"Saddle Up, Cowboy. We Got This."

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a guard dog with a death wish | jack abbot

pairing: jack abbot x f!widow!reader warnings: EXTREME ANGST. like seriously. reader is very distraught. death of a partner, mention of suicidal ideation, language, age gap (unspecified, but reader is late 20s/early 30s and jack is mid/late 40s), there will be an eventual happy ending <3 word count: 2.6k summary: at a grief support group that you never wanted to attend in the first place, jack abbot finds you, and pulls you up by your-- admittedly-- quite sad and pathetic boot straps. notes: if you are under 18 do not interact with any of my work or this fic. yay i've finally posted a new fic!!! this is the first part of a new series! yay! not a ton of jack x reader in this part, but it lays the ground work for what is to come <3 i sincerely hope you all enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 parts that are to follow may be non-linear on reader's healing journey, but i haven't gotten that far yet so we'll just have to see hehe

the thing that no one thought to warn you about grief is that, a year may pass since the worst moment of your entire life, and you’ll still pat yourself on the back when you get yourself to swallow a bowl of fruity pebbles. the thing they didn’t think to tell you is that two hours of sleep will seem like a miracle– bonus points if the two hours are continuous. the thing that they should put in the pamphlet is that your world is going to end, but everyone else is going to, somehow, miraculously, be so much more put together than you.

you ascertained that you were not doing this whole grief thing right six months ago. when the looks that you received stopped being empathetic, and began to be outright concern. when the texts were more frantic. when it was easier to disconnect from all of it– friends, family, loved ones. how could you explain this feeling to them?

how could you explain that your heart was living somewhere else, outside of your body, so far out of your grasp? how could you explain that every night a future that was never yours, could never be yours, played on a loop in your brain until you were reduced to hot, angry tears? how could you explain any of this to someone and have them understand it, understand you?

it’s not like you thought you were the only person in the world who was grieving tucker. it felt like the whole world was grieving him– that was the type of person he was. but he was your person, first and foremost. he was the person who you sat on the couch with and watched survivor every wednesday night. he was the person who always put the groceries away. he was the person that you lived your mundane little life with– it wasn’t perfect. you didn’t need it to be perfect. that fact that you shared it with him was all that you needed.

it was tucker’s mom who sent you the information for the grief support group. there was a pang of emotion when you saw the text– you hadn’t even seen her since the funeral. you knew, deep down, that she understood. but it didn’t make your feelings of frustration with yourself dissipate.

she could get herself together, and she gave birth to tucker. you were falling apart while she held herself together. it was embarrassing.

the invitation, most likely created on canva, was sent to you in a well-meaning text alongside the words, he loved you more than anyone, or anything. he wouldn’t want you to live like this. if you won’t talk to anyone you know, talk to someone you don’t.

the words, as tough-loved as they were designed to be, didn’t bring you any comfort or resolve for making yourself better. that may be what tucker would’ve wanted– but he died, and you were left behind without the one person who made you feel like you were coming up for air.

tucker sunday was a good man. he was a good man who had loved you entirely and completely and with no reservations, from the moment the two of you met in the first grade. you were new to school, having been relocated to the pittsburgh suburbs from boston. everything felt different and scary– you sat alone on the playground with your hands in your lap, looking from left to right, right to left, hoping that someone might come up to you.

and then there was tucker. gap-toothed and freckled and with a pair of glasses perched on his tiny nose. he plopped beside you with a copy of the lord of the rings in his hand– advanced for a first grader, but that was just how tucker was.

he sat down beside you that sunny day on the playground and he never left.

that was the thing that you think people don’t understand. tucker had been your world, every day– and not in a codependent way. you each had your own, full lives. your own friends and your own families that knew just the right way to blend and merge. you were a librarian at a high school. he was a teacher at an elementary school. you couldn’t carry a tune or play an instrument to save your life. he was the best at the guitar. you loved to bake. he loved to cook.

you balanced one another. and now, the scales have tipped so fast, in such a fervent freefall… how do you climb such a steep mountain back to where you were? when you don’t have someone keeping you even?

you look at the looming building from your place where the bus dropped you off. your hands tremble as you make sure that you have the correct address– you do, of course, because despite your grief, you are still meticulously type a, somewhere inside of yourself.

“my little planner.”

his voice rattles in your head and you have to physically shake your shoulders before you walk through the doors and down the hall, turning left into a room with probably fifteen chairs in a circle. only six are occupied.

a woman turns her head to you and smiles brightly, too brightly for a room filled with such, presumably, weary souls. “hi there,” she gestures towards the empty chairs. “come on in. have a seat.”

your fingers grip your bag tighter, eyes popping from each individual to the next. there’s two people huddled together– sisters, you think. an older gentleman with kind eyes and a long beard who is wearing a veteran hat. a woman in her mid-fifties, if you had to guess, with legs crossed and peering at her phone down the bridge of her nose.

none of them glance up at you, but one.

he’s sitting in the chair facing directly to the door, alert. his eyes don’t leave you for even one singular second as you pad into the room, half wounded animal, half woman. his arms are crossed over his chest and his legs are slightly spread and there’s a camo backpack leaned against his leg. you have to question if you have something on your face or if he just has a staring problem. you decide it must be the latter.

