HufflepuffHolland's Writing Collection

Sweet // Harrison Osterfield

By Hufflepuffholland on Tumblr

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield + Gender Neutral!Reader

Summary: Based off Harrison making pancakes, except it isn't for a video, it's for the reader!
Warnings: Sexual innuendos?

Notes: ultimate Harrison girl; .

-

You scanned the aisles, looking back at your phone to check the list Harrison had texted you. You looked back into your cart—new pack of flour, sugar, baking soda. He didn't tell you what he was making, he just asked you if you could go to the store for him this morning, after your shower. You and he were being given some time alone while Tom and Harry had left you in Canada. You walked toward the cashier line, hearing your phone go off. You looked down to see Harrison calling you.

"Don't forget the sugar—make sure it's the medium-sized one, at least." You rolled your eyes, a smile making its way on your face as you picked up a Twix bar as you waited in line.

"I know, babe. I got it. Don't worry. What are you making, again?"

"Pancakes!" Your eyebrows pulled in, pulling your phone away from your ear and then putting it back so you could speak to him.

"At almost four in the afternoon?"

"Give me lip and you won't get any, love." You laughed lightly, giving the cashier a smile as a greeting.

"Whatever. I'll see you in a few, I'm about to pay." He made a dramatic kissing sound before you hung up, pulling out your card and getting ready to swipe it as the cashier finished ringing you up.

-

"Babe?" You heard him slightly yell, In the kitchen! before you closed the door. He ran toward the door, remembering you had bags, and greeted you there. He took the bags out of your hands, and leaned down, kissing you too quickly that he missed, kissing the corner of your mouth instead.

"You're a life savor, love." Harrison's eyes scanned his phone as he read the ingredients, nodding as he mentally checked them off. "Shit," he muttered, snapping his fingers in disappointment. "I forgot to ask for salt." He walked over to the cabinet, letting his eyes dart around it briefly before he shrugged. "We only have garlic salt—that won't work, right?" You made a disgusted expression, causing Harrison to scoff. "A simple 'no', would've been enough... you don't need salt for pancakes, right? Who puts pancakes in salt." He closed his eyes, thumping his head softly. "I mean, who puts salt in pancakes? That's gross."

"You gonna cook for me, or talk to yourself the whole time?" He smiled, walking over to where you sat on the countertop, resting his hands on either side of you and settling between your legs.

"You look very pretty today; did I happen to tell you that?" You smiled, shrugging as you draped your arms over his shoulders, connecting your hands behind him.

"You happened to mention it this morning before—and after—my shower." He leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter so you were pressed against his stomach, your legs wrapping around him now, too, loosely crossed around him.

"Can't fight off facts, I suppose." He muttered. He brought a hand up to your chin, pulling you down gently and kissing you softly. He meant for it to be a small, innocent kiss but, then you tightened your legs around his waist and brought your hands back to his hair, tugging on the ends softly. "If you want to continue where we left off this morning," he mumbled against your lips, letting his fall to your collar and sucking on your skin lightly, "all you have to do is say the words." You smirked, grabbing his face and pulling him in as if you were going to kiss him, only to whisper against them instead.

"I was promised pancakes." You smiled, pushing him away from you with your hand on his chest, leaping off the counter and walking around it to sit on one of the bar stools. He looked at you with his mouth slightly fallen open, shaking his head to bring him out of his daze. He narrowed his eyes, placing a hand on his chest where his heart was.

"I'm wounded. And, by that, I mean my ego is." You laughed, which he ignored as he went to get a bowl.

-

"Okay, okay," he mumbled to himself, looking at the cup and the opened packs of ingredients around him. You watched as he mindlessly poured sloppily measured ingredients into the bowl. You shook your head, wondering why he wasn't using a measuring cup.

"Why don't you use a measuring cup?" You asked before he could pour sugar into his coffee mug. He looked at you, then to his mug, shrugging.

"This is the same thing," he took his hand, pointing a finger and putting it against his head, "photographic memory. I know all the measurement marks up here. I just envision them on this cup." You looked at him in disbelief, shaking your head but letting him continue what he was doing. He looked into the cup again, doubting himself for just a moment before shrugging and picking up the sugar, pouring more than a good amount into it.

"That seems excessive." You hadn't meant for it to come out, but he heard you loud and clear. "You're giving me a toothache." He smirked, not looking up at you.

"It's probably because you just kissed me—I've been told I'm pretty sweet." You laughed out loud, rolling your eyes as he added the final ingredient – and egg.

"You know," he started, moving toward the drawers behind him, "most people use a fork—Tom, Harry, my mum; me? I'm a whisk man." You just shook your head. You were in love with an absolute idiot.

"Haz? I love you but, shut up and mix it, I'm starving." He chuckled, going back to the mix. He lifted the whisk, seeing the batter look runny. Was it supposed to be like that? He shrugged, why not? He lifted the milk anyway, pouring more into the batter. You got up off the stool, walking over to him. "Wow," you nodded approvingly at the batter, leaning down to smell it. "Smells and looks good, Haz."

"Dammit," he muttered, causing you to look up at him, "I got the fucking batter everywhere." He was about to walk over to the sink to wash his hands, when you stopped him from doing so. "I'm just gonna wash my hands, then I'll make the pancakes, baby." You silently grabbed his hand, ignoring his confused look as you lifted his hand to your mouth. You felt his forearm flex under your hand, knowing his body tensed because he'd realized what you were doing. You took the finger that was covered in batter, slowly letting your mouth close around it, sucking the mix off.

"Mmm," you hummed, taking his finger out to move to his other finger, letting your tongue out and watching through your eyelashes while it ran over the length of his hand. His eyes traced the path your tongue made, his teeth slowly sinking into his lower lip. You pulled away from his hand, smiling at him innocently. "Sweet." You whispered, turning to walk away. His hand quickly reached out for yours, tugging you and forcing you to follow him toward the bathroom. "Harrison! What about the food?"

He shook his head, not turning around to look at you. "That's not what I'm hungry for, darling."