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The Secret of My Success, ch 9

Harry Castillo x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When not even a professional matchmaking firm can help Harry Castillo find love, he turns his attention to helping his best friend meet their soulmate instead. The surprise of finding his own in the process will challenge the attitude Harry has taken toward dating for his entire life, and open up a whole new world of romance.

(This story picks up where the last chapter of The Unbearable Weight of Perfection leaves off, and will weave in a few other soulmate characters from previous stories just for fun. Don't worry if you haven't read those stories though! I'll be dropping the pertinent references in each chapter's note section to read along with Harry and his soulmate's adventures.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: *Reader is nicknamed Mack* (Continuous warnings for: food/alcohol consumption, tobacco smoking.) A touch of naughty flirting, and an unexpected surprise. Summary: It's finally time for Percy and Tamara's wedding, and Harry is looking to the future as well as to the past. Notes: Another trying week at work, because reality bites. Nothing makes me happier than getting to share these little fantasy worlds with all of you. I hope you enjoy!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8

"How are we feeling?" Standing with Tamara at the mirror in the bridal suite of the hotel, you help adjust her necklace so the clasp is out of sight and remind her to breathe by making a show of letting out a long breath in the mirror beside her. "It's almost time."

“I cannot believe that it’s finally the day I marry the love of my life.” She whispers, smiling so widely her cheeks hurt but she can’t help it. “Everything is perfect.” Her eyes find you in the mirror. “Thanks to you.”

"Don't get all starry eyed just yet," you tease, hugging her to your side. "There's so much left to the night for you to enjoy."

“No.” She turns, the dress rustling slightly and she takes your hands. “You had worked miracles and I hope you know how much we appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do.” A promise. Made from your heart to hers. “Percy is so happy. And so desperately in love with you. I’m just thrilled you let me be a part of it.”

“How did he look?” She asks. They had decided not to see each other before the wedding, something that she is regretting now.

“Not as good as Harry.” It’s just a small joke, but it makes her laugh. “He looks perfect. The silver pocket square and tie was the right call.”

“He’s probably giving Percy a drink to calm him down, isn’t he?” Tamara smirks. “He’s bouncing off the walls, I’m betting.”

“He was when I went down there.” In your navy blue jacquard bridesmaids dress with your hair and make up all done, you had gone down to check on your best friend and found all the men in various states of nerves and playing poker for snack foods. “He’s excited. And misses you.”

“I miss him too.” She admits with a sappy grin. She had asked for the room to be cleared of just you and her for a moment, the other bridesmaids were with the flower girls and her mother. “How are you and Harry?”

“We’re good.” You adjust your own necklace this time — a beautiful piece that Harry had bought for you to wear tonight. Tiffany, of course. “We’re…really really good.”

“It shows.” She promises with a soft smile. “Percy said he’s never see Harry look at someone the way he looks at you.”

“Our parents met this week.” Nervous now, you fidget a little in place. “And…we’re taking a trip next week. Our own little version of a honeymoon, if you will.”

“Where to?” She asks with a delighted grin. If anyone needs a vacation, it’s you.

“Back home.” Suddenly you’re beaming. “Fayetteville and Asheville. He wants to see Asheville first, though. Biltmore and all that.”

“Oh that sounds like it will be fun!” She admits easily. “You love historic places and it’s a beautiful estate.”

“I used to work there when I was in college.” And those memories are well cherished, which is why you’re so excited to share them with Harry. “But enough about us, honey. It’s your wedding day.”

“It’s helping me from freaking out.” She admits with a nervous grin. “Security in place?” She asks. “I know the paps spotted me yesterday.”

“Everything is locked down, security has guest checklists and only two entrances are being used for the whole night. One for the guests at the front, and one for staff around the side of the building. Each door has security and a checklist. Absolutely no one who isn’t on one of those two lists is getting in.”

“Good.” She sighs in relief and closes her eyes. “I just want this to be a normal day for us.” She admits. “So much of my life is lived in the public eye, I want this for myself.”

"And it will be," you promise her. The security that had been put in place by the museum had no problem with the parameters you put in place. These people worked everything from fundraising dinners to the Met Gala. A celebrity wedding was a drop in the bucket for them.

“You know how to take care of everything.” She praises softly. “I am going to make sure you get a raise after this.”

"My commission is plenty," you remind her. "I saw the contract, Tam. The decimal point you moved? It's too generous."

“Nope.” She shoots you an unimpressed look. “Remember, Harry tells Percy how often you work more than he does.” She snorts. “And that’s saying something.”

"It's still a hell of a lot." Thanks to Tamara's insistence, the check that is cut for you after this wedding will be an actual small fortune. "I can't possible say how grateful I am that you put so much faith in me. And that you take such amazing care of my best friend."

“We are family now.” Tamara winks at you. “We are going to be helping each other out for the rest of our lives.”

"I love you too, babe." A lot of vows of sisterhood had been made on that bachelorette trip, but you have to say -- with Tamara, you really feel like you have the sister you always dreamed of. "Now." Squeezing her arm, you look into the mirror one last time. "Let's go get you married."

The rest of the bridesmaids file back into the room, gasping and squealing at Tamara’s appearance and she has to warn them not to make her cry. Her mascara is waterproof but it will only hold up for so long.

"Save the crying for the altar, ladies." It's only a gentle tease, but you know you have a handkerchief tied around Tamara's bouquet on purpose.

“No, no tears.” She grins. “We will let Percy do the crying.”

"And he absolutely will." Renee laughs. She's so giddily excited for her big sister that she's practically weepy herself.

“Okay, okay.” Tamara lifts her bouquet as if it’s a sword. “To the altar!” It’s like a battle cry and all the bridesmaids cheer her on.

******

The best weddings evoke hope and sentimentality in their guests. People sitting in stiff chairs watching somebody else be — at best — desperately in love, could easily be discouraged. Instead, there wasn’t a single dry eye in the place while Tamara and Percy made their vows. The joy is as infectious as it is palpable during the ceremony. A ceremony which is blessedly short, as so many wedding ceremonies are not.

Just minutes after their joyous sprint back up the aisle, the entire bridal party is being posed for fun and breathtaking photos.

Considering the generousness of Percy and Tamara’s donation on top of the exorbitant wedding fees, the museum had let them choose whatever part of the museum they liked — within reason — to use for photos, so the happy couple were currently posed amongst the statuary in the American Wing’s courtyard while the photographer clicked away.

“So…” When you get a chance to breathe during a short break, Harry is talking to one of the other bridesmaids and her husband, so you sidle up to Eva. “How was the date the other night? What was his name? Reeve?” She’d been so excited in the group chat two days ago you’d thought she would burst.

"I know it's early, but...he's perfect." Eva beams, not smothering her smile even for a moment. It seems to grow brighter by the second. "We're going out again in a couple of days, after all of the wedding chaos calms down."

"I want to hear absolutely every detail," you insist, smiling over at Harry across the courtyard as he chats with Tamara's fashion designer friend and her husband. Your type of perfect. He really is your Prince Charming.

Harry looks across the space, drawn to you as your eyes meet. The way you make him feel makes every word spoken to this couple important. He had wanted to meet them and now he’s happy he has. “Thank you.” He hates to look away but he is shaking Javi’s hand. Then his wife’s. Eager and hopeful. “I’ll be in touch.”

"Any time." She says, smiling as Harry turns away and the photographer calls the couple over to join a shot.

He takes that as his cue to make his way back over to you. His stride easy and quickly covering the courtyard. Over to where you are giggling and whispering with the tv actress from that show you watch. “Ladies.”

"Hi gorgeous." Your finger strokes along the lapel of his tuxedo, accented by a white jasmine boutonniere and making Harry look sleek and sexy as hell.

He hums as his hand finds your waist and he squeezes it gently. He shoots Eva a smile but then his focus is on you. “Have I told you how stunning you are today?” He asks softly.

“Only about three times already.” But it’s still a thrill to hear. The custom-made bridesmaid dress could have been a nightmare under a lot of circumstances, but Tamara had insisted that each slightly different dress on the same color and fabric be the most flattering design possible, and tonight you feel like a princess because of it. Either way Harry as your prince. “I think we need to find more excuses for you to wear this tux, if I’m honest.”

He chuckles softly. “We can make that happen.” He promises. “There’s several functions a week I turn down.” He admits. “Only one every few weeks is black tie, but we could start attending. Introducing you to New York society.”

“Society?” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Is that still a thing?”

He snorts and gives you a pointed look. “Of course it is.” He tells you. “There are even debutante balls.”

“That’s still a thing?” Your tone is equal parts impressed and horrified.

“Yeah.” He laughs at your expression. “My client’s daughter just had her debut three months ago. I attended. It was a really nice party.”

“Well shit.” You let out a soft laugh. “I had no idea.”

“Honestly?” Harry shoots you a small smile. “It’s easier to think about it being the upper echelons quinceañera or bar mitzvah.” He admits.

“That…makes more sense.” His arm around your waist is grounding and warm, making your smile grow brighter. “I’d rather think about our daughter having a quinceñera one day.”

“Whatever she wants.” It’s not lost on him that you are talking about a little girl and that makes him smile as he leans in. “Whatever you want.”

“Right now I just want you.” Leaning in, you leave a kiss on his cheek and feel that contented skipped heartbeat echo in your chest. “And since I have you, I’m overjoyed.”

“That’s good.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it as he steps away slightly. “Do you want to get a drink or dance?”

“Photos are almost done.” There had been an early round of champagne, but soon you’ll join the reception and sit down to dinner. “We should grab cocktails before dinner. Celebrate properly.”

“Eva?” He doesn’t want to exclude your friend. “Would you like to go with us to the bar?” He asks politely.

“I’m okay,” she assures him with a smile. “But hurry back. After family pictures, I think we’re ready for the reception.”

“We will.” Harry promised as he guides you away. “Good.” He murmurs in your ear as he leans close. “I want to steal a kiss while we are gone.”

“Such a good boy,” you tease, laughing as he pulls you away. Weddings obviously make him very squishy — and you love them too. “So well behaved.”

“Not if you could read my mind.” Harry smirks as he pulls you towards a small alcove for a place for a moment of privacy.

“Oh?” You ask, even though the little push and pull has already made you a little breathless.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ and smirks as he presses close. “Thinking about sliding under this dress.”

“Ooo, very naughty.” If only you weren’t wearing a practically bulletproof layer of shapewear.

“I know I can’t.” He huffs, leaning in a pressing a kiss to your neck and sighing. “Damnit.”

“I have never hated Spanx more,” you half-joke ruefully.

“Don’t worry.” He knows you feel more confident in them, but you could have done without. “I’ll peel them off you later.”

“Sexy.” Snorting and rolling your eyes to punctuate your sarcasm, you still end up with a wide smile on your face. You’ve been like this all day. All week. All month? And it’s thanks to this man right here.

“It is sexy.” He is sporting a semi and had no problem pressing that against your hip with a small nudge. “They need to build those things with easy access holes.”

That earns him a smirk, and you wrap your arms around his neck in turn. “I think you’d lose your mind if I got a properly made corset, wouldn’t you?”

“Goddamn.” He groans, twitching harshly. “I would fucking love it. As long as it didn’t hurt you.” He frowns as he pulls back and looks at you seriously. “None of that waist training shit that’s popular again.”

“Gross,” you wince animatedly. “No way. A good one costs a fortune but they can be amazing for back support.”

“So have one made.” He huffs, rolling his eyes at you. “Use my credit card.”

“I’ll find out a good designer to order from.” And that is a promise. You already know it will be his favorite thing in the world so you want to make sure it’s quality.

“Order two.” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours.

“We should get those drinks,” you point out, though you steal a kiss instead of moving. “Otherwise they’re gonna think we’re ran off to fuck in a corner.”

“Too bad we can’t.” He smirks as he steps back this time and makes sure that you look put together.

“Next time.” The wink you throw him is salacious and you put yourself back in order before taking his arm.

He smirks slightly, hoping that the next wedding he’s hurrying you off to a corner is your own. “Rum and Coke?” He asks. “Or are you feeling champagne?”

“The specialty cocktail is a Citrus Blossom 75. It’s calling my name.” Your fond, slightly lopsided smile quirks upward. “Are you sticking with your top shelf whiskey, my darling snob?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry huffs, straightening slightly and smirking at you. “Didn’t Percy make sure the bartenders stocked it?”

