.

Ron immediately stepped between them with corporate-level panic management instincts.

“Gentlemen,” he announced brightly while physically separating their hands, “let’s remember Castillo Capital remains deeply committed to workplace brotherhood.”

Neither of them looked at him.

Ron continued anyway. “And Mr. Pitts, we are all extremely grateful for your work handling the London investors.”

Harry finally looked away from John then. “Yes,” he said calmly.

Then stepped directly toward you.

His arm slid around your waist naturally before he pressed a kiss against your temple. “I’m especially grateful,” he added smoothly, “because it means I get more time with my girl.”

John smiled politely.

But there was tension behind it now.

You narrowed your eyes immediately. “Harry, what are you—”

“Baby,” Harry interrupted gently, glancing down at the table. “Why are you eating here?”

Emily blinked. “Uh…”

Harry pointed lightly toward the sushi menu. “The doctor literally gave us a list of things you can’t eat.”

You crossed your arms instantly. “She also said I need omega-3.”

Harry opened his mouth.

Emily beat him to it. “She’s eating grilled salmon and rice,” Emily informed him dryly. “I’m not poisoning your offspring, relax.”

Ron muttered under his breath: “Offspring is such an aggressive word.”

"Well,” she said dryly, “if you storm into my restaurant and start criticizing my menu, I’d suggest being grateful aggressive is the only word involved.”

You giggled. “Fair.”

John looked between all of you with visible confusion.

Harry noticed immediately. “Oh,” he said casually. “Right. You didn’t know.”

You closed your eyes briefly. “Harry—”

“She’s pregnant,” Harry finished proudly anyway. “We’re having twins.”

John blinked once in genuine shock.

You elbowed Harry immediately. “We are trying to keep that private.”

“Right.” Harry nodded once. “Temporarily private.”

John’s expression softened almost instantly as he looked back at you. “…wow.” A small smile appeared on his face. “That’s…” He exhaled quietly. “Honestly, I’m really happy for you both.”

Something about the sincerity in his voice made you soften too.

“You deserve another chance after everything.”

You smiled faintly. “Thanks, John.”

He grabbed his coat slowly. “I should probably head out anyway.”

Your brows lifted slightly. “You don’t have to leave.”

John glanced briefly toward Harry. “No,” he said lightly. “I think I do.”

He leaned down slightly beside you. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

You nodded softly.

Then John looked toward Harry again. “I’ll see you at the office.”

Harry gave a short nod. “See you there.”

The second John walked out—Ron winced dramatically. “Ouch.”

Emily crossed her arms, looking between all of you with deep disappointment. “Oh, this is absolutely becoming a circus.” Then her eyes landed on Harry. “So,” she said dryly, “would Mr. Castillo perhaps like to retract his earlier comments about my restaurant?”

Harry blinked once before the faintest hint of amusement touched his face. “My apologies, Emily.”

Harry sat beside you briefly before looking back at her. “Maybe I can redeem myself by having lunch here after all.”

Emily narrowed her eyes. “…go on.”

Harry picked up the menu calmly. “I’ll take the grilled miso black cod. Steamed rice. And whatever soup she’s allowed to eat.” You rolled your eyes instantly. “And green tea,” he added smoothly without looking up.

Emily’s expression softened despite herself. “Okay,” she admitted. “That’s actually a respectable order.”

Ron immediately slid into the booth across from you. “Perfect,” he announced. “Because all this television-level emotional warfare made me hungry.”

Harry finally looked up from the menu. “We’ll also be leaving an extremely generous tip.”

“Okay,” she grinned. “Your orders will be out shortly. And the customer is always right.”

You turned slowly toward Harry. “…are you following me now?”

“No,” Harry said simply. “I’m caring about you aggressively.” You stared at him. He gently pushed your plate slightly closer toward you. “Eat before it gets cold,” Harry murmured, holding a bite toward your mouth. “Cold food lowers body temperature.”

With your mouth still full, you rolled your eyes. “My body temperature is currently very high, actually.”

Behind you, Emily slowly leaned toward Ron. “…okay,” she whispered. “She was not exaggerating.”

