IN WHICH the daughter of Rapunzel slowly falls in love with the son of Jafar
𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝓎, 𝓂𝓎, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇
jayxoc
on hold
warning, has a lot of swearing and sexual jokes and sex references but no smut because i am a minor and so are the ch...
"I think we should never even attempt to make lemon meringue pie ever again." Jay's voice was firm, tinged with disbelief as he surveyed the disaster zone that was Rhea's kitchen.
It had been five days since their city adventure, and the pair, fueled by a sudden burst of nostalgia and the quiet comfort of each other's company, decided to bake together again. But today's mission—mastering Rapunzel's famously difficult lemon meringue pie—had turned into a spectacular mess.
Rhea, leaning against the counter and wiping a streak of egg white from her cheek, was recalling memories from her childhood. "My mom used to make lemon meringue pie twice a year," she explained, a soft smile on her face despite the chaos. "Once on my birthday and again at Christmas."
Jay raised an eyebrow. "Why only twice a year?"
"It's tricky to make," she said, her voice carrying a hint of reverence for the skill involved. "Mom has so many royal and maternal duties. Plus, this recipe... it's not forgiving. One wrong move, and—" She gestured helplessly at the kitchen ceiling, now decorated with a sticky patch of custard and burnt meringue.
Jay looked up in horror. "Somehow, someway, we managed to get pie filling on the ceiling."
"Why couldn't I just have normal magic powers?" Rhea muttered, voice low and a little frustrated. Jay gave her a stern look, but she went on, sighing. "I know, I know—be grateful for what I've got. But still." She pointed around the kitchen. "This mess? That would've been way easier to clean with some decent magic. Which I'm nominating you to do, by the way, since I'm not standing on that counter in heels."
Yes, heels. The very reason their plans to explore Auradon City today had been postponed. Instead, here they were—covered in flour and egg, surrounded by broken dreams of a perfect pie.
Jay smirked despite himself. "Things I'd do for this girl," he muttered under his breath—quiet enough so Rhea didn't hear.
He grabbed a step stool and gingerly began to clean the ceiling while Rhea tackled the sink, scrubbing stubborn batter from the dishes.
The cleaning took over two hours, with flour dusting the air and sticky patches requiring patient effort to scrub away. But in the midst of the chaos and the laughter that inevitably bubbled up, something else happened—their bond grew even stronger.
"You know," Jay said, leaning down from the step stool with a grin, "this definitely beats just hanging out."
Rhea laughed, a light, carefree sound. "Maybe next time we should just buy a pie."
Jay shook his head, still smiling. "Where's the fun in that?"
Despite the disaster, despite the mess, despite the postponed city trip, the afternoon had been perfect. Because they were together—messy, imperfect, and just right.
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