you don’t glare at him in return, but you don’t not glare at him, either. you take tentative step after tentative step until you take a seat one away from him, fixing your hands into your lap and casting your eyes down to them. you look left to right, right to left. you fiddle shakily with the ring that weighs heavy on your left hand. you twirl it and twirl it and twirl it until your skin feels irritated.

introductions begin to happen, but you don’t quite hear them. you’re still staring down at that ring and everything surges at you suddenly, a tidal wave of anguish that takes you by the ankle and drags you under. you don’t realize you’re crying until it’s your turn to introduce yourself and you’re faced with the tell-tale signs of an emotion that you always seem to see, these days.

pity. pity from the sisters, who you presume is the facilitator of the group, and from the two older attendees. pity from all five of them.

your eyes dart over to the man who couldn’t quit looking at you when you entered. you’re momentarily jarred because he’s not looking at you with pity. he looks intense, yes, but not sad for you. you open and close your mouth and for a second, you think it must be because things are going blurry through your tears– but he gives you a small nod of his head.

your mouth falls open again, still hesitant, and he nods again.

heart tumbling over itself, you rub your hands on your pants and share your name. “i’m sorry, what else am i supposed to answer?” you ask, looking to the facilitator. natasha, her nametag reads to you.

“anything that feels right.”

you’re almost certain there were structured questions, but you feel a distant thankfulness for her flexibility. “um…” you wipe away stray tears. “i lost tucker.” you look back down at your lap. “and–” you’re cut off by a box of tissues being placed on the seat beside you. it’s the man with the staring problem, again. your silent encourager. you take one of the tissues and dab at your eyes. you’re not a delicate crier, but you’d like to pretend you are. “tucker was my husband. and–” your vision is gone again, swept away by salt and the smudging of the mascara you put on yesterday when you tried to fool yourself into thinking you were someone who wore mascara and wore cute outfits and took care of herself. “and i lost him almost a year ago. in a car accident. and– and i’m not doing well.” you laugh a little bit, but there’s nothing funny. not even a little bit. “if you couldn’t tell.”

you manage a crackling inhale before you continue on. “and his mom– god, i love her, she sent me the flyer for this. and i don’t want to be here,” you admit, laughing again. “i don’t want to be anywhere. i want to be where he is. still. and no one seems to understand that. i don’t mean it in a scary, i’m going to hurt myself way. i mean it… i mean it in a, i don’t know what’s left of me without him, way.” you blink and look around the circle. “does that make sense?”

every single person nods their head, and for a moment, you feel comforted. the man with the intense eyes nods with a fervor and you’re drawn to meet his gaze, as sad as you think you must look. the corner of his mouth turns up at you.

“anyway,” you sigh, exhausted from the onslaught of emotional upheaval you’ve just experienced. “that’s me.”

the only person left is him. he clears his throat and says, “man. how do i follow that up?”

it should offend you. but there’s a level of light in his eyes that you hope one day you could achieve again, and it makes you laugh and shake your head and look down at your hands while he speaks.

“my name is jack abbot. my wife, annie, died in 2016. i’ve been coming here every week since 2017.”

the rest of the meeting keeps you quiet. you take a handful of tissues and make your best attempt at cleaning up what you imagine is a true sight on your face. the rest of the meeting passes with very little fanfare– everyone shares, and you half-listen, and you can’t muster up the guilt to feel for being so disinterested in everyone else’s grief. you’d accepted, long ago, that your mourning had made you self centered. where once upon a time, you would be mortified at the thought of anyone thinking you to be selfish– you can’t find it within yourself to care, not anymore. you are selfish. you are self centered. grief had made you someone you didn’t recognize.

by the time natasha dismisses everyone, you all but run out to the street. you suck in a deep breath and you sink into a crouching position, covering your mouth with your hand. heavy boot-clad feet come into your line of sight. when you trail your eyes up, you’re met with that storm cloud gaze. jack.

he doesn’t say a word. but he scoops up your tote bag and he slings it over one shoulder, turns heel, and walks off.

your brows furrow, and you have to decide if it’s worth the effort– but ultimately, you stand, the wind stinging your tear-streaked cheeks. “hey,” you call. “that’s my bag.”

he doesn’t turn around. he keeps a steady, casual pace. not running, but not waiting for you to catch up with him, either. “hey!” you call, growing more frustrated. “what, do you just steal bags for a living?”

jack takes a look at you over his shoulder. “yeah, something like that.”

you pick up your speed so that you can fall into step with him. “what the hell are you doing?”

“i’m going to take you to go eat something. because, no offense, you don’t look great.” he looks you up and down while he continues to walk. “when’s the last time that you ate something with some substance? protein, have you ever heard of it?”

your silence is his answer and he grips the totebag a little tighter. “figured you’d say no if i asked. so…”

“so you stole my bag.”

“not stolen,” he says with a disarming smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “i’m gonna give it back. don’t worry.”