“Of course he did.” But you roll your eyes playfully. “I made sure they stocked it, because you and Percy and Peter are delightful snobs.”

“But you have to agree I have excellent taste.” He hums. “You are my favorite dessert, after all.”

“Dirty,” you snicker under your breath, giggling softly as you emerge by the bar.

******

Before either of you knows it, it’s hours later and the music has turned slow. Dinner is done. Cake has been served. The alcohol has had a mellowing effect on the crowd. Harry hums as he holds you close, swaying to the music.

It’s a ballad by some pop singer whose name you don’t know, but the movement is what matters. Being held up in Harry’s arms, so close is the circle of his body, is pure intimacy. It seems like you’ve danced with your entire family and all of his tonight, plus friends to boot, but this is where you have wanted to be the whole time. Just here in his arms.

“Look at them.” Harry nods towards the middle of the floor where Percy and Tamara are wrapped up in one another. The smiles on their faces must ache by this point but they haven’t dropped them at all. Not even while they kiss. “Can you believe they are here? That we are here?”

Your own smile is nearly as broad, but you sniffle and laugh all the same. “I’m gonna cry again if you make me look.” It would be the third time tonight, but the teasing has only been mild. It is your best friend after all.

“There’s something you’ve not seen all night and I’m so surprised you haven’t.” He admits quietly.

"Oh?" You can't think of what it might be, considering you planned the damn wedding. Everything is in its place, and those places are perfect. The only hiccups tonight were well hidden, and you're damn proud of that.

Harry leans in, his lips close to your ear. “The bride hasn’t had a single sip of alcohol all night.” He confides softly.

The second he says it; your eyes widen to the side of saucers. "Ohhhhhhhhh my god..." You know you can't raise your voice above a whisper or else you'll be shouting and screeching with joy. "She must have just found out! We were drinking in Vegas last weekend!"

“She must have.” He doesn’t know it for certain, but he has thought it odd that she’s put down her glass every time she’s been given champagne tonight.

"Oh my god." In danger of full of sobbing with the joy that is bursting out of your chest, you bury yourself in Harry's chest and shudder on a long exhale. "They're going to be such amazing parents."

“Yes, they are.” He can completely agree with you on that. Hugging you close and resting his chin on the top of your head. Somehow managing to imagine your own reaction to being pregnant.

As if you can read his mind, you sigh softly and relax into his chest. "I can't wait until it's us," you whisper.

“Can we at least wait until I have a ring on your finger?” He asks with a chuckle.

"I'm not trying to rush you," you promise him, looking up with a starry-eyed expression on your face. "I'm just...dreaming."

“I know.” He does know that. Both of you have a plan for the future and he knows that unless an accident happens, a baby isn’t on the docket right now.

"For now we get to be supportive best friends, and then we get to be the fun New York aunt and uncle."

“We will.” Harry agrees. “And we can go out to LA to visit.”

"They just had to go live on the west coast." Playfully rolling your eyes again, you're still grinning. "All of our kids are going to be so loved."

“And it seems like you are making a lot of friends lately.” He is proud for you, wanting you to be social.

"Turns out that people in New York are friendlier than I was told." He laughs at that, and you reach up to cup his cheek. "I guess we'll see how I do in society, but I seem to be meeting regular people just fine."

“Believe me, they will love you.” Harry predicts.

"We'll see how you do in the Carolinas first," you tease, busting at the seams with how excited you are to show him the place you consider to be your hometown.

“Still want to leave as soon as we wake up?” Harry asks. The plane is already fueled and ready to go. He just needs to give the crew an hour’s notice so they can get to the airport and file the flight plan.

"Yeah." The plan had been adjusted since its inception, and you had decided to fly out to Asheville early tomorrow morning. You'll spend a few days on the Biltmore estate and then go on to Fayetteville to see your parents and show him around the town where you and Percy got into trouble as teens. "We can get airport coffee shop breakfast and cuddle on the plane."

He smirks slightly and shakes his head. “Baby, they are going to have food on the plane.” He explains. “And there’s an espresso machine.”

"Well how am I supposed to know that?" You pout at him, over the top and silly, and grin when it makes him laugh. "I'm not fancy like you, remember? I've never been on a private plane."

“I get to see another one of your firsts.” He hums proudly. His hands run up and down your back as he continues to dance with you.

"You're going to get to see a lot of them." The song has changed, but your tempo hasn't. There is nothing in the world that could move you from right here in his arms. "The best is yet to come."

The entire day has gone according to plan. So much so that a hazy detail, a fragment from his past that had once been so important had been completely forgotten until that second. Until he sees him.

You feel it before you see it. Harry goes stiff in your arms and his eyes narrow, the light in them dimming considerably. “Babe?”

He blinks, sure that it’s a fucking mistake. That this man isn’t at this wedding as well. It’s been a few years. He can’t still be working for the same catering company.

“Baby?” You try again, reaching up to cup Harry’s cheek like it might smash him out of whatever had just happened. “What’s wrong, love?”

Harry startles slightly, inhaling as he looks back at you. “The catering company?” He demands. “What’s the name again?”

When you tell him he goes ashen, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re not feeling sick are you?” For a wedding this size and this caliber, the caterers making everyone sick would be a logistical nightmare at best and a literal career roadblock at worst, but your focus is on Harry.

“No.” His face hardens slightly, the other man’s eyes meeting his and recognition dawning as he starts to stride over. White shirt, black trousers, black apron. It looks like nothing has changed in the past few years.

You spin around, having drifted to the edge of the dance floor, and find a man with short brown hair and bright, yet decidedly tired eyes walking toward you with unmistakable purpose. One of the caterers.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says, his hand twitching a little like he isn’t sure if he should extend it or not.

Harry could say the same. “Surprised that you still work in catering.” He answers after a moment, having the same thought about a handshake, but his ingrained manners override his irritation, and he offers a firm handshake. “Acting career still hasn’t blossomed like you hoped?”

“Turns out I like to stay busy.” The other man says with a shrug of one shoulder. “Still working both jobs for the hustle as much as anything.”

Harry knows that you are confused, and he will introduce you in a moment, but he glances around quickly. “You didn’t bring her, did you?”

“Uh…no…” Taking his hand back, the man shoves it in his pocket with an air of anxiety. “She’s home…with the baby.”

Baby. It doesn’t hit as hard as it might have a few months ago, but there is a moment where Harry just stares at him. “Congratulations.” He offers before he pulls you closer. “Mack, please forgive me.” He hums as he glances at you. “This is John.” He pauses for moment, forgetting the man’s last name. “Lucy’s John.”

“John Finch.” He holds out his hand to you now, beginning to understand the situation a little bit more.

“Oh my…um…hi.” When you shake his hand it might be a little firmer than it needs to be but you’re not apologizing for that.

“This is Mack.” Harry sounds proud, because he is. His fingers digging in slightly into your waist. Grounding himself. “My soulmate.”

"Well I'll be damned." John smiles, a lopsided and surprised thing, and nods his head in understanding. "Congratulations."

“Thank you.” He looks back at you with a soft smile and then back at John. “Things worked out like they were supposed to.”

"It seems like it." John agrees. He has a few opinions for himself but he's trying to be friendly. For Lucy's sake. Harry Castillo really had meant something to her, otherwise everything they went through wouldn't have been so difficult for her.

“Well…” the conversation is awkward and making him think about things that he had tried to put behind him. “Congratulations again.” Harry offers.

“We should all get dinner some time.” John bursts out, almost like an involuntary reflex. He's trying so hard to be social. To be friendly and accepting.

Harry had been ready to end the conversation there. To put old wounds to bed and be happy that there was a civil conversation between him and the man his almost fiancée had chosen. His eyes snap back up to John’s and he sees something swimming in their depths. Maybe it’s guilt, or ego, he doesn’t know. But the man is asking for something. He could be petty and say that he doesn’t think that it’s a good idea. Or laugh at the ludicrous suggestion. Then he feels the way your hand slips into his. Warm and reassuring. Steadying and supportive.

“That would be nice.” He finds himself pulling a card out of his jacket, a habit that crosses over into even the most private of functions. “We are out of town next week, but give me a call and we can arrange something.” He tells the other man.

"Sounds good." He pockets the card, nods to you, and smiles again in that awkward way he has. "I should, uh...I should get back to work. Nice to meet you, Mack."

"You too," you murmur, barely knowing what else to say.

John turns to walk away and then stops short and whirls around. “Uh— drinks?” He asks, brows raised. “Either of you want one?”

"We're okay for right now. Thank you, though." Never hiring this company for a function you're attending ever again, you note to yourself, threading your fingers through Harry's hand to hold him steady.

“How the fuck—” Harry huffs as he shakes his head, turning towards you. “I’m sorry.”

"Baby, for what?" As soon as John has turned away, you wrap Harry up in your arms and head a few steps in the opposite direction. "You didn't do anything to apologize for."

“For…that.” He gestures back to where you had just been standing. “I had forgotten all about the fucking catering company. And then, who would have guessed he’s still working there?”

"What's the worst that happens?" You tut softly, rubbing his back with one hand. "We have one awkward dinner with your ex and then never speak to them again? We're fine babe. I'm sure he won't even call."

He chuckles quietly, realizing that you are right. He probably won’t even call. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

"I love you," you remind him, and punctuate it with a kiss. "Now, I believe that we were dancing. Why don't we do a little more of that?"

“Absolutely.” Shooting you a smile as he takes your hand and guides you back to the crowded dance floor. Putting the past behind him and focusing on you.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Harry Castillo #Harry Castillo x reader #Harry Castillo x female reader #Harry Castillo x f!reader #Harry Castillo x plus size reader #Harry Castllo x ps!reader #plus size reader #Materialists #Materialistis fanfic #soulmate au

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wardenparker · 7 days ago

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wardenparker · 7 days ago

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get you a man who can do both

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wardenparker · 8 days ago

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so slutty when a man stretches and exposes his lower tummy. you know what you're doing.

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wardenparker · 8 days ago

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Some days writing one thousand words is something you just kind of do to keep your hands busy between sips of coffee and some days writing one thousand words is the hardest fucking thing you've ever done in your life

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wardenparker · 8 days ago

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The Secret of My Success, ch 8

Harry Castillo x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: *Reader is nicknamed Mack* (Continuous warnings for: food/alcohol consumption, tobacco smoking.) Mention of a childhood bully, talk about body types/size and body image, plenty of fluff! Summary: The meeting of the parents opens doors that may lead to real joy, and Harry begins to plan for the future in more than one way. Notes: I had a bitch of a week at work and I am sleepy, so please forgive any errors I may have missed. Enjoy, darlings! (Some continued talk of The Alewife this chapter!)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7

“We are cutting it too close for comfort.” Checking his watch, Harry shifts in his seat and looks out the window. “We should have left ten minutes earlier.”

“Babe, we’re okay,” you squeeze his knee gently, trying to soothe your boyfriend’s nerves while you drive. He wants tonight to be perfect just as much as you do. Maybe more. “I’ll hand my car off to the valet. That will save us ten minutes off my usual insistence that I can park it myself.”

“It was good that we sent my car to pick your parents up.” He nods, flashing you a small smile of gratitude that you will let someone else park your car for you. He still has to convince you to let him buy you something else.

“They thought I was sending a cab,” you giggle softly. “I thought my mother’s head was going to pop off when I explained your driver was coming to get them.”

“They don’t have anything against rich people, do they?” He asks, suddenly wondering if he was going to be judge for being successful.

“No, babe.” And if you gave him that impression, you didn’t mean to. “I just meant…they’re firmly middle-class folks. That’s how Percy and I grew up. The way you live…it’s going to seem like the kind of thing you only see in movies to them.” A warm smile lifts half your mouth into something quirked and teasing. “It feels like that to me, too, sometimes.”

“But you don’t mind it, do you?” Harry frowns slightly and wonders if you might prefer a more low key apartment. Like the one he had rented to you.

“Why would I mind?” The valet stand is just up ahead and you switch lanes to be able to pull up more easily. “Oh no,” you huff dramatically, obviously play acting. “My boyfriend takes care of me and we live in a beautiful penthouse! I had to convince him to let me help with the bills and he thinks I’m sexy even when I wear dumb t-shirts and cutoffs! My life is so harrrrrd!”

