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harrywritingsbyme · 3 days ago

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The Sweetest Case

a/n: hey y’all, long time no see, lol. I caught the writing bug that included follow-through with writing, editing, and posting. I just had this random idea pop into my head at 3am one night and figured I’d give it a stab. This one is so cute and will be a two-parter and potentially a mini-series. Also, the characters are down horrendous for each other. The second part is going to have my world-famous smut lol, so don’t worry lol. I’ve just been in a fluffy, very cutesy vibe for a long time, and idk if y’all were into that, given my normally smut-heavy writing. Anyway, I hope u like it…enjoy 🫶🏾😗

a baker!Harry au

pinterest mood board ♡

summary: an attorney’s structured life is turned upside down when a charming café owner shows her that love might just be the sweetest case she’ll ever take on.

word count ~ 6.2k words

Not even in your wildest dreams would you have thought that your late commute into the office on a random Tuesday morning would bring you and the man of your dreams together. You knew that casually stumbling across the love of your life wasn’t completely farfetched. But since it’d been confined solely to the pages of the books you’d read on the train to and from work, you were a bit weary of its potential.

But you were in for a rude awakening when you stumbled into the café a block from your office. You were already running late due to your choice of snoozing your alarm three times that morning, so you couldn’t stop at your regular coffee shop on your way to the train. However, no matter how late you were, you would never skip your morning latte. Maybe you’re a creature of habit, or perhaps you have a serious caffeine addiction; regardless, you were going to stop for your morning fix.

You’d seen the quaint shop on the corner on your walks to work, never stopping in, merely eyeing the pastries and deserts through the window as you walked by. You hated the coffee in your office, so there was no other option but to grab a coffee from the charming shop. You stepped underneath the pale green and white awning, pulling open the surprisingly heavy door with curly letters spelling out Sugar Bowl Bakery & Café. When you step inside, you’re immediately enveloped by the warm air and delicious smell of freshly baked goods circulating through the room.

Upon stepping up to the counter, you’re face to face with a pretty handsome barista in what you assumed to be the standard issue pale green apron for the shop and a name tag with Harry scrawled across it clipped to the top.

“What can I get for you this morning?” Harry rasps from behind the counter, a smile forming on his lips as you break from your thoughts at the sound of his voice.

“Oh- um…” You stammer, breaking away from your inner thoughts. “Could I get a vanilla latte, please?” You rush out, a little flustered at your noticed staring. “And a croissant, please!” You quickly add.

“Of course.” Harry chuckles softly, adding the haphazard croissant to your order. “Can I get a name for the order?” He adds, despite you being the only order at the moment.

“Y/n”

“Thanks, that’ll be $8.34.” ‘Pretty,’ Harry thinks as he replies, biting his lip to stop himself from beaming down at you. It only worsens for him as he watches you maneuver into your purse through your jacket, fishing through your things to find your wallet. At that moment, Harry’s wracking his brain to know if he’s seen anyone as beautiful and adorable as you were at this moment. And he comes up short.

“Here ya go.” You smile, handing over the $10 bill you’d pulled from your wallet. He quickly pulls your change from the register along with your receipt.

“Your order will be ready in a couple of minutes.” Harry carefully hands you the receipt and change, his fingers lightly brushing against your palm.

“Thanks.” You whisper back with a small smile, dropping the change in the tip jar and stepping away from the counter. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining things or if you felt a shock of electricity run through your hand when he touched yours. And you weren’t imagining things; Harry could feel it too, not that either of you could confirm or deny at that moment anyway. You were so caught up in the whirlwind that was Harry that you weren’t even stressed about being late for work.

After waiting a couple moments, Harry calls your name with your order in hand.

“Have a good one.” He says, his eyes locking on yours as a bright smile spreads across his lips.

“Thanks, you too.” You reply with a smile, taking the items from his hands. Again, your hands brush against him, and you feel a jolt of electricity flow through your hands. So no, you weren’t just imagining it the first time. You quickly turn and walk out of the shop, desperately trying to shake off the butterflies starting to attack your stomach.

As you walked away, Harry’s eyes never left you, following your every move until you were out of his sight. It was as if you and he were sharing one feeling. A feeling of excitement and hope to see each other again and simply be in one another’s presence. It was overwhelming but in a good way. A feeling that both of you wanted to feel again and neither of you wanted to forget.

While you walked toward your office, you finally took a sip of the hot drink in your hand. You didn’t know if you were biased towards the man making it, but this had to be the best latte you’d ever had. Either way, you were planning on becoming a regular at the establishment.