“but…” you try and rack your brain for some excuse.

there wasn’t all too much for you to cite. your work hours had been reduced way back in the weeks after tucker passed. you still worked enough to get by, but not so much that you were drowning in work on top of drowning in your own pain. your friends and family were constantly making attempts to make plans with you, but you were diligent in your efforts to firmly stick out an arm and keep them at that length. easier this way, you told yourself. easier for them to be far far away where they cannot see just how damaged you have become. their worry is the last thing that you want, or need.

coming up empty, jack’s smirk spreads on his face. “yeah, that’s what i thought.”

–

jack’s eyes are like a blanket on you while you push around the eggs on your plate, take a tentative bite of your toast. your stomach is still in knots, as it always is, so ultimately, you set down your fork, your toast, and push your plate away. you turn your gaze to look out the window. your body is there, in that diner, but your mind is far away when jack’s voice brings you back.

“so. husband.”

your eyes snap over to his before they slide back to the window. “yeah.”

“i know a little something about that.”

your brows furrow and your eyes narrow and you lean in towards him. “you don’t know shit about me, or about what i’m going through.” you huff out a disbelieving laugh. “bold of you to think you do. seriously, wow.”

“no, i know. i know this song and dance. i lived it.” he gestures towards you, and then towards himself, and his look is still not pitying. if anything, he seems more annoyed. “it’s addicting, isn’t it? feeling like shit?”

your mouth drops open and you stare at him, trying to muster the words, but they don’t come. he continues talking. “i bet everyone is coddling you. keeping a safe distance from you, lest you snap. not wanting to push you too hard. right? they’re treating you like something breakable. well, you know what i think?”

“you don’t know a god damn–”

“i think that you need someone who’s going to hold you accountable.”

“accountable?” you reel backwards.

“yeah. accountable. accountable of taking care of yourself. accountable of eating. accountable of dragging yourself out of this hole that you’re in. and i don’t think that anyone is stepping up and doing it.”

you grow silent. it’s not that they’re not stepping up– you’re not letting them. maybe jack knows that, too, since he seems to be able to read you like a well-loved and memorized book.

he folds his hands, one on top of the other, staring at you. “and i’m gonna be that person.”

scoffing, you cross your arms over your chest. everything about your body language screams defensive. “why?” you finally ask. you raise your eyebrows up at him.

he shrugs his shoulders. “what can i say,” he stabs his fork into the eggs on your plate, taking a big bite. “i like strays.”

@ovaryacted now hold on-

Mission Impossible AU…but with Jack Abbot. Oouuuu.

Please like/reblog this if you are a writer, giffer, poster, or just a fan of The Pitt so I can follow you 💕🥰

Happy black history month and fuck trump

PEDRO PASCAL at the ‘Die, My Love’ after party at Cannes

lukewarm take but i personally do not give a shit if poor people cheat a system that was designed to fail them anyways. i also coincidentally do not enjoy the taste of boot rubber

He’s so handsome I want to cry

PEDRO PASCAL as GENERAL ACACIUS Gladiator II (2024) dir. Ridley Scott

To Go, Please | the materialists pt 1/2

pairing: Harry Castillo x reader (the materialists)

word count: 2.7k

summary: You have been seeing Harry for a couple of weeks now after meeting him at your friend's wedding. After your last date was cut short due to a work emergency, the two of you want nothing more than each other's company tonight.

a/n: ok so are we all insufferable today between the apple airpod trailer and the materialists? because i am. my god. also, we are calling him Harry for now, as the name card he picks up in the trailer I assumed was his, and the name on it is Harry Castillo?? but either way, i'll change it if need be. also, i've already thought of a new series containing this man-- so much is coming.. ahhh !!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics 

Part One

The sushi place that you were currently sitting at was something of a hidden gem you liked to go to when you needed a break from everything. Being a matchmaker had its joys and perks, being surrounded by people falling in love- and finding their happiness. However, it also had its days when you wanted nothing more than to curl up and vow that love doesn’t exist. Today was one of those days after a client you’d lined up with someone turned out to be nothing but a fraud, leaving the bride at the alter– one of your biggest nightmares.

However, Ming’s Sushi was one of the small slivers of joy you could get access to on a day like today. That and well as of late, another sliver of joy and peace was Harry.

Harry as well had a busy day, not bad, just busy. It was filled with meetings, contract signings, budget reviews, and at the end having to be submitted to a board meeting to discuss the quarterly numbers.

He called you when he was leaving the office, wanting to see you after a long day as well as after hearing about your day, wanting to offer some comfort. He asked where you wanted to go for dinner, and when you said Ming’s, he asked you to be ready within the hour.

Harry was a man like no other. Yes, he was filthy rich, which set him aside– but he was also one of the most generous individuals you’d ever met, not only as a person but as a partner as well.  

He was consistently making you feel seen, heard, and appreciated in every aspect. This was shown by the way you’d offer to help carry something inside last you were together. He thanked you with those big brown eyes and warm smile but insisted on doing it for you– his reasoning was always he wanted to take care of you. 

It was also shown when he would appreciate how beautiful you looked. He’d find small things that you didn’t think you’d notice like the color of your nails, the earrings or eye shadow you wore– small details to you, but he made them feel so much more valuable– made you feel more valuable. 