He chuckles at you, smirking slightly. “You do look sexy in t-shirts and cutoffs.” He insists. “Especially when you aren’t wearing a bra or panties.” That’s your favorite way to walk around the penthouse, and he’s not complaining. He’s just got to get you to trade the cutoffs for something easier to slide his hand into.

“You just like easy access,” you tease, throwing him a wink.

“I do.” Since you have started spending most nights at his place - not fully moving in until the wedding is over - he’s spent a lot less time working at home. Often listening to you work, and distracting you when he can get away with it.

You’re both still grinning when you pull up to the valet stand, and you exchange your keys for a numbered slip before heading inside. By the grace of whatever power is out there, you managed to be the first ones there and the hostess brings you to your table at the back of the restaurant without any fuss.

“I wanted them to seat us somewhere that could afford us privacy for conversations.” He admits as you look around the less busy area. “So I booked the room.”

"You anxiety-booked." It's just an observation, but you've noticed that he over-plans when he's nervous, trying to safeguard against any worst-case scenarios. "Baby, it's going to be fine. They're going to be happy for us."

“I know. I know.” He would be irritated at himself if he didn’t know that this is how he would react. He knows himself too well to even pretend he wouldn’t be worried. Because for him, their acceptance is critical because you love them.

“I love you,” you remind him, kissing his cheek just before the sound of more footsteps is heard.

Harry doesn’t pull away, he’s not ashamed of your affection, but he does turn when he senses people walking into the room. His arm is around your back, holding you proudly as your mother and father are guided to the table by the hostess.

Harry gets a kiss to his cheek before you lean back again, smiling at your parents. “Hi guys,” you’re beaming and don’t care to hide it. “Come meet Harry.”

Harry sees the speculation, the mild surprise that registers in your parent’s eyes as they approach. He wonders if your previous relationships were vastly different and he holds you close.

Your father steps forward, introduces himself and his wife — no titles, no pretension, no rank, just Julia and Tom — and shakes Harry’s hand like a man who doesn’t know his own strength. For a guy who’s spent his lifetime in the military, he’s awfully jovial. He wants this to go well.

Your mother, after also shaking your boyfriend’s hand, leans over to you before sitting down. “Much more handsome than the last one,” she commends in a whisper, making you sputter a laugh at her honesty.

“Thank you for joining us for dinner.” Harry offers as he looks at both of them. “Mack has been looking forward to seeing you again and I have been quite nervous to meet the parents of the woman I love.” He decides it’s best to lay his cards on the table up front.

Both of your parents look impressed at the declaration, and you have to resist the urge to do something girlish like giggle. It’s still new to hear and you love it every time.

“It’s our pleasure, honey,” your mother assures him. “We’ve been wanting to meet you, too.”

“My parents should be here soon.” He smiles at your mom. “Father had sent a text saying he dragging mother out of the office.”

“No one in either of our families can claim not to be a workaholic,” you tease, knowing your parents ares just as bad. After all, there was a reason you initially spent so much time at Percy’s house as a kid — your parents were always working.

“No.” Harry chuckles and reaches for your hand. “However, it is nice that you and I can work from home in the evenings.” He admits. “With that show you love playing.”

“Oh god.” Your mother laughs. “Which one? She has so many.”

“Watching Say Yes to the Dress and Four Weddings counts as research for work,” you grumble, though your tone is fond.

“She likes it.” Harry smiles at you and lifts your hand to kiss the back of it gently. “I didn’t usually watch tv, so it’s been a nice change.”

“I got you hooked on Bridgerton,” you remind him, enjoying the victory of that one particularly. Harry had been so dubious but he’s starting to love period dramas.

“We don’t talk about that.” He jokes, his tone is serious but he’s smirking slightly.

“About what, mijo?” Maria Castillo appears as if from nowhere, with a designer bag on one arm and her husband on the other.

“Mama.” He stands quickly and moves over to greet both of his parents. His mother pulled into a hug and his father given a handshake. “Glad you could join us.”

“We would never miss this,” she promises him. “I can’t remember the last time you actually introduced us to a girlfriend.”

He chuckles. “That’s because I never have one long enough to introduce you.” He admits. “Until now.” He looks over at your parents and you. “Mama, this is Mack.” He says softly, holding out his hand for you to join him.

“Mack.” She shakes your outstretched hand and smiles with curiosity. “What an unusual name.”

“It’s a nickname,” you offer, willing to leave it at that, but your father laughs proudly behind you.

“She had a bully in middle school.” As proud as a peacock, your father is practical chuckling all the way through the short story. “The kid made the mistake of cornering her and her friend Percy after school one day. My girl hit him like a Mack truck. Broke his nose in the process. It’s been her badge of honor ever since.”

“Oh my.” His mother’s eyes widen with both surprise and respect as she glances down at the hand that is shaking hers. “Mack.” She repeats and smiles at both you and Harry. “Nice to meet you.”

“I don’t know if Harry told you.” When you shake her hand a second time it is firmer, more solid. That’s…extremely reassuring, actually. “I grew up an Army brat. Learning to defend yourself is a coming-of-age moment.”

"Yes, he said that you had grown up with Percy." She nods. "I admire that kind of service." She adds, looking over at your parents with respect.

"We're hard-working people it seems." Your father reaches out to shake Antonio Castillo's, and the men exchange that paternal nod that seems to come so easily to men of their age.

The parents seem to like each other, something that is an immense relief to Harry as you all settle back down and the waiter comes over to bring the bottles of champagne that he has requested be brought to the table. "I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering champagne for this meeting." He says. "It's a celebration, tonight."

The waiter serves, pouring out glasses before tucking the rest of the bottle safely into an ice bucket and politely asking about appetizers. Antonio, who seems to have taken charge of the ordering for no other reason than wanting to share his favorite things, orders an entire chilled seafood tray and blue cheese puffs for everyone to share as they browse the rest of the menu.

“Everything on the menu is good.” Harry assures your parents. “Mack says she gets her love of a good steak from you both. And I promise you won’t even have to break out your purse hot sauce.” He tells your mother with an amused smile.

Your mother scowls good naturedly and asks, “You had to rat me out, huh?”

But you just shrug. “Like mother like daughter, remember? I just had to promise never to bring purse hot sauce to business dinners.”

“She has been very good about it.” Harry compliments with a small chuckle. “Especially since most restaurants have a hot sauce they are willing to bring her.”

“It blew the tension off that meeting two weeks ago beautifully, though.” A moment you are particularly proud of, when the clients Harry was meeting with had insisted on choosing the restaurant and ended up unknowingly booking something they didn’t like. Playing a little Southern charm and asking the waiter for hot sauce had led to a lot of laughter and a much more comfortable meal.

“You saved the day with that.” He promises, smiling at you like you had landed the deal. The clients had asked about you at the next meeting, making Harry proud. He looks over at his mother. “She’s a better people person than I am.”

"Castillo men need extroverted women," his mother contends, like she is sharing universal wisdom with your parents. "That's why my Tony married me, and why our other son has such luck with his wife. I see it's true once again."

“Mama.” Harry rolls his eyes playfully but she just waves him off.

“You know you have no patience for some of the niceties.” She scolds him slightly. “It is why you have not settled down before now.”

"Oh, that's what it is?" A little smirk curls the corner of your mouth and you raise an eyebrow at Harry. Now? It asks. And the answering glint in his eye says, Now. "I thought it was because he was secretly waiting for his soulmate."

Harry smirks slightly when his mother shoots his father a confused look. “He doesn’t have a soulmate.” She says. “Not that soulmates are everything.” It’s a rush to assure you of that. “Peter and Charlotte aren’t soulmates and they are very happy.”

“They are very happy. And they’re fantastic together.” In fact, Harry’s brother and sister-in-law are a perfect example of how working through your problems and concerns as a couple with good communication means everything. “But…I’m afraid I have to tell you…it seems Harry does have a soulmate after all.”

Harry waits for a moment, watching as realization dawns on his parents’ faces and his mother’s eyes dart back and forth with a small gasp, reaching for his father’s hand as she covers her throat with her hand. “You—” she whispers, eyes starting to fill with happy tears. “Mijo—”

"We wanted to tell everyone all together," you explain, looking around at all four parents. Your own mother is in shock and your father is wiping tears from his eyes discreetly. "To celebrate quietly and not take away from Percy and Tam's joy this week."

“That is why you ordered champagne.” Antonio nods in approval and lifts his glass. “To our children and the future they share.” He murmurs softly, his words weighty with acceptance and love.

"Hear, hear!" Your father raises his glass in turn, his chest puffed out with pride and a whole lot of blustering that he'll save for later when he rumbles to his own soulmate about how glad he is that their little girl found her other half.

Harry smiles, turning towards you and leaning in to kiss you. He’s happy that both sets of parents are seemingly thrilled about this. “We are moving in together as soon as the wedding is past.” He tells them. “I didn’t want her to try to overwork herself right now during this week.”

"Of course not." Your mother agrees, glad to see that your boyfriend – soulmate! – is looking out for you. "We can help while we're here, if you want us to?"

"Mom, c'mon," you appreciate the thought, but you shake your head. "You're on vacation. I'm not going to ask you to help me pack up my place when you should be out exploring the city."

Your mother snorts and shakes her head. “Don’t you remember that we had our entire house unpacked in 3 hours when we moved to Fayetteville the second time?” She asks, smirking proudly at the fact.

She's right, as frustrating as that is, and you end up letting out an exasperated sigh that is at least fifty percent laughter. "If I have time to breathe this week, we'll do some packing together."

“Very well.” She knows you are stubborn, but she’s not going to argue more when you’ve practically given in. She winks at you playfully.

"Mijo," Antonio asks, sitting back in his seat as the waiter comes back to the table with your first course. "Have you told your brother?"

“That Mack is my soulmate?” Harry shakes his head. “We wanted to tell you first.” He admits as he looks over at you again and then back at his parents. “I didn’t want him to mention something offhand.”

"You're really keeping it a secret for now?" He asks, sounding impressed. It's not what most people would do – keeping their own joy quiet for the happiness of others. Even people they care about.

Harry glances towards you again, encourage by your soft smile. It’s been a conversation between the two of you several times. “The wedding party knows, but we have decided to save any formal announcements until after Percy and Tamara have left for their honeymoon.” He explains. “I’m honestly afraid that it might draw more reporters if it comes out and security is already stretched for the weekend.”

"Reporters?" Your mother asks, midway to lifting her glass to her mouth and frowning instead. "Why would there be more reporters?"

Harry tilts his head towards you, giving you the lead on this one. You had let him know that you hadn’t exactly told them how wealthy he is. Or that he’s been listed in Forbes several times.

"Harry is...all his family are...they're particularly well known in financial sectors," you explain tentatively. "Harry has been featured in Forbes and other magazines a fair few times. There was...a whole spread in Esquire after his brother got married, dubbing him the city's most eligible bachelor. So, we do have fairly good reason to think people will take notice."

“Eligible bachelor?” Your mother’s brows arch up quickly and she shoots you a confused look just as quickly. “I thought those titles were for the top one percent?” She asks. “I know he has to do well for himself to live in this city, but….”

Harry isn’t insulted, not at all. He actually likes the fact that your parents think that he’s not a trust fund or nepo baby. He chuckles softly as his parents clear their throats.

"Mom..." Stepping in gently, you can't help but smile just a touch. "The Castillos are in the top one percent."

“Oh god.” Her eyes widen and she pushes away her own husband’s hand slightly as she looks at you. “How badly did I just shove my whole foot in my mouth?”

Maria chuckles, but it's good natured as she waves off any concern your mother would have. "We are, as was said before, very hard workers. I'll happily take the compliment that we don't come off as horrible snobs as a first impression."

Slightly mollified, she shakes her head. “I am so sorry. You all have been so kind and I just—” she gives you a small smile. “I tend to think of everyone as a young private who might have to go get a payday loan because he was reckless with his pay.”

"Based on a true story," your father chuckles.

Harry chuckles, nodding. “I can imagine. From what I’ve heard, the priorities of the younger enlisted are fast cars and drinking until they can’t walk and then going for miles long runs while they are still drunk.”

"I've been telling stories.” You explain, when Harry's parents look curious. "About people I knew when I was younger. Always living on or near a base means I saw stuff like that over and over again growing up."

