On The Fifth Day Of Christmas

On the fifth day of Christmas…

𝔄 𝔓𝔲𝔫𝔨 ℜ𝔬𝔠𝔨 ℭ𝔥𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔪𝔞𝔰

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Hobie Brown x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔥 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛1.5K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ It’s time to decorate the tree, although it’s not going according to plan. You had the perfect idea of how a Christmas tree should look. However, your boyfriend, Hobie, had other ideas. You both begin to argue and it seems to be going no where. Words are said and feelings get hurt. Will you be able to fix this?

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Guys, I can confirm that Hobie is just a big kid on the inside. But while some might think he’s spewing nonsense, he might actually have a point. I hope you enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

“No, Hobes! It doesn’t go there.” I swat Hobie’s hand away from the tree as he attempts to place one of his Star Wars ornaments in the center. It's Christmas Eve and Hobie and I are facing off in front of a pile of decorations. This familiar argument about how to decorate the tree is playing out for what feels like the millionth time. My preference leans towards a more structured and organized aesthetic, while Hobie leans towards a free and chaotic approach, arguing that an orderly tree is a submission to capitalism.

“Right, how 'bout this, then?” Hobie holds up some blue tinsel, and I immediately push his hands away from the tree once again.

"I'm not putting that on the tree, Hobie. It goes gold and then red! Blue shouldn’t be anywhere near this tree." I explain while wrapping the red tinsel around the tree. Hobie rolls his eyes.

“What’s the issue? Blue’s a good color.” He throws his hands up, looking at me incredulously. Ignoring him, I continue sorting through the decorations for matching ornaments.

“Oh, so you're just gonna let the suits dictate your every move, huh? You gonna let the capitalist drones run your life?" Hobie accuses, snatching the tinsel from my hands and wrapping it the opposite way.

"Oh, don't start that, Hobie. I just want our tree to look nice and neat this year." I argue, reclaiming the tinsel and wrapping it correctly. Hobie persists, emphasizing his disdain for conforming to holiday traditions dictated by corporations.

“Yeah, you're just a conformist sheep, ain't ya? No clue what's really goin' on, just followin' the herd. Wake up, man!” He says angrily, wrapping the tinsel even more so. He looks at me as if I am completely clueless.

"Conformist to what? Santa Claus's evil agenda?" I mock, yanking the tinsel out of his hands. Hobie snickers, but he doesn’t look impressed.

“The corporations are manipulating the spirit of Christmas, so you’ll buy presents! Can’t you see that, you wanker?”

"Who gives a damn? It's Christmas for Christ's sake!" I throw my hands up and it seems our conversation is getting out of hand. Hobie scrunches up his nose as the argument escalates.

“Exactly! It’s Christmas! The day when you’re supposed to be spending time with people you love, not maxing out your credit card on useless junk. Can't blame ya, it's that corporate mind game. Same goes for Valentine's Day—just another cash grab, man!” He starts to enter into his rant about how Valentine’s Day is pointless. Ignoring his conspiracy theories, I redirect our focus.

"Don't even start! Listen, we're not putting your stupid Star Wars ornaments on the tree and that's final. Now stop arguing and hand me those angel ornaments, will you?" I huff as I hold out my hand, determined to maintain order.

“These Star Wars ornaments are rad! Come on, just a little—” Hobie protests, attempting to convince me to allow at least one Star Wars ornament. "How 'bout just the Baby Yoda? Stick it in the back, it'll be lowkey." I sigh, contemplating the idea for a moment.

"Fine, you can put it right there." I relent, pointing to the spot on the tree. Hobie's face immediately lights up when I give in and allow him to put a baby Yoda ornament up, near the back. Despite his punk rock appearance, he actually has a soft side.

"Cheers, luv," Hobie smiles at me. He quickly unwraps the baby Yoda ornament and carefully placed it where I pointed, and then steps back to admire the result. I cringe at the way it clashes with my previous work.

“So what do you think?” He asks, looking over at me. I don’t really respond, instead looking off to the side. Hobie’s smile begins to fade when he realizes that I am unimpressed by the result of his handiwork.

“What’s wrong with it?” His facial expression turns into one of confusion. “I think it turned out pretty nice,” He said, defending his choice of decoration.

"It doesn't match, Hobes. It looks out of place like I knew it would." I grumble, crossing my arms. Hobie looks at me, genuinely hurt, and his expression turns sad.

"Sorry, luv..." He apologizes, his voice soft and sincere. "I just thought it would be cool... But I guess I don't know anything about aesthetics." He puts his hands in his pockets and lowers his head. He seems genuinely upset that I didn't like his contribution. Hobie turns away from me, deflated as he walks out of the room. I feel a twinge of guilt as I turn to look back at the tree.

His shoulders are hunched up and he is obviously disappointed. As he leaves the room, he mutters, "Stupid Christmas tree..." under his breath. I can't help but feel a bit guilty as I continue to look at the tree.

I stare at it, watching the out-of-place ornament, and thinking, 'Is it really worth it?' I just made a whole argument out of something we were meant to be doing together. I'd put my need for perfection over my own boyfriend and now he's upset. And why? Because some baby Yoda ornament didn't match my idea of what a Christmas tree should look like.

It really clicks in my head. Hobie wasn't just being a nonconformist or trying to ruin the tree. He was trying to have fun with his girlfriend and decorate the tree in a way that shows both of our creativity. I sigh as I turn away from the tree and run to the kitchen to where Hobie is.

"Hobie? Babe?" I find him sitting at the kitchen table with his back towards me. He seems to be focused on something, probably sulking. I call his name again and he slowly turns to look at me.

"Yeah, luv?" He asks, trying to sound cool and nonchalant, but his hurt expression betrays him. I sit across from him and look into his eyes. He avoids my gaze. I place my hand gently on his and bite my lip as I try to find words.