Ron nodded gravely. “You have no idea.”

Later That Night… Queen Residence. 9:41 p.m. The kitchen was quiet except for the soft clink of your spoon against the ceramic mug in your hands. You stared down at the swirl of melted chocolate absentmindedly, barely noticing the steam curling upward anymore. Somewhere behind you— “Sweetheart?” You blinked slowly. “Hm?” You finally looked up. “What?” Lara frowned slightly as she stepped closer into the kitchen. “I asked you three times if you were alright.” Her brows softened. “Bad day at work?” You shook your head immediately. “No, everything’s fine, I just…” You exhaled quietly, leaning your hip against the marble counter. “I think I hurt Harry’s feelings.” “What happened?” You looked back down into your mug. “I told him a few days ago I was moving into his place. But tonight before we left, I told him maybe I needed to think about it again.” Scarlet’s expression shifted slightly. “He didn’t say anything,” you continued quickly. “Not really. But I think it hurt him.” “Why did you change your mind?” You sighed heavily. “He’s just…” You rubbed tiredly at your forehead. “He’s become so overprotective lately. About the pregnancy, about me, about everything.” You let out a frustrated breath. “I know he means well but sometimes I feel like I can’t breathe.” “That’s probably normal.” “Yeah. I just feel overwhelmed all the time lately.” Lara stepped closer, gently lifting your chin between her fingers. “Harry loves you,” she said softly. “That’s all this is.” “I know.” “And trust me,” she added warmly, “that man is not capable of staying upset with you for longer than five minutes.” A weak smile pulled at your mouth. But guilt still sat heavily in your chest. You looked back down again. “He already thinks I rejected him,” you admitted quietly. "Oh." That hurt to say out loud. You covered your face briefly with both hands. “God, I’m awful,” you groaned. “I finally get the love of my life back and somehow I’m still hurting him.” Lara looked ready to speak again—but Scarlet stopped her gently with one look; apparently, she heard your conversation. “Lara,” she said softly, “give us a minute?” Lara hesitated only briefly before nodding. As she passed, she squeezed your cheek affectionately. “Don’t upset yourself over this honey… a love like yours isn’t going to fall apart over something like this.” Then she disappeared quietly from the kitchen. Scarlet waited until the room settled again before speaking. “Come sit with me.” You blinked slightly at her tone. Soft. Almost careful. That alone surprised you enough to obey immediately. You pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down slowly while Scarlet took the seat beside you. Usually when your mother said we need to talk, it meant discussions about business decisions, press appearances, wardrobe disasters, assistants quitting unexpectedly, or family reputation. Not this. Never this. Scarlet looked at you quietly for a long moment before finally speaking. “You know…” she murmured slowly, “I think I may have raised you a little too harshly.” Your brows lifted slightly. “…a little?” A small laugh escaped her despite herself. “I taught you to survive,” she admitted. “To think logically. To never let emotions cloud your judgment.” Her eyes softened as they held yours. “And you became extraordinary because of it.” Your throat tightened slightly. “I’m proud of you, baby,” she whispered. “More proud than you’ll ever understand.” “Mom…” “Wait.” She shook her head gently. “Let me finish.” You nodded slowly. Scarlet rarely talked about feelings like this. Rarely talked about old pain at all. To her, heartbreak had always been something you survived privately and learned from quietly. Weakness was corrected. Mistakes were buried.

Emotions were controlled. And she had taught you the same thing. Until Harry. Scarlet looked down briefly before continuing. “But do you know something I learned too late?” You stayed quiet. Her eyes lifted back to yours. “Logic keeps you alive.” A faint smile touched her lips. “But love…” Her voice softened. “Love is what makes life worth living.” Your chest tightened instantly. “There are people who spend their entire lives never feeling what you feel for that man,” she continued quietly. “Do you understand how lucky that makes you?” Tears burned suddenly behind your eyes. Scarlet smiled gently this time. “Although,” she added, “Harry is probably the luckier one.” A watery laugh escaped you immediately. “He is.” She reached over, brushing your hair back softly. You felt your vision blur completely now. Scarlet held out her hand toward you slowly. “Give me your hand.” You did without hesitation.