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And a regular you were. For a month or so straight, you came in every morning on your way to work, stopping in for your regular vanilla latte and croissant and your daily chats with Harry. You both secretly wished you could sit down and become properly acquainted, but the morning rush in the shop had other plans. Either way, you two appreciated the small interactions. In fact, they stayed on your minds all day long and kept you both afloat until the next morning when you got to do it all over again.

There was one morning, though, where there was absolutely no way you two could even say good morning to each other, as the place was just about packed to the brim. Even though the place was already popular, the muffins randomly went viral, and everyone flooded into the bakery to get their hands on them. In your head, you were patting yourself on the back for being ahead of the muffin curve. The shop was so packed that the only interaction you two had was a glance and smile when he turned at the sound of your voice as you placed your order. Yes, he remembered your voice. It’d be kind of hard to not remember your voice as he replayed it in his head nearly every chance he got. Not only did he remember your voice, he remembered your smile, your laugh, your presumably unorganized purse, given the way you always had to fish around for your wallet, and your bright yet soft aura that undoubtedly flooded the room and his being whenever you walked in.

Because of this incessant need for Harry to be around you, he decided to take the leap and unofficially ask you out. When your name was called to pick up your order, you grabbed the cup and bag and shuffled through the crowd and out the door. Only when you stepped onto the elevator of your office building did you see the note Harry had written on the bag. ‘Sorry, we couldn’t have our usual chat this morning. Stop by around lunchtime, I’ve heard our lunch menu is the best around. H.’ If there weren’t three other people in the elevator, you would’ve squealed from excitement. For the rest of the morning, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the clock, hoping it’d strike noon already so you could dash out of the office and back to the café.

When the time was finally on your side, you shot up from your desk, grabbing your jacket and purse before dashing out of the office. You stopped in the bathroom to straighten out your clothes and hair before taking the elevator down to the lobby. On your short walk to the shop, you tried your hardest to slow your breathing and heart rate, which was extremely elevated from excitement and nerves. It’s not like it was an official date. Right? Either way, your efforts were in vain because the moment you stepped into the warm establishment, your eyes met Harry’s, and your heart was ready to explode out of your chest all over again.

He’s leaning against the ledge behind the counter, waiting for your arrival. For the past 15 minutes before you came in, he kept an eye on the door, his head tilting up every time he heard the small bell on the door ring. Harry was doing his best to keep cool, trying his best to avoid thoughts of you not showing up or not being into him the way he was into you. Harry and yourself would’ve thought that at your age, you’d be calmer and less anxious about someone you were romantically interested in. But even though you could’ve kicked yourselves for being so infatuated with the other, neither of you cared to fight it much because, deep down, you both had a feeling that it’d be worth it.

“I was told that this place has an excellent lunch menu.” You hum, unwrapping your scarf that was bundled up around your neck.

“I’d have to agree with that.” He chuckles, beaming down at you from across the counter. “What can I get you, love?” He adds with a smile, making your heart flutter a bit.

“I’ll have whatever you recommend.” You reply, putting the choice for lunch in his hands.

“Alright, any allergies I should know about?” He continues.

“Nope.” You pop back, reaching into your purse for your wallet to pay. When he sees you going to pay, he quickly stops you in your tracks.

“No need, it’s on the house.” Harry quickly rushes out. He hadn’t even put the order into the system.

“You sure?” You shoot a questioning pout in his direction, weary of him picking up your tab.

“Yes. Now, how about you go and pick a seat, and I’ll bring the food to you? " he lightheartedly instructs, sending you on your way while he heads towards the kitchen in the back.

When you’re out of his sight, you drop the cash you would’ve spent in the tip jar and turn to find a seat in the tranquil café. You pick an able that’s in a corner by the window and make yourself comfortable while you wait.

In what seemed like no time at all, in the corner of your eye, you see Harry coming in your direction with a tray of food in hand.

“Alright, I picked some of my favorites off the menu.” He says, strategically placing everything down so it could fit onto the small café table before sitting in front of you.

“Everything looks amazing.”You whisper, taking in everything he’d placed before you. You were a little curious, though, as to how he could have possibly known that you were the type to have two beverages, with a cup of tea and a glass of ice water on the table for you. You were even more curious about why he hung around with you. “Why are you sitting? I’m not gonna be the one to get you in trouble with your boss, Harry.” You pointedly add.

“Love, it’s kind of hard to get in trouble with the boss when you own the place,” Harry smirks, sending a slight wink your way before making up his tea.

