As the years went on and you grew older, you became more adept in your skills. Everyone loved the treats you made; people would pay you to cater sweets to their birthday parties and the like. You’d often get compliments at work; many times children would fawn over your creations and beg their parents to buy more of your delectable goodies. You were undoubtedly a very skilled pastry chef, especially at your young age.
So why was it that your most frequent customer never tasted any of them?
You didn’t know his name, not for sure, all you really knew about him was that he was some sort of businessman and his favourite place to stop by in the morning was the café you worked at. He’d
(Norway x Reader)
The wind was unbearably cold. That's what normal people would say, at least. But not you. No, not the all-mighty [Name], never! You blinked, trying to keep your eyes just moist enough, trying to keep in the tears that the frostbitten wind wanted to get out of your eyes. You weren't going to let that happen.
You hurried through the busy streets, holding onto a bag which was tightly pressed against your chest. Your scarf's loose ends whipping through the wind, you tried your best not to let go of your precious cargo. Your face lit up as you spotted a very familiar house, the one you needed to go to, actually.
You climbed up the stairs to the front porch, and knocked on the door, as you slightly moved your body to try and warm it up during the short wait. Finally, the door opened, revealing a blonde, navy blue-eyed teen. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him, like it ways did, actually. He nodded and gestured you to come inside. You smiled at him an