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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 6 months ago

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1k night celebration 🍾🍾🍾🎈congrats 😏

i don’t know if you write ABO but if you do, please do an Alpha! Agatha Harkness who meets omega! Reader. Agatha see the fear in Reader’s eyes. Reader is terrified. Agatha is horny and thinks that Reader is pretty

Nothing to Fear Dear

Alpha!Agatha Harkness x omega!fem!reader

Summary: You are terrified of Alpha's, but suddenly one comes into your life that is just...different.

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, a/b/o content (marking/scent glands/scenting/breeding), shit alpha's wolf whistling and being rude to R

A/N: This is my first time writing ABO! Please if I got anything wrong please tell me how I could improve! I love reading ABO and would love to write more I just don't know if I did it justice.

You didn't trust Alphas. Your history with them wasn't good. Your dad, your cousins, your ex. Telling you what you could and couldn't do. Controlling you at every turn. Now that you were on your own and away from all of them.

You tended to stay home, get things delivered, but there was a farmers market with the nice weather rolling in and you really wanted to go see what it was like. You got yourself dressed for the day; nothing too revealing, nothing that would catch an Alphas attention. You took a little tote with you that you had bought with every intention of using sooner, but you barely left the house.

You step into the bustling farmers market, immediately enveloped by a symphony of sounds and scents. The air is alive with the chatter of vendors and the hum of visitors exploring the stalls. Vibrant displays of fresh produce catch your eye—deep red tomatoes, crisp green lettuces, and baskets overflowing with colorful berries.

As you stroll through the market, the scent of freshly baked bread mingles with the earthy aroma of herbs. You pause at a stand where a farmer enthusiastically offers you a slice of juicy peach, its sweetness bursting in your mouth. Nearby, a musician strums a cheerful tune on a guitar, adding a lively backdrop to your experience.

You find yourself drawn to a table laden with homemade jams and honey, each jar gleaming in the sunlight. The vendor, an elderly woman with a warm smile, shares the story of how her bees produce the honey you now sample on a small wooden spoon. The rich, floral notes of the honey linger on your palate as you continue your journey.

The vibrant energy of the farmers market is both exhilarating and slightly overwhelming. You navigate through the bustling crowd, making sure to keep to the less crowded paths. Despite your efforts to avoid attention, the occasional Alpha scent catches your nose, causing a flicker of anxiety.

You remind yourself to breathe, focusing on the pleasant sensory experiences around you. The sweet taste of the peach, the melody of the musician's guitar, and the warmth of the sun on your skin all help to ground you. You approach a stand with beautifully arranged flowers and pause to admire the vibrant array of colors.

As you continue exploring, you find yourself stopping at a stand featuring an assortment of herbs and spices. The vendor, a middle-aged Beta with a kind demeanor, offers you a sample of a fragrant lavender sachet. You inhale deeply, the soothing scent helping to further calm your nerves.

It’s while you’re at this stand that you feel a presence nearby. Turning slightly, you see her—a striking woman with brown hair and an air of confidence that immediately marks her as an Alpha. She’s examining a selection of fresh herbs, her expression thoughtful and focused. You can’t help but notice her tailored, yet casual outfit, giving off a sense of understated elegance.

Your instinct is to move away, to avoid any possible interaction, but something about her presence is different. She doesn't exude the same domineering aura you've come to associate with Alphas. Instead, there's a calm, almost magnetic quality to her. Before you can make a decision, she glances up and catches your eye, offering you a gentle smile.

“Lovely day for a market, isn’t it?” she says, her voice warm and inviting.

You nod, managing a small smile in return. “It is,” you reply softly.

“I’m Agatha,” she introduces herself, extending a hand. “It’s nice to see new faces around here.”

You hesitate for a moment before shaking her hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Do you come here often, Y/N?” she asks, her gaze steady and kind.

“No, not really. This is my first time,” you admit, feeling a bit self-conscious.

“Well, you’ve picked a good day for it. The weather is perfect, and the produce is exceptional this time of year,” she says, her eyes twinkling. “If you’re looking for recommendations, I’d be happy to help.”

The offer is tempting, and despite your usual wariness around Alphas, something about Agatha makes you feel at ease. “That would be nice, actually. I’m not really sure where to start.”

Agatha’s smile widens. “Great! How about we start with the fruit stand over there? They have the best strawberries you’ll ever taste.”

As you walk together, Agatha points out her favorite stalls, sharing little anecdotes and tips. Her presence is comforting, and you find yourself relaxing more with each step. The way she interacts with the vendors and other market-goers shows a level of respect and genuine kindness that you haven’t seen in an Alpha before.

By the time you’ve filled your tote with fresh produce and a few delightful treats, you realize that you’ve enjoyed yourself more than you expected. Agatha has made the experience not only bearable but pleasant.

As Agatha shows you around the market, you begin to let your guard down. Her warm, genuine demeanor makes it easier to forget the usual anxiety you feel in the presence of Alphas. However, this fleeting sense of comfort is shattered when a group of Alphas nearby start to take notice of you.

"Hey there, sweetheart!" one of them calls out, his tone laced with a possessive edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

Another Alpha joins in, letting out a piercing wolf whistle that makes your heart race with fear. You freeze, instinctively drawing closer to Agatha. Your eyes meet hers, and you see a flash of something intense and protective in her gaze.