“You’ve been the owner this entire time?!” You whisper-shout across the table, a little shocked at the revelation.

Harry then goes on to explain that he’d opened this second location for his bakery almost two years ago, a little while before you started at your firm, and often frequented to help out a bit. He also explained how he wasn’t even supposed to be there the morning you first came in and that he was only in to help a bit since some of the staff were sick. Maybe it was meant to be, after all. Especially since you were running late for work and needed a quick coffee in the area that morning.

For the next half hour or so, you two talked and ate, discussing almost everything from your families to your jobs and hobbies. He told you about how he’d recently become an uncle (which he was beaming about from across the table) and how he’s a shop owner professionally, but his passion is baking. He developed just about every recipe for every item sold in the café. Harry also brought up how he was working on a cookbook and creating new recipes, which led him to his favorite show, ironically enough, The Great British Bakeoff. Which also explained the accent.

Conversely, you told him that you were an attorney, which he was thoroughly impressed by, but not so impressed that he asked you everything you could possibly imagine about your job, which was refreshing, believe it or not. You went on about how you related to him about being close with your mom and how you enjoyed cooking from time to time. You were also similar in the way your favorite shows matched your profession in some way, your show being tied between Suits and Law & Order.

The two of you could’ve kept talking all afternoon long had it not been time for you to return to the office.

“Thanks for lunch, Harry. I think it may just be the best lunch around.” You smile, biting the inside of your lip as you stand from the table. “And I’m serious about being a taste tester for your cookbook. I’m never going to turn down a sweet treat.” You remind him, bundling yourself up again to brave the cool air outside.

“Well, since you’re going to be my taste tester, I think that warrants getting your phone number. So that I can keep you up to date on recipe developments.” He rations, standing up from the table as well.

“Yeah, I wanna be developed on all things recipes.” You counter, fighting back the giggle that was bubbling in your throat. You pull your phone out from your jacket pocket and hand it over for him to put his number in. “The Handsome Baker? That’s what you’re going with?” You laugh, staring down at the new contact.

“Well I mean, do you disagree?” He cocks his head to the side with a wide smirk spread across his face.

“I plead the fifth.” This time, fully biting your lip to conceal your dopey smile. You quickly shrug on your coat and slide your purse onto your shoulder before stopping directly in front of Harry. “I‘ll text you later…” You softly hum up to him, lightly tapping his chest. “About the recipes.” You add with a closed smile before making your way out of the door and back to work.

His eyes follow you as you walk toward your office until you’re out of sight. As he cleans up the table, his mind is solely on you. He replays the entire conversation with you repeatedly for the rest of the day and the next morning when he sees you again. You decided to toy with him a bit and text him until the next morning, getting the sense that he was waiting for your message. You were completely correct about it because he texted you back less than 5 minutes after you’d sent the initial message.

For the next week or so, the two of you kept up the same morning coffee and light lunches routine. The conversation flowed continuously; if you two had it your way, you’d never leave your designated table in the corner by the window. Of the 6 lunches you two had, he only let you pay for two. In between, you two would be texting back and forth almost nonstop. And there was only one mention of the recipes you signed up to taste test for.

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One day, though, you were unable to make your regularly scheduled lunch “date.” Your firm had just brought on a new client, and you were tasked with writing up a legal brief. This meant you’d be glued to your desk until at least 3 p.m. and unable to take your standard hour lunch.

You: hey, i won’t be able to make it for lunch today…boss dropped a project on my desk :(

The Handsome Baker : No worries :)

Now get back to work! Don’t wanting you getting in trouble with the boss. ;)

You couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips before turning your phone over and getting back to work. Believe it or not, you could completely lock in and focus on your work for the next hour. That is, until your desk phone rang, breaking you out of your work-related daze.

“Hey Emma.” You greet the receptionist through the phone, cradling it between your ear and shoulder as you went back to typing on your desktop.

“Hey, Y/n. Sorry to interrupt, but security just called up saying that you had a delivery in the lobby.” The receptionist replied in her usual chipper voice.

“Thanks, I’m heading down now.” You had a history of forgetting what you ordered online but wouldn’t have anything delivered to your job. But you figured stretching your legs couldn’t hurt, so you slipped your heels back on and made your way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

When you stepped off the elevator and rounded the corner, any confusion you had completely melted away. You were greeted with a smiling Harry standing at the security desk with a brown paper bag and what you presumed to be your go-to latte order in his hands.