"Hobie, I'm sorry." I start. Hobie feels a wave of relief wash over him when I apologize. He looks up at me and his expression softens. He's clearly still hurt, but he seems much more relaxed knowing that I still care about his feelings.

"It's alright, luv," Hobie replies, giving my hand a little squeeze as he looks into my eyes. "I might've gone a bit overboard, I get it. The Christmas vibes hit me hard, you know? Just wanted to make it extra special 'cause I know it's a big deal for you. And-" He pauses as I press my finger to his lips.

"No, Hobie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, or tried to shut down your ideas. This isn't my home and that isn't my tree. It's our home and our tree. And it should reflect both of our creativity, not just what I think it should." Hobie's face brightens as I say that. He is a bit taken aback by my admission, but also really appreciates it. His expression turns into a smile as he stands up, pulling me with him.

"That's... really sweet, luv." He says in a soft voice and pulls me into a warm hug. "And you're right, this is our home, and it should reflect both of our tastes." He pauses and then speaks again in a more playful tone. "Even if you have bad taste."

I push away from the hug, feigning a look of offense as I playfully swat his shoulder. "I do not have bad taste!" Hobie pulls me back in and leans in to kiss my lips.

"Yes, you do. But at least you're pretty to look at." He says in a joking manner, then gives me another kiss. His lips press against mine with a tender and passionate intensity. His tongue brushes along my lips momentarily before he pulls his head back, keeping his lips close to mine.

"So, do you wanna take a break from decorating the tree and, you know...?" He trails off suggestively with a smirk and I laugh, rolling my eyes.

"Babe! We need to finish the tree!" I manage to say between giggles as I try to escape his grip. He doesn't let me pull away, instead he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Tree's not going anywhere, luv. We can decorate it tomorrow." Hobie mumbles against my skin, kissing my neck and starts walking towards our bedroom.

"But tomorrow's Christmas!" I shout before the door slams shut.

Happy New Year, Lovelies!🎊🎆

I have so much stuff I’m nervous to post because I think no one will like it or even glance at it. But we miss 100% of the shots we don’t take right?

“everyone is going to hate it” someone will love it. someone will reach out to you and tell you it changed their life. someone will hold it close and treasure it forever in a way you can’t even understand. keep going

I hate to admit it, but this account definitely is one of my many hyper fixations. Enjoy me while you can😭😅

On the seventh day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔱. 𝟑

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff, angst

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 5.8K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Naomi and Ashanti get into it and things go downhill. Thankfully, Michael is there to save the day and cheer Naomi up. They end up getting a bit closer than expected. Later on, Naomi learns why Ashanti is the way she is.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Listen, I know y'all have your opinions about Ashanti, but all I'm gonna say is, never judge a book by its cover. Also I literally had to stop myself from melting while writing this chapter! I hope you guys enjoy!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Part 2 Here

"Wow! Okay, I think it's obvious that's the winner right there." James says in surprise.

"What can I say? We've just got that creative touch." I say, putting my elbow on the snowman. Unfortunately, it wasn't packed together sturdy enough and my added weight caused it to crumble and me to fall on top of it.

"Naomi!" Ashanti shouts, annoyed that I ruined the snowman. Michael rushes over to help me up as Dan, Teresa, and James all laugh at the sight. Michael is laughing a bit too, but he makes sure I'm okay and pulls me to my feet. I brush snow off my bottom and chuckle at my clumsiness.

"Oh shit, I didn't mean for that to happen." I rub my neck sheepishly and look over at Ashanti, who looks livid. "You okay, Ashanti?"

"No! I'm not okay! You always ruin everything!" She shouts angrily. We all look at her in confusion, wondering where this all came from.

"What do you mean? I thought we were having fun." I respond, attempting to diffuse the tension.

"No, you're always stealing the spotlight!" She retorts, her voice sharp.

"Whoa, calm down, Ashanti. She didn't mean to ruin the snowman." Michael intervenes, trying to ease the escalating situation. But Ashanti, fueled by jealousy and frustration, continues her tirade.

"No, Michael! She's always stealing the spotlight! Trying to be the center of attention with her stupid ideas," Ashanti crosses her arms as I stare at her, taken aback by the sudden outburst.

"Stupid ideas? This was supposed to be a fun activity. Why are you so upset?" I question, trying to understand.

"Because you always have to be the special one, don't you? You can't stand anyone else getting attention," She accuses, her eyes narrowing. "Always pretending to be all cute and clumsy, always trying to be the one everyone likes. It's pathetic, really." Her words cut deeper than expected. The atmosphere grows tense, and I feel a mixture of hurt and anger welling up inside me. Michael and Dan exchange uneasy glances, unsure what to do. Teresa tries to calm the situation.

"Come on, guys, let's not do this here. Let's just go back to having fun." She says, trying to hype us up again, but to no avail.

"No, she needs to hear this, Teresa. You can act innocent all you want, Naomi, but you're not fooling me. Everyone falls for your act, but I see right through it. You're manipulative, Naomi. Always trying to make people sorry for you." I glance at Daniel, hoping for support, but he seems caught in the middle, unsure of how to navigate this awkward conversation.

"Enough, both of you." James interjects, trying to diffuse. "You're ruining this for all of us with this unnecessary drama."

"It's not unnecessary, James. She needs to hear the truth," Ashanti retorts, her anger only growing.

"The truth? You're making baseless accusations and I'm just supposed to sit back and take it? Hell no." I fire back, my frustration boiling over.

"Baseless? Look at you, falling around like a toddler, trying to make Michael feel sorry for you. You're always playing the victim. And he's been falling for it all day," She sneers, gesturing towards Michael.

