Helltaker one shots

Burnt Pancakes & Morning Kisses

The soft click of the stove knob broke the early morning silence. You carefully ignited the left burner, the flame flickering to life with a quiet whoosh. Moving with practiced caution, you placed the pan on the heat, slow and steady, not wanting to wake her—not yet.

Lucy had pulled another all-nighter. You knew she'd barely slept, and today, you wanted to surprise her. A small act of love. Something warm. Sweet. Simple.

You poured the pancake batter into the pan, letting the mixture settle as you pulled out your phone and began scrolling absentmindedly through your socials. The kitchen smelled of flour and faint vanilla, the silence only broken by the low sizzle of batter turning golden.

After a few minutes, the first pancake was ready to be flipped. You tried to be gentle, slow with your movements—but the spatula slipped, and it landed back in the pan with a loud, awkward flop. You winced, holding your breath.

Had she heard that?

A few tense seconds passed. Nothing. No stirring from the bedroom. No groggy footsteps. You exhaled in relief, then smiled to yourself. She must still be asleep.

You dropped a few blueberries into the next round of batter and started cooking a chocolate chip pancake alongside it. Your grin widened. She was going to love this. Breakfast in bed—for Lucy, your night owl turned morning miracle.

But just as you leaned in to check the edges of the pancake, you felt arms slide gently around your waist.

"Damn it," you muttered, smiling despite yourself. "I wanted this to be a surprise."

Lucy's voice was soft against your back. "You don't have to do that for me. I can help cook."

You turned to face her, catching the tired glimmer in her eyes. Without thinking, you pulled her into a hug. She resisted for a heartbeat, maybe two—but then she melted into your chest, snuggling her face into your neck.

She was small—so much shorter than you—and you had to lean down just to wrap around her fully. And in that embrace, everything slowed. She tilted her chin up, and your lips met in a quiet kiss, warm and unhurried.

She jumped into your arms, legs wrapped tightly around your waist. You held her easily. The pancake sizzled in the background, but neither of you noticed. She didn't care. Not in this moment.

Eventually, your lips parted, and the smell hit you.

Burnt.

The radio was still on, playing something soft and slow. She took your hands and slid them behind her back, lacing her fingers with yours as she swayed gently. Her forehead rested against your chest, and you began to dance—barefoot, slow, aimless. Across the kitchen. Through the hallway. Into the living room.

The world faded until only the two of you remained. You collapsed together onto the couch, and the music played on.

She looked into your eyes, and you into hers.

Another kiss.

But then—

Sniff.

Something was definitely burning.

Your eyes widened. "The pancake!"

You bolted back into the kitchen and flipped the forgotten mess in the pan. The entire bottom side was black.

"Lucy!" you groaned.

She peeked around the corner, eyes wide but amused. "How can you blame me when you're such a good kisser?"

You laughed despite yourself. "You're right."

The ruined pancake went into the trash. The survivors—blueberry, chocolate chip, and classic—were stacked high on a plate, syrup drizzled with careful flourish. You presented it to her with the grace of a five-star waiter, kissed her forehead, and slipped off to shower.

Time Skip

You stepped out of the bathroom, hair still damp, towel over your shoulder—only to be tackled to the floor by a blur of silver and laughter.

"Lucy—what the—?"

Before you could sit up, she pinned you down, straddling your legs and trapping your wrists beneath her knees. In her hand was a fork, and on the fork, a bite of blueberry pancake.

"Open up," she demanded.

"I'm not even hungry—"

Her eyes flashed crimson. Her silver-white hair began to lift as if caught in an invisible wind. You blinked.

"...Fine, fine."

You opened your mouth. She fed you the bite with a smug smile.

You chewed slowly, then nodded. "Mmm. This is good."

"Exactly." Her voice softened. "I love you."

You reached up, cupping her cheek with your now-freed hand. "I love you too."

Later, the day passed without incident. Work came and went, time blurred in the way peaceful days often do.

And when night fell, the two of you were curled up in bed once more—her head resting beneath your chin, silver hair splayed across your chest as she nuzzled into your neck, your arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

Sleep came easy. Love made sure of that.