He worshipped you. 

When he introduced himself at your best friend’s wedding, and from the start, he had a way of somehow making you feel like the most desired person in any room. 

After a night of drinks, getting to know each other more, a few slow dances and a very polite and respectful goodnight kiss from him, he called you the next day to ask you to dinner. 

Since– the last 2 weeks have been nothing short of a complete dream. You’d gone out with him a few times to dinner and once out for a lunch date, but every time he took you home, he kissed you goodbye, kissed the top of your hand and would tell you he’d call you tomorrow— which he always did. 

After the 3rd dinner date you were going to invite him in, but the moment disappeared when an emergency work call of his interrupted the doorstop make out session on your front step— you two were enthusiastic attendees to. 

He reluctantly had to wish you goodnight and promised he’d make it up to you. 

Since then the sexual tension between the two of you has been at an all time high. 

When he picked you up today, it was the first time you'd seen each other since. He wasted no time after helping you into the back of his car before his lips were on yours, whispering how much he missed you, how he’d hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. 

To both of your disappointment, the car ride from your place to the restaurant was less than a few minutes, again cutting your make out reunion short. 

While eating you made small talk about what you’d done since you last saw each other a few days ago. 

You’d momentarily dazed off for a moment as there was a moment where he ordered a dessert from the waiter and your mind wandered. You kept your gaze on the soy sauce bottle in the middle of the table, your mind being pulled back to the events of earlier today. 

He turned to look at you after ordering, noticing where you were. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb shyly and cleared his throat softly, “You look beautiful if I haven’t told you already. Those earrings bring out your eyes…” he said from across the table, taking you away from your thoughts— his brown eyes sparkling from the warm lighting the dining area brought in.

You immediately snap out of it, looking at him across the table, softly smiling, “Oh, um, thank you, you’re very sweet.” you blush, reaching up to touch one of the earrings, suddenly feeling shy. You purse your lips together and lean forward to give him more of your attention. 

He slowly reached his hand over the table for you to take, “So tell me, what’s the story with Ming’s? I wanna know the history…” he smiled warmly, speaking softly.

You looked down at his hand and took it. His hand acts as an anchor for you and the anxieties of today. He immediately started softly running his thumb over your knuckles in an attempt to soothe you, to keep you with him. He leaned himself in closer to give you his fullest attention. 

You kept your gaze on your hand in his, “My grandmother's apartment was about 2 blocks from here growing up. She was friends with the owner. They both had husband’s that worked at the docks back in the day.” you smiled remembering the memories held within these four walls, then you looked up at him, “This place brings a sense of stillness to my chaos. Brings me back to her in a way.”

He nodded, then brought your hand to his lips and gently kissed it, keeping his big brown eyes of maple syrup on you, “I have a place like that, I’ll take you there next time…” he tilted his head as he gazed at you.

You couldn’t help but smile a little brighter, “What’s your ‘Ming’s’ then? Give me a sneak peak…”

He let out a small light chuckle and set your hands down, keeping yours in his, going back to running his thumb along your knuckles, “Esmeralda’s…” he bit the inside of his cheek, “My abuelito’s good friend owns it, has since the 60’s.” he looked down at your hands, “When my tia used to watch me and my siblings, she’d take us there with my grandparents, it was our little thing.” he chuckled reminiscing, “All of the New York fine dining I’ve had over the years… nothing can compete with her tamales…” he tsked and looked up at you as you let out a small chuckle.

“Tamales from Esmeralda’s… Egg Rolls from Ming’s…” you softly hummed, “Anywhere else that brings you that level of comfort?” you asked, looking down at your hand in his.

“Anywhere in the world when I’m with you…” he confessed, not missing a beat. 

You looked up and blushed but let out a small snorted chuckle, “That was horribly cheesy… even for you.” you teased.

His smile lit up the whole room, and he slowly shook his head, “No no, you’re right, that was horribly cheesy— but completely and utterly true.” he stopped and bit his bottom lip for a moment, “Why don’t we get the dessert to go? We can go back to my place— rent a movie or something…” he raised his eyebrows, hopeful, his thumb continuing to rub softly still against your knuckles.

You were a sucker for those damned brown eyes, the ones that looked like a puppy dog whenever he’d look at you in any shape or fashion like this. 

You tsked, smiling, and looked at the waiter passing by and raised your hand, “Excuse me? Could we get the dessert we ordered, to go please?”

He nodded and smiled, telling you he’d have it ready for you in just a moment.

You looked back at Harry, his eyes hadn’t left you. He was puckering his lips a little like he was thinking, he had a small smirk on his upper lip.

You chuckled knowing what he might be thinking and bit your bottom lip, attempting to play hard to get, “Just a heads up, I can only come over for a little while, I’ve got an early morning meeting.” you tucked your hair behind your ear and stood as the waiter brought the dessert in a to-go bag.

He stood and came around to help you put on your jacket, leaning in and kissing your temple and then cheek. “Of course…” he said, putting his hand on the small of your back as he came to stand beside you and offer his arm. You took it and held onto it while you two walked out. 