In an instant, Agatha steps closer to you, her presence becoming a shield against the unwanted attention. The scent of lavender intensifies around you, soothing your frayed nerves. Agatha's expression shifts, her previously warm smile replaced with a steely determination.

"Is there a problem here?" she asks, her voice calm but with an underlying firmness that commands respect.

The Alphas, taken aback by her sudden presence, hesitate. One of them scoffs, trying to maintain his bravado. "We were just having a bit of fun," he says, though the uncertainty in his eyes is evident.

Agatha takes another step forward, positioning herself directly between you and the other Alphas. "Well, I suggest you find your fun elsewhere. This Omega is with me." Her tone leaves no room for argument, her Alpha presence now fully asserting itself.

The other Alphas exchange glances, the weight of Agatha's authority pressing down on them. They grumble among themselves before deciding it’s not worth the confrontation. One by one, they back off, their eyes still wary of Agatha.

Once they’re gone, Agatha turns to you, her expression softening immediately. "Are you alright?" she asks gently, concern evident in her voice.

You nod, still a bit shaken but deeply grateful. "Thank you, Agatha. I don’t know what I would have done without you."

She places a reassuring hand on your shoulder, her touch grounding you. "You don’t have to worry when you’re with me," she says softly. "I won’t let anyone hurt you."

The sincerity in her words touches something deep within you. Despite your past experiences, you feel a growing trust in Agatha. Her actions have shown you that not all Alphas are the same—that there are those who can be kind and protective without being controlling.

As you continue to explore the market together, Agatha remains close by, her presence a comforting anchor. The other vendors and market-goers seem to recognize her protective stance, giving you both a respectful distance.

By the time you leave the market, your tote filled with fresh produce and delightful treats, you realize that today has been more than just a shopping trip. It’s been a step toward healing and perhaps the beginning of a new friendship.

As you part ways, Agatha gives you a warm smile. "I hope to see you again, Y/N. Maybe we can make this a regular thing."

You smile back, the anxiety that usually plagues you feeling more distant than ever. "I’d like that," you reply, and for the first time in a long while, you truly mean it.

-----------------

The weeks following your initial encounter with Agatha have been transformative. Each trip to the market with her has been better than the last. She introduces you to her favorite stalls, the vendors greeting you both warmly, and slowly, you’ve started to feel like you belong. Agatha’s presence has been a comforting constant, her protective nature ensuring you always feel safe.

Today, however, is different. Agatha had invited you out for a date beyond the familiar confines of the market. The thought had initially filled you with trepidation, but her kind eyes and gentle smile had reassured you. She had taken you to a quaint café, where you spent hours talking and laughing, the time slipping by unnoticed. As the sun began to set, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, Agatha suggested heading back to her place for a nightcap.

You hesitated but agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and anxiety. Her home is cozy and inviting, filled with the same warmth and charm that she exudes. As you step inside, you can’t help but feel a surge of affection for the woman who has slowly become so important to you.

Agatha offers you a drink, and you both settle on the comfortable couch in her living room. The conversation flows easily, but there’s an underlying tension—a palpable awareness of the new territory you’re venturing into.

As the evening progresses, Agatha moves closer, her touch gentle yet insistent. When her hand finds yours, the connection sends a jolt through you. You’ve never felt so much fear and love all at once. Her touch is tender, but there’s an intensity in her eyes that makes your heart race.

"Y/N," she whispers, her voice husky with emotion. "I’ve wanted this for so long."

You swallow hard, your own emotions a turbulent mix. "Agatha, I… I’m scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

She cups your face in her hands, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek. "You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll never hurt you," she promises, her eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nod, trying to focus on the love you feel rather than the fear. "I trust you," you whisper, and the words are a revelation to yourself as much as they are to her.

Her lips find yours, the kiss starting slow and soft, but quickly becoming more passionate. Her hands move to your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel her need for you in every touch. Your heart races, but this time it’s from desire rather than fear.

Agatha’s hands roam over your body, exploring with a gentle yet insistent touch. Every caress sends shivers down your spine, the fear slowly melting away under the heat of her affection. She pulls back for a moment, looking into your eyes, her own filled with a mix of love and desire.

"Are you okay?" she asks, her voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod, your breath coming in short gasps. "Yes, Agatha. I’m more than okay."

Her smile is radiant, and she kisses you again, this time with a fervor that leaves you breathless. You surrender to the moment, letting yourself be carried away by the wave of emotions. Agatha’s touch is both tender and possessive, her need for you evident in every movement.

She pulls you onto her lap, working you against her throbbing cock that pushes against her pants, making you moan out. It had been years since you had sex with another. Your fear took such a hold you’d taken suppression pills not wanting the attention of Alpha’s when you’d go into heat. You hadn’t been taking them since you met Agatha. She made you feel safe even though the fear sat in your chest like a heavy stone.

“Are you okay Y/N?” Agatha pulls you back to reality and you realize you’re not breathing properly.

“I got lost in thought. I’m sorry.” You tried to make an excuse, but Agatha knew you better she saw the look in your eyes.

“It’s me sweet girl. No ones going to hurt you.” She pulled you close, brushing against you and scenting, a lavender calm over you and you didn’t need much more to start grinding down on her. You wanted, no needed this, needed her and Agatha felt the same way. Trying to get herself out of her pants as fast as she could and you had worn a skirt because Agatha had asked.