"That's not fair, Ashanti. Naomi hasn't done anything wrong," Michael finally speaks up, unable to stand her bashing me. Ashanti looks offended.

"Of course, you'd defend her. You always seem to prefer her over me," She accuses, her jealousy showing.

"I'm not choosing anyone. But I won't stand here while you attack her for things that obviously make you insecure."

"Michael, can't you see she doesn't care about anyone but herself? She's only pretending to be this interesting, edgy girl because that's the only way people can notice her. Quite frankly, it's disappointing you can't see how she's trying to manipulate you to not like me."

"That's enough!" I snap, unable to contain my anger any longer. "If I make you so miserable and you can't stand to be around me so much, why don't you just leave?" The silence is loud as she glares at me, before huffing.

"Fine! Maybe I will!" She turns and stomps off angrily, leaving the group in an awkward silence. I grunt in frustration as I watch her leave.

"Naomi, maybe you should go after her." James suggests, trying to be a voice of reason.

"No, I'm done playing her games. She wants to walk away? Fine," I reply, my tone strong. "Maybe she'll finally realize everything isn't about her."

"I'll go after her." Teresa says, leaving to follow her cousin. Dan puts a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"You didn't deserve that, Naomi. She's just... I don't know what her deal is." He says with a sigh.

"I don't know, maybe there's something else going on that we don't know about." James suggests, shrugging his shoulders.

"The audacity she has to accuse me of all that stuff, when I've had to put up with that from her since we were kids!" I frown angrily, my hands clenching again.

"Let's just take our minds off that for now. We can't let it ruin our whole day. How about we explore the market a bit more?" Dan suggests and James and Michael nod in agreement. Reluctantly, I agree, realizing that dwelling on negativity won't do me any good.

As we start to walk through the market, the vibrant lights and festive atmosphere fail to fully lift my spirits. The encounter with Ashanti keeps replaying in my mind, leaving me feeling a mix of frustration and hurt. I trail behind the boys and Michael slows down until he's walking beside me.

"Don't believe any of what she said, Naomi. She's just projecting onto you and that's not fair." He speaks softly. I sigh and glance up at him.

"I know, but it's still frustrating," I admit. His presence offers me some comfort, a reminder that not everyone interprets situations like how Ashanti did.

Meanwhile, Teresa catches up with Ashanti, finding a quieter section of the market where the snowfall adds a serene touch to the surroundings.

"What do you want, T?" Ashanti snaps, her frustration still evident.

"Just checking on you. What happened back there?" Teresa inquires, genuinely concerned.

"I don't wanna talk about it," Ashanti mutters, avoiding eye contact.

"Look, I get that something upset you, but taking it out on Naomi like that wasn't fair. She's our cousin, and she doesn't deserve that kind of treatment," She asserts, her protective instincts kicking in.

"You always take her side!" Ashanti shouts, turning away.

"I'm not on anyone's side, but I won't stand by when you're treating people unfairly. Sort out whatever's bothering you, Ashanti, before it ruins more than just today," Teresa advises before leaving Ashanti to her thoughts.

Back at the market, I'm walking with Michael as we've split up from Daniel and James. The sun has begun to set and it starts to get a bit colder. Michael smiles at me and places his arm around my shoulder as we walk, providing me a sense of warmth. He tries to get my mind off of the earlier confrontation and cheer me up.

"You know something else that's irritating?" He starts, his tone suggesting he has something to say.

"What's that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow as we walk. He takes a moment to reply.

"I haven't gotten to buy you a drink yet. A real one," He gestures to the market ahead. "We've been walking all day, so this is my chance." He grins and my eyes light up at the suggestion. I think for a moment, before cracking a small smile.

"I guess one drink can't hurt." I give in and Michael squeezes my shoulder, gently.

"Glad to see I haven't lost my charm." He says playfully, causing me to chuckle softly. "Just, this time, it's not gonna be hot chocolate. Let's change it up." I grin and nod in response. "I've got the perfect idea." Michael takes his arm from around my shoulder and grabs my hand, leading me into the market. His hand is warm against mine and he links our fingers, causing me to smile.

"It's just over here." He tugs my hand as he leads me through the crowd.

"What kind of drink did you have in mind?" I ask him. "Nothing too strong, please." I joke.

"Relax, I don't want to see you passed out on the floor." He answers before laughing. I roll my eyes and playfully slap the back of his hand in response.

"Okay, so what's this perfect idea?" I inquire with a smirk. Michael grins as we reach a small stand selling Christmas treats, hot cocoa, and other seasonal beverages before stopping and pointing towards the menu.

"Mulled apple cider." He says and I raise my eyebrows.

"I actually love that idea. They're nice and warm, but with a little bit of a kick. Love it." I nod in approval and we order two hot mulled ciders from the vendor.

"Here you go." The vendor smiles as he hands us our drinks. We all take them and move to find a spot to sit. After a few seconds of searching, we settle on a park bench away from the crowds. I take a seat and cradle the drink in my hands.

The mulled cider has a strong cinnamon smell, the heat warming the air around us. Michael sits down beside me, his own cider in one hand and the other placed on the back of the bench. We smile at each other as we take the first sips of our drinks.

"Mmmm, it's so good." I say, enjoying the warmth of the winter beverage. Our eyes meet but we go on drinking in silence. It's not awkward. We both know that we could talk if we wanted to but the peace is nice. Finally, after about a minute, Michael breaks the silence.

"Naomi..." He starts and I tilt my head in his direction.

"Yeah?"

"About what happened earlier. I just want you to know that I don't think those things about you. Not at all." He pauses for a moment as I listen intently. "And honestly, I don't think Ashanti does either. She just feels insecure about her image, and my arrival didn't make things any easier for her. But, whether she meant it or not, she's wrong about you." I didn't even realize how much I needed to hear that tonight, but his words seem to bring me some peace.