“Just a little while…” he said as opened the door for you with a wink, and that smirk grew a little bigger.

He had his driver pick the two of you up within moments of you leaving the restaurant. 

As soon as the car door shut and the privacy screen was up after he told the driver to go to his house, you turned to him and had your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to smile but your eyes said otherwise.

He chuckled lowly and cupped your cheek before leaning in slowly and nudging your nose with his, “Just for a little while, don’t worry— I’ll make it worth your while…” he whispered before his lips fell onto yours, kissing you deeply and passionately.

The air damn near was struck out of you by how he kissed you. You hummed as his lips glided against yours, smiling ever so slightly at the understanding of what was about to happen.

His hand slid slowly down your body onto your waist and pulled you closer. He was greedy in the fact that he always wanted closer than you already were, especially in situations like these when each other's lips and tongues were cascading over each other.

Your hands were everywhere, slowly going up and down his chest to pull him closer with this torso, pulling the collar of his sweater towards you, at one point your hand fell to his belt and gave a gentle tug— being bold for once. 

He groaned, panting softly as he pulled his lips away from yours momentarily, "Stay... stay the night..." he pulled you in by your chin, kissing you a few more times before pulling away again, foreheads against each other, out of breath, "I'll buy you clothes, have them delivered tonight..." he cupped your cheek and before his lips fell onto yours he asked once more, "Stay..." he pleaded. 

You two hadn't slept together yet and part of it was you were trying to avoid it deep down. To avoid getting too involved so quickly, knowing he could do so much better than you. 

A part of you was flattered and happy he had given you this much time, but then the other part screamed it was only temporary, you were only meant to be temporary. You knew it wouldn't be forever. Someone like him couldn't make someone like you his forever, right?

However, in the time you had known him, he had been very clear about his intentions and feelings towards you. He wanted it all with you. He was sure of it. He was stubborn about it. He never faltered, never doubted— in fact, he solidified it all by words of devotion and acts of sincerity.

He was something of a rarity. He was a fantasy. The unicorn. The diamond in the rough. He was the perfect fit for most of your clients, however, he wanted you and only you. 

Whether you wanted to believe it or not, he checked off every single box that you buried deep down and even provided more. You hated to admit it to yourself but he was everything you had ever dreamed of for a partner. He brought light to your life, warmth to your days. 

He was what you needed.

He was what you wanted.

You nodded slightly, not realizing you didn’t verbally agree to stay and continued to kiss him. 

After a moment the car came to a stop and the locks all shot up, signaling you had arrived where you needed to be.

He pulled back slowly, hand on your cheek every so softly, "Will you? Stay?" he looked at you with those big brown eyes and you couldn't help but smile and blush. 

"I'll stay..." you nudged your nose with his, softly.

He softly stroked your cheek with his thumb then lightly pecked your lips before reluctantly moving away to open the car door and offer his hand to help you out of the car.

You thanked the driver and scooted out, reaching out and taking his hand while you got out of the vehicle, turning your head ever so slightly to smile at him.

He wrapped your hand around his bicep and closed the door, walking up with you to the front of his building.

His doorman opened the door and welcomed you inside, "Mr. Castillo..." then nodded to you and smiled, "Miss..." greeting you as well.

He smiled warmly and gently touched the man's arm in the most genuine and friendliest way, like the two had known each other for years, "Good evening, Henry, how’s Ruth doing?"

“Feeling much better, she came home from the hospital today, my daughter is taking care of her. Thank you for asking sir…” he smiled. 

Harry smiled and nodded, “You’ll let me know if you guys need anything, yes?” 

Henry nodded and smiled, “Of course sir. Have a lovely night.” 

Once inside, an elevator opened up and the both of you stepped inside, he pushed the top floor.

The tension was palpable, you could shatter it with one small breath. You watched as each floor passed by, trying to calm yourself down, taking small but deep breaths. Mentally telling yourself  level out-- but as soon as the top floor 'ding' hit and those doors opened to his penthouse, you were both on each other.

His hands had a firm but gentle hold on your waist as he backed you up against the wall of his living room, lips crashing over yours in a heated but passionate fit of kisses.

Your hands were on his cheeks then in his hair. They eventually laid on his chest as you pressed yourself against him. 

He moved his head down and kissed your jaw and then neck, sucking a soft mark into your skin.

You moaned his name, gasping softly as his hands moved up your body to pull you off the wall by wrapping his arms around your waist and up your back, continuing to kiss and softly mark your skin.

He went to move down the hall a few steps, moving off your neck and leaning back in for your lips. 

You momentarily opened your eyes to look at him and smiled at you before his lips fell onto yours. Your eyes registered your surroundings and you pulled back to pull your gaze to the nearby surroundings. You chuckled, "Holy... sh-..." your jaw slacked a little, "This is where you live?" you looked around.

He let you do this for a few moments, your eyes looking around you, smiling, looking somewhat baffled before pulling you back to him, making you giggle as he pulled you close, putting one of his arms around your waist.

He whispered hoarsely, "I'll give you a tour later... but I think we've got more pressing matters to get to, yes?" he teased his lips against yours, hand cupping to your cheek.