She pulled your panties aside, rubbing against you as a moan tumbled out past your lips. Agatha pulled your lips towards her own, whispering against your lips,

“Is this okay?” You nodded frantically, moving your hips just enough for her to slip inside. Suddenly you’re getting pulled down onto her. “Fuck...you feel perfect. My pretty girl. Such a pretty little omega.” All you could do is nod dumbly as she thrusted up into you.

Nothing had ever felt this good. Nothing had even ever come close to how Agatha was making you feel right now as she thrusted up into you and you rolled your hips. She felled you up perfectly like she was made for you.

“A-Agatha...?” You breathed out, making her look at you. “Mark me. Please...wanna be yours...please let me be yours.”

“Only if you’ll be mine pretty girl.” You smiled all big and blissed out on her cock.

“Yes! Please wanna mark you too!” She smiled, leaning in and pulling you further onto her cock as she knotted you, filling you up full and biting into your neck, making you moan out at the double pain and pleasure combo. Once she pulled back you leaned in, marking her. The sound she made for you was perfect as you clenched around her. She was made for you and you were made for her.

As the night progresses, you realize that this is what you’ve been missing. The balance of fear and love, the intensity of her affection, and the safety you feel in her arms. Agatha has shown you that it’s possible to feel safe and loved without being controlled, and for the first time, you truly believe it.

When the night finally ends, you’re wrapped in her embrace, feeling more at peace than you ever have before. Agatha’s presence is a balm to your soul, and you know that with her, you can face whatever the future holds.

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop

#ley writes #ley writes requests #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness

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puzzled-pegasus · 9 months ago

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wof headcanons but theyre oddly food and substance related for some reason

Although I understand why Tui didn't include very much info abt alchohol or drugs in a kids book there is an extreme lack of culinary related world building so here are some ideas I had while on this train of thought :)

SeaWings tend to be foodies and are generally given cooking classes in school. Which if you think about it, is rather important, because like 60 percent of the creatures in the ocean are poisonous and the rest have parasites and nasty germs so they need to know whats up when it comes to food safety.

SeaWings use a lot of citrus in their food and drinks and they also use it for fragrances and stuff they just really like it

SeaWing nobles commonly eat fugu and there have been assassinations where a chef was bribed to not properly take out the poison so the dragon eating it would die

SeaWings drink to taste. SkyWings drink to forget what century it is.

SkyWings typically eat their meat raw but on special occasions they will barbecue it and put some spices n stuff on it. They don't eat much else besides meat but they do like spicy things like peppers and they also like strong onion or garlic flavors. The little masochists. Anyway,

SkyWings don't really like sweet things and many of them can't even taste them so they're like wtf is a dessert

man do they love them some olives tho. Olives everywhere. In their drink. Out of the jar. On their meat. Oil on their scales. Oil in their hygiene products. They started trading them from the Sand and SeaWings millennia ago but theyve selectively bred ones that grow in the mountains

This one's more drugs than food but SkyWings will sometimes take some kind of stimulant before battle like a beserker so they're all fired up heheh

MudWings are excellent meal preparers and sibs like to all cook together so they'll make a big pot of stew or something

They like bread and desserts, they have easy access to sugar cane being along the east coast and they also use a lot of honey. They're re into canning stuff too, they have a lot of raspberries and blackberries and strawberries in their temperate forest areas and they grow them to make jam and wine and they use honey to make mead

basically they are Cottagecore(TM) and I love them

They also eat lots of freshwater fish and crawfish and whatnot

And they also eat a lot of tatoes

Vanilla grows in the swamps, they use that in their cakes

MudWings deserve some appreciation goddamnit their kingdom is biologically diverse and beautiful

SandWings have tequila because. Yknow. Cactus.

They eat a lot of bugs and lizards, they don't really need to eat every day so it's not a huge deal

they do like coconuts tho and they use coconut oil in a lot of their hygiene products as well as in their cooking

They deep fry a lot of shit. Idk where i got this but trust me. They love things with lots of fat in it bc they need all they can get

Really sticky sweet desserts and candy; enjoyers of those one lollipops with the mealworms or whatever tf in them

also canning stuff like bone broth is very important

pickled cactus as well

rhey probably have a festival when cactus fruit goes in season

what even is IceWing cuisine.

Well way up north where there's nothing but ice it's pretty bad and the dragons have to eat just plain ass meat and seafood, but down into the tundras there's some pretty good stuff like cinnamon, pines for tea, honey berries, and other foraging as well as more diversity of meats

They would probably eat sushi

All the other tribes like to make fun of them and rightfully so bc their food is so plain

they make good honey berry wine tho

Maube that's why theyre so damn grumpy

RainWings are expert foragers ofc but they don't really feel the need to prepare their food in any way

They are, however, in constant dire need of sodium because they get absolutely none from their fruit

So anything salty is wow

Maybe rhey have a place near the mud kingdom border where they can grow some asparagus for salt

they are also the only tribe besides Night that can eat chocolate but forgor 💀 how to make it so the NightWings and them have to re figure it out together

Salted dark chocolate bing bang boom instant delicacy

NightWings used to be able to cook really well, especially desserts and pastry, but they forgor while they were trying to not die on the volcano

#wof #wings of fire #wof headcanons #this one is really long im sorry #food #alcohol #tw drug mention

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kittyoncescribbled · 15 days ago

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Check-Mate, part 4.