She took it carefully and lifted it toward her lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. Something about that nearly broke you entirely. “Your mother, Scarlet Queen exaggerates sometimes and she does have a tendency to dramatize things,” she murmured lightly. “But this time,” she continued softly, placing your hand gently over your own heart, “don’t listen to your logic.” Your breath caught. “Listen to this instead.” Her hand stayed over yours for a second longer. “The company will survive scandals. The board will survive gossip. The world will survive headlines.” Her eyes filled slightly now too. “But life is very short, baby. You found your way back to each other after everything.” Her thumb brushed gently over your hand. “Don’t lose it again.” You stared at her completely stunned. Because this— this version of your mother— was something you had almost never seen before. Not with you. Not about Harry. Not about love. You moved suddenly, wrapping your arms tightly around her. “Do you really think so?” you whispered shakily against her shoulder. Scarlet held you immediately, one hand smoothing slowly through your hair exactly the way she used to when you were little. “No,” she whispered softly. You pulled back slightly. A tiny smile touched her lips. “I don’t think.” She tapped lightly over your heart again. “Love does.” A quiet breath left her. “That’s love speaking. Maybe it’s time you stopped listening to your logic… and started listening to this instead.”

“Wow.” You and Scarlet turned simultaneously toward the doorway. Mikey stood there holding a bottle of water, staring at the two of you in disbelief. “Scarlet Queen giving emotional mother speeches?” he said slowly. “Somebody alert the media immediately.” Scarlet closed her eyes briefly. “Michael.” “No seriously,” he continued while walking farther into the kitchen, “I think Manhattan just experienced a seismic event.” You laughed softly despite the tears still clinging to your lashes. Mikey placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “Maybe I should start listening to my heart too. Ah yes…” he sighed dreamily toward the ceiling. “My heart is saying Sienna… Sienna…” Scarlet pointed at him coldly. “No. Your heart says ridiculous things.” “And it sounds like a seventeen-year-old frat boy,” you added. “You two can mock me all you want,” he declared confidently, “but Sienna invited me to her gallery opening.” You blinked. “…she did?” Mikey looked unbearably smug now. “Mhm.” He pointed between both of you proudly. “You’ll see. Soon enough, I’m gonna win her heart.” A dangerous silence followed that statement. Scarlet stared at him for a long second before slowly looking back at you. Then back at him. “…I cannot believe you’re both my children."

Saturday Evening Castillo Estate — Rhineback. 7:17 p.m. The entire estate felt warmer tonight. Softer somehow. Golden light spilled across the sitting room while the fireplace crackled quietly nearby, the scent of fresh espresso and vanilla lingering faintly in the air after dinner. Eloise sat between you and Harry on the large cream-colored sofa, still holding the ultrasound photos carefully in her hands like they were something sacred. The second you had shown them to her after dinner, she had burst into tears immediately. Now she kept looking down at the tiny blurry images every few seconds like she still couldn’t quite believe they were real. “Dios mío…” she whispered emotionally, pressing a hand over her chest. “Dos bebés…” Harry smiled softly beside her while one of his arms rested around your shoulders. “Twins,” he corrected gently. Eloise looked up at both of you, eyes shining. “Double blessing,” she murmured in Spanish-accented English. “Two little angels…” Her voice trembled slightly. “Ay, gracias a Dios. I have never been this happy in all my life. Seeing you together like this…” Her eyes filled again. “Now I can die peacefully.” “Eloise,” you groaned immediately. Harry sighed. “Mama…” Vivienne murmured. “What?” she defended herself innocently. “I’m old.” You laughed softly and leaned closer to squeeze her arm. “You’re literally healthier than half of Manhattan,” you told her. “Exactly,” Harry added dryly. “You yelled at a gardener for touching your roses yesterday. You’re clearly surviving another twenty years minimum.” “He deserved it.” You and Harry laughed together while she continued clutching the ultrasound photos possessively against her chest. “Besides,” she added smugly now, patting your hand, “I need to meet my great-grandbabies properly before I go anywhere.” Harry’s entire expression softened at that word. Great-grandbabies.