You nodded and breathlessly whispered back, "Yes..." your eyes fluttered back shut, and leaned to kiss him.

He grinned and leaned in as well, "Good... now where were we?" he then reconnected his lips with yours in a slow deep kiss.

Next Chapter

no pressure taglist: @thebeautytoyourbeat,  @sarahhxx03, @blahkateisdone, @sunnytuliptime, @pedroscurls, @docharleythegeekqueen @pedritosgirl2000 @fancyyoouu @greendudenumber7, @queenofdisaster12

Omg I wanna know what happens next 👀👀

Wouldn't it be nice

Part two

Summary: Three life changing years later you run into Harry Castillo on your first day of work.

Pairing: Harry Castillo x fem. reader

Rating: G

Wordcount: 3.2k

Warnings: vacation romance, unplanned pregnancy, death of parents, Harry is a family man, sister and brother dynamics, moving across country, reunions (sort of)

A/N: I still have no real clue where I'm going with this and how long this will be so... enjoy the ride?

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Main Masterlist // Harry Castillo Masterlist // Wouldn’t it be nice Masterlist

Three years later

Moving across the country was not how you envisioned spending your Christmas break, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. 

Everything had… kind of been a mess ever since you learned you were pregnant. 

You lost your job and your apartment, had to move in back with your parents. Your father got really sick, dying just days before you gave birth to your daughter Emily. 

And just when you thought things were getting better, just before Emily’s first birthday, you were woken up in the middle of the night by a police officer, telling you that your mother had an accident at work which she didn’t survive. 

That night was one of the very few nights you googled him. 

Harry Castillo. 

To say you were surprised at what you found out about him the first time you typed the letters of his name into google, days after finding out you were pregnant, was an understatement. 

The man who stole chocolate bars out of your minibar was a billionaire?

You fell in kind of a hole, reading a lot about him and his work. About him becoming the youngest self made millionaire back in the day. About the charities he supported. About the nasty divorce he went through years ago. Apparently ever since then Harry was New York’s most eligible bachelor Number one and every single female who was seen with him had been marked down as his new romance. 

You called his office. 

Once. 

The number having made its way into your phone for some reason. 

You didn’t reach him, of course. 

A very nice but strict secretary told you that you had to make an appointment and when you couldn’t tell her why you needed one, you were brushed off pretty quickly. 

You couldn’t tell a stranger that the man you had spend six days fucking in every way possible on your dream vacation turned out to be her boss and the father of your unborn child. 

So, you moved on from that. 

You parents had told you more than once to seek out an attorney to get child support. You could have needed the money, keeping yourself afloat with random jobs while applying to local schools in hopes to finally put your degree to some good use. 

So yeah, the last years had been hard, but you would never change a thing because it gave you Emily. 

She was the light of your life, always making you smile even when she spread mashed potatoes over her whole face and into her dark brown curls, big brown eyes looking up at you with mischief. 

She looked so much like her father it wasn’t even funny. 

You wanted to give her everything and more so when you actually got invited for an interview at one of the fanciest private elementary schools in New York City (you might have had a glass of wine too much after having a little pity party for yourself on you birthday that made you apply) you took that as a sign. 

Now you had actually moved to New York City, the school providing you with a little apartment that was more than enough for you and Emily. 

You would take over the first grade at the school, one teacher leaving for an extended maternity leave the school was providing. 

„Mommy is gonna pick you up right here,“ you knelt in front of Emily who looked a little unsure. She never had been at a daycare before and you had spent the last week easing her into it. 

„Promise?“ She asked and your heart broke a little before you nodded, wrapping her into your arms. 

Moments like these made you wish you could be a stay at home mom. 

You wanted nothing more than to spend your time with your daughter, but life had other plans. 

„I love you bug,“ you whispered, kissing her cheek. 

„Love you, mommy!“ She said before she turned around, taking the hand of Miss Clarins, who was working at the daycare and kind of became Emily’s favourite person in the last couple of days. 

„Good luck on your first day!“ The woman said and you sighed, torn but excited to start this new chapter. The good thing was that the daycare was in the same building than the school. You’d never be too far away from her.

„Thank you!“ You smiled, watching your daughter walk into the big room before you took a deep breath and walked towards the teachers lounge. 

„Uncle Harry?“

Harry blinked up, having been sorting through his emails on the phone as the car slowly moved through the city. 

„Yes, Daniel?“ Harry put his phone away, giving his whole attention to his nephew. 

„Can we go have ice cream?“ He asked and Harry chuckled. 

„No baby, you can’t have ice cream. It’s not even 9 am and it’s freezing outside!“ Harry’s sister Sarah scolded. The boy frowned, sitting between the two adults as the car slowly approached the school. 

„Can we have ice cream later?“ Daniel asked hopefully. Sarah have Harry a look to which he only grinned. 

„Tell you what, you be on your best behaviour for your new teacher today and I’ll pick you up after school to get ice cream from that place we found the last time we went to the park,“ Harry promised and Daniel’s eye got huge. 

„Please, Please, Pleasseeee?“ He nodded hopefully, first at Harry, then at his mother. 

