— ᨳଓ . Bound by Sweet Syrup - henry creel/mr. whatsit x reader
a/n: for all my henry fluff lovers! yall said you wanted more of him, and so did i, so i made more of him for us all 😌 i hope this brings you joy today, writing it definitely made me veryyy happy.
content/warnings: fluff, sfw, gn reader BUT henry uses sweetheart, dear, sweet, etc. no pronouns are used. reader loves mötley crüe (personal spice added no sorries 🤭) and acts less traditionally than most henry x readers do, they're more contrasting to henry if that makes sense. they're very head over heels for one another and reader calls henry sexy, that's really it!
wc: 1.1k
𑣲⋆。˚
You put yourself onto your tippy toes, reaching for the knob of the kitchen cupboard. After struggling for far too long, you slump back down onto your heels. "Henry..!" You call out into the room adjacent to the kitchen, where Henry usually tends to his work. "Yes, dear?" You peak around the doorframe, smiling with an innocent facade. "I need the measuring glass, and it's in the obnoxiously high cupboard above the fridge. I need you." He chuckles softly, removing his glasses and putting them on his desk before rising to follow. "Of course." He murmurs contently. You grab his hand to usher him into the kitchen, and gesture him to crouch down. You sit yourself upon his shoulders, before he carefully starts to rise. Henry knows that you're reluctant to ask for help, so he's grown a routine of giving you boosts rather than doing something for you. He could certainly pull down the measuring glass on his own, but he knows you'd much rather have the chance to receive it yourself. He tightens his grip on your thighs as you reach into the cupboard, and lowers you back to the floor after you've gotten what you need. Your feet hit the tile and Henry gently brushes your clothes back into place. "What is it that my love is up to this morning?" He asks, smiling down at you. You grin excitedly, spinning your way around the counter. "Chocolate banana pancakes... you should help me." He exhales happily through his nose, humming in response. "I suppose I could make the time... Anything for you, of course." You clap your hands excitedly, immediately organizing the ingredients. "Turn the stove on, and grease the pans as well... please." He smirks, immediately going to perform your tasks with grace. To anyone else, Henry has a chilling, controlling presence to him. With you, he's embarrassingly obedient. He loves being bossed around by you, as ironic as the fact is.
While he preps the pans, you go to play music on your recently recorded cassette tape. Of course the most complementary artist to Henry's elegant, welcoming home would be none other than Mötley Crüe. You can hear him chuckle as the music starts to play. It's always been one of his favorite things about the both of you, how much contrast there is between you and him. Before you, his environment was constantly collected, simple, and composed. You came along and filled his space with a unique, fun-loving sparkle. He noticed it in small things, like your clothes amongst his, the scent of your perfume throughout the halls, and of course, your music blasting in every room. He never thought it would be something he welcomed into his life, but now it's something he needs. Henry watches as you crack the eggs into a bowl, a familiar warmth spreading across his chest and enveloping his gaze, toasty flames sparking in his eyes. Putting the last pan aside, he gets eager to feel your skin against his. When he approaches, you feel a soft breath against the back of your neck, and the secure grip of his arms come around your ribs. He nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "You smell so very sweet." He mumbles, pressing lazy kisses against your shoulder. A pleasant chill makes its way up your spine, spreading across your shoulder blades and casuing you to sink back against his chest.
You stay cozied up against eachother up until the mixing process is complete. As soon as he lifts himself off your back, you turn to slap a dollop of batter upon his nose. He raised his brows, hands immediately clamping around your wrists before you can try to escape. "You want to start that game with me, darling?" His voice is scarily calm, and you're already regretting your choices. "Wait, wait, no, don't-" In the next moments, all you can feel is the pinching and poking all over your body. Henry knows your biggest weakness is how unbelievably tickilish you are, and he loves to use it to his advantage. You giggle, laugh, and even try to bite at him, and he concludes his acts before they can become too much. You catch your breath and fold your arms in defiance while he has a sickening look of pleasure across his face. He swipes the batter off his nose and licks his finger clean before smirking up at you. "You know I'll always win." He winks, and you roll your eyes, but you can't help but smile. You adore his antics, and how sexy it is that he knows you so well. You shake your head, smiling as he tucks your disarray of hair back into place.
Despite distracting each other with kisses and taste tests, you guys finally finish up the pancakes. You go to set the table while Henry cleans the dishes. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, cleaning each dish with precision, as he does with everything else. Your eyes watch his every gesture from behind, grazing his hair to his feet. You almost miss the table while putting his plate down, completely distracted to a point where you're nearly embarrassed. "I can feel you staring, you know..." Damn it. Your cheeks instantly erupt a flush pink, and you go back to setting the table like nothing happened. "Don't know what you're talking about. Just setting the table." You clear your throat, huffing out a laugh. So subtle, huh? "Oh, is that so?" He hums, shutting off the faucet and wiping his palms on a cloth. He exits the room and returns with his glasses resting on his nose. He comes close, panifully close, and studies your face. You don't know how to keep eye contact under his scrutiny. The heat is already creeping back onto your face. "Ah ah, look at me, dear..." You oblige. As difficult as it is, you eat it up. His striking eyes bore into yours, a loving tease hiding behind his irises. "Mmh, just as I thought. You're blushing, are you not?" He smiles softly, the heat only blazing higher. "No, Henry. You're- you're crazy." He nods in response, bringing his palm to rest against the meeting of your neck and your jaw. He leans in and presses a hot, lingering kiss against your lips. Your breath stutters when he pulls away, just a centimeter. He notices, of course, because he always notices. Lips pressed towards your ear, you're already smiling down at the ground before he speaks. "There's nothing you can hide from me, sweetheart."
𑣲⋆。˚