"Thank you, Michael. Really. I really appreciate it." I respond with a smile of my own. Our gaze lingers for a few more seconds, but I realize there's still something bothering me. Suddenly I turn to face him on the bench so we're sitting face to face.

"Can I admit something?" I hesitate. He nods and looks at me intently. I take a deep breath before speaking.

"I'm just as insecure as Ashanti," I confess, looking down into my mug. "I'm always trying to be cool and impressive, but I'm scared of looking dumb. It's like I'm not truly special to anyone." I glance over at Michael and I know he's listening carefully.

"My family is the most judgmental. Nothing seems to please them. I became a real estate agent, but it wasn't as good as Teresa's nursing job. I quit to be a full-time artist, and they say I'm throwing away all their hard work. Broke up with my cheating ex, and they say I should've paid more attention to him. Now that I'm almost thirty, they're nagging me about marriage and kids. What about what makes me happy?" I take a deep breath, feeling my eyes well up with tears.

Michael nods and I spill more, feeling vulnerable. "Their expectations are exhausting. I second guess every choice I make. Even if they're right, I don't want to live worrying about what people think. I want to live for me." I look up at Michael, his eyes still trained on me. I blush, realizing I've dumped a lot on him. He places a reassuring hand on my thigh.

"You know, I get it, Naomi. There's a lot of pressure on you to be perfect. But you don't have to be that. I see you for you. You're not perfect, but you're real. Don't be so hard on yourself." He smiles and takes my hand. I give him a small smile in return, grateful for his encouragement. His words resonate deep within me, creating a sense of warmth that goes beyond the heat radiating from the mulled cider. For a moment, I forget the chaos that unfolded earlier, and it's just Michael and me, sharing a connection.

"Thanks, Michael," I say, my voice a mix of gratitude and relief. "I really needed to hear that." He squeezes my hand gently.

"Anytime, Nao." He winks as he uses the nickname he gave me. "I'm happy to help." We share a cuddle on the bench, finishing our ciders. Michael breaks the silence again with a mischievous grin.

"You know," he starts, his eyes sparkling with playful intent, "as much as the scavenger hunt was a bust, there's still one thing I really wanted to check off our list."

"What is it?" I ask, my curiosity piqued. Michael smirks.

"Close your eyes and trust me." Raising an eyebrow, I decide to play along. Closing my eyes, I feel Michael taking my hand, lacing his fingers with mine once more and guiding me through the bustling market. He takes care to keep me from bumping into anyone or stumbling. As we walk, with my eyes closed, all I can focus on is the warmth and softness of his hands, making me feel at ease.

"Almost there." He whispers, excitement in his voice. A flutter of anticipation builds. The market sounds far and I realize we've steered away from it. Snow crunches under our feet as we come to a stop. "Now, open." Gasping, I find a beautifully adorned horse-drawn carriage before us, illuminated by twinkling Christmas lights in the trees. The festive carriage driver welcomes us with a warm smile.

"Surprise," Michael says, grinning that gorgeous smile as he gestures toward the carriage. Speechless, I take a moment to react.

"Michael, this is amazing. How did you...?" He chuckles, pulling me into his side.

"I saw them doing rides earlier today and I figured, if anything, this might somewhat salvage the evening." He glances over at me. "I hope you like it."

"Of course, I love it." I respond, still in shock at the gesture as I take in the magic of the moment.

"So, you wanna hop in? Or just stand out in the cold?" He asks teasingly, offering me his hand. I roll my eyes and grab his hand as he helps me into the carriage. As we get settled into the seats, the carriage lurches forward and the ride starts. As we're pulled down the snowy road, I look up and see the beautiful Christmas lights above us.

"Wow," I whisper in awe and smile brightly. "It's so beautiful." Michael smiles back and looks up as well.

"Yeah, it really is." He agrees. As the gentle rocking of the carriage and the peaceful night setting work in harmony, I feel my body relax more and more with each second.

I look over at Michael and his eyes are trained on me. I gaze back at him, noticing, once again, how striking his features are. He's handsome in such a unique way, with his deep, chocolate-brown eyes, his strong jawline, and his playful, almost cheeky dimpled grin that makes me want to melt every time I see it. He doesn't look away from me and I can't make myself look away either.

It seems like he's about to say something, but the sound of the horse whinnying as it trots on the snowy gravel draws our attention back to the moment. When we glance at each other again and I'm surprised by the intense way he's looking at me. His eyes study me carefully, as if he's trying to memorize every single detail about me; my skin, my expression, the way my lips move when I speak.

Out of nowhere, I begin to feel a bit shy, a warmth rising within me as I realize how close we are. I look back up at the lights, my cheeks turning red and out of the corner of my eye, I see Michael do the same. We sit there for a few moments, silently looking up at the lights, our bodies inching ever so slightly closer. Suddenly, I feel Michael's lips peck my cheek. I look over at him, pressing my hand to my cheek in surprise. He looks back at me, his gaze still focused intently on mine. He watches me, studying my reaction before bringing his fingers to rest underneath my chin.

"Come here..." His words send electricity through my body as he pulls me forward a few inches and presses his plump lips against my own in a gentle kiss. My eyes flutter shut as my breath grows shallow. His lips feel soft on mine and I can taste the sweetness of the mulled cider from before. Every nerve in my body sparks with heat as the world around us becomes muffled. He's tender and gentle, kissing me in a way that says he truly cares about me.

Michael pulls away for a moment, his thumb caressing my skin softly as it grazes across my bottom lip. He wets his lips slightly before pulling me back in for another kiss. This time, his touch is firmer, his tongue slipping its way into my mouth. I find my hands resting on either side of his neck, pulling him in deeper. He sets his hands on my hips, pulling me closer so that our bodies fit neatly together.

