#because i will NOT go through the work of forming a coherent thought just to make a post

[tagged-by-trauma]

Would you do Pedro character like Harry Castillo x f!reader, if so write this

You are working as assistant. You take care of all the works and lots of schedule for his company. Harry was in his office, focusing as you came to him about schedule the meeting. He just wanna asked for dinner. You simply gonna think about it and you go back to your office. Few moments ago. You walks to restaurant that he was waiting for you. They even got chemistry and so on. *fluffiness*

Dinner with you

When your boss asks you on a date you hesitate, but it turns out to be the best night of your life. Pairing: Harry Castillo x assistant!reader Warnings: fluff, softness, alcohol consumption ( I'm not home in the world of wines so I just searched and wrote in one), Harry being himself Word count: 1.8k A/N: I still haven't seen Materialists because it still didn't come out in my country, and there isn't even a date for it yet so...

You have been Harry’s assistant for months now, always helping him in everything. You first met him on the interview of his. Before that you just heard rumours of him. How handsome he was, how caring he was, what a gentleman he was, and every woman that saw him was talking about his intelligence too.

You were sitting at your desk, organizing folders and writing down important dates when your work-phone rang. You picked it up and listened carefully as the woman on the other side informed you about needing to put Harry’s meeting to another day because his work partner got sick and couldn’t attend. You pulled a paper and pen in front of you and scribbled down every important information. Thanking the woman, you put down the phone.

When you stood up—adjusting your skirt that rode up your thighs—you held the paper between your fingers and walked to Harry’s door, your heels clicking on the marble floor, the cool air of the built-in AC hitting against your face. You stood in front of his office, hands coming up to tap the wooden door three times with a soft ‘Mr. Castillo’.

“Come in,” you heard his muffled voice behind the door, and pushed it open to step in. His office was definitely not something what people would expect from a man so successful like him, but it was perfect for its purpose. The walls were covered in dark wood, as well as the floor, and on the side where the office looked to the streets it was covered in windows from the floor to the ceiling. Harry was sitting in his leather covered chair behind his desk, and you walked up to him confidently.

“Mr. Castillo,” he looked up from his paper, the pen falling onto the table. His eyes were dark as he not so subtly looked you up and down, and then they finally settled on yours. “Mr. Dante’s assistant called to inform you that you’ll need to put the meeting to another time due to Mr. Dante’s sickness,” he nodded, arms folded.

“And when will it be?”

“She told me they need to find a date which is good for you, Mr. Castillo and also for Mr. Dante,” as you were talking you put the paper in front of him, and his head turned towards it, his eyes skipping through the information. He let out a content hum and suddenly looked at you. “If you tell me the dates where you are free then I can inform Mr. Dante’s assistant and then we—” you couldn’t finish your sentence when he cut it at the middle with one single question.

“Are you free tonight?” your expression was completely baffled in that moment, not expecting such boldness from him. You stood there, hands intertwined in front of you, and it seemed like you were stuck in that position.

“Mr. Castillo—”

“I’m sorry for just asking it, but I’d like to take you for dinner, if that’s alright,” a million thoughts were running around your mind and you couldn’t seem to be able to form any coherent word, but one thing was repeatedly there.

It was completely unprofessional.

But you couldn’t deny it that Harry was a very handsome man with a beautiful soul and heart, and it made you hesitant in your decision. You couldn’t give a normal answer so you just blurted out the most obvious answer.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. Castillo.”

“I don’t want anything else just a dinner,” he paused, and the quietness was almost touchable in the air. His answer was making you nervous, but the thought of accepting kept crawling back to the back of your mind.

“I’ll think about it,” you murmured with a final nod and a little sigh. You saw as his face lighted up with happiness, and you couldn’t help but let a soft smile creep to your face at his excited expression.

“Alright,” he stood up and walked around the desk until he was towering over you. “Uhm, can I ask for your address, so I could pick you up at let’s say… Seven?” you probably stood in front of him like you didn’t understand English, and you were trying to make out everything he said. When the words finally hit you, you scribbled down your address on the paper you just pushed in front of him and straightened back up.

“But don’t be so caught up. Mr. Castillo. I can still say no to it.”

“I know, darling,” you felt a blush raise to your cheeks at the pet name, and with your eyes fixed to the ground you started walking towards the door. But soon you stopped in your tracks when he called after you with a soft voice. Turning around you looked at him, hand resting on the doorhandle.

“Yes?”