“There are some circles that are in New York that act just as foolish.” Maria assures you and your parents. “The number of times we have been offered cocaine during a client meeting would surprise you.”

"It definitely would," your mother agrees, eyes wide with surprise just before she takes a sip of champagne.

Harry chuckles and shrugs. “Better than the time father was offered a stripper.” He reminds her.

"True," Maria agrees, laughing even as her husband rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“That was not a client we took on.” Antonio snorts. “Even if it was twelve million dollars.”

"Sometimes even a good deal isn't worth it," your father agrees. "Even if it does become a good story later on."

******

Dinner is brought to the table and the champagne is switched for wine. Everyone enjoying their food and your mother is cooing over you and Harry sharing bites, something that has become an enjoyable habit. Talking and trading stories until dessert is brought up. “Now you can finally try the bananas foster.” Harry reminds you with a wink.

"It only took a month," you tease, picking up the hand that you're holding to place a kiss on his skin.

“You can rate it against that Alewife restaurant you are taking me to.” He smirks slightly and leans in to kiss your lips.

"Oo, are we planning a little trip?" Your mother perks up immediately.

“Mack wants to show me her hometown.” Harry nods. “Or as much of a hometown as a self proclaimed army brat has.” He corrects with a playful roll of his eyes before you can open your mouth to correct him. “And there’s a friend in Asheville she wants to visit?”

"Chloe." Your father chuckles, nodding knowingly.

"Her college roommate," your mother explains, bringing Harry's parents into the conversation again. "They've been friends since before they even started. They met at an incoming freshman event and never let go of each other."

“There is nothing wrong with that.” Harry promises. “It’s good to have lifelong friends.”

"I've got exactly two," you joke, but your mother scoffs.

"When she brings you down to Fayetteville, you ask those girls that run The Alewife how much they love her. The folks who run that place are like her extra aunties and uncles."

“She’s told me a lot about that place.” He tells her, perking up slightly. “The owner found her soulmate there?”

"Almost all of them did." Menu set aside, your father puts his arm around his own soulmate at the table and smiles. "Well, the two owners did, and the staff they had when the place opened. It was kind of a good luck charm for them."

“It’s always funny how that seems to work.” Harry muses. “I was convinced Percy was never going to introduce me to Mack and she turned out to be my very own soulmate.”

"They say that soulmates are connected by more threads than they know," Antonio hums thoughtfully. "Just like your mama and me."

“Why don’t you tell them how you met?” Harry asks with a fond smile. It was a story he had loved growing up.

His mother snorts and shakes her head even as she beams at Antonio. “No one wants to hear that old story.” She huffs. “We want to hear your story.”

"Ours is...much simpler," you admit with a small laugh, but you're beaming at Harry in exactly the same way. "I casually insulted him at Percy's engagement party."

“That sounds like you.” Your father chuckles with a small smile, although he’s not the least bit disappointed by that. “How on earth did you do that?”

"He was drinking top shelf whiskey and I was having my usual sweet little rum drink." It's just a silly thing, but it makes you grin now. "A guy as hot as this man sitting at the bar alone? I had to say something."

“Don’t tell me you insulted the man’s drink?” Your mother huffs, tsking at you playfully.

Pleased but smirking, you lift one shoulder and slip your hand into Harry's on the table. "It worked, didn't it? He said yes when I asked him out."

“Only after I made her admit that my whiskey was amazing.” He jokes, honestly amused by the meet-cute that had piqued his interest. “Plus it’s sexy when a woman asks a man out.”

"And you gave me grief about it but guess who always steals a sip of my rum and Coke when he thinks I'm not looking?"

He looks offended by your accusation, until he grins. “It’s because I swear the bartenders pour your drinks heavier.”

"Oh, they absolutely do." A fact which has you in near giggles because it seems to bewilder him.

“But why?” He demands. “We both order single pour drinks.”

“Because,” his father laughs, only teasing, “she’s much cuter than you are.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Thanks.” He snorts, but he’s grinning at you. “Unless they think that they are making it easier for me to take you home.” He jokes.

“Which is a moot point now that you’re going to be living together,” your own mother points out. If the whole damn table didn’t find this so amusing it might have gotten awkward, thankfully everyone is laughing.

“Yes, now that lovely building will live up to its full rental potential.” Harry’s mother tosses out, and Harry quickly changes the subject. “Everyone ready for dessert?” He asks quickly, motioning for the waiter. “I think I have room.”

“Sure,” your parents agree, breezing past the odd comment without a second thought, but your eyebrows knit and furrow together even as you nod. It seems weird that Harry would have told his parents your rental was rent controlled, but whatever. They’re close. You’re not going to pry when dinner has been so nice.

Harry relaxes slightly, happy that no questions were brought up and everyone turns to the dessert menu. He leans over the one you are looking at. “Bananas Foster, right?” He asks with a smile. “And I’ll let you have a bite of my cheesecake.”

When you tilt your head, you press a kiss to his cheek and tell yourself to smile despite the knot in your stomach. You’re reading too much into a random comment. Everything is fine. “Sure babe,” you agree easily. “That sounds perfect.”

Dessert ordered, Harry is happy that his parents and yours are trading stories, laughing together over shared views of child rearing and he realizes one day that this could possibly be you and him with your future child’s in laws. It makes him reach for your hand again and he strokes his thumb over your bare ring finger. “When do you want to go to North Carolina?” He asks you softly. “The weekend after the wedding?” He knows your company gives you a few days after a big event and this is very big event. “I could take the week if you want.”

“An entire week?” It’s like that’s all you need to make the worries melt away, and your forehead smooths instantly when up him in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He flashes you a smile and nods. “My brother can handle the accounts. I think we should have plenty of time to visit.”

“A week is a big visit.” The fact that he would dedicate so much time to who you are and where you come from? You know how busy he is and you’ve seen how hard he works. It’s a big fucking deal for him to take so much time out of work for you. Especially right after taking days for Percy’s bachelor party.

“Do you not want to?” Harry asks. “We can go for however long you want, or if you want me to leave early and give you some time with your friend by yourself?” He offers.

“No, babe. That’s not what I meant.” You snuggle closer into his side and shake your head. “I meant I’m flattered you would spend so much time on me. On…seeing where I come from.”

“Baby….” Harry leans in and kisses the top of your head. A display that makes his mother smile as she watches from across the table. “You are the woman I love. I want to get to know everything about you.”

"I love you, too." It warms through your chest and out to your limbs, settling in your blood and in your bones like absolute truth. You really are so fucking lucky to have found him. "And we're going to learn everything about each other."

“Well, I would hope so.” He snorts playfully. “Considering we are going to be together for the rest of our lives.”

"I love," you hum happily, pressing your lips to his. "How certain of that you are."

“You don’t think we will be?” He asks, arching a brow up slightly.

"Of course we will be." At least, you hope that you will be, but his certainty makes your heart feel like it's swollen to twice its regular size. "I just like hearing you say it."

******

“Have you given any thought into your future?” The question is almost laughably predictable but it is surprising that it’s coming from his father. Drink in hand as he stands with him off to the side of the bar, you and his mother in the kitchen talking in low whispers. The older man gives him a lopsided smile as Harry snorts. “We aren’t getting any younger, mijo.” He reminds him. “We want to enjoy grandchildren while we can.”

Harry considers that and takes a sip of the rum and coke he had just made you. “Mama put you up to this, didn’t she?” He demands, amused by the fact that he was already being prodded about kids.

"Only a little." Antonio shrugs, but he still laughs anyway. It's another family dinner night, as everyone had gotten along so well the night before at Keen's that you and Harry had decided to invite his parents over for a homecooked meal at the penthouse. It's old school Southern cooking tonight instead of high-end steaks and seafood, and the apartment already smells amazing.

“I’ve got to get her moved in first.” Harry points out. “But I was thinking about asking her to marry me when we’re in North Carolina.” He admits quietly, glancing at you and his mother in the kitchen to make sure you haven’t suddenly developed supersonic hearing. He would like for it to be a surprise, even if you know it’s the end game for him.

"I thought you might say that." His father nods and takes a sip of his Scotch.

“That predictable?” Harry asks, frowning slightly.

The older man laughs. "Only because I know you, mijo," he assures his son. "I've never seen you look any a woman the way you look at her."

“She’s—” he doesn’t know how to describe it. “Even before we knew we were soulmates, I needed to be around her. Needed to keep her safe. Help her however I could.” He sighs softly. “Is that what you felt for mama? Still feel, actually?”

"Every day." He nods, taking another sip, and leans against the bookshelf beside his elbow. "She's my motivation and my happiness. She gave me everything. Including you and your brother."

“Mack does want kids.” He promises. “I’m not sure if she’s wanting them right away, but we will talk about that soon.”

"I brought something." Antonio clears his throat as if he's shifting the lump in his throat out of the way, and he reaches into his pocket. He comes out again with a jewelry box and offers it to his son. "Your grandparents' wedding bands. Your mother and I...we talked it over last night and...we thought you might want to have them now. So that you can pick out an engagement ring that will match her band." He clears that lump again, it's come back so fast. "If you want them, I mean. Don't feel obligated."

Shocked, Harry takes the small box from his father. “I— I don’t know what to say.” He admits, throat dry and his heart bursting at the sentimentality behind the gesture. “Thank you.”

"She seems like the kind of girl who appreciates family history." Antonio points out, his voice low as he claps his younger son on the shoulder. "I think your abuela would have loved her."

At a loss for anything else to express his real gratitude, Harry’s hand closes around the little box and he can really only smile at his father. “Thank you.”

“We’re glad you’re happy, mijo.” Antonio tells his son honestly.

“I honestly never expected it.” He admits quietly, running his finger over the box and flipping it open to look at the very ornate scrolls etched into the simple white gold. His grandparents hadn’t been rich, but they had been solidly in love and had worked tirelessly for their family. It’s why his own parents were so grounded after building wealth. Hopefully it will be something he can pass on to his own children.

“That’s when it is the sweetest,” his father says, squeezing his shoulder gently with one broad hand. “And you deserve to be happy when you settle down. No more almost. Just the real thing.”

Even though he’s been an adult longer than he ever was a child, Harry feels like he’s getting wisdom from parent to child. As if he was a teenager, getting lessons on being a man. He doesn’t mind it. “It’s made me realize how wrong I was before. About what I needed in a relationship.”

“You’re going to keep being wrong for your entire life,” Antonio chuckles. A heart, deep sound. “Take the lessons as they come, and learn them well. You’ve grown into a good man and she’s a damn good woman. You two can do whatever you set your minds to.”

“She’s a little self conscious.” Harry admits, knowing that you will be a little upset that he brings this up, but he knows his father will be discreet and kind. “Since she’s not stick thin like most of our circle.” He snorts slightly, making his own view on that perfectly clear. He loves you just as you are.

His father nods, but ultimately shrugs one shoulder as he looks up at his son. Having never had the same surgery that their boys did, both Antonio and Maria are significantly shorter than Peter and Harry. He knows firsthand about watching loved ones be self-conscious about something physical. “She dresses well and she’s very beautiful as she is. Either she will be bolstered with compliments from her soulmate and forget to care because you dote on her so much, or she will choose to take action to change this. Only she can make the decision. Your job is only to love her no matter what the decision is.”

“I do.” Harry nods. “I don’t care if she stays the size she is now or if that changes later on.” He tells his dad. “All I care about is if she is happy and healthy.”

“Good.” Having had no fear that his son would have the respectable answer, Antonio nods and takes a sip from his glass. “Because that woman adores you. It’s clear as day every time she looks at you or even hears your name. So just keep loving each other. Everything else will work out in time.”

“But there is something that I want to talk with you about professionally.” Harry admits after another sip. He will end up having to make you another, although you already have one, so it’s not like he’s depriving you of a drink.

“Oh?” His father tilts his head, subtly checking his watch. He and Maria had arrived on the early side and your parents should be here soon from their day of museums. “And what’s that?”

“Since being with Mack….” Harry chooses his words carefully. “I have become aware of a decide lack of fashion that is available for a fuller figured woman.” He tells his father. “She’s either having to have everything drastically tailored and customized or the options are just hideous.”