The kiss continues for a few more seconds before he finally breaks it, breathing heavily. He pulls his head back slightly as he looks at me. I'm completely speechless. I've never felt anything like this before. My heart is fluttering, my arms are weak, and my body feels like it's on fire.

Our moment is interrupted by the sound of the driver clearing his throat awkwardly. Michael turns to him and smiles apologetically.

"Sorry, my lovebirds. We're almost there, don't worry." I look up at the driver and give him a sheepish smile, my expression growing even redder if that's even possible. Before I can say anything, Michael cuts in.

"Heh. Lovebirds." He mocks the driver's words jokingly, his tone light and playful. He turns back to me and kisses my hand. "He knows what's up." I smile, feeling like I'm in a dream. We pull back to the place where we started and the carriage comes to a halt. The driver climbs down from his seat and opens the gate so we can leave. Michael gets out first and puts his hands on my waist, helping me down from the carriage. He tips the driver before pulling me by the hand to his side, wrapping his arm back around me.

"Did you enjoy the ride?" He asks, smiling down at me.

"The physical one or the emotional one?" I reply teasingly, causing Michael to laugh. "I did enjoy the ride," I admit, giving a bit of a shy grin.

"Good," he replies, his tone shifting to something more sincere.

"It's getting late." I sigh as I look at the time. Michael glances at his watch and nods in agreement.

"Yeah, we should probably get back before they start to worry." He replies, giving me a warm smile. I return the smile, turning to face him.

"Today was a lot... but you really turned it around for me. Thank you for that." Michael pulls me into a hug, his body engulfing me.

"Don't mention it. I didn't like seeing a frown on your face." He says as he lets go of me. "You look way prettier when you smile." I blush at his compliment, looking down at my feet as he takes my hand in his. He looks ahead as we make our way back to the family house, the festive lights and decorations still illuminating the winter night.

As we near the house, I can't help but to feel a mix of emotions. Today had unexpected turns, but it all worked out in the end. Mostly. As we step inside, we're met with the warmth of the home and all of the lights are off. It seems like everyone's gone to sleep. Michael and I slip off our shoes before quietly making our way up the stairs.

"Looks like everyone's down for the night," He says, peering into the hallway and seeing no lights.

"Hopefully we didn't keep them up." I whisper, trying not to make too much noise on the creaky floor. Michael turns to me, leaning against the wall as he gazes at me through the darkness.

"Hey, Nao," He starts and I look at him in curiosity.

"Yeah?" He looks off to the side for a moment, as if contemplating his next words.

"I know today wasn't perfect, but I really enjoyed spending time with you." He takes my hand in his again. "I know I've only been here for a day, but I already feel so close to you. I'm not exactly sure how to describe it, but I know exactly how I feel when I'm with you." He leans in and speaks softly, causing me to shiver. His smile grows brighter as I look up at him with affection. "And I gotta say, I'm pretty excited for tomorrow."

"I really can't tell you how much this means to me. I feel like I don't have to try with you. Everything just flows so naturally. I can't wait to spend more time with you." I reply, biting my lip slightly.

"You sleep well, Nao. Goodnight." He tells me, planting a kiss on my cheek.

"Goodnight to you too, Michael." I say back and he gives me that small, flirty nod he gave me when we first met as he turns and begins walking down the hall towards his room. I watch Michael leave, his warmth lingering as he disappears into the guest room. I stand there for a moment, absorbing the sincerity in his voice and the unexpected connection we've formed. As I enter my room, the quiet of the night surrounds me, and the events of the day play like a movie in my mind.

I take a deep breath and decide to capture the essence of the day on paper. I grab the cheap sketchbook Ashanti gave me yesterday, along with a few coloring pencils. The room is dimly lit by the soft glow of the streetlamps outside, casting a gentle ambiance.

I begin sketching, letting my hand move freely across the paper. The pencil captures the laughter, the awkwardness, the joy, and the unexpected intimacy that all came with today. The lines on the paper become a visual narrative, each stroke expressing the emotions that I experienced throughout the day. I feel a sense of regret as I recall how Ashanti and I acted towards each other. I feel grateful for the comfort I was given today.

As I continue to sketch, I am reminded just how much art has a way of helping me process my feelings. The notepad becomes a canvas for both the highs and lows of the day, a tangible representation of the emotional rollercoaster I've been on.

On another page, I capture the moment I had with Michael. The mulled ciders, the carriage ride, even our time by the fireplace this morning. I smile as I reminisce on this eventful day, feeling lucky to be where I am. I glance at the clock and realize how much later it has gotten. The exhaustion of the day catches up with me and I decide it's time to put the pencil down. I change into my pajamas and slide under the cozy covers of the bed.

With a contented sigh, I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to take me. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, who knows what surprises it might hold. The room is filled with a quiet peace, and as I drift off to sleep, the events of the day soften into dreams, leaving behind the anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.

When I wake up the next morning, I feel sense of anticipation, eager to make the most of today. As I get ready, I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the day ahead. There's still a lingering tension in the air, especially with Ashanti, but I'm determined to make Christmas Eve memorable for everyone.

I head downstairs to find the family gathering in the living room, watching a movie. I say good morning to everyone and head into the kitchen to see if I can help. I get there to find just my aunts Tina and Pat preparing the Christmas Eve feast. I find a place to help out and smile to myself, chopping up some vegetables.

As I move around the kitchen, Ashanti enters, her eyes meeting mine briefly. There's a flicker of guilt in Ashanti's expression, a silent tension between us that, at some point, needs to be addressed. Although, I am not planning on being the one to start that conversation. She goes and sits at the kitchen table, scrolling on her phone. My aunt Tina looks over her shoulder and smiles.

"Oh, I loved that photoshoot you did, sweetie. You looked so fierce and powerful!" She compliments, putting her hand on Ashanti's shoulder.