Summary: Mihawk thought he was too old to believe in silly things like love at first sight, but things change;

Word count: 2,624;

Rating/Content Warnings: PG-16, fem reader;

Author’s note: -

Previous chapter || Next chapter

Mihawk learned to loathe the silence; when he got up early, he craved the little noises that you would make around the house: the shower running, you rummaging through your things, the little tunes you would hum to yourself while getting ready for the day. The way you always had coffee in his cup when he entered the kitchen, or how you kept a mental note of his favorite dishes and cooked them quite frequently.

He realized this wasn’t like him, as someone who looked for peace and balance. That morning, he was still in his quarters, fresh from the shower and with shaving cream along his face and neck, while he reflected on the small changes he had made in his routine and preferences to accommodate you. The truth is that he didn’t mind it one bit and was happy to concede to you, but after so much time being used to having other people bend to his will, it felt strange to be wrapped around your finger.

His train of thought was interrupted by a blood-curdling scream coming from the kitchen.

Without thinking twice, Mihawk ran downstairs, grabbing the closest thing he could find — a small dagger — and busted into the kitchen, looking for the one person who had the audacity to enter his home.

You were kneeling close to the fridge, holding on to a spatula for dear life while shaking and silently weeping, while Shanks and Beckman stood in the middle of the room, both confused and surprised; Shanks was closer to you, halfway down to a kneeled position and reaching out to you so as to try to calm you down without actually touching you while Beckman stood back, flabbergasted. Mihalk could feel the beginning of a migraine coming, which only happened whenever he saw Shank’s face, but he merely lowered his weapon and came close to you, putting you back on your feet. “Come on, Y/N, it’s fine. Shanks and Beckman are not welcome, but they are not going to hurt you either.” Your skin felt cold and clammy through the thin material of your clothes, and you still had your spatula held tight against your chest as if that was the thing that would keep you safe. “Sorry girl, wasn’t trying to scare anyone,” Shanks said while rubbing his neck, “We’re just not used to Hawkeye having company, so we weren’t expecting to see anyone else around here. But not gonna lie, it was almost worth scaring you so we could see Hawkeye with shaving cream all over his face.”

You wiped the tears away with the back of your hand and giggled while Mihawk could feel his irritation growing. “I am going back upstairs; I will be back in a moment.” Mihawk turned around and went back to his quarters so he could clean himself up and get his annoyance under control — which did take him a while. As much as he respected Shanks for the pirate he way, there was no denying that the redheaded had a knack for getting under his skin.

When he got back into the kitchen, you had already whipped a full-on breakfast feast for the two pirates: a pile of pancakes topped with berries and drizzled with honey, bacon, eggs, orange juice, and jam jars were spread on the kitchen table, and you were sitting between the two men while Mihawk’s cup, unattended, was close to the coffee pot. Shanks had his mouth half-full telling you a story while Beckman drank a cup of juice, and you listened closely to whatever Red was saying. Mihawk had no clue how you made yourself so comfortable around Shanks in such little time, but that was the effect he had on people; while Mihawk imposed respect with his mere presence, many were fooled by Shanks' relaxed and laid-back posture, unaware of how dangerous he could be.

Pouring himself some coffee, Mihawk stood back while admiring the scene unfolding at his own kitchen table: you, in your yellow summer dress, and your hair falling down your shoulders, giggling and blushing while Shanks had his arm around your chair. Mihawk turned his back to the both of you as he could feel his eye twitch out of annoyance, and his jaw started to hurt from clenching it too much. When Mihawk turned back again, he saw Shanks fishing a piece of pancake out of your dish and using it to spoon some extra honey and, for some reason, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

“Alright, I think that is enough. Darling,” he said, guiding you up from your chair and directing you to the back door with one hand on your small back while handing you your plate with the other, “would you mind having breakfast in the garden while I talk with Shanks and his man?” Without really having an option, you grabbed your glass, took your plate, and went out to leave the men to discuss their business amongst themselves.

Shanks watched you leave and looked up to Mihawk, who was still standing. “A princess, Hawkeye? Well, I never took you for the type to-”

“Shut up, Red. Just say what you came here to say and leave.” Shanks raised his brows and smiled mischievously, popping a blueberry into his mouth. “C'mon, Hawkeye, you have a pretty little thing, a runaway pretty little thing, living with you in this big ass castle, and you don't want us to talk about it?”

“Precisely. She is staying here as bounty hunters knew she would be with the straw hats, and some of them were stupid enough to try kidnapping her from their ship. So if you go around opening that big mouth of yours, you are defeating the whole purpose of Y/N being here.”

“Oh, and that's the only reason why she's here?”

“Why else would she be here, Red?”

“Who posed the idea for her to stay here, Hawkeye?”

Mihawk could feel the vein on his forehead popping, the way only Shanks could do.

“Red, I will not discuss the ins and outs of my arrangement with Y/N. Just say what you came here to say, grab your men and leave.”

“Oh, so we're on a first-name basis, huh? And you called her ‘darling’ before… Nice, nice.” Shanks winked at Mihawk and Beckman snorted and laughed, which just made the swordsman even more annoyed. “But I'm merely here because I need to cross-check some information.”