On the flip side, Harry could feel his entire body warm when he saw you walking in his direction. He’d seen you dressed in your usual office attire (minus the glasses), but seeing you walking towards him as Y/n, the attorney, was an entirely different sight. It was like every other noise around him faded into nothing; only your heels clicking against the ground and your cheery voice as you closed in on him met his ears.

“Thanks, Andrew.” You greet the security guard as you push past the turnstiles, standing fully before Harry. “I could get used to the personal delivery.” You smirk, trying to conceal the millions of butterflies swarming around your stomach and chest at the sweet gesture.

“Well, you have to eat, and your favorite restaurant closes at 6pm. Plus I figured you could use a caffeinated pick me up.” He slightly tilts his head to the side, giving you a little smile.

“Who sad it was my favorite?” You poke back, mirroring his head tilt.

“Judging by the way I’ve seen you every morning and afternoon for almost two months, it’s safe to say you’re a big fan.” He grins, knowing he got you there.

“I guess so. But it’s only because I’ve heard the owner is kinda cute, can bake a great pastry, and makes a mean vanilla latte.” You whisper back, fully beaming up at Harry now.

Harry’s mind scrambles at your comment, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest and onto the glimmering floor. His mind only races further when your hands brush against his to take the cup and bag from him.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll text you later.” You reach up to leave a small peck on his cheek before returning to the elevators. As you turn the corner, you sneak a glance back in Harry’s direction to find him still standing there with his eyes solely on you. He hated to admit it, but as good it was to see you coming, it was even better to see you going.

As if you were telepathically linked, as soon as you were out of each other's sight, you both took a deep breath, your brains completely wracked from your interaction. The both of you were stunned at the gall on both of your parts in that small timeframe. For the rest of the day, it's all either of you could think about; thankfully, you were in the final stretch of your brief. Harry had brought you your favorite sandwich on the menu, a pastry he knew you loved, and a cupcake from a recipe he was testing out. You were his designated taste tester, after all. And you made sure to let him know, declaring it the best thing he's ever baked in his entire life over text.

That night, after all those unofficial lunch dates and secretly (quite obviously actually) pining for one another, especially after that afternoon, Harry finally made an official move.

The Handsome Baker: What’s your favorite dish?

You: spaghetti carbonara??

are you going to make a carbonara flavored cupcake for the cookbook??

i’ll try it but i'm not sure about that one…

The Handsome Baker: Not quite.

I thought we could make it together in the café kitchen this Friday around 8pm?

You: sounds like a date!

And just like that, you and Harry had your first official date scheduled for Friday night. Let’s just say you both were giggling and kicking your feet as you went to bed that night.

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Friday night couldn’t have come sooner; you two only had to wait two days, by the way. But to be fair, you hadn’t seen each other since Harry brought you lunch earlier in the week. The universe decided it’d be great to completely inundate you both with work the week of your first official date. Harry was busy at his other café location on the completely opposite side of town, and you were in meeting after meeting with clients and dissecting contracts page after page. But again, the only thing keeping Harry and yourself going was your date.

The day finally arrives, and a cocktail of nerves and excitement runs through your veins. While you’ve dated and done the first date thing plenty of times, you’d never had as good of a feeling about them as you did about the upcoming date with Harry. You couldn’t articulate it yet, but something was different this time.

Before you even pick out what you're wearing to work in the morning, you plan your outfit for that night. Up until now, Harry had only ever seen you in a suit or suit adjacent. You always felt confident, strong, and smart in your suits and workwear. But now you just wanted to feel soft and pretty. So, for almost an hour, you flipped through just about your entire closet, eventually settling on the perfect dress. It's not too dressy or too casual, but just right. After finally nailing down what you were going to wear, all the way through to the accessories and how you would do your hair, you finally got yourself dressed and out of the door to work.

While you were playing dress up and running late for work, Harry was flying around town picking up items for that evening. He picked up all the ingredients for dinner, stopping at three different grocery stores to get the best ingredients. He also grabbed your favorite bottle of wine, which he only knew to get since you’d sent a picture of the label a couple weeks ago after he mentioned wanting to try it. Along with the groceries and wine, Harry hauled his stand mixer and its fifty million attachments from his home kitchen to the café, stashing everything away into its proper places until he needed them later.

For the rest of the day, you two were locked into your work. You were almost certain you were typing and reading faster than normal, intent on walking out of the office at 5pm on the dot. Harry started the next day's prep work earlier than normal, making sure that he could send everyone home earlier to have the kitchen to himself. And right on schedule, you were heading home to get ready, and Harry had done the last bit of cleaning before sending his staff home early for the evening.