"Yeah..." She replies, not looking up from her phone. Aunt Tina smirks and glances over at me.

"You know, Naomi, I want to apologize for the other day." She starts and I look up from my task with a raised eyebrow.

"You do?" I question and she nods.

"Maybe you're onto something with your art. At least it's better than jumping from job to job." She says, causing Aunt Pat to snicker a bit. I look over at Ashanti, who doesn't look up from her cellphone. "Ugh, the things I would do to be able to get paid to just doodle all day. Must be a dream." I sigh deeply, looking over at her.

"Aunt Tina, do you really think that art is just about sitting around and drawing whatever I want?" I ask her calmly.

"Well, honey-"

"No." I cut her off. "My job isn't that simple. It takes years to learn the skills I have. Art is a form of expression. It's like telling a story and it isn't always your own. It has a way of connecting people and cementing memories for years to come. I'm not some toddler with a crayon. To me, art is everything. Why can't any of you respect that?" I ask, gesturing to everyone in the room. My aunt Pat looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Mimi," She starts with a sigh, "you know we want nothing but the best for you." I clench my fist as I stare at her.

"See, that's another thing. If I'm being honest, a lot of my insecurities come from others telling me what they think I should be. I think it's time I start listening to what I want for a change."

"We're just trying to look out for you, sweetie. You're a bit reckless is all." Aunt Tina says, rolling her eyes.

"No, the problem is that you guys don't respect my choices or ambitions," I reply. "Thank you for the concern, but at the end of the day, it's my life." I say with a bit of sass.

"Whatever." Aunt Tina says, throwing her hands up. "Just do what you want. You always do anyway." Ashanti slams her hand down on the table and stands up.

"Will you stop, Mom?" She raises her voice, shocking us all. Ashanti takes a deep breath and points a finger at Aunt Tina. "It's one thing if you want to judge me and treat me like a child because I'm your daughter," She continues firmly. "But keep Naomi out of it! What she's doing is amazing and, I've got to admit, I'm jealous that she actually has the courage to do what she wants."

"Ashanti-"

"I'm not finished!" She cuts her mom off. "All my life, you've had a plan for who I was gonna be and what I was gonna do, but did you once ask me what I wanted to do? I just went along with it because I figured mother knows best. But I hate my life and I'm starting to hate the person I've become." I start seeing Ashanti in a new light, having heard this new bit of information. I'd always thought that she just didn't like me and that we were always at odds, but now I know why.

"Naomi and I used to be best friends, but because of how you raised me, I grew to despise her, when really I should've despised you. I've stood by my whole life and let you dictate my decisions, but I won't let you do that to my cousin. You have no right!" I stare at Ashanti, stunned by her outburst. I'm also a little relieved that someone finally stood up for me. Aunt Tina and Pat don't know what to say.

"If you guys are my real family, then you won't just want me to be a carbon copy of you." She says, a bit calmer. "And if you care about us and what's good for us, you'll respect our choices."

My aunts are silent, their smug expressions completely washed away. Aunt Tina sighs again, not wanting to admit that we're correct. Before she can say a word, my mom comes downstairs, wearing her best Christmas sweater. She immediately senses the tension in the room and steps in. "What's going on down here?" She asks, her tone firm and direct.

"Nothing, Mom. Ashanti and I were just leaving." I say, before heading out of the kitchen. Ashanti follows behind me and we make our way to the study.

The room is dark and quiet, Ashanti flipping on a light to see the room. The two of us share a look, the mood of the moment taking a sharp turn. Ashanti sits down on the couch, burying her face in her hands. I hesitate for a second before sitting down beside her.

"Ashanti, I'm so sorry." I offer, reaching my hand out to her. She doesn't respond right away, but she finally takes my hand in hers.

"No, I should be the one apologizing. I have been so unfair to you and I'm sorry for all I've put you through." The look she gives is one of guilt and regret. I give her a soft smile and she continues. "I've just been so angry for so long and I took it out on you. My mother would always pressure me to do exactly what she wanted me to do and I was jealous that you could do anything you wanted when we were growing up."

"Ashanti..." I say softly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I never knew you felt this way. I always thought your life was perfect and I felt like I would never amount to all the things you've accomplished." I admit.

"No ones life is perfect, Naomi. All those accomplishments, they weren't mine. They were my mother's. I just went along with everything, in hopes that I would make them proud. But nothing is ever enough." She takes a deep breath and looks me in the eye. "And I want to apologize for yesterday. I didn't mean any of those things I said. Honestly, I'm not doing as well as everyone says."

"What do you mean?" I question. There's a long pause as Ashanti considers her words, trying to get them right.

"You know how everyone's been talking about how successful I am?" She begins, seeming unsure of herself. I nod, listening intently. "Well, I'm struggling. A lot. My mother doesn't know this, but I lost my modeling job. My boyfriend and I broke up a few months and I'm about to be evicted!" She confesses, a tear running down her face. "That's why I've been so mean lately. I've been trying to keep up appearances but it's stressful as hell and it's even worse because Michael's here." My eyes widen as she tells me this, the words catching me off guard.

"You don't like that Michael's here?"

"I like Michael," She says, shaking her head. "I mean hello! He's Michael B Jordan, who wouldn't like him? But ever since he arrived, Mom has been pressuring me to seduce him. I hate it, I feel like some shallow bitch who annoys everyone. I just wanted to make my mother happy, but at what cost? I'm just making a fool out of myself and it's obvious that he likes you. I'm so tired of being fake. I can tell that no one likes me." She looks down at her lap, avoiding my eyes.

