Newt Scamander Preferences

It was the next day. Newt was still in bed asleep. He had had a busy day working on his book and needed the extra rest. You were planning to go groccery shopping. 

So you decided to quietly make your way to the bathroom and shower. Silently you closed the room's door and turned on the electric shower. Soothing hot water poured from the shower head.

Back in the room, your lover lazily rolled onto his side, finding himself incredibly comfy in between the sheets. He was sure that he could sleep there forever if he was given the choice. He breathed in heavily the heavenly scent on his pillow, shampoo and (your favourite fruit). Your scent. He stretched out his arm, thinking that he could drape it around your waist but his arm connected with more sheets. Opening his heavy-lidded eyes, he found himself alone in your bed. Where were you?

As Newt lay there, he realised that maybe he needed to get up. One, because it was getting late and two, because he was hungry. No, starving. The Magizoologist wondered if you would mind him making pancakes? He knew that you had the ingredients in the pantry. Pulling the covers away, a rather ravishing, topless (I'll let you imagine that image for a moment) Newt exited the bedroom in the search for eggs, milk, butter, salt and self-raising flour.

You added the shampoo to your hair, generatimg soap suds. You loved this particular scent, mainly because it was his favourite. He was always commenting on how good you smelt. You giggled at that thought. Rising the shampoo's redesidue away, you found yourself feeling suddenly ravenous. 

The idea of a filling breakfast was extremely appealing and you also had a good way of burning off the calories, instantly thinking about Newt. Shaking that idea out of your mind, you turned off the water and reached for one of the large, white, fluffy towels hanging on the rail.

Newt was feeling rather proud of himself, he had just made a delectable pile of golden pancakes. Looking down at his appearance, he realised that he was covered in flour. He was such a messy cook. The male decided that he was going to clean himself up before eating. With that idea in mind, he made his way to the bathroom.

Newt reached for the bathroom door.

You unlocked the bathroom door, ready to exit.

Everything happened so quickly but somehow, you had crashed into Newt (who was bare chested with a smattering of flour) and fallen on top of him, your towel just secure around your body.  You were chest to chest, forehead to forehead. You straddling Newt on the floor. The brunette was blushing madly, quite unsure what to say.

He merely stared up at you, trying not to laugh at yoir adorably confused expression. "(Y/N), I've made pancakes, do you want any?"

You glared at him in disbelief, then finally composed yourself. "That sounds delicious."