Mr Love Queen's Choice | Victor Li Short Fics

Baking Cookies

You would think that if Victor needed your help baking cookies, he would at least let you do something simple like measuring the flour or rolling the cookie dough. But no, he clearly said we're making cookies, which doesn't exactly translate to "Victor is doing everything while Y/N just sits and watches him like a useless sack of potatoes". One might even argue that the potatoes hold a much higher value than yourself but that's an argument for another day.

To be fair, you did, after many attempts of pleading and whining, persuade him to let you participate in the cookie cutting. As much of an incompetent person you are, you have successfully made both chicken soup and porridge on the same day, while Victor decided to be useless and stay in bed. Not that either of those is worth bragging about in the first place. He did finally give in and handed you a knife.

Why a knife? Rich kid Victor apparently does not own any cookie cutters in his apartment, so both of you had to try your best to cut the cookies into festive shapes with a knife. But your cookie turned out better than Victor's, which is considered a win.

"I told you your cookies were gonna suck ass. Like what even is that?" You picked up a cookie that was supposed to be in the shape of Christmas stocking. It deformed while baking, which was his excuse, even though it didn't look like one in the first place. "A condom? It's Christmas, Victor, not Sexmas."

"Shut up." Victor rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears began to redden as he tried to distract himself by focusing on decorating the cookies.

"Are you blushing? How cute," you cooed, trying to pipe a snowflake cookie as nicely as you could but your trembling hands were being very uncooperative. What was supposed to look like a snowflake turned into a spiderweb instead.

"I shouldn't be expecting less from an idiot like you." He turned to look at your cookie and scoffed. And like the perfect human being he was, Victor proceeded to pipe out horrifyingly straight lines on his snowflake cookie, adding sugar pearls on top for a finish. "This is what a cookie looks like, not...that."

You rolled your eyes at the intimidating cookie, half-tempted to slap it out of his hand so it would fall onto the floor and shatter, like your hopes and dream after this cookie existed.

"Ok, boomer."

"You do realise I'm younger than you."

"Stop distracting me, Victor." Your next attempt at piping a face on your snowman cookie went just as terribly, but at least this time you could blame it on Victor staring at your determined face. It's not fair that all of Victor's cookies looked pretty and fit the aesthetic while yours just looked like a 5-year-old made them. Even your snowman was frowning at your handiwork.

"I can teach you how to pipe."

"No thanks, my cookies are perfectly fine without your help."

"They look like a 5-year-old made them."

Groaning in defeat, you flung the piping bag onto the counter, letting Victor rescue your disgrace of a cookie. Its red icing started to leak out of the bag, which was precisely what your heart felt like at that particular moment.

You, however, did not expect this when Victor said he would help you. Victor stood behind you, picking up the piping bag and covering it with your hands, which was then wrapped by his large, firm hands.

"Watch closely," he whispered into your ears, leaning forward so his head was right next to yours as he carefully piped an intricate pattern onto a bauble-shaped cookie.

"Y-yes..." You gasped at the sudden lift of your hand moving onto another spot on the cookie, followed by Victor squeezing your hand, not that hard but just enough to let the silky icing flow onto the cookie, forming a thin zigzag line across the bauble.