By the time Shanks came out to the garden to say goodbye, your breakfast was long gone, and you were merely enjoying the view accompanied by Midnight. The pirate sat by your feet in the chaise lounge with a mischievous smile as he could see Mihawk glaring at him through the windows. The swordsman couldn't hear what was being said, but he saw you throwing your head back in laughter, lightly clapping your hands. Even the damned cat was favoring Shanks, as it was now rubbing all over his legs, begging for scritches. Eventually, Shanks got up, and you did as well, hugging him before the red-haired came back inside, where Beckman waited for him. Tapping Mihawk on the shoulder, Shanks signaled to his right-hand man that they were leaving. “We'll stop bothering you for now, Hawkeye. But don't worry, your secret is safe with us.”

Mihawk merely finished his cup of coffee, which had gone cold by this point, and let Shanks and Beckman let themselves out. When you came back to the kitchen, with Midnight held in one hand and balancing your cup on top of your plate in your other hand, he could swear that he could still smell Shanks’ cologne on your, making him involuntarily scrunch up his nose.

“You should have told me about your friends. They're fun!” You said joyfully while starting to clean up the kitchen. “Shanks has a lot of stories, and Beckman is such a nice guy. Too bad my first impression wasn't the best.” Mihawk scoffed an rolled his eyes; like so many people, you weren’t immune to Shanks’ charm.

“They shouldn't be walking into someone's house without making their presence known. They shouldn't have scared you like that.”

“It was a bit embarrassing, wasn't it?”

“It was understandable.”

You smiled at him, still organizing things, pouring more coffee into his cup. “You’re too kind, Mihawk.”

He took a sip of his coffee and thought to himself how to word what he wanted to say. He wasn't the best with words or gestures, but he felt the need to do something.

“Darling, would you mind not being around while I cook dinner tonight? Just be sure to be down at seven.” You looked at him with a worried look on your face; Mihawk thought you looked almost hurt.

“Sure, sure… No problem.” You pressed your lips in a tight smile and grabbed Midnight, about to leave the kitchen.

“Y/N?” Mihawk called, and you stopped, turning around to face him. “Please don’t think there is anything wrong. I am just trying… something different.” You tilted your head while looking at him. “Didn’t take you for someone who would intentionally step out of your routine.”

“Me neither.”

Given that Mihawk seemed to consider that dinner important, you took your time preparing for it. You came down the stairs wearing an off-shoulder black dress paired with black pumps, your hair in an updo, and light makeup. The only piece of jewelry you had was a small golden cross on a thin chain around your necklace.

This was the closest you looked to the picture in your wanted poster and Mihawk stared at you unashamedly while you took a moment to look around the dining room: you had never seen it lit by so many candles, and the flower arrangement in the middle of the table was breathtaking: a mixture calla lilies, pink camellias, gardenias and red roses; You could smell the food and see a very expensive bottle of wine open in the decanter. Mihawk had clearly put a lot of thought into that dinner, and you felt touched by the gesture. Shyly, you walked until you were close to the chair he had pulled out for you and sat down, with the smell of the swordsman's cologne engulfing you like a cloud.

“You really didn't have to do all of this, Mihawk.” You said softly, clutching your hands. “You've done so much for me already, I should be the one doing something like this.”

“Darling, please. I am trying to do something.”

“What is it that you're trying to do?”

He poured you a glass of wine and didn’t respond, simply looking at you. Mihawk admired the blush that slowly crept on your neck and ears; under his intense gaze, you felt like a prey under the scrutiny of a predator, but it didn't make you want to run — in a weird way, it made you want to see what would come next; you didn't feel threatened at all, you felt just the thrill of the chase and desperately wanted to know what would happen next.

Mihawk could sense your eagerness and, smugly, chose to do things even slower: bringing out dinner, he enthralled you into a conversation about nothing of substance — he, who hated small talk, coaxed you into telling him all about your homeland: the food, the people, the clothes, the traditions… he managed to keep you speaking throughout the meal, from entrées to dessert.

As much as he thought he wasn't good when it came to expressing his feelings (and Mihawk would definitely throw himself out of the highest window he could find if anyone ever came close of thinking of him battling his feelings), Mihawk had acts of service as his love language; during the time you two had spent together, he had taken mental notes of the things you liked and disliked, and he made sure to prepare a dinner with all of your favorites.

Still listening attentively to you, Mihawk took you by the hand and guided you to the garden, where his old record player was already set up. An old-timey song played softly, just enough for you to feel the beat and get yourself immersed in the atmosphere — just like Mihawk wanted.

Taking you by the hand, Mihawk started slowly waltzing with you in the garden. You felt your head spinning, breathless, as it was almost too much — the soft lights, the fireflies around, the perfume of the flowers, and the music. He could see that you were almost overwhelmed, your eyes dazed and glossy.

“Can I ask you a question?” you said in a small voice, looking up at him; Mihawk acquiesced with a nod. “You keep calling me darling, but… You had never called me that before today. Why?”

With a deep breath, the swordsman looked up to the night sky, trying to string the words correctly to try and convey exactly what he wanted; even though he was someone who was known for being precise and clear-cut, Mihawk wasn't exactly known for being talkative or expressive - quite the contrary, actually. “Miss Y/N, I do admit that I was intrigued by you since I first saw you; you stood out with the strawhats in such a way that I could not stop myself from gravitating towards you. Of course, by then I already knew some pieces of your story, the little information that had been divulged in the newspapers, but during that game of chess we had, even though we didn't speak much, I felt drawn to you. Asking you to move here was definitely something out of character for me, but the thought of you moving on with the strawhats and getting hurt was unbearable. Having you here was… different. Even though I have had long-term visitors before, having Roronoa and Perona around was similar to living with two toddlers, as they cannot be around each other without bickering; but you made this house into a home, somehow, despite being here for such little time. And earlier today, when I saw you and Shanks… it irritated me. Deeply. Because I don't want to have anyone having that, the domestic feeling that I have with you. Being completely honest, ‘darling’ was more of a warning to Shanks - not that it matters, as he couldn't care less. I just wanted him to leave us alone. I don't want to share you, Y/N.”