At that point, the countdown had begun. You were taking your precious time getting ready and refusing to account for Friday night traffic. Harry was practically in an episode of the amazing race, trying to get home to shower and change, stop by the florist before they closed to pick up a small flower arrangement, and set up the kitchen all before you arrived. While he may have appeared to be going mad and doing the absolute most, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Because similarly to how you felt, Harry had this gut feeling about you. While there was still so much more for you two to learn about each other, he thought that you already knew him so well. You two just clicked. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, but Harry was in love. And he was ready to say it whenever you were. He was just praying you felt the same way.

❃❃❃❃❃

The Beautiful Attorney: i’m outside :)

As soon as he saw your message, Harry rushed up from his table in the seating area of the café to the door to let you in, on the way, drying his sweaty palms on his pants. He could see your shoes tapping on the ground outside the door window, and a smile instantly made all his nerves disappear. When the door swings open, your eyes immediately meet, and your arms pull each other into a tight and long-awaited embrace. His arms snake around your waist while yours glide around his neck. You two whisper small ‘hi’s’ into each other’s ears. Upon pulling away from the embrace, Harry closes and locks the shop door, shutting out the cold air. He then helps you out of your coat, draping it over the table he once sat at, and leads you into the kitchen.

“So this is where the magic happens.” You hum, taking in the well lit kitchen. Your heart swelled at the sight of the full bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter.

“Indeed it is…” Harry chuckles. “Now put this on,” He continues, handing you a green and white striped apron to put on. Once you slip the apron around your neck, Harry reaches around you to tightly wind the ties around your waist to tie them together in the front. “Don’t your pretty dress getting dirty,” He mutters, intently tying them into a bow. When he’s done, Harry absentmindedly cups your hips, giving them a small pat before rounding the counter.

At that moment, all you wanted him to do was pull you against his chest and give you one of the best kisses of your life. Knock the air out of your lungs and officially claim you as his. You thought good things come to those who wait as you moved next to him.

“So I figured we could make everything from scratch.” Harry grins, starting to set up the stand mixer.

“I thought so…I hope that doesn’t include the wine though. I’m not a crushing grapes with my feet kind of girl.” You joke.

“Your favorite bottle is in the fridge, " he chuckles, watching you giddily skip over to the fridge in response. And could you grab the shopping bag in there, too?” You follow his orders. You sit the heavy bag of groceries on the counter before abandoning it to focus on opening the chilled bottle. Harry watches in amusement as you concentrate on maneuvering the cork out of the bottle.

“I had a long week okay.” You justify, eventually prying the cork out.

��Why don’t you tell me about it.” He offers, placing two wine glasses in front of you to fill.

You then go on to tell him about your week, every once in a whileawhile he’ll interject to know if the person you’re talking about is the same one you mentioned in previous conversations. You were impressed at how he remembered the little things you’d mentioned previously.

For the next hour the two of you cook, laugh and dance around the kitchen. Harry shows you how to make the absolute perfect pasta from scratch, somehow managing to make you want to cook more instead of just ordering out. After dropping the flour covered pasta into the boiling water, instead of prepping for the next step, Harry grabs you by your waist and spins you around the kitchen to the beat of the music playing out of his phone.

You two wouldn't have stopped if it hadn’t been for the stupid timer. While you were mixing the eggs and cheese for the pasta sauce, Harry was telling you about a potential new recipe for his cookbook. However, all you could think about was how he still hadn’t kissed you despite there being at least two open windows this night alone. You’re only broken out of your thoughts when you see Harry turn away from the stove towards you for your thoughts. You brush off your thoughts, telling him that the recipe sounded good.

Not long after, you two finish cooking dinner. Harry let you sit at the stainless island while he plated the food before taking a seat as well. Your aprons were removed, and you two were finally digging into your creation. It had to have been the best meal you’d ever had, and you weren’t saying that just because you were hungry or because it was Harry who helped make it. You two continued chatting over dinner about your families, shows you were watching, and everything else under the sun.

“I really hope we don’t have to make dessert too. I’m in a bit of a food coma.” You huff, pushing your cleaned plate towards the middle of the island.

“Don’t worry, I already took care of that for you.” Harry chuckles, standing up from the island. He places your dishes into the sink before opening the fridge to grab a small brown box filled with your favorite sweet treat. “I know it’s your favorite.” He grins, sliding the box towards you. When you look into the box, your eyes immediately light up at what’s inside. The cupcakes Harry had you try two weeks ago were sitting in the box just for you. And you waste no time flipping the clear lid off and popping one of the cakes out. You’re so engrossed in the delicious cupcake that you don’t even notice Harry intently watching you as he leaned against the counter next to you. That is, until you set the cupcake down on the counter to take a breath and pace yourself.