You felt his fingers tighten slightly around yours. — Later that evening, after dinner had settled and the house grew quieter, you stepped out onto the back veranda with your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear. “…No, Dana, if one more magazine calls me ‘the feminine face of corporate resilience,’ I’m actually going to commit crimes.” Dana laughed loudly through the speaker. “You say that now, but your approval ratings are terrifyingly high.” You rolled your eyes fondly, pacing slowly beneath the soft terrace lights. The evening air had turned cooler outside, enough to send a small shiver through you. “…okay, email me the revised board schedule tomorrow,” you murmured. “And tell Ron to stop sending me engagement ring memes.” You sighed before ending the call. The second you lowered your phone, a soft warmth settled over your shoulders. You turned slightly. Vivienne stood behind you holding the edges of a cashmere shawl gently around you.

“There, ” she murmured warmly. “Better.” “Thank you.” Vivienne smiled faintly. “Do you have a minute?” “Of course.” She nodded toward the garden seating area, and the two of you slowly sat down together beneath the soft glow of the terrace lights. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then Vivienne smiled quietly to herself. “You made Eloise very happy tonight,” she said softly. “She fell asleep smiling.” A small laugh escaped her. “She was mumbling about twins in Spanish ten minutes ago.” You smiled down at your hands. “She deserved to know.” “She did.” Vivienne’s eyes softened. “And honestly?” She exhaled quietly. “I think all of us needed something joyful again.” A silence settled between you. Gentle. Comfortable. Then Vivienne looked over at you fully. “You bring light into this family,” she said softly. “Especially for Harry.” Your chest tightened instantly. You stayed quiet. Vivienne’s gaze drifted somewhere distant now.

“When you left…” she admitted quietly, “he thought he lost that light forever.” You blinked slowly. “He tried not to show it to me.” A sad smile touched her lips. “But mothers know.” Her eyes glistened slightly now. “I used to hear him come home and sit in silence for hours. Sometimes I’d call him and immediately know he’d been crying before he answered.” Pain twisted sharply in your chest. Vivienne reached over then, taking your hand gently into hers. “I was terrified,” she admitted honestly. “Terrified that his heart would never fully heal.” Your eyes burned immediately. “But now?” Her expression softened beautifully. “Whenever he visits me… or even when I hear his voice on the phone…” She smiled through the emotion gathering in her eyes. “I always know when he’s just been with you.” A weak smile pulled at your lips. Vivienne laughed softly. “He gets this ridiculous smile on his face.” She shook her head affectionately. “Even his voice changes.” Your throat tightened painfully. “And when you become a mother,” Vivienne continued gently, squeezing your hand, “you’ll understand exactly what I mean. How deeply you learn someone. How a single expression or change in tone can tell you everything.” You looked down briefly, trying to steady yourself. Vivienne waited patiently before speaking again. “I suppose what I’m trying to say is…” She smiled softly now. “There are things in this world money can never buy.” Her thumb brushed gently over your hand. “Love. Peace. Belonging.” Her eyes held yours carefully. “Those feelings are what make life worth living.” Your vision blurred slightly. “So don’t lose them,” she whispered. “And don’t lose each other.” A tiny breath left her afterward before she added carefully: “And I hope this doesn’t sound selfish…” You looked at her immediately. “…but I do hope you marry my son again someday. A watery laugh escaped as you wiped quickly beneath your eyes. “Vivienne,” you whispered shakily, “are you trying to make me cry? Because my pregnancy hormones are already dangerously unstable right now.” Vivienne laughed softly through her own tears before immediately pulling you into her arms. “Come here, honey.” You held onto her tightly. And for the first time in a very long time, it didn’t feel like you were being held by Harry’s mother. It felt like family. Vivienne kissed the side of your head gently. “Thank you,” she whispered emotionally. “For everything.” Your chest tightened painfully again. “You gave me my son back.” A tear slipped down your cheek. Vivienne only held you tighter. “And I hope the two of you spend the rest of your lives making each other happy.