You looked at him, big eyes going all over his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. Mihawk saw you parting your lips slightly, trying to come up with something to say, but he couldn't resist the urge to slide his hand on your waist up to your nape and better angle your face so he could kiss you.

You gasped, surprised, feeling his beard tickling your face and his breathing against your skin; your pillowy lips, soft and warm, felt heavenly against his own. Closing your eyes, you shyly held onto his collar as Mihawk held you tightly, pressing his body into yours. He could feel how hard and fast your heart was beating as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the gasp he got out of you and the way your knees stopped working for a second; as much as he wanted to keep you there forever

Mihawk didn't want to stop kissing you, but he had to, as he could feel you getting out of breath. He pressed his forehead against yours, watching you trying to catch your breath, your chest moving rapidly and your cheeks flushed. “If we are ever to come close to Shanks again, he better keep his hand to himself.”

#mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #one piece fanfic #one piece #✍🏾 kitty writes

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isaacvalley · 2 months ago

Note

Who’s your favourite character to draw? This is not limited to ghost eyes, I mean just in general!

OH I HAVE SO MANYYYY

Tobias Schneien , Uni Cornelius, Berry Jars n Jam, Dog Man and Petey, Isaac the Lion, and soooo many others… ^_^ also Valley as well but he isn’t a character he’s my headmate !!!

(pictures in order: Uni, Valley, Isaac the Lion, Tobias, Berry Jars, and petey ^_^)

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no-context-lalas · 11 months ago

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Merry Christmas to all who celebrate!

Sunny, Berry, and Marina have all joined my collection!

Left to right: Sunny Side Up (carry case playhouse exclusive), Berry Jars n' Jam (Berry's Kitchen playset exclusive), Marina Anchors (Silly Funhouse line)

#lalaloopsy #dollblr #toyblr #doll collector #my lalas #< dont use this tag when you reblog

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losfacedevil · 1 year ago

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Change // SFK (Pt 6)

a/n ~ Things are starting to get real. I hope you all love this as much as I loved writing it.

CATCH UP ON ALL THINGS FARMERS MARKET HERE!

“So what did your little girlfriend want the other night that couldn’t wait until morning?” Danny teased, pulling the jars of pickles Sam had finally mastered out of the refrigerator.

Sam shrugged his shoulders softly, his mind still reeling with what she had confided in him. He slowly made up her basket - this one purple - and Danny quickly loaded up the rest of the weeks product into his milk crates. Sam replayed their conversation over and over, realizing just how her tone of voice had changed the more she spoke.

“He said god awful things to me.”

“Did he yell at you a lot?”

“On and off he did, yeah. So it’s still a big trigger.”

He shook his head, clearing his mind of the thoughts of her as he turned to face Danny. The older boy quirked a brow, sliding a jar of bruise berry jam across the counter.

“She claims she just wanted to know who the number belonged to. But honestly? I think she just needed someone to talk to.” He shrugged again, slipping two jars of sweet chili pickles into the basket. Danny nodded, turning on his heel to grab another milk crate from the stack behind him.

“I told you, there was something about you that was drawing her to you. The fact that she called you when she could have called anyone? It says a lot.” Danny couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he hoisted the milk crate off of the counter and turned on his heel to make his way towards the pick up truck.

Sam pulled a deep breath in through his nose, gently rearranging everything in the basket until he was satisfied with how it looked. He was surprised to hear his phone chime with an incoming text, knowing Danny would just yell if he needed help.

“Was that you?” He called out, quickly pulling his phone out of his pocket. He couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as his phone screen came to life.

Fia

Good morning, my love, I’ll see you soon!

~*~*~

Sophia was shaking with nerves, quickly hitting send on the text she had been toying around with all morning. She slid her phone across the kitchen counter, turning her attention to the bread she had placed in the toaster rather than the fact that she had sent Sam a silly good morning text.

Her toaster popped at the same time her phone chimed, causing her breath to catch in her throat as she slowly opened the jar of bruise berry jam. She took her time slowly spreading the jam across the warm toast, making sure to keep her eyes trained on the task at hand as a reminder chime sounded.

She took a deep breath, letting her eyes flutter shut and took a bite of her breakfast before turning her attention to her phone. She steeled herself, trying to mentally prepare for disappointment if it wasn’t a response from him before lifting her phone. The device came to life as she swiped her finger across the screen and she felt the blush begin to creep up her neck.

Samuel <3

Good morning sweet girl, did you sleep well? Let me know when you get to the market and I’ll meet you at the gate. See you later!

She pulled a shuddering breath in through her nose, the smile kissing her lips reaching up to touch the corners of her eyes. Her head fell back as she clutched the phone to her chest, the emotions dancing through her veins overwhelming her and she willed back the tears that pricked at her eyes.

“It’s just Sammy, he just wants to get to know you.” She mumbled, quickly shooting back a confirmation text.