"That's not true," I defend. "Yeah, you get on our nerves sometimes and sometimes you make Michael a bit uncomfortable..." She gives a wry laugh as I speak. "But we all love to have you around. You may see yourself as fake, but we all know the real you. And we love being around you. Ashanti, even when you started being mean to me when we were kids, I still was excited to see you. And I'm glad to have you as my cousin. If I'm honest, your teasing made me want to do better. And your mom may have pushed you to be perfect, but every accomplishment is yours. You earned each of them. And I'm so proud of you, Ashanti." She looks up at me in disbelief.

"Really?" She asks, a shocked expression on her face. Her eyes are filled with tears and her shoulders are slumped. "But how can you say that when I've made things so difficult for you? I've been nothing but nasty to you."

"Because you're still my cousin." I reply with a gentle smile on my face. "It's true that you can sometimes be a bit much, but I still love you. Like you said, we both got on each others nerves when we were kids, but no one's perfect, especially when it comes to our family."

Ashanti wipes away her tears. "I appreciate that, Naomi. Honestly, I really think that you're such an amazing person. I'm just really bad at saying it." She says with a faint smile. "I'm really sorry for everything I put you through before and after Michael got here. I really do love you. Please forgive me?"

"Of course, I forgive you, Ashanti." I pull her into a hug, a real one. She hesitates for a second, before hugging me back. I give her a little squeeze as I missed this feeling with my cousin. She doesn't let go for a moment, before finally speaking again.

"Hey... can I ask you a favor?" She asks, her voice soft.

"Yeah, what is it?" I reply, prepared for whatever she might ask of me.

To be continued...

On the ninth day of Christmas...

𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝕺𝖓 𝕴𝖈𝖊

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem Reader

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 2K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ In the middle of winter break, Miles, feeling restless, hits you up to see if you'd wanna hang out. You suggest ice skating and soon enough, you're on the ice. You find yourself realizing exactly how you feel about Miles and that, maybe, he feels the same.

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ Here's a cute lil oneshot for ya. I absolutely love Spiderverse, so it's always fun to make fanfics of it. I hope you guys like it!

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

The winter chill has settled over Brooklyn, New York, covering the streets in a layer of pristine snow. School has just gotten out for winter break and it seems like the crime has died down a bit, so Miles hasn't really had anything to do. Feeling a bit restless, he glances out of his window at the snowy world below. With a sigh, Miles reaches for his phone, deciding to make his day more interesting and text his best friend, Y/N.

Miles: "Yo, you busy?"

You were in your home, lounging in your room as you scroll on your phone. A notification shows up at the top of your screen and you see it's a message from Miles. You look at the text you received and raise an eyebrow, curious as to why he was asking.

Y/N: "Nah, I'm free right now. What's up?

Miles: "You wanna hang out? I'm bored..."

Y/N: "Yeah, I'm down. What did you have in mind?"

Miles: "Dunno, we could just chill at my house?"

You sigh at his suggestion, rolling your eyes and shaking your head.

Y/N: "I'm tired of being inside, I wanna go out somewhere. How 'bout that ice skating place that just opened a few weeks ago?"

Miles had to pause, contemplating on whether or not to go. But he decided that if it made you happy, he wanted to take you there.

Miles: "Sure, I'm down. You better not be scared to go ice skating."

His reply sounded as if he was mocking you.

Y/N: "Speak for yourself. They don't call me Ice Queen for nothin'😉❄️"

Miles couldn't help but chuckle.

Miles: "Sure, Miss 'Ice Queen'. Let's do this."

Fifteen minutes later, you and Miles are walking down the snowy streets, heading towards the ice skating rink. While walking, the cold surrounded you two, a slight breeze causing Miles to wince and rub his arms a bit.

"Dang, it's kinda cold out here." He says, looking over at you, presuming you were also cold.

"What? You can't handle a little chill?" You ask teasingly, hiding the fact that you are chilly as well. Miles scoffs and looks over as his breath is visible.

"You don't look any less frozen than me, Ice Queen." He moves closer to you, rubbing his shoulder against yours in an attempt to warm himself. You laugh sarcastically at his joke and bump his shoulder playfully.

"We're almost there, crybaby," You say, pointing up ahead. Miles was going to give a comeback in response, but he was too damn cold to really care too much.

"Good, I'm freezing my ass off." He admits, his teeth chattering a bit as he speaks. When we get inside, it's still cold but definitely warmer than outside. We head up to the front desk and pay for some rentals before heading over to a bench to put the skates on. Miles struggles a bit with his. He's a bit uncoordinated sometimes, so it takes him some time to actually put them on properly. Although, once he's done, he smiles and looks at you expectantly.

"So? Show me what you got, Ice Queen." He says with a slight laugh. You meet his challenge with a smirk.

"Watch and learn, Morales!" You glide out gracefully onto the ice, noticing that there's not that many people out. Miles shuffles over to the ice, holding onto the wall as he watches you. "See? I know what I'm doing." Miles rolls his eyes playfully at you.

"Sure, keep thinking that. But hey, if you fall, I'll be there to catch you. Sound fair?" He laughs, sounding a bit flirtatious. You laugh in response.

"You wish I would fall!" You shout as you take a lap around the rink. You come back around and Miles is still waiting at the edge of the ice. "Whatchu waiting for, slow poke?" You taunt. He gives you a determined look and steps out onto the ice. Although, before he can even finish taking a step, he falls onto the cold floor, landing on his butt. You skate over to him, holding out a hand. Miles looks up at you, seeming a little bit embarrassed.

"What was that you said about catching me if I fall? Maybe I should've been saying that." You tease as you stifle a laugh. He shakes his head as he grabs your hand and pulls himself up.

"Shut up. I tripped." He insists, obviously lying to himself.

"On thin air, or your ego?" You stick your tongue out tauntingly and start skating forward.