“Want a bite?” You motion down to the half eaten cupcake.

“I’m good love.” Harry smiles.

“You sure, it’s a really good cupcake.” You ask again, now looking up at him.

“Positive” He snickers, noticing you had a little frosting on the tip of your nose. But before he could even swipe it away, you were already standing in front of him with the other side of the cupcake waiting for him to take a bite.

“You have to taste your work.” You insist, your smirk becoming a grin when he takes a bite. “Good, right?” You add, to which Harry nods in response.

“But you already knew that since you have frosting all over your face.” He jokes, finally wiping away the frosting from your nose with his thumb. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, from the gesture.

At that moment, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His hand still rests against your face, shifting slightly to fully cup your cheek. Both of your hearts were racing, your stomach inundated with butterflies, and your chests rising and falling quicker than before. You shift slightly towards him, with your hands coming up to rest softly against his chest, nonverbally giving him the green light. The millionth one of you were being completely honest. However, this time, he got the memo loud and clear.

His free hand goes to your hip, gliding around to the small of your back to press you further into him. And without any further delay, Harry finally and firmly plants his lips on yours. It’s as if your entire body takes a big sigh of relief, instantly relaxing into his touch. In that moment, you two are perfectly in sync, his lips slotted with yours as he guided your movements. After a few more seconds, his lips separate from yours, allowing you both to come up for air. The both of you were panting messes, your warm breaths fanning across your faces.

“Took you long enough.” You lightly laugh as you nudge your nose against his, reaching up to wind your fingers around the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Well, allow me to make up for lost time.” Harry hums, smashing his lips back onto yours. He was now standing completely straight, holding you firmly against him. While his grip on you was firm, his hold was still gentle. Despite his fervent kisses, like your lips were the oxygen he needed to survive, his touch was delicate. His passion for you wasn’t overpowering; it was perfect. When you parted your lips, granting his tongue access to your mouth, he didn’t rush to cram it practically down your throat (like others in the past had). He took his time and was gentle. And all you could do was contently sigh against his lips from how absolutely perfect the moment was.

Eventually, you two flipped places with your back being now against the island. Only this time, you were being lifted up to sit on the cool steel counter. You slowly pull away from his lips, playfully snagging his bottom lip between your teeth a little as you pulled back.

“I wouldn’t want to defile your kitchen any further.” You whisper to Harry, your hands coming around from his neck back to their original spot on his chest. “Plus, I don’t intend on breaking any more of my dating rules with you tonight.” You assert. You weren’t a kiss on the first date, girl, let alone an entire make-out session like the one you enjoyed not even a minute ago.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a proper gentleman.” Harry pokes back proudly, moving back further to get a better look at you while planting his palms firmly onto the counter on either side of where you’re sitting.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You smirk, lightly poking a finger at his chest.

“And I intend to prove it to you.” He smiles, pecking your cheek.

“Are you asking me out on another date.” Because if he was, you were definitely saying yes.

“I’m asking you out on as many as you’ll have me.” He counters, a dopey smile falling onto his face as he took your features in. Yeah, it was official…Harry was in love.

You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, giddy with the prospect of going on more dates with him in the future. Hopefully forever.

After begging Harry to let you help him with the dishes and him standing firmly in his answer of absolutely not, you were finally heading back home. And, of course, he called you an Uber back home and made sure you arrived home safely. For the rest of the night, while you were getting ready for bed and while Harry was closing the kitchen, there was a permanent smile etched onto your faces as you replayed the night's events over and over again. You both wanted to relive it in your heads as many times as possible until the next time when you two got to do it all over again.

You: i had a great time with you tonight. can’t wait to do it again soon. <3

And almost instantly you got a response back.

The Handsome Baker: I had a wonderful time as well.

Just got in.

Sleep well, and I can’t wait to see you again. <3

Seeing him mirror your little heart made it nearly impossible for you to go to bed, but you managed to eventually fall asleep. And you indeed slept well. The both of you did. And you were pleasantly greeted the next morning with a text from Harry.

The Handsome Baker: Good morning beautiful.

You should stop by the café so I can kiss you again, and again.

After rereading the text at least 100 times, you fall back into your plush pillows, staring up at the ceiling in pure bliss. Yeah, this was shaping up to be the sweetest case you’d ever take on.