Sophia turned on her heel, toast in hand and she made her way towards her bedroom. Her mind was set on her favorite spaghetti strap sundress, one that she wasn’t allowed to wear because it showed too much cleavage for her ex’s liking.

~*~*~

Danny rolled his eyes as Sam’s phone chimed for the tenth time, pulling his attention away from the booth set up once more. The older boy knocked the phone out of Sam’s hand, scooping it up and sliding it into his own pocket.

“You can have it back once you help me finish this set up.” Danny grumbled, ignoring the side long glare Sam shot him as he started to quickly set up his baskets of product. A sigh slipped past Sam’s lips as he bent down to grab the jars of pickles only to realize one had broken in transit.

“Daniel, you didn’t tell me a jar of pickles broke.” Sam whined, carefully picking up the cracked jar and turned to toss it in the trash can.

“I didn’t even realize which means the truck bed is gonna reek!” He groaned, reaching up to scrub a hand down his face. Sam shook his head lightly, shrugging his shoulders as he dug his hand into Danny’s pocket for his phone.

“We’ll hit it with the hose later, Jake will never know. But I’ll be right back, I told Sophia I would meet her at the gate when she got here.” Sam mumbled, throwing his thumb over his shoulder as he started to make his way towards the patron parking lot.

Sam’s eyes wandered about the booths, taking in all of the beautiful things people had made to try and make a living off of. From fresh produce to the daintiest crystal jewelry there was a little bit of everything this week. He made a mental note of some of the sellers, hoping to catch up with them after the market had ended.

He spotted her car instantly, watching as she slipped out of the drivers seat and reached down to smooth out her dress. Sam’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of her, his eyes dancing down her figure and landing on the dainty gold anklet around her ankle.

Sophia caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, a soft blush kissing her cheeks as she realized he had stopped in his tracks and his eyes were trained fully on her. She put on a little show, keeping her head down and twirling in his direction so her skirt flowed on the soft breeze.

She lifted her head, making a show of tucking her hair behind her ear before her eyes met his. She waved gently in his direction before slowly making her way over to where he stood. A soft smile kissed his lips as he took her in.

“Hi.” She breathed, the smile kissing her lips meeting her eyes and he took a step towards her.

“Hey.” His chest vibrated with nerves, a feeling he hadn’t ever felt around her.

Sophia wrung her hands out in front of her, digging the toe of her shoe into the dirt below her feet. He took another step towards her, reaching out slowly to tuck the strand of hair that had come loose back behind her ear. Her eyes fluttered shut, heart hammering in her chest and she leaned into his soft touch.

She opened her arms to him, eyes gleaming as she found his and smiled warmly at him. Sam couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that escaped him as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He took mental notes as she buried her face in the soft material of his shirt. He cupped the back of her head in his hand, scratching his nails lightly against her scalp and he swayed their bodies gently.

“How was your night? No more nightmares?” Sam mumbled, resting his chin against the crown of her head. Sophia shook her head gently, tightening her arms around his middle.

“No, not last night at least. The other night was rough though but it was super late so I didn’t want to bother you.” She kept her voice soft, the words slipping past her lips in a tiny formation compared to his booming voice. Sam let his eyes flutter shut, reveling in the soft scent of watermelon that wafted off of her skin.

“You can bother me, any time. I promise.” He mumbled, fighting the urge to press a kiss to the crown of her head. She shrugged her shoulders gently, turning her head to rest her chin against his sternum and looked up at him.

“Thank you, really. But I don’t want to be that person.” She mumbled, watching as he turned his head downward to face her. Sam reached around a pressed the tip of his finger to the tip of her nose, a silent statement only she’d understand.

“We should probably make our way back over there before Danny has my head on a silver platter. He’s in rare form today.” A frown tugged at Sophia’s lips as she untangled herself from Sam’s embrace.

“Should I just go then? I don’t want to be a bother if he’s already upset.” Sam shook his head, placing his hand on her lower back and nodded in the direction of his booth.

“He’ll get over it, I have something for you that’s not jam.” He chuckled, slowly leading her across the field. Sophia reached out and wrapped her arm around his waist, nuzzling her head against his shoulder as the booth came into view.

Danny looked up as the couple made their way over to the booth, a soft smile playing on his lips as he saw how close they were. He bent at the waist, leaning his elbows down against the table.

“Ah so you’re the reason Sammy boys been so distracted these past few days, huh?” Danny chuckled, his eyes trained on Sam as the younger boy rounded the table and pulled the basket out from under the table. A blush spread across Sophia’s cheeks at Danny’s words, her eyes finding her feet and she shrugged gently.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be.” She mumbled, keeping her eyes trained on her feet as flashbacks erupted in her mind.

“You don’t even let me talk to my friends or play games with them anymore. I’m always with you I do everything with you and it fucking sucks. Do you know how tiring you get to be around?” He spat, ripping open the cover of his laptop. A sigh slipped past her lips and she took a step back.

“I’m sorry, I just like spending time with you. All you have to do is say the word and I’ll let you be.”

He shook his head, logging on to his messaging server before turning to face her.

“Yeah right, you needy stupid bitch.”

Tears welled in Sophia’s eyes as she looked up at Danny, the boy chuckling and snapping in her direction. Her eyes snapped to Sam, concern playing across his features as she turned on her heel and took off at a run towards the parking lot.