“Stop calling me Mr. Castillo. Harry is perfectly fine,” if you didn’t feel nervous enough, then it put another pressure to your shoulders, but also happiness that he trusted you with saying his first name.

“Alright, Harry,” a grin spread over his face when he heard his name coming from your mouth.

When he turned back to his desk and went to sit down, you pushed open the office door and stepped out. In front of the door, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in all this time, and your mind drifted back to making a decision.

But deep down you knew that you’ve already chosen.

—-—

You were standing in front of your mirror when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, the sight of Harry hit you. He was standing there—out of his casual suits—wearing a grey button-up and casual jeans. He was holding a bouquet of roses, and you looked at him in surprise.

“Hey,” he called from behind the roses, and smiled.

“Hey,” he held out the roses to you and you took it with a bit of a struggle. “Roses, huh? You’re really trying to impress me.”

“It depends. Is it working?”

“Maybe. But you’ll have to do better than this,” you locked the door, and took his offered arm.

“Don’t worry, darling. I’m up for the challenge,” you went down the stairs, already trying to pull it out of him where he would take you, but he didn’t give in, always avoiding the question with a you will see.

—-—

When his car pulled up in front of one of the most expensive restaurants of New York you looked at him in disbelief. He just shrugged like it was no big deal, and parked the car close to the entrance.

Inside he gave his name, and the waiter showed you your table, but you couldn’t really pay attention to it, because the lights and the jazz music playing in the background was the only thing you could see and hear. Standing at the table, he walked to your chair and pulled it out for you. Thanking him you sat down and watched as he took his own seat opposite you.

“What can I get you for drink?” the waiter’s eyes were pacing back and forth between you and Harry.

“What would you like to drink, darling?” Harry asked, and given your experiences with luxury restaurants—which was equal with zero—you looked at him helplessly, not knowing how to answer.

“Can you decide?” Harry nodded, his eyes full of warm and understanding, and he turned to the waiter who was waiting for the order.

“Then we’ll take the Concha y Toro Don Melchor Cabernet Sauvignon,” the waiter nodded, and walked away, and you looked at Harry completely dumbfounded, but his smile was still wide and his gaze still happy.

“Well, that sure sounded pretty expensive and the name was pretty long,” he let out a quiet laugh, the sound ripping through the thick air between you. You smoothed your hand over the fabric of your dress, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“But it is very rich in taste.”

“I trust you,” the night went on with this pace, you asked for his opinion about the food, him helping you out, and the music creeping into your ear like it was a melody you couldn’t close out. The wine was the best you’ve ever had, and the food was so delicious that you ate all of it, and if you could, you would have asked for another plate of it. The conversation was flowing so easily between you two that you almost forgot that he was your boss, and you were his assistant. But as good as it was the night has come to an end, and you could see that neither him nor you liked the idea of it.

The journey back to your house was filled with soft laughter and deep conversation. In a moment of quietness Harry’s hand came down to rest on your thigh, not trying to invade but to try to capture this moment and not let it go. When he parked down, he turned to you in his seat, a questioning look on his face.

“I hope I lived up to the expectations.”

“There were never any expectations for you Harry, just to be yourself,” you murmured, and his hand gave your thigh a soft squeeze. You looked down and after a moment of thinking you rested your hand over his. His eyes shined with surprise, but the pressure of his palm remained there.

“So, that means we could maybe repeat this night?” his tone was warm, but also gravelly because of the drank wine.

“Yes, I suppose.”

You could see the struggle behind his eyes, as he was thinking whether he should give you a hug or no—maybe it would make you too uncomfortable. But before he could think more about it, you leaned over the console and put your arms around his shoulders.

“Thank you for tonight, Harry,” you whispered into the collar of his shirt, the scent of his perfume crawling into your nostrils. His hands immediately settled over your back, pulling you as close as the console allowed.

“And thank you for agreeing to go on a date with a man like me,” you pulled back with a frown on your face, and took his face between your hands, caressing his stubbled jaw.

“You’re so much more than you think of yourself, Harry. And I hope someday you’ll realize it,” with a quick peck to his cheek you reached for the doorhandle and gave him a final look. “Good night, Harry,” he looked at you as he melted into his seat by the quick press of your mouth against his skin, his brain playing tricks with him.

“Good night, darling.”

That night you both felt a connection like never before, and maybe you didn’t know yet, but it was nagging at the back of your mind that this could turn into so much more than just a friendship, more than just a relationship. You both felt it, and you welcomed it with open arms and open hearts.