Surviving the Apocalypse: All I Want Is to Find a Husband-Chapter 197: The Special Motivation

"At least you’re trying to help me," Medeia huffed. "Unlike the system."

[Host, you’re lying again!]

’Shut up and let me enjoy this moment!’

Lucian chuckled softly and reached out, brushing a bit of flour off her cheek with his thumb. His touch was gentle, lingering just a little longer than necessary. "Alright, let’s do this together," he said, smiling.

Medeia opened her mouth, then closed it again. For a second, she forgot what she was supposed to say. Why did he always have to overwhelm her with his sweetness? "I—I believe in you, honey!" she blurted out.

He reached for the ingredients, carefully measuring the flour while Medeia mixed the butter and sugar. Unlike before, she actually felt a little less frustrated with Lucian beside her.

"Okay, now we need to knead the dough," Lucian said. He guided her hands, his fingers gently wrapping around hers as they pressed the dough together. The warmth of his touch sent an unexpected shiver down Medeia’s spine.

He stood behind her, their position making it look as if he was embracing her. His warm breath brushed against her ear, sending heat creeping up her cheeks.

"A-Am I doing it right?" Medeia asked, trying to ease the tension between them.

"You’re fine." Then, he suddenly whispered something completely unexpected, "It’s actually quite simple. Just think of it like you’re kneading me."

"Lucian!" She spun around so fast she nearly smacked him with her elbow. Her face was burning. "Are you here to help me bake or to fuck me on the table?!"

Lucian blinked innocently. "Of course, I’m here to help you bake." But before she could scold him, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against her lips. When he pulled back, he was grinning. "But maybe ... we can continue this after the pie is done baking."

Medeia could tease Lucian all day and night, but the second he turned the tables on her, she was a goner. Her knees suddenly felt weak, and keeping a straight face became impossibly difficult.

"L-Let’s just focus on baking the pie for now," she stammered, snapping her attention back to the dough in a desperate attempt to regain her composure.

Why the hell was he suddenly acting like this? Had killing those soldiers turned him on?

[Host, your demon appearance has turned him on.]

Medeia froze.

Her demon appearance?

Her fucking demon appearance with horns, fangs, and sharp nails? Sure, she knew she was hot, but still ... she didn’t expect this to be his thing.

No wonder his eyes kept drifting toward her horns earlier. Did he want to touch them? Pull them? Or what?

Medeia shook her head, forcing herself to shove the thought away. Focus on baking the damn pie, she scolded herself. There’d be plenty of time to test this new discovery later.

But how the hell was she supposed to focus when Lucian kissed her cheek every damn five minutes? It felt like he was more interested in tasting her than the blueberry pie.

’Lucian, your mom’s pie is watching us right now!’

’I’m sorry, mother-in-law, but your son secretly has a weird demon fetish.’

Thankfully, Lucian finally calmed down after Medeia accidentally—or maybe not so accidentally—spilled a glass of ice-cold water onto his pants.

"Oh no, I’m sorry, let me—" Medeia reached for a towel, moving to pat his pants dry, but Lucian’s hand shot out, stopping her.

"No, it’s fine," he said, his voice a little tight. A second later, he used his ability to evaporate the water instantly, took a deep breath, then turned back to the pie filling like nothing happened.

The boner was gone, right?

"Do you want to try it?" Lucian asked with a bright smile, scooping up some blueberry filling with a spoon and holding it out to Medeia’s lips.

Yeah, the monster had finally left, and now her sunshine was back.

Without a word, Medeia leaned in and took the spoon into her mouth, her tongue grazing the surface before she slowly pulled away. She absentmindedly licked the lingering sweetness off her lips. "It’s a little sour, but really delicious!"

When she looked up, Lucian was frozen in place, his gaze fixed on her lips.

... The boner was back?!

Because of that?! Just because she licked her damn lips?!

This was bad. Really bad. It seemed like Lucian’s boner was stubborn enough to stay if they didn’t do something about it.

But they still had to finish baking the damn pie, and if they got too carried away, the system would cut the broadcast, meaning their watchers wouldn’t get to see their wholesome couple moments.

How could Medeia receive gifts from them if they couldn’t see what they were doing?

Medeia leaned in, lowering her voice to a sultry whisper. "Lucian, if you finish the pie quickly ... maybe we can sneak in a quickie."

She expected him to at least pretend to have some self-control. Maybe he’d scoff, brush it off, deny that he was that desperate.

But instead, he tilted his head slightly, voice dropping an octave as he asked, "The table will do?"

Medeia wasn’t expecting that, but she still nodded. "That works. As long as you clean up the mess first."

Lucian’s lips curled into a smile, his voice coming out low and rough. "I can do that quickly."

Who would’ve thought that a simple baking session would turn into this just because Lucian apparently had a thing for her demon form?

However, with such a big motivation, Medeia managed to make Lucian finish the blueberry pie in under an hour. Even the system was impressed by how fast he could bake it.

[Ding! Ding! Quest Completed: Make a dessert that reminds him of his childhood (Grade-A)]

[Double Reward: 1,400 C-points // 1,800 XP // 1,200 gold coins]

[Gaining The Watchers Impression by 80%]

[Reward: +10,000 XP]

What the hell?! How did she gain that much XP just by entertaining the watchers?! If she had known this earlier, she would’ve put way more effort into winning their hearts!

[Congratulations! You have reached—]

The system didn’t even get to finish its announcement before Lucian crashed his lips against hers, pushing her back onto the table. With one swift motion, he swept aside all the ingredients cluttering the surface, letting the blueberry pie sit forgotten inside the now-cool oven.

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