“She does well with the options she has,” his father observes. It’s just a statement of fact, not a judgement, but he nods. “Do you have an idea of something to do about that?” Antonio asks.

“Preliminarily, research indicates the fashion world is a profitably market.” Harry murmurs softly. “Investing in a design house that could cater to a market that has limited options could be good.”

"Do you have an investment in mind?" He must, if he's done the research. But Antonio's knowledge of fashion extends only to his own preferences and the things his wife mentions, so it is limited at best.

“Tamara mentioned that her friend has been looking into expanding her own clothing line.” That had been mentioned in passing, but he had sent her an email asking a few questions since it was a couple he was going to be meeting at the wedding festivities.

"So you're looking at investing on a ground level." Antonio nods, understanding that this is a consultation on a potential risk, rather than an assured reward. "A casual meeting might be best for feeling out the situation if you can, but it does sound like a niche that merits expansion. Or, at least, exploration of an expansion."

He feels a little better about the idea, given his father’s tentative approval. His mother might have been the powerhouse behind their private equities firm, but his father is equally as talented with a good nose for potential. “I was hoping to have a conversation at the reception.” He admits. “But I wanted to make sure that if I felt it necessary, I could offer an investment percentage.”

"You've identified good investments in the past, Harry," his father reminds him. "We trust you to do the research. The legwork. If you want to branch out into fashion?" He chuckles quietly and shrugs. "It's unexpected, but not radical. Fashion makes hefty money."

“Thanks.” He smiles and reaches out to touch his father’s shoulder. “This is more of a personal interest, I’m aware, but I think it could be good for everyone.”

The sound of a doorbell – the buzzer from downstairs – cuts off their conversation, and his father nods again. "Go let your in-laws up, mijo. I'll check on our ladies."

Harry had sent his car for your parents again, making it easier for them and nods as he walks to the door to let them in. They should be off the elevator just as soon as he gets to the door if he times it right.

"Hi honey!" Your mother is the first off the elevator, already reaching to give Harry a hug the moment she sees him. Your soulmate is good as gold in her books, after a wonderful dinner with him and his parents and how obvious it is to absolutely everyone that he's crazy about you. That's all she wants for you. A partner who loves you as entirely as you love them, and is going to be your partner. Harry is definitely that.

“Good to see you again.” He means that, returning her hug with the same warmth and pulling away only to shake your father’s hand. “Did you enjoy sightseeing today?”

"You were right about giving ourselves extra time," Tom commends. He has one hand on his wife's back as they enter, with shopping bags in his other hand. "The ferry was beautiful, though. And the Statue of Liberty? Stunning up close like that."

He smiles. “She’s a gem.” He offers with a tilt of his head. “First time I went to see her up close was with Mack.” He admits.

"You never went before that?" Julia asks, looking around at the living room of the penthouse apartment as he welcomes them inside.

“The first field trip they had, I had chicken pox.” Harry chuckles. “The next time it was a broken leg.” He shakes his head. “It had become a bit of a running joke that somehow every time there were plans to visit it, I would be sick or hurt.”

"But not this time?" Tom nods approvingly. "I'm glad she's got you out there enjoying your city. It's a hell of a place."

“Yes it is.” He can firmly agree with that. “Let me take your bags.” He offers.

"We can just tuck them out of the way for the time being," Julia offers, but it isn't as if there is a shortage of space in the enormous apartment.

“The closet right here is available.” He opens a tall door, revealing the cedar lined coat closet.

"Thank you, honey." She smiles appreciatively, leaving her purse with the museum shop bags from the Ellis Island museum and the Morgan Library. There's a little bakery bag for them to take back to the hotel later, but she extracts a pastry box from that bag with a smile. "We brought dessert. I hope you kids didn't have anything in mind."

He tuts slightly, giving your mother a pointed look. “Do you really think that Mack didn’t think about dessert?” He asks with a smirk.

"I know, I know," she laughs, following when Harry motions toward the next room. "But hopefully it will keep. This looked too good to pass up."

“I’m sure she will have no issue.” He promises as he guides you further into the apartment. “Can I get you both a drink?”

“Baby?” Your voice comes through from the kitchen, along with the sound of drifting laughter from his mother. “Was that my parents?”

“Yes it was.” He walks towards the kitchen and smiles when he sees you. “She brought dessert.”

"Mama, what did I say?" You scold, a touch of the Southern girl coming out in you when you appear in the kitchen door to greet your parents.

"You said 'just bring yourselves'," she recites, giving you a hug despite her obvious disregard of the instructions.

"We found Magnolia Bakery," your father tells you with an air of importance. "We couldn't just pass by."

Harry laughs at the comment, taking the box from your mother’s hand as he comes around the counter. “Interesting.”

"Oh my god," you light up, making a beeline for the bakery box as soon as you've hugged them both. "Did you bring banana pudding?"

Your mother nods just as eagerly, beaming a victorious smile. "Banana pudding and cupcakes."

“I think you might have a slight obsession with bananas.” Harry teases you easily. “I’m beginning to notice a trend.”

"Says the man who will eat anything an apple has even floated near," you tease right back. After giving your mother one more squeeze, you move to the refrigerator to retrieve drinks for them. "How were your museum stops today? What's on the docket for tomorrow? Tell me everything."

Harry pours your father a whiskey while your mom takes the glass of Chardonnay you had offered, listening as your parents and his crowd around the island.

Tomorrow they're spending the whole day at the Met, wanting to see the world famous art museum before the wedding so they can appreciate the differences and see as much of the collection as possible. Today they had an adventure on the ferry and at Ellis Island. They're happy to chatter about it while you finish dressing the enormous bowl of Caesar salad that you made and check on the pizzas you have in Harry's double oven – one pepperoni and green pepper, the other sausage and mushrooms. Everything is perfect for tonight.

Sitting down to dinner on plates that are far fancier than the simple, homey meal of pizza and salad, everyone has a familiar ease of comfort. Laughing and sharing more stories and jokes as everyone becomes better acquainted. It shows Harry just how much family means to you.

Your phone buzzes a few times over the course of the meal, prompting you to apologize, but you return every wedding-week-business-text with speed and professionalism. Dinner is delicious, all the parents are getting along, and even with the craziness of the weekend ahead, you manage to relax and have fun. It's a perfect night, as far as you're concerned.

His parents are the first ones to leave, they have early meetings in the morning and reluctantly say goodbye.

"Let me help you clean up," your mother says, but it's in the midst of a conversation about all the best things to see at the Met when they go to the museum tomorrow, and so you easily agree. Describing the way you were moved to tears the first time you stood in front of Madame X and the portrait of Mrs. Hugh Hammersley in her yards and yards of red velvet practically has you choked up all over again.

Harry touches your father’s arm gently and motions towards the hallway that leads to his office. “Would you mind having a word with me in private?” He asks quietly.

Tom only nods, aware of the conversation that is likely going to happen, and only glances back at his wife and daughter for a moment before following. “Tour sounds nice,” he comments offhandedly, in case anyone was listening.

He’s nervous even though he knows that there’s a very slim chance that he would deny Harry. He slips out of the kitchen and down the hall, his speech rolling over in his head again and he guides your father to the spacious home office and study that you both have been using to work from home.

“You have a beautiful place here,” Tom offers, thinking that a compliment might ease the younger man’s anxieties. “Plenty enough space for two.”

“Thank you.” He smiles as he looks around the office. “There is room to grow, if she wants.” He offers as an opening line.

“You mean to tell me this place had another floor?” He whistles, impressed. “She…does want to. Or at least she always said she wanted that. I admit it’s been a few years since we talked about it.”

“She said that she wanted children.” He nods as he looks towards the door and then gestures for your father to sit. “I’m sure you can guess why I asked to speak with you.”

“I should think so.” But he’s smiling as he sits, despite the formality. He’s spent his life with military formality, so a businessman is not altogether that different. “But by that same token, I’m sure you’ve thought about what you’ll say. Go on, son.”

“First. I want to tell you that I am completely in love with your daughter.” Harry confesses. “Although I know that should be obvious, I hope.”

“It is,” Tom confirms, barely containing a good-natured chuckle. “It is also good to hear you say it so enthusiastically.”

Harry shoots the other man a small smile. “Mack loves her family completely. A sentiment that I understand and I feel like the I would be wrong if I didn’t ask you for your blessing.” He leans in slightly. “I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making your daughter happy. Giving her anything and everything she wants.” He knows that material things doesn’t matter, but he wants Tom to know that he could give you the world. “I want to marry your daughter, sir.”

"I'm glad you said blessing and not permission," your father tells him after a moment of pause. "She's my only child and she's headstrong like both of her parents, which means none of us would take kindly to the idea that she is property." He smiles, leaning forward in his chair. "I'm sure she'll let us know when you're planning on coming through town, but...if you're planning on doing this soon, I hope you'll let us throw you an engagement party?"

“I think that would be wonderful.” Harry smiles. “Although, I insist that we will cover the wedding.” He tells Tom with a chuckle. “I know a girl who does an amazing job planning.”

"She's got big dreams. Some for herself. Some for her family. Julia and I will be damned pleased to see even half of them come true, and I know you'll help her with that."

“If it’s in my reach, she’ll have it.” Harry assures him, knowing that he doesn’t have a lot of dreams when he met you, but the ones he secretly held have already come true.

"Good." He stands from his chair, reaching over to Harry with his hand outreached. "If there is anything we can do to help will you promise to let us know?"

“Absolutely.” He pauses for a moment and then nods. “I’ll be in touch about my plans.” He tells your father. “I was thinking about proposing at Biltmore, but now I’m thinking it might be while we are visiting you? There at the party?”

"Oh, no." Tom smiles -- beams, really. "Biltmore is perfect. Persuade her to take you there first, and we'll have a surprise engagement party waiting when you get to Fayetteville." Again, he chuckles, pleased and perhaps overly indulgent for the happiness of his only child. "Surprise to her, anyway."

“That’s what matters.” Harry chuckles. “I’ll be meeting people for the first time, so it will be a surprise in a sense for me.” He tilts his head. “Maybe the party could be at that Alewife restaurant? Do they have party spaces?”

“They absolutely do.” The business had expanded over the years, including the use of the land behind the main building as an outdoor event space. You had worked a hell of a lot of parties out there as a teen. “That’s perfect, actually. I’ll give them a call tomorrow and start to set things up. They’ll be thrilled to host for you two. They sort of…adopted her over the years.”

“Then that would be where I know she would want to have it.” Harry agrees. “I can have my parents and brother fly down and I know my parents will want a party here in New York.” He shrugs, knowing it will be more of a societal affair. “We will have to have you back for that as well.”

“Just let us know when.” The two men shake hands with a newfound warmth, and Tom claps Harry on the shoulder while they still stand in his office. “I won’t tell Julia until after we’ve left. She won’t be able to keep in her excitement.”

He chuckles. “Honestly, that’s the only reason I didn’t ask you both.”

******

When you finally crawl into bed that night, under Harry's favourite silk sheets, you tuck yourself straight into his arms and sigh happily and feel the ache in your back start to ease. It's only Wednesday and the week is already crazy, but every second of it is worth it.

“Our parents are getting along well.” Honestly, he couldn’t ask for a better outcome. His father had invited your mother and father to lunch, if they had time tomorrow. Obviously wanting to talk about their kids without them present. Harry had chuckled but hadn’t protested. He knows you might forget to eat unless he has something delivered.

"I'm both pleased and a little bit surprised," you admit, snuggling into his chest in your oversized t-shirt. "Not because I didn't think they'd get along, but because they've taken to each other so quickly."

His hand slides down, over the curve of your ass and up the back of your shirt, enjoying the warm softness of your skin. He loves that you enjoy laying on him, being as close as possible. He doesn’t hug a pillow anymore, doesn’t turn away from you in sleep. You comfort him. “I think they will end up being good friends.” He predicts. “Which is good for the future.”

"Mmhmm." It's just a low hum, but you press a kiss to his chest and look up at him. "You're been talking about the future a lot lately."

“Is that okay?” He asks softly, lifting a brow. “Talking about the future?”

“At the risk of sounding giddily domestic?” You press a kiss to his lips. “I love it.”

“Good.” He is relieved and he smiles at you. “I want to plan things with you.” He admits. “Look forward to our life together.”