„I thought you had a meeting this afternoon,“ she frowned and Harry smirked. 

„Not if you take it,“ he winked and Sarah rolled her eyes, looking between Daniel and Harry who both began to pout, the longer she didn’t say anything. 

„Fine!“ She finally said and Harry put his arm around Daniel’s shoulder just as the car stopped in front of the school. 

„Have a great day, buddy,“ he said and Daniel squeezed him while Sarah already opened the door to step out. 

„You too, Uncle Harry!“ The boy said before he climbed out of the car, waving at him as Sarah walked him into the school. 

He watched after them for a moment, wondering what in the world his (now ex) brother in law was thinking when he just threw his family away. Shaking his head to himself he got his phone out, scrolling through the emails that were already piling up for him. 

Once the contract with the French was finally signed, things would hopefully calm down. 

Maybe he could even take a vacation, his mind immediately wandering to the last time he had something similar to a vacation. 

He hadn’t planned to stay on the island. He had gotten the deal and he wanted to have a drink before making the call to prepare the jet so he could fly back home. 

But then he had seen you. 

It might sound dumb, but it felt like the world just stopped for a moment when he first saw you, your smile wide as you talked to the man working behind the bar. 

You were beautiful. 

And you changed his plans the moment his lips found yours for the first time that very same evening. 

He had cancelled his whole planned week back home, his sister asking him if he was okay before he told her that he had met someone and wanted to spend more time with you. 

It was unlike Harry to one, go on a vacation and two, be interested enough in someone to neglect his work. Even before his ugly divorce almost ten years ago he was a workaholic, something that was a blessing and a curse. 

It was what made him a billionaire at the age of forty two. But it also made him lonely. 

He should have known that you were too good to be true, having waited for you to contact him for an entire month before he decided to move on. 

Sure, if he had wanted he could have probably found you, he had his ways. 

But maybe it was better this way. 

A lovely memory of a week full of passion and, at least for him, love. 

He jumped when the car door flew open and his sister got into the car with a long sigh. 

„So you ditch work for my son now?“ She asked, the car already moving towards the skyscraper that held his company. 

„Do you want to spend all afternoon handling Daniel on the sugar rush I just promised to him?“ He asked, cocking his eyebrow. 

„You make a valid point,“ she mused, before letting her head fall down against his shoulder. 

„I’m glad he has you,“ she said quietly and Harry kissed the side of her head. Her divorce had been equally as dirty as his, maybe even more because a child had been involved. Her ex made her life a living hell until Harry stepped in and…. Not exactly threatened but…. Very pointedly reminded him that he could ruin his life in every possible way if he didn’t stop ruining his sisters life. 

Family was above everything for him, and his ex brother in law had been fucking with his family too much. He hadn’t seen the man in two years, not since he signed the divorce papers and fucked off to somewhere in Europe. 

Both him and his sister enjoyed the quiet in the car before it stopped in front of a tall building. Them carpooling to work had become a regular occurrence since Daniel started school. 

„See you at dinner?“ Sarah asked and Harry nodded, helping her out of the car. They might work in the same company, but they did not see each other much. 

His sister was all he had left of his family. Younger by almost ten years he was fiercely protective over her and everyone knew it. 

The board member who challenged her seat at the table three years after she had started working at his company had been so pissed for Harry voting him out, he still once in a while gave a shitty interview when he needed some more money. 

Sarah and him parted ways once the elevator door opened and Harry was immediately welcomed by his personal assistant Lou who was walking him through his day. 

„Sarah is gonna take the meeting with the French. I promised ice cream to a little boy,“ Harry said as the walked through the door of his sleek office. It overlooked central park and if he looked closely enough he could see the building his penthouse was in on the other side of it. 

„I’ll let them know. I think that’s all. Luxor replied to your proposition, but I haven’t had the chance to read through it yet,“ Lou said and Harry nodded before he sat down at his desk. 

„I’ll take a look. If you don’t hear any glass shattering they agreed,“ Harry joked and Lou rolled his eyes. He liked the young man, loved that he did not take any bullshit from anyone and especially him.

„Oh before I forget, the delivery of the marble for your kitchen renovation has been pushed back again. I will call there and ask what the hold up is, once it’s not the middle of the night in Italy,“ Lou said and Harry sighed. 

„Should just have taken the damn stone that was available,“ he mumbled, a little annoyed. 

He had let his interior designer talk him into some (probably) overpriced marble for his kitchen countertops and island that had been delayed four times already. Everything was finished except for the marble. And while yes, he knew whining about his 16 million dollar penthouse being a construction site was whining on a level most people would bully him for, but he was still annoyed. 

„Do me a favour and just tell the interior designer to pick some available fucking stone if they postpone again? I really wanna be able to use my own kitchen after nine months!“ He said and Lou nodded. 

„I’ll let you know,“ he said before he closed the door behind him and let Harry alone in his office. 

He reached for the cup of coffee that had already been placed on his desk, taking a sip as his laptop powered up. 

Five hours before he gets to leave. 

All in all, your first full day teaching at the new school had gone very well. 