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i hope y'all liked it ♡

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venusbyline · 3 months ago

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Prince ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 08, oct.

— pairing: Aemond Targaryen x aunt!reader

— type: smut, dark, Kinktober (House of the Dragon Edition)

— kink: somnophilia

— summary: Aemond needs an heir if Aegon finally dies. Gwayne Hightower's wife is too drunk to notice his manipulation.

— word count: 1.7k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 8th day, Targcest (aunt/nephew), female!reader, Gwayne Hightower's wife!reader, dark!Aemond, somnophilia, dubcon/non-con, age gap (older woman/younger man), breeding kink, drunk sex, creampie, sexism, manipulation, fingering, infidelity & mistaken infidelity, curse words, marriage issues, dom!Aemond, sub!reader, baby fever, Aegon II Targaryen mentioned, Helaena Targaryen mentioned, Alicent Hightower mentioned, mentioned Jaehaera Targaryen, minor Gwayne Hightower x reader, porn with plot. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @baybaybear1 @blessedbymoon @p45510n4f4shi0n @lina-lovebug @moonnicole

— crossposting: AO3

At the moment, Aemond Targaryen possessed everything he desires. All the power he had envied his entire childhood was now no longer just a pure stupid illusion and becoming reality. With each passing hour, he became more powerful and also more ambitious.

The hunger for power was consuming him from head to toe.

As the Prince Regent, he practically had the throne to himself. He commanded and dismantled whoever he wanted. He made the main decisions. He could demand anything, and no matter how much the Small Council questioned and irritated him, it was Aemond who had the last word. He was running the war now.

Aemond had the commoners and Lords at his feet and was also and the fear that his family felt of him. Nothing was missing in his life for now. But his brilliant mind thought far ahead of the present time. Aemond Targaryen was not just cunning and greedy. He had an incredible sense of strategy and an incredible ability to manipulate all situations.

Now that part of his revenge against Aegon was already done, he needed to focus on the present and the future, leaving the outrages of his childhood aside for a few moments.

He was the Prince Regent, perhaps the future Lord of the Seven Kingdoms if Aegon's body finally decided to give in to suffering after the severe burns.

Aemond could be the new successor to the Iron Throne very soon. And a King was nothing without an heir.

Aemond had not known you for a long time. When his uncle, Gwayne Hightower, came to King's Landing to join Aegon's army in battle, you came along with him. Aemond did not like the idea of having another noble Lady in the castle. Alicent was already a pain in the ass since he kicked her out of the Council, Helaena was being useless since Jaehaerys' murder and little Jaehaera was just a silly child. He was afraid that you would irritate his patience just like his family's women did.

However, you were too focused on worrying about your husband's safety and praying for him in the Sept along with Alicent. Aemond often found himself thinking about you more than he wanted to. The way you sighed by frustration every time Gwayne left to solve some problem with the Royal Guard... Aemond could barely hide his smirk when he realized how neglected you felt.

If it was about someone else, Aemond would say that you were just spoiled needy whore and that his uncle was right to put the safety of his family first. If it was about anyone else, Aemond would never consider giving you what you seemed to want so much when you looked at Helaena playing with Jaehaera.

He needed an heir and you wanted a child to distract yourself from the neglected marriage. There would be no better deal than that.

That night, when Ser Gwayne Hightower left your chambers early because of a random emergency, the Prince Regent could not miss the opportunity to offer you a glass of wine to drown your suffering. At first, he started a brief and respectful conversation with you, noticing how your cheeks flushed as you drank the wine.

You were not used to drinking with any man other than Gwayne, much less your own nephew. Making criticisms about Gwayne to Aemond seemed too bitter and cruel. Gwayne did not deserve all that. He was a good husband, even if the focus of his life was not on your marriage.

When Aemond brought up the conversation about the absence of children in your lives, you immediately tried to change the subject, just saying that Gwayne did not want to have babies.

Aemond noticed how the subject bothered you. He noticed the way you curled up on the edge of the bed and tightened your grip on the glass. Before you could think of something less uncomfortable to talk about, Aemond took control of the situation, lying about Gwayne meeting a prostitute in one of the brothels on Street of Silk.

At first, you thought he was just joking. Afterwards, you thought the Prince was lying to mock you. But when Aemond kept coming up with false explanations, you finally gave in and believed what he was saying.

He served you another five glasses of wine, putting up with your crying and drunken outbursts. Until your body finally gives up and you fall asleep.