“So do I.” And the fact that this brilliant, stunning, deeply caring man wants to spend his life with you would knock your socks right the fuck off if you were wearing any. “I think we’re pretty fucking fantastic together, if I do say so myself.”

Harry hums softly. “Do you want to rest Sunday and Monday and fly out Tuesday?” He asks. “I was thinking about using the jet instead of flying commercially. So we can leave whenever you want.”

“That’s awfully posh of you,” you tease, but your cheek is warm when he cups it with his overlarge hand. “The flight isn’t that long when you fly direct. If we left after breakfast, we could be in Fayetteville by lunch.”

“Anytime you want.” He nods seriously. “That way we aren’t working around any schedule and you can sleep in.”

“Sleep in?” Pretending to be shock by the suggestion, you clutch a set of imaginary pearls — your real ones are safely in your jewelry box. “This from the man who gets up at five every morning?”

He chuckles. “I never said I would sleep in.” He reminds you. He gets up at five to run on his treadmill while watching the news and honestly probably would while on vacation.

“We’re not staying at a hotel with a gym,” you insist, practically reading his mind. “You’re going to relax.”

He huffs, throwing you a sour look that is purely for show. “That’s not fair.” He groans. “How am I supposed to get in my cardio?”

“Long walks. Lots of stairs when we visit Biltmore.” When you waggle your eyebrows at him, he laughs. “Fucking your soulmate.”

“That’s not counted in my work outs.” He smirks back at you. “That’s my reward for working out that morning.”

“Awwe.” The two of you dissolve into a moment of laughter, exchanging little kisses and basking in the contentedness of the moment. “Fiiiiiine,” you hum finally, rolling your eyes playfully. “But Biltmore is a lot of walking.”

“That’s okay.” He promises. “Just means my legs will be even sexier by the time we get home.”

“Impossible.” The grin on your face grows all over again. “If you get any sexier I may need a fainting couch.”

“I’m sure we can find one of those.” He teases. “It is a historic house, right?”

“I think they frown on people literally fainting on the museum pieces,” you laugh.

“That’s true.” He snorts. “We will just have to find you a well-made replica.”

“And a big old mansion to put it in,” you snort right along with him and roll your eyes.

“They’ve torn down a lot of the New York mansions, sadly.” Harry huffs. “I wish they hadn’t.”

"New York doesn't wait for anyone." That's something you began observing right off the bat about this enormous city you now call home. "Especially not people who take up valuable real estate."

“True.” He smirks slightly. “They just moved the mansions to the Hamptons.”

"Sure, sure." With your face buried in his chest, you don't see the gleam in his eyes. "The Hamptons. Where like...Ina Garten lives."

“Her garden parties are amazing.” He agrees, sighing softly. “She makes these little shrimp things. I could eat a plate full.”

"What the fuck?" You jolt up with wide eyes, staring at him. "You know the Barefoot Contessa?"

Harry shuffles slightly, coming up to his elbow. “Uhhhh...” he frowns as he wonders if you’re upset about that. “She’s a neighbor?” It’s almost a question, but not really.

"She's a neighbor?" The laugh you let out is practically a bark as you stare at him, bewilderment mixing with amusement. "I didn't even know you had another house!"

“Technically it’s not mine.” He clarifies. “At least is not just mine. It’s the family summer house. My parents bought it and put it in a trust for the future generations of Castillo’s.” He smirks. “We spend a few weeks there every summer. Sometimes have Christmas there to get out of the city.”

"How did I end up with such a bougie soulmate?" It's just teasing, but you're honestly impressed. For an Army Brat with humble beginnings, this kind of thing is beyond your wildest dreams to actually be around.

“Luck of the universe’s draw.” He teases, leaning in and kissing your lips. “My parents were planning for grandchildren since we were old enough to date.”

"I think I did more planning than my parents did," you admit, but don't mind it so much anymore. The boys weren't exactly banging down the door for you back then.

“I think your parents just wanted you to follow your own path.” Harry reaches out and strokes your side to coax you back into his arms.

"Maybe." His touch is enough. It's always enough. You settle back into his arms with ease and snuggle back into his chest, placing another kiss here. "They really like you, ya know."

“I hope so.” He tilts his head forward and rests his chin against the top of your head. “Because I’m gonna be in their lives for a long time.”

TSoMS: @inept-the-magnificent @aomi-recs @noisynightmarepoetry @beezusvreeland @vikiii07 @unholyhuntress @readingiskeepingmegoing @anoverwhelmingdin

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wardenparker · 9 days ago

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so the thing about my family is that we have two ancestors on my dad’s side who were buried in france, where I currently live. one died in the spanish civil war, and one died prior doing…we don’t know what. but he somehow managed to get buried in père lachaise.

so anyhow, my gran sends me a message like “pls put flowers on ur uncle samuel’s grave because he’s gone over a century with none and it will make the ghost mad if he hasn’t already” because my family spends time in europe but never long enough to go all the way to père lachaise and give ya boy samuel jr. his death rites. so im like “ok gran I can do that” bc im a good grandson and you do not fuck with gran she doesn’t DESERVE THAT

i figure out which plot he’s on and ask someone specifically where you can find uncle samuel jr. and they tell me where and so I arrive at the junction and.

HE GONE.

WHERE DID YOU GO UNCLE SAMUEL.

*celine dion’s smash hit “my heart will go on” playing in the distance*

in other words either someone stole my entire great great uncle samuel or he has risen again, ready to party in paris for all of eternity.

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wardenparker · 9 days ago

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1925 The Home for Friendless Babies, located at 2343 Woodbine Avenue, Knoxville, Tennessee. FB.

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wardenparker · 9 days ago

Photo

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wardenparker · 12 days ago

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REMEMBER SKIP-IT FROM THE 90’S

#This is everything I ever wanted

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wardenparker · 15 days ago

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The Secret of My Success, ch 7

Harry Castillo x plus size reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: *Reader is nicknamed Mack* (Continuous warnings for: food/alcohol consumption, tobacco smoking.) Fluff-ity fluffy fluff, revelations, so much love. Summary: Coming back from Percy and Tamara's respective bachelor and bachelorette weekends means it is officially wedding week! But first, there is a question that needs to be laid to rest for good. Notes: Sorry for the delay from last week. Life happens, as we all know, and it is frequently a bitch. Please enjoy!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6

Harry blows out a breathe and sighs heavily as the plane lands, bringing him back to the bustle and chaos of the city. Drumming his fingers in the comfort of first class hadn’t helped ease his nerves at all. He doesn’t know how he’s going to tell you about this. Reaching up and rubbing the back of his ear and wonders again if he should get a Band-Aid to cover it up.

When he turns his phone on he has a text from you, ready and waiting like he expected. Your flight from Las Vegas landed a half hour ago and you had promised to wait for him in Arrivals so you could go home together.

Hey babe! I grabbed a coffee because flying makes me sleepy. Waiting for you at baggage claim. Missed you so much.

“Oh shit.” Harry almost groans, happy to see you but wishing you had gone back to the apartment. Percy tosses him a concerned look but he doesn’t say anything. He’s already been asked to not say anything to Tamara until Harry can talk to you.

"She here?" Percy asks needlessly. He and Tamara are back in New York for the week of the wedding and he stretches out in his seat beside Harry.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “That conservation is going to happen sooner than I had hoped.” He admits.

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing?" Percy offers, carefully masking his tone. An hour and a half after Harry's very first soulmate mark had appeared -- well into the night when Percy was back in his own hotel room alone -- he'd experienced that same blinding flash of pain that accompanied a tattoo from his soulmate appearing on his skin. Having felt it before, it wasn't so much of a shock to him this time. But it was something to get excited about -- there was no way it was a coincidence that a little bird appeared on his hip the same night a little bird appeared behind Harry's ear.

Harry rolls his eyes over towards his friend. His face clearly expressing his true feelings. “It’s a great thing.” Percy frowns and he sighs. “Are you sure you think that she could-?” He wants to believe it, but it’s so hard to.

"Yes." Percy reiterated for the thousandth time. "I do. I absolutely do think that Mack is your soulmate. But I know you need solid proof, not just my belief."

“I’ve been an ass on this trip, haven’t I?” Harry asks with a wince.

"You've been worried." Which isn't an answer, but Percy waves it off. They're going to be able to deplane in a second and he wants Harry feeling upbeat. "And I don't begrudge you that. But Harry," he points a finger at his best friend without hesitation. "You love her. Regardless of anything else. You asked her to move in with you and you were talking about rings. That matters more."

“You’re right.” He’s not completely convinced but he doesn’t want to pile more onto Percy. Knowing that only talking to you will make him feel better or confirm his worst fear.

"Go on." Percy encourages, slapping his friend's arm in a sort of comradery before he gets up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Harry nods, knowing that his friend is eager to get to his own soulmate.

They part, headed separate ways, leaving Harry to making his way through to baggage claim alone. You're off to the side, leaning against a pillar with coffee cup in hand, and the brightest smile in the world breaks out over your face when you see him. The beating of your heart has hit double time, wondering if your gamble worked or if you've just made things more complicated forever.

Despite the worry, Harry immediately smiles when he sees you, his heart pounding. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the next few minutes but he knows that he loves you. He doesn’t go to the conveyor that will spit out his luggage, instead he moves over to you, wrapping his arm around you and dragging you in for one last kiss that he knows is purely between you.

It's only been a few days, but it's actually the longest you've been apart since you start seeing Harry and this kiss is everything you need it to be. It's warm and welcoming and comforting and full of love. As perfect as he is. "Hey gorgeous," you murmur when you pull away, opening your eyes to beam at him.

“Hey.” He leans in against and nudges his nose against yours. “Missed you.” He admits softly.

"I missed you too, baby." A kiss for the tip of his nose and another kiss for his lips, and you remind yourself for the eight hundredth time today to play it cool. To not just jump in and show him your ear. To hope that he will come to you first.

“I—” He couldn’t imagine a less desirable place to have this conversation than the airport baggage claim so he falters. “How was your trip?” He asks, taking your hand to guide you over to collect his bag.

"It was great." Your hand fits in his easily and you lean into his side as you roll your suitcase behind you. "We had an absolute blast. How was your beach getaway?"

“It was good.” He might have gotten inside his own head too much, but hopefully he hadn’t ruined everything. “Relaxing for everyone.”

"You actually relaxed?" You tease, raising a dubious eyebrow at him.

“No.” He admits with a slight huff. “But I didn’t work.”

"That counts for something." You can't quite claim the same, but you pick up his hand and press a kiss to the back of it. "How does spending the rest of the night naked in bed sound to you, because I am very much in favor of reuniting as many times as we like."

“That sounds perfect.” Plus, he can kiss all over your body and touch you. He’s missed the touch of you.

“Take out and sex is the perfect night.” And ten million kisses before then, if it’ll you have it your way.

His bag comes around the bend on the conveyor and he can put off saying that you need to have a talk. Preferring to say something in the privacy of the car.

“So you had fun?” He seems too tense for a man who was just on vacation, but with your bags — and each other — in hand, you tip your head up to look at him on your way out to meet his driver on the curb.

“It was fun.” He looks over and shoots you a lopsided grin. “I’m not actually much of a beach person.” He admits. “Too much sand everywhere for me.”

“Okay, Anakin,” you joke, snorting at your own reference. “So what will you pick when it’s your turn?”

“Bachelor party?” He frowns slightly. “I think a mountain retreat? Ski lodge type place. Poker and whiskey.”

“Alps? Or would you stay domestic and do Aspen?” Skiing makes sense for him from everything you know about him. Though you met in summer, Harry is far more of a fall and winter kind of guy.

“Domestic.” He snorts. “The slopes upstate are better and it’s not nearly the headache Aspen is.”

“Not what I expected, but okay,” you nudge him playfully. “You’re so New York you don’t even want to leave the state?”

“There’s this little place my parents would take us too, back before they had money.” Harry smiles as he thinks about it. “Well, before they had money. It was so quaint and charming.”

“You miss it.” His tone doesn’t turn wistful over too many things, and you like the way it makes his smile tug a little tighter. Like he’s surprised to think of something so nice.

“Simpler times.” He chuckles. “Peter and I loved the hot chocolate and sitting by the fires when it was snowing outside.”

"It sounds sweet." Out on the curb, you could be looking out for Stanley and the car, but you're much more focused on Harry. "Was it a hotel? Or like a cabin that you rented?"

