LotR Oneshots (Requests Closed Cuz Writers Block)

Pippin x reader

My apologies in advance, I was bored when I wrote most of this.... :)

You sighed as the bread turned out hard and half burnt. You could never cook, it was a curse. Well, maybe not exactly, but it wasn't a common thing for Hobbits not being able to cook. So you just considered it as a curse.

You really wanted to bring something to Pippin's coming of age party. He was turning 33! In two days, he's going to be a year older than you.

But you couldn't bake anything. But maybe, maybe you could try to make his favorite cake. And this one time it would work out. You knew he loved fruitcake with a creamy frosting, so you set off to the market.

.   .   .

While on the way home you bumped into someone. You smiled like an idiot, it was Pippin!

“Oh- sorry y/n!” He also had a goofy smile, then he looked down at the groceries in your arms and his face changed a bit and his tone was wary. “You're not going to… make something, are you?”

“It's ok and… well, yes. I'm going to try at least. For your 33rd birthday! Your coming of age party!”

“... You could just make me a nice drawing, you're good at drawing.” He said, chuckling awkwardly.

“But I want to make food for you,” you sigh, “can't I do that?”

“Uhm…”

“I know, I guess I shouldn't…” you sighed and you felt Pippin's hand on your shoulder.

“Well, it doesn't hurt to try, does it?” his tone was still a bit unsure, but he had a smile on his face.

“I guess not, unless I somehow end up poisoning it.” you started to walk back to your hobbit-hole, groceries in your arms. Pippin walked by your side, “should I help you?”

“Oh, yes. That would be wonderful, thank you!” You smiled and he grabbed some of the stuff from your arms.

“Are you making a fruitcake??” He sounded like a little kid, his tone happy and high pitched.

“Yeah. Trying to,” you laughed at how his voice had changed.

“Should I help you? So um it doesn't…” he didn't finish the sentence.

“So it doesn't end up being a weird blob?” you sighed for the fourth time today.

“Well, yeah.” You came to your Hobbit-hole, and you opened the door, opening it for Pippin, who walked in and you followed.

“I kinda wanna make it myself,” you put the groceries on the counter, “it would feel more like an actual gift to you.”

He was about to say something, but you cut him off with a look. He nodded and sat down in one of the dining room table chairs.

“So are you going to make it now?”

“Yes, I know fresh fruit cake tastes good, but when it sits for a while, it tastes amazing.” You grabbed a cookbook from the bookshelf and opened it to the recipe you wanted.

“I'll stay to, um, keep you company!” He said, and you stifle a sigh.

“Well, you could help… read the ingredients and directions.” You gave him the cookbook and he smiled as he looked at it.

He started to list off the ingredients, and you measured them out. You mixed the dough together and poured it all into a pan.

It looked ok, and you added a bit of brandy, it wasn't called for in the recipe but that's how your mother used to do it, it always gave the fruitcake a unique taste.