Later That Night… The bedroom was quiet except for the faint sound of rain tapping softly against the windows. Warm lamplight spilled across the room in golden shadows while Harry sat against the headboard, sleeves rolled up slightly, distracted by something on his laptop. You stood alone in the bathroom staring at yourself in the mirror one last time. Your heart wouldn’t stop pounding. The silk babydoll Harry had bought for you in London draped softly against your skin, the deep shade of violet making your flushed cheeks even warmer somehow. Delicate lace traced over your chest and thighs, the matching set beneath it expensive enough to make you nervous all over again. For a second, you almost laughed at yourself. You had negotiated billion-dollar deals without blinking. But this? This terrified you. Not because of the lingerie. Because of what you were about to say. Out in the bedroom, you heard Harry shift slightly before the sound of his laptop finally closing. “Baby? Everything okay in there?” A tiny beat passed. “You’re not getting sick again, are you?” Your chest tightened painfully at the concern in his voice. God. You loved him so much. Slowly, you opened the bathroom door. And Harry froze. Completely. His eyes lifted from the bed— then stayed there. On you. The expression on his face changed instantly, somewhere between awe and complete devastation. “…fuck,” he breathed quietly. You walked toward him slowly, pulse thundering in your ears beneath the soft fabric brushing your thighs. Harry watched every step like he physically couldn’t look away. “Do you,” he asked hoarsely, eyes dragging slowly over your body, “have any idea how dangerous you are?” A nervous smile tugged softly at your lips. Then you climbed carefully onto the bed and settled into his lap, your arms sliding around his neck while his hands instinctively found your waist. Warm. Safe. Home.

“Harry…” you whispered softly against his lips. He swallowed hard immediately. Your fingers brushed lightly against his cheek before you slowly lifted your left hand between you. The ring still sat there. His ring. Your eyes met his again. “I was thinking…” you murmured quietly. “I don’t think I ever want to take this off again.” Harry’s breath caught instantly. You smiled faintly through the emotion rising in your chest. “Pretending we were married again for Eloise, only made me realize something.” Your thumb brushed over the diamond carefully. “This was always mine anyway.” Your voice softened even more. “Whether I wore it or not.” Harry stared at you silently now, his arms tightening around your waist almost unconsciously. “And my heart…” you whispered shakily, “was always yours too.” “Baby,” Harry breathed, visibly overwhelmed now as his forehead pressed briefly against yours.

You closed your eyes for one second before continuing softly: “I think I spent so much time being afraid of losing everything again…” Your fingers curled slightly against his shoulder. “That I forgot losing you would hurt so much more.” Harry’s entire expression broke open at that. “So…” you whispered, finally meeting his eyes again, “if that offer still stands…” Harry sat up straighter so fast it almost made you laugh through your nerves. “…yeah?” he asked immediately, voice rough with hope. A watery smile touched your lips. “I’m ready to be your wife again.” Silence. For one breathtaking second, Harry just stared at you. Like he couldn’t believe this was real. Then his hands suddenly cupped your face and he kissed you hard. Desperately. Relieved. Happy. The force of it stole the breath from your lungs instantly as he pulled you closer against him, kissing you again and again like he physically couldn’t stop. “Baby,” he whispered breathlessly between kisses. “Jesus Christ—” Another kiss. Then another. His forehead rested against yours for half a second before he looked at you again, smiling so widely it almost looked boyish. “Do you have any idea what you just did to me?” You laughed softly through the emotion burning behind your eyes. Harry kissed you again before you could answer. Slow this time. Deep. Full of everything the two of you had survived to get back here. “I love you,” he whispered against your mouth. “So fucking much.” Your heart melted instantly. “I love you too, Harry.” He kissed the corner of your mouth again, smiling against your skin while his hands slid along your waist beneath the silk. “Now,” you murmured softly, brushing your nose against his, “considering we’re officially engaged again…” Harry’s eyes warmed immediately. “I think you should kiss me one more time.” “Only one?” Then he kissed you again— slowly pushing you back against the pillows while the rain continued falling softly outside the windows.

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