Miss Cooper, who was heavily pregnant and would leave at the end of this week, had taken you into the classroom and you had spend and hour answering every single question the kids had. 

Of course you having your own horse that was now living its best life on a ranch outside of your hometown (your father’s best friend had taken it in for you) was the one topic that was most interesting. 

During lunch break you went into the daycare to pick up Emily, wanting to have lunch with her. 

She told you about all the friends she had already made, clumsily stumbling over her own words when she forgot to take a breath. You were glad she was settling in so well. 

As promised you were waiting for her outside of the daycare once your class was finished for the day, Miss Cooper telling you she would take over seeing the kids out. You decided to join her instead, Emily settled against your hip. She was very tired.  

The school ground was filled with parents and children alike, all waiting to go home after a long day of learning. Emily’s head was leaning against your shoulder as you watched over the chaos. 

„There is a list with who is authorised to pick up the kids. I think you’ll have down the faces of the people who usually come to pick up down quickly. If someone else is picking a child up, the person in the morning usually lets us know. Like today, Daniel is not getting picked up by his mother, but by his uncle,“ she ran a finger down her list. 

„Here he is. Harry Castillo,“ Miss Cooper said and you swore you could feel your heart stop for a small moment, before it picked up again. 

„Oh I remember him. Super nice and super attractive,“ she whispered for only you to hear and you smiled a little. 

„Don’t let your husband hear that,“ you tried to joke, making her chuckle. She rubbed her hand over her belly and sighed. 

„Is a baby in there?“ Emily chose to ask in that moment, pointing towards her and you both laughed. 

„Indeed there is. A little baby boy that will hopefully come out sooner than later,“ she joked, with a fond smile. 

„Cool,“ was all Emily said and you rolled your eyes a little, kissing her head. 

„Daniel! Your uncle is here!“ Miss Cooper called over her shoulder and little footsteps were quickly approaching from behind. You pulled Emily closer, turned your back towards the front where he must be approaching. 

It couldn’t be him, right?

There probably were a million Harry Castillo’s out there. 

„Miss Cooper!“ You heard a voice behind you and you closed your eyes for a moment, your shoulders tensing because you knew that voice. 

„Mister Castillo. I heard there will be ice cream today?“ Miss Cooper made small talk while you still had your back towards them, seemingly keeping an eye on the children. 

„We are also gonna search for a birthday gift for his mom,“ he explained. 

„That sounds like a perfect plan,“ Miss Cooper said before she met your eyes. 

„This is the lovely woman who is gonna replace me when I go on maternity leave at the end of the week,“ she added your name and you took a deep breath before you finally turned around, lips pressed into a tight smile. 

His lips parted the moment his eyes found yours and he whispered your name. 

He was still as handsome as you remembered, a little more grey in his hair than before maybe. 

He blinked at you, then his focus slipped to Emily who was about to fall asleep in your arms. The girl who looked so much like him. 

„Uncle Harry!“ Daniel’s voice interrupted this reunion, crashing into Harry’s side who shook his head for a moment before he picked Daniel up with a groan and a wide smile. 

„Hey there buddy! You ready for ice cream?“

„For lunch?“ Daniel gasped and Harry winked at him with a nod. 

„Where is your coat?“ Miss Cooper asked and Daniel’s eye became big. 

„Inside,“ he whispered and Harry put him down. 

„Come on, I’m going in with you. Need to go to the restroom for the fiftieth time today,“ she joked, before walking away and into the building with Daniel. 

Which left you alone with him. 

When you finally looked at him again, he was already looking at you. He looked confused. Happy? Shocked? 

„You never called,“ he said quietly and you released a long breath. 

You shook your head. 

„How….“ He looked at Emily again who was now fast asleep in your arms. 

„How old is she?“ He croaked. 

„She’s turning three in four months,“ you whispered and you saw the moment he did the math, his lips parting, before he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 

„And you never called?“ He whispered, eyes watering. 

„What we had? I didn’t want to… I didn’t think it would be the same. We didn’t know each other. Not really. I wanted it… to stay a beautiful memory. It’s why I threw your number away before I even reached the airport,“ you tried to explain. 

You looked away from him and over the by now almost empty schoolyard.

„And when I found out that I was pregnant? It was too late,“ you added quietly. 

„You are right. It was a beautiful memory,“ he said and you looked up at him. You heard the door behind you open. 

„But maybe now you’ll give me chance to make more of those memories?“ He asked and you gulped. 

„We can go!“ Daniel, wearing his coat now, impatiently took Harry’s hand who laughed. 

„I’ll see you tomorrow,“ Harry said, taking one last look at you and at Emily before he turned away, letting Daniel pull him towards the street. 

When they were gone, you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, your mind running wild. 

He was here.

Harry was here

In a city of over 8 million people you ran into him on your first day at work. 

And he knew about you and Emily now. 

Kissing her head you slowly turned around to walk into the building to get your bags. 

A part of you was scared what a man with as much money and power could do now that he knew he had a child. 

But the bigger part of you, the one that never admitted even to yourself that you fell in love with Harry on that island, was holding on to the hope that maybe all of this was faith. 

And the start of something beautiful.