“Some kind of resort?” The details are a little fuzzy. “There was a main lodge of course, but we had cabins that we slept in.”

Making the mental note for later on to ask his mother about it, you lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and smile. "It sounds nice. We should remember it when the winter rolls around."

“I’d have to ask my mom for the name of it.” He agrees, lifting his head up when he sees his car pull to the curb. “There is the car.”

"Hi Stan." His driver gets a quick hug from you before he picks up your bag to settle in the back of the car, and Harry holds the door open for you to slide inside.

Harry climbs into the car and closes the door behind him. Nervously waiting as Stnaley closes the trunk and rounds the car to get behind the wheel.

"What kind of take out do you want?" You sink into Harry's side, but when he doesn't immediately open his arm to welcome you against him, you frown and sit up again. "Babe?"

“We need to talk.” Harry murmurs softly.

"That sounds..." Bad. It sounds bad. You swallow nervously and find your throat has run dry all in an instant. "...Serious."

“It is.” Harry shifts in his seat, the doom and gloom of this fading when he sees the worry blossom in your eyes. He reaches for your hand. “First, I need you to know that I love you.”

"I love you, too." Both of your hands close around his tightly. "Which is why I really dislike the tone that sounds like you're about to dump me."

“What?” He frowns and shakes his head. “No, no.” He insists. “I’m not going to dump you.” Everything that Percy has said clicks. “I don’t care if my soulmate showed up tonight, I’m not leaving you.”

"Okay," you hold his hand a little tighter anyway. "Then why the doom and gloom, babe? What's going on?"

He thought you might catch it. That he wouldn’t have to say it out loud, but you are just staring at him in confusion. “I— Mack— a mark showed up on me.” He whispers earnestly. “A soulmate mark.”

"Oh." Your stomach flips and you have to fight hard to contain your excitement, forcing yourself both not to jump the gun and not to immediately look at his ear. If he got your tattoo on Saturday night, you're about to find out. "I mean...that's not awful, right? You never thought you had one before so it's an adjustment. But...if you don't want to break up with me then...does it really matter?"

“No…” You’re taking it better than he thought you would and that makes him relax. “I guess it doesn’t.” He huffs slightly, slouching back against the leather of the back seat.

"Is it...interesting, at least?" If you don't press, you're never going to know. And you have to know. That was the whole goddamn point of getting the tattoo in the first place.

“It’s a tattoo.” He motions to his ear. “You can look if you want.” He knows you have to be curious and you will be the one looking at it from now on. His hair mostly covers it, but you might just catch a glimpse every now and again.

It's shocking that he can't hear your heart hammering in your chest when he points to his right ear, and you're certain your eyes are bugging out of your head like an idiot. "Wait," you murmur, clearing your throat amidst the nerves that have you all but shaking. "Is it...like this?" You move your own hair instead, turning your head for him to see behind your ear.

He had turned his head so you could see the little mark behind his ear, looking away from you. When you had said “wait” he had almost thought you didn’t want to see it. Didn’t want to confirm another woman’s mark on his body. “Like this?” Confused, his head twists back around to find you pulling your ear back slightly to reveal a little tattoo of birds. “Oh my God.”

Two little swallows in flight have their wings spread behind your right ear, and the rest of you is caught with tears building behind your eyes and your breath shores up in your chest waiting to find out if a storm is coming. You can’t do anything but stay frozen as Harry’s fingers come up to touch the tender skin there, making you wince a little. “It’s…still fresh…” You murmur quietly, needing him to speak.

“It’s— you—” He’s lost for words. Mind racing and a hundred different emotions are washing over him, but his tongue is tied and he pulls his fingers away and strokes the skin around it, feeling the raised skin of the tattoo.

“I hope that’s…a good thing?” He sounds like he can barely breathe and you’re definitely dripping tears down your cheeks, but your head is turned so you can’t actually see the expression on his face.

“I hoped but, I—” he chokes up slightly. “I can’t believe this.” His hand cups your cheek and he turns your head towards him. “We’re—”

“We’re soulmates, baby.” Your voice is so soft it’s barely more than a whisper, but when you lean in and touch your nose to his, you’re beaming so brightly the sun might as well not exist. “I knew it,” you gasp out in utter joy.

It would embarrass him if anyone ever knew. Beyond close friends and possibly his mother, but tears pool in his eyes and start to roll down his cheeks. “Soulmates.” It’s a crushing relief to know that he has one. That the universe didn’t overlook him, didn’t think he was unworthy. Now knowing why he seemed so unlucky in love. No one was you.

“Baby.” Wiping his tears away on the pads of your thumbs, you lean into Harry as the car takes off through traffic and kiss each damp track on his cheeks. “I love you so much. I would have chosen you if I could.”

“We didn’t know we were soulmates.” He frowns slightly as he takes your hand. “You have no scars.”

“I have your scars.” You place another set of kisses on his cheeks and then his lips. “And now you have my tattoo.”

“Why don’t you have any scars?” He hadn’t asked before, honestly happy that beyond the surgical scars - which he now knows were his own - you don’t have marks of someone else.

“I honestly don’t know.” Now that you’ve both stopped crying for the time being, you’re beaming as you smile at each other. “I’ve gotten hurt plenty of times in my life, it’s just that nothing has ever left a scar.”

“Amazing.” He murmurs, not resentful at all. His hand holding yours as he sits in the newfound knowledge that you are his. You are his. You are his. He chuckles softly. “Percy was right.”

“The son of a bitch,” you chuckle, sniffling through the laughter. “He’ll never shut up about it now.”

“No he won’t.” He doesn’t care though. Percy can crow from the top of the Empire State Building for all he cares. It’s true. “But we can just ignore him.”

"I'm an expert at that," you joke, making both of you giggle.

“God, we are soulmates.” He repeats it again, sure he might say it a hundred more times. “I can’t believe that. I can, but….” He shrugs, unable to articulate his feelings. He can barely process them.

“But you’re still sort of in disbelief?” You guess, knowing you feel the same way. One of your hands cups his cheek, and you smile as your fingers seek out that place behind his ear that now carries your ink. “It’s us, you know,” you tell him quietly. “The birds…they’re us.”

“Us?” He tilts his head curious, not sure what you mean. “How are they us?”

As you head toward home, you explain the meaning of the swallows to him, and how you chose to have two instead of just one in your design so that it would be even more meaningful. “I kind of hoped that you might call or text me about it over the weekend, but obviously Percy didn’t say a damn thing about him getting a new mark this weekend, too.”

“That’s my fault.” Harry admits softly, looking and feeling guilty as he pulls you close. Your soft curves meld into his frame and he loves it. Planning something special for you now just became his top priority. “I might have freaked out when I got the marks.”

“I was afraid of that…” It was your top fear, actually. “I convinced myself it would be worth the confirmation, though. That being certain meant far more. I’m sorry I made you worry, baby.”

“No, no, I should have called.” He can admit that now. Now that things seem so obvious but he pressed his lips to your knuckles. “It was just too important to talk about over the phone.” He huffs. “And I was afraid it would be the end of our relationship if you didn’t have the tattoo.”

“Harry.” Returning the gesture, you bring his knuckles to your lips in turn. “Even if you didn’t get my ink, I still wouldn’t have left you. That’s not what this was about. This was just about having an answer.”

“I know.” He does know that, despite having marks, you loved him. It was his own self doubt that had caused issues.

“And now we have the answer.” A big, bright, beautiful, happy answer.

“I love you.” Harry murmurs softly, “thank you for putting up with me. I know it’s a lot. I’m a lot.” He knows he’s difficult, and he’s grateful you haven’t just broken up with him because he’s annoying and a control freak.

“I’m a lot, too.” And for once, you don’t just mean physically. You both have big personalities and jobs with big demands. “But I think we work well together. And apparently, the universe thinks so, too.” You smile, remembering a tv quote that had always stuck with you. “We might both be high maintenance, babe. But that’s okay. We like maintaining each other.”

“We do, don’t we?” Harry gives. It’s what he does. But you also give. You give in the ways that you make dinner or get him a glass of whiskey when you are pouring yourself a glass of rum. The way you think of him with little texts or jokes. You’ve filled his time and space with laughter and brightness.

“Which is why…” you grin, waggling your eyebrows at him. “I got you a little gift while I was in Vegas.”

“A gift?” He is surprised. “The tattoo wasn’t the gift?”

“I got you a second gift.” The clarification makes you both grin. “Because you’re absolutely right. The tattoo is a gift, too.”

“What kind of gift?” He asks suspiciously, even if he is grinning.

“Your favorite kind.” And that you know for sure, smirking at him as you slip a thumb into the neckline of your blouse to push it aside and show him the emerald green lace strap of your brand new bra. The entire matching lingerie set also had a matching teddy, which you are sure will be a favourite if he doesn’t rip it by accident.

“That is my favorite kind of surprise.” He chuckles, reaching out to slide a hand up your leg and he finds the edge of the garter you are wearing. “Does it all match?” He asks huskily.

“Of course it does.” Mismatched lingerie sets bother him almost more than they bother you. What you aren’t telling Harry at the moment is that you didn’t get just one set. It’s just that this is the one you opted to come home in. “Lingerie shopping with the girls was a trip.”

“No problem though, right?” He asks, frowning slightly. You have mentioned before you have such a hard time finding things in your size that are actually meant to fit well.

“We went to Frederick’s of Hollywood,” you tell him happily. “If I ever take you in there, I think you’ll cum instantly.”

“Then I can’t be in that store.” Harry snorts. “Never been to jail before and I think that’s a lewd acts charge.”

“It just means I’ll always have a place to get you treats from.” You have the bracelet that he bought you on your wrist, and glance down at the gleaming gold and precious diamonds with a soft smile. “I have to return the favor somehow.”

“I wanted to get you something to remember the weekend by.” He leans in and presses his lips to your jaw, right below your ear. “Now that you know you’re my soulmate, you can’t complain when I buy you jewelry.”

"I can't?" His lips are so soft and so warm that you practically sigh, but you know if he do he'll take that as a sign that he wins, and you're both too playfully competitive for that. "But I don't recall ever complaining before. Was I supposed to start?"

“I could see you wanted to protest.” He amends, grinning against your jaw and kissing it again.

“I’ll try to look less protest-y.” He nuzzles against your jawline and you let that sigh go anyway.

“Good.” He hums. “Since one day you will be my wife, it’s my job to spoil you.”

The shiver that runs up and down your spine as he bundles you close in his arms again is not an accident and you know it. "Oh yeah?" You ask, tipping your chin back to look at him like you aren't on the edge of giddy giggles at this particular declaration. "Is that what I'm going to be, handsome?"

“Spoiled?” He smirks. “You don’t think you will be?”

"I'm already spoiled." A point of fact, and if he tries to debate you on it you'll flash the Cartier bracelet on your wrist at him, along with the key to his penthouse that he has offered to share with you without hesitation. "I meant...am I going to be your wife?"

“Yes.” There’s no doubt in his mind right now. Not when he loves you and your tattoo is emblazoned on his skin. Proclaiming for the entire world to see that you are his. “You will be my wife and I will be your husband.”

"Well I'm very glad that that's settled." If there was ever a time to burrow into his side and just stay there, this is it, but you have to kiss him first. Slow, sure, and seated so deeply in your own solid affection and love that you could just about cry. "And I agree, by the way."

“Not now.” He promises. “We won’t take away from Percy and Tam.” The last thing he wants to take any attention away from them this week.

“We wouldn’t dream of it.” Gliding toward the penthouse, the car has carried you almost all the way home now but you’re content to stay tucked in the backseat with him forever.

“No, not at all.” He picks up your hand. “Do we tell them now or wait until after the wedding?” He’s asking, not sure what happened on the bachelorette trip. They might be waiting for confirmation of marks or not.

"If I don't text the girls by tomorrow morning, one of them is going to come at our front door with a battering ram to find out," you tell him, and you're only half joking. "I...think I made some new friends this weekend."

“That’s good, right?” He had listened to you say you needed to make friends, only to turn down his offers of introducing you to some of the women that are in his circle. Saying that you preferred to make friends organically. Whatever that means.

"I think so, yeah." The car shifts, obviously turning into the garage attached to Harry's building. To you building. "Of course, none of them live in New York full-time, so it's not exactly the coup d'etat that it could be. But it's a start."