Aemond checked more than three times to see if your chamber's door was indeed locked. When he was sure that no one would come to interrupt anytime soon, Aemond moved to the edge of his bed, kneeling down and observing your drunk and sleepy figure. He looked at your rosy face from so much wine, as well as your reddish burgundy-stained lips.

He smirked as he ran his thumb over your cheek, the soft texture of your skin being one of the most delicious things his calloused fingers had the pleasure of touching. It was so different from the brothels prostitutes. It felt innocent and pure, even though you were married and no longer a maiden.

You still had enough innocence to be worthy of carrying the possible heir to the Iron Throne.

Aemond lifted your nightgown, hearing your confused and sleepy whimper as the soft satin fabric came off and exposed your skin to the light night breeze that came through the windows.

Your face moved to the side, your sleep becoming disturbed when Aemond ripped off your underwear. The sight of your bare thighs made him growl lowly, placing his large palms around your legs, spreading them apart so he could get a better look at your cunt, already so wet that it made your pubic hairs gleam even in the dark room, lit only by the candle flames.

The prince ran his thumb between your folds to collect your essence that was leaking from the little hole, moving his hand up so he could rub your bud. You contorted your body, your drunken state preventing you from waking up for now, but your legs still shook as Aemond's finger increased the pressure applied to your clit.

When your cunt was prepared enough to at least avoid so much pain, Aemond allowed himself to waste considerable time so he could take off all the pieces of clothing he was wearing, his cock already well marked in his braies. He swallowed hard for a moment, undoing the tie and lowering the fabric. After throwing it in any corner of the room, Aemond brought his hand to his mouth to spit on the palm and rub it on his own cock, sighing at the sensation and paying special attention to the pink glans.

He rubbed himself a few times until he was hard enough, then used his free hand to spread your legs even wider. His thumb made gentle circles on your clit again, as he slowly leaned in, entering your tight cunt and letting out a growl at the overwhelming sensation.

"Fuck..." He bit his lip, arching his head up and with his eye closed, resting one hand on your waist and the other remaining caressing your bud.

It took his thick cock a few seconds to fully enter your tight walls, blood dripping from his bottom lip as he bit down to avoid too many sounds, even though your confused whimpers were starting to fill the chambers. “A-Aemond…” You opened your eyes, your vision blurred when you tried to sit up, but too weak to do anything as he thrust into you.

"Shhh, dear aunt..." He opened his one eye, giving you a breathless smirk, rubbing your pearl roughly enough to make you moan with a mixture of fear and pleasure. Gwayne had not given you enough attention during the past months, your body was desperate for any good feeling now. "Am I not making you feel good?"

You fell silent, pathetic whimpers escaping your mouth. You wanted to lie that it was not good, that you were hating it and feeling violated. That he should not do these things. That you loved your husband more than anything in the world. But what would be the point? Aemond had given you absolute certainty that Gwayne was having affairs with random women. That would explain a lot of things, including the lack of sex in your marriage since then.

Your brain was too drunk to reason what made sense and what did not, so you just nodded, affirming the pleasure he was giving you.

"Good girl... Tightening my cock with that pretty tight cunt of yours." The prince smiled with an almost sweet and affectionate way and you blushed innocently, vulnerable from the alcohol. "Do you want to continue, darling?"

You should say no. You should scream with panic for the guards to come and save you, even if no one would go against the Prince Regent's wishes. However, you should try anything to get him out of you, try anything to stop him from contaminating you. You should try to say no, but you don't want to.

"Please, nephew. Keep going..." You whimpered, your hands shaking from the drink going to his muscular shoulders and bringing him closer to you, the head of his cock hitting you deep.

Aemond chuckled at how easily you gave in, every glass of wine being worth it. You moaned beneath him like a dirty whore, but you were still as beautiful and pure like a Goddess, your cheeks flushed, your eyes rolling back in pleasure, your legs shaking... "Oh, my dear... It looks like you really want to keep going." He scoffed and you nodded silently, closing your eyes as the rhythm of his hips began to become more violent. "How about if I give you a little baby? Did you want that, aunt? To carry my heir? To finally be a mother?"

Watching you nodding with confusion and moaning his name was all Aemond needed to fill you with his seed, his cum staining your thighs as he continued fucking you even after his orgasm. He would deal with Gwayne Hightower's fate later. He was the Prince Regent, he could fake an accidental death for his uncle and marry his wife before your belly started to get big and swollen with his baby. Aemond had time to think about what to do. At the moment, all he needed was to make sure your cunt did not waste a single drop of his seed. All he needed was to make sure you were pregnant that night.

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