"Thin air, definitely. My ego's still very much in tact, thank you." You chuckle as he catches up, the two of you now gliding on the ice together. Miles is a bit wobbly, but he finds his balance, hoping not to fall on his ass again. You shake your head and hold your hand out to him.

"Here, just hold onto me." You offer with a small smirk on your face. Miles gives you a smug look back, taking your hand and standing upright.

"My hero." He replies mockingly. You roll your eyes and he pulls you closer to him as you both skate forward. "You know, if you wanted to hold my hand, Y/N, you could've just said so." He teases, giving you a wink.

"What? No, I was just being nice. If you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just asked." You retort playfully, giving him a nudge with your elbow. He looks as if he's going to lose his balance for a moment, but then recovers, glaring at you as you snicker at him.

"Uh huh, that's what they all say." He scoffs and you continue to laugh at him. Suddenly, he loses his balance again and he grabs onto your shoulders for support, gasping loudly. He ended up accidentally pushing my back against the railing of the rink. To others it looks like he's just giving me a hug, but he's really trying not to fall again.

"Ah! Miles!" You instinctively grab onto him as you hold him up and you can't help but to giggle. Miles sighs, looking off to the side but it's obvious that he's enjoying how close he gets to be to you.

"You're so bad at this! You almost took us both down!" You exclaim, scolding him jokingly. He leans in close to you and looks into your eyes as your faces are only a few inches apart now.

"Hey. You know, they say that people fall in love when they accidentally fall on each other?" He teases, trying his best to maintain his balance.

"Who said that?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Um, I did..." Miles says nonchalantly with a slight grin on his face, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You laugh, shaking your head once again at his silliness. But you couldn't help but blush slightly. A smile crept onto his lips as he smirks at you. "Oh? Am I making you nervous?" He asks tauntingly. You clear your throat and shake your head.

"No! I could never get nervous around you. Pft..." You say mockingly, but as you're speaking, your voice cracks a bit.

"Oh, is that so?" The grin on his face grew wider, almost as if he knew you weren't telling the truth about not being nervous. "Well, tell that to the blush on your face." He smirks at you before letting go of your shoulders and skating off, as if he never had any trouble before. You watch him, stunned as he doesn't even look unsteady.

"Were you faking the whole time?!" You shout after him in surprise, skating to catch up with him. He turns to face me as he skates ahead of me, skating backwards now. My jaw drops.

"Me? Fake? Never..." He replies with a smug look. "You know, you're cute when you're shocked."

"Oh don't even- That's not true. You said you couldn't skate!" You deflect, pointing a finger at him. As you catch up to him, he turns back forward, smirking at you.

"Never said that. You just assumed I couldn't because I fell earlier." He points out. "Besides, you're so easy to tease. It was very fun seeing your reaction." Miles chuckles.

"Oh, so now you're calling me easy?" You raise an eyebrow at him, hiding a smile.

"Easy to tease. If you were easy to get, I'd have gotten you a while ago. You're really making me work for it, Y/N." He says slyly, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

"What are you talking about?" I question, rolling my eyes.

"Oh, don't act oblivious now. Since you know everything, I bet you've been playing hard to get and you want me to chase you." He replies confidently.

"Ooh, so you're on to me, now? Hm, I guess you're smarter than I thought." You smirk at him and he seems a bit surprised. "Maybe I do want you to chase me, Miles." You give him a wink and skate ahead again. You had him at a loss for words for a moment, but then he skates after you. You both laugh as he tries to grab you and you dodge him.

As you glide across the ice, you lose your balance. But before you fall, Miles catches you and you two are now inches apart. You both stop in the center of the rink, panting softly. A few seconds pass, but no one makes a move. He looks at you and you look back at him. Then you feel his grip on your waist and he pulls you in a little closer. You can feel his breath on your face. It's as if you are the only two in the rink.

Finally, Miles leans in a little further and kisses you softly on the lips. His lips on yours sends a slight tingle up your spine and you feel your heart beat faster as you kiss him back. His hand moves to the back of your neck and he kisses you deeper, putting more passion behind the kiss.

After a few seconds, he pulls back but he still holds you close. As he moves his head away, he looks at you with a small smile on his face. You gaze at each other, both slightly blushing, but not embarrassed at all. Miles looks as if he's about to say something to you, but he's interrupted by one of the skating rink workers.

"Hey! No stopping in place on the ice! Keep it moving." He tells you both.

"Oh! Right, sorry." Miles says to the man before turning back to you. "Let's get outta here." He suggests, grabbing your hand.

"Yeah, let's go." You respond, as he pulls you to the side of the rink. He looks at you once more before he suddenly kisses your cheek.

"Sorry, couldn't resist." He smiles as he sees you blush again.

"Sure, you couldn't." You roll your eyes, stepping off the ice as Miles follows you.

You both leave the rink and head outside, noticing that the sun has set. The cold air is still a bit chilly on your skin, but it's not too bad. You notice that Miles has gotten you to hold his arm as he walks you home, as if he's not letting you go after the kiss that you two shared.

"So... I guess all that chasing wasn't for nothing then, huh?" Miles raises his eyebrows, smirking at you.

"I guess the chase was worth it. You caught your prize, now what?" You reply playfully, looking up at him. He pulls you a little closer and wraps his arms around you.

"Now, I get to keep it," He says as he kisses you gently on the lips. The world around you blurs as Miles kisses you under the soft glow of the streetlights. The snowflakes gently fall around you, creating a magical atmosphere. It's a moment frozen in time, one that you wish could last forever.

After a while, he breaks the kiss and looks at you. He can't keep his eyes off your face, his smile growing as he holds you in his warm embrace. Suddenly, a gentle breeze causes you both to shiver a bit, but the cold doesn't matter to you. All that matters is that you are there with Miles. The two of you start to walk again, Mile's arm around your shoulder as you walk down the street.