“There are planes.” He reminds you with a small smirk. “I think you just got off of one? They take you places to let you visit far away destinations? You can use one to visit these new friends of yours.” He shrugs. “Or the helicopter, depending on how far they are.”

“I quick little helicopter jaunt for a bitches’ brunch,” you giggle at that. “No big deal.”

“It wouldn’t be.” Harry shrugs slightly. “I can give you the pilot’s number. Good guy. Former military. I trust him with your life.”

“The idea of taking a helicopter anywhere is outrageous to me.” There are plenty of things about his lifestyle that you’re still adjusting to, but none of it is bad. It’s sort of the opposite, in a way. Things that had presented difficulty before can be solved so easily when you have nearly limitless resources at your fingertips.

“I will get you in the helicopter at some point.” Harry snorts. “Arrive at your wedding party location instead of spending hours driving or something.”

“As long as the venue has a helipad,” you tease. The car has pulled to a stop and the engine cuts, signaling you’re finally home.

“Do what I do if they don’t.” Harry winks as he opens the door. “Land in the field next door and make a dramatic entrance.”

“You do like to make a splash.” Pressed into Harry’s side and kissing him is one way his driver has seen you far more than once, so Stanley doesn’t comment. He just smiles to himself when he opens the door and stands back to let you both take your time.

“Ready to go home?” He asks you softly. “It will be good to sleep beside you again.” He admits with a sheepish grin. “Didn’t sleep well without you.”

“Me either,” you nod, and lean up to whisper in his ear before kissing his cheek. “Though I didn’t plan on letting you get too much sleep tonight.” The two of you slide out of the car, bid Stanley good night, and head into the building wrapped in each other’s arms. Your bags are fine at your feet in the elevator — you would much rather be kissing your soulmate.

Harry pulls you closer, the anxiety of the flight melted away and replaced with need. Need for you. He groans as he twists and presses you against the car wall, loving how you gasp his name.

It doesn't surprise either of you when your bags are left in the hall by the door and you go straight to bed instead of unwinding slowly. It's making love this time, whispering words of love and promises in each other's ears are your bodies tangle together. It's carefully stripping each other bare and remapping every inch of each other's skin, relearning what pleasure means for your soulmate. It's coming apart with ecstatic cries and holding each other through the unexpected tears as Harry grips and tears at the fact that he can let go of the fear that someone better for you than him will one day stroll into your life.

There isn't anyone who could take his place with you. With his soulmate.

****** The week has been light due to the prep for the wedding, but Harry had left the office two hours earlier than he normally would have. Nervous to meet your parents tonight. He had stopped by his favorite florist to pick up some flowers for your mother and then he had dropped by the liquor store to pick up his favorite bottle of whiskey for your dad.

Now, he stands in front of the mirror and tries to choose which tie he wears, opting for a little less casual when meeting his soulmate’s parents.

You had left your office early as well, but with a fully different destination in mind. You're off to La Guardia to pick up your parents, driving the run down little sedan that Harry huffs about not being safe enough, and going over your checklist in your head. The week of any client's wedding is hectic but this one is doubly so because of all the particulars. You're dealing with increased security, with arrivals from all over the world, and with wedding details all pulled together at the last minute. Thankfully, these vendors are pros.

The arrivals gate is as hectic as your work week, but you're determined that dinner tonight will be less so. Your parents are meeting your boyfriend -- your soulmate -- for the first time and you still have to actually tell them that he is your soulmate. The agreement that you wouldn't steal any spotlight away from Percy and Tamara meant that you waited to tell your parents until they were away from all the people they would gossip to. Which means you're going to tell them at dinner.

After you pick them up at the airport.

Which is right now.

Security and collecting luggage is always a pain, making your mother huff and your father grumble. There’s far too much but she squarely blames the man she’s married to, considering she can live out of a single sea bag for nearly a year if she has to. But there were presents to bring, mementos for Percy and they had to bring a few gifts from old friends at the Alewife. “There she is!”

Wearing burgundy sailor pants and a blouse with little silver stars embroidered all over it, your frame is easily recognizable amongst the other friends and family waiting to pick up new arrivals. Your heavy, familiar work tote is hung off one shoulder, but it’s not enough to keep you from sweeping in to hug your parents right away. “Hey y’all,” you all but sniffle into the tight squeeze.

“Are you allowed to say y’all in New York?” Your mother teases, even as she wraps you up on an especially tight hug. Even though she loves that you have branched out and followed your heart to the city, she misses having you close. “How have you been, sweetheart? You look wonderful.”

"I'm happy, Mom. Really, really happy." In all honesty, you're overwhelmed and overflowing with it, and it's the best you've ever felt in your entire life. You're invincible. Bubbling over with love and joy. "Let's get you guys checked into your hotel and we can chat a little before dinner, okay?"

"Well now I'm a little worried." Your dad jokes. "The last time you wanted to chat a little, you were telling us that you were moving to New York," he chuckles. "What is it this time? Tattoo? Soulmate?" He reaches over and pulls you in for his own hug. "Whatever it is, we will accept it. Unless you're joining the Navy. You know your mother can't handle that."

“I’m not abandoning my career,” you promise them, laughing as the three of you head out to the car. For some reason your dad has two suitcases, so you grab one and walk them out toward your car. “The first thing is…kind of a treat.” Normally you would call it a surprise, but there are lots of surprises ahead.

“Oh?” Your mother perks up as she walks alongside you. “A treat.” She flashes you a smile. “That is always nice. Did they upgrade our room in the hotel?”

"Something like that." By some miracle, you found absolutely amazing parking, and you are outside tucking your parents' things into your trunk in no time. "Harry wanted to give you a really exceptional first trip to the city. So we...sort of upgraded the whole hotel, not just the room."

“What?” She frowns slightly and tilts her head in confusion. She glances over at her husband, seeing the same confusion written on his face. They had chosen a nice, albeit budget, hotel.

"He...has a tendency to spoil." And since you were the one who made the reservation for your parents, it had taken only a little work for him to convince you that they deserved the royal treatment this week.

“The boyfriend is trying to make a good first impression.” She hums, looking almost amused but she approves of the effort. “I think I like him already.” She teases, knowing that you don’t need her approval, but she’s willing to give it to anyone that makes you happy. “So where is the royal treatment happening now? Instead of the Holiday Inn, Times Square?”

The grin that crawls across your face is slow and satisfied as you all pile into your car. "He thought The Plaza would be a little more indulgent."

“The Plaza?” Her eyes widen slightly and your father chuckles. She had always dreamed of staying there, even if she had scoffed and called it a waste of money.

"That's what I thought you'd say." It's nice to see her so excited, because you know exactly why. Your mother is the one you get your caretaking instincts from -- i.e. you take care of everyone else and do very little for yourself. "We thought the four of us could have high tea together before you go home?"

“Oh.” Her expression softens into something sweet, yearning. She’s always wanted this, but never quite indulged herself.

"Good." You know what that sound from her means, and look over to grin at her as you start to drive away from the airport. "Because I already booked it."

“Sweetheart-“ delight lights up her face and she is beaming at you instead of watching you drive. A habit she developed from deployments. “I don’t know what to say.”

"Just enjoy yourself, Mom." That's all you want for them this week. That they get to enjoy themselves. That they get to celebrate. "And Dad," you glance into the backseat. "I know you're going to grumble that room service will be too expensive to try." His favorite thing at any new hotel is trying out their in-room dining. "Please go ahead. Harry totally agrees with you about the fun of it and wants to hear what you think."

You had said your boyfriend was in finance, but they hadn’t pried. “Well, that is very generous of him, but we don’t want to cause any strain on him financially. I know it is expensive to live in this city.” He grunts.

"Dad." Another glance in the rearview mirror, and you shake your head a little. "I promise, it's not. Otherwise I wouldn't have let him change the hotel reservation at all."

“He must do well for himself.” Your mother comments. “We will have to thank him when we meet him.”

"He does." That is a bit of an understatement. "And...he's very nervous to meet you. About as nervous as I am to meet his parents. Dinner tonight is...it's a bit of a big deal for us."

“That sounds serious.” Twisting, she looks back at her husband again. Always worried and hopeful for her baby.

"It is." While Harry hasn't actually proposed yet, you are both in agreement. You loved each other enough to commit before knowing you were soulmates, and this is like the extra layer of cement holding you together.

“And he is good to you?” She asks. “Good for you?”

"Do you remember the guy I dated senior year of high school?" You ask them, holding in a smirk. Your ex had been unmotivated, entitled, moody, and an all around negative influence. It had taken Percy and your parents sitting you down at the kitchen table one Saturday and laying out all the reasons you needed to dump him in a logical, successive progression before you even started to see the light. When you parents look stricken and worried, you grin. "Harry is the exact opposite."

“That’s a relief.” Your dad huffs and your mom raises her brow at you playfully. “Little girl, I almost grounded you.” She threatens, although there’s absolutely nothing that she could do beyond worry and try to talk you out of that choice.

"I have to have some fun with you guys," you laugh, practically snorting at the abject horror on your father's face.

“No more surprises like that please.” Your mother rolls her eyes and shakes her head at you. “Your father’s already talking about packing you back up to North Carolina. Don’t give him an excuse.”

"Sorry guys." You're still laughing, but you shake your head and grin. "I think I'm a permanent New York City resident now. I'm doing really well at work and all of Harry's business is based here."

“I thought Percy was moving to L.A.?” Your dad asks. “Did he stop working with this boyfriend of yours?” You had explained the connection when you told them you were dating Harry.

"Percy runs the LA office of their business now," you explain. The drive to their hotel isn't as bad as it could be, but it's not great. You're just taking it block by block. "But he's back this week, helping with all of the wedding details. We thought that we could all have dinner together tomorrow? You guys still haven't met Tamara."

“I can’t wait to meet her.” Your mother smiles and your dad leans forward between the seats. “I saw that period piece she did a few years ago. She is lovely.” He tells you.

"I made them promise to take me to that museum where they filmed when I finally get out to LA." Tam had agreed instantly, and immediately texted her designer friend that used to work there about getting you a private tour.

“Isn’t that the same year that she met Percy?” He asks, unsure of the timeline of it all. Their relationship had been really public at the Met and then it was silence for security purposes.

“A little after, dear,” your mother tells him, having been an avid fan of Tamara Wilson’s far before she knew the actress was Percy Stokes’ soulmate. “They really only met earlier this year. The movie came out last year.”

“Okay, okay. I’m following.” He nods, although he will probably forget again. He doesn’t pay attention to that kind of thing and couldn’t tell you who Nic Cage is if you put a gun to his head.

“All you need to know is that the wedding is Saturday and the rehearsal dinner is Friday,” you tell him, waving one reassuring hand. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“We will be there with our bells on.” Your mother promises. “I’m so proud that Percy has found his soulmate.” She is also excited about meeting Tamara but had promised herself she wouldn’t gush.

“He’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” And you mean that with your entire heart. It doesn’t hurt that your parents are avid believers in the soulmate connection even though they taught you to follow your heart rather than your marks.

“That’s perfect.” Your mother smiles, remembering the happy and hopeful best friend to her daughter. He deserves the world and she’s happy he’s getting it.

“I’m sorry I can’t be around to play tourist with you all week, but I did look up a bunch of museum info for you and wrote down a few restaurant suggestions for lunches. Harry and I made time to make sure the four of us can always have dinner together if it’s not a wedding event night.”

“Sweetheart, you are working.” Your dad tuts. “We had honestly planned to take a taxi to the hotel before you insisted on picking us up. You have to be running around like crazy this week.”

“A little.” A lot, if you’re being honest. “But…I missed you guys. I want to spend some time with you.”

“We are available whenever you have time.” Your mother promises. “We won’t be demanding at all.”

“Which is why,” you glance over meaningfully at your mother. “I made time, and I’m letting you know when that is. Organization is a virtue, or wasn’t it you that taught me that?”

“Of course.” She smiles. “We just are proud of you. This is a big event. And you let us know if there is anything we can do to help.”

“You’re not lifting a finger this week,” you promise them. “This is going to be about relaxing and having fun.”

TSoMS: @inept-the-magnificent @aomi-recs @noisynightmarepoetry @beezusvreeland @vikiii07 @unholyhuntress

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