Danny deflated, turning to face Sam who stood to his right, arms crossed over his chest and he pinched at the bridge of his nose. He knew what had happened and knew it wasn’t his business to share. Reaching over he clapped a reassuring hand to Danny’s shoulder.

“What… what did I do? I didn’t mean to offend her.” Danny’s voice was barely above a whisper, his heart breaking for the girl who had tore away from them.

“Don’t worry about it dude, she’s okay.”

~*~*~

Sam nodded to Danny as he began the wrap up of the booth as the market came to a close for the night. He took off at a jog, hoping to catch one of the artists at a different booth before they began packing up for the night.

“Hey bud!” He called, pulling a deep breath in through his nose as he came to a stop in front of the booth.

“What’s up, man?” The other man questioned, putting a hold on packing up. Sam lifted a dainty golden anklet with small stones accenting it, and held it in the merchants direction.

“How much for this?” He asked, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he thought of how good it would look paired with Sophia’s original anklet.

“For a fellow merchant? Say ten bucks. For your lady?” He chuckled, taking the money Sam held out to him.

“Yeah something like that.” He mumbled, pocketing the small piece of jewelry before heading back to his own booth.

~*~*~

Sam pulled up to her house, knowing he may be overstepping boundaries but not caring about that in the moment. He knew what Danny had found as silly banter triggered her fight or flight response and she had fled the scene. He pulled his phone out and pulled her contact up, pressing the call command before pressing the phone to his ear.

She watched as his name lit up her phone screen, taking a moment to decide if she was going to answer before sliding the answer bar across the screen and pressed her phone to her ear.

“Hey, are you okay?” She sighed in response, reaching up to place a hand over her face. His eyes were trained on her house, noting that not a single light was turned on.

“Fia? Are you okay?” He tried again, silently cursing Danny for upsetting her. She knew he hadn’t meant anything malicious by it but still couldn’t help but take off. Sam pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling on the skin before trying one last time.

“Babe, are you okay?” He cringed slightly ad the pet name absentmindedly slipped past his lips. He could hear her shuffling around, most likely hidden in the comfort of her bed before a small voice dance down the line.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry.” She choked out, tears welling in her eyes once more. Sam shook his head wildly, even though she couldn’t see before he opened his drivers side door.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. Danny doesn’t know, your natural reactions are different than most and that’s okay.” He cooed, quickly making his way to the passengers side. He dug the small merchant bag out containing the anklet out of his pocket and slipped it into her basket before he slid her basket of farmers market goodies out of the seat.

“I grossly overreacted. Tell Danny I’m sorry please. I didn’t mean to offend him.” She sighed, letting her eyes flutter shut as the tears began to fall down her cheeks.

“You didn’t overreact. You’re still not fully in control of your emotions and that’s okay. Big feelings exist and it’s okay to feel those big feelings.” Sam cooed, making his way to her front porch and gently placed the basket down on her stoop. He pulled his phone away from his ear briefly, snapping a photo and sent it to her in a text. He scurried away quickly, hopping back into his car and sped off.

“Sammy, what’s this?” He could hear the excitement in her voice as the shuffling of her blankets faded away and that of footsteps on stairs sounded.

“I think doordash dropped you off a little pick me up. They said the prettiest girl ever needed to turn her frown upside down.” He chuckled, pulling over up the street from her place.

“Pickles?! Sammy you made me pickles?! Where are you?” A smile spread across his face as her excitement grew, watching in his rear view mirror as she stepped to the edge of the stairs and peered down the street.

“Gone like speed racer, I didn’t want to overstep too many boundaries tonight.” A soft sigh slipped past her lips as her tone went from excited to almost that of disappointment.

“Come back? Maybe? Please?” He could almost hear the pout on her lips as he shook his head and began to take off.

“It’s late sweet girl, how about this? I’ll forfeit the market tomorrow morning and we can do breakfast or something? Maybe spend the day in the park. Whatever you want to do, it’s your call.”

Sam held his breath as the line went silent, he almost thought the line had gone dead before he heard the soft gasp that escaped her.

“Samuel! What is this?!” She scolded. He couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped his lips.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning say nine? Sleep well, sweet girl.”

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @puzzle-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @vanfleeter @ppoutine @aintthatapity @twistedmelodies @gvfpal @psychedelicsprinkles

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiszka angst #sam kiszka x oc #sam kiszka fic #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka fanfiction #greta van fleet

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dazed-poltergeist · 2 years ago

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A Tree of Fellowship and Love

Pairing: (LOTR) Aragorn x reader x Arwen

Summary: You collectively decide with the fellowship to go on a picnic! No more rings or fighting evil, just a picnic under a big tree with plenty of food to share. Also, you may or may not fall asleep under the said tree at night and get smothered with affection with a certain pair of fantastic people.

Warnings: None in particular

Add. Notes: I simply could not figure out where it would be an appropriate place to have a picnic, considering all the places the characters came from/went to, so I went with Hobbiton. At this point I'm both accepting and denying everything that happened in the story; Aragorn and Arwen walk around as if they aren't rulers of Gondor, Boromir isn't dead, and Frodo, Legolas and Gimli haven't gone to the undying lands, and yet everything in LOTR has already happened.

Masterlist ✧⁠*⁠。

> ✉️ <

{ Hello there! I decided to change this blog to the kind that posts about... anything, really. Since I "converted" into an all-fics-n-shits-blog, I changed the aesthetic aswell. To spice (not exactly) these messages up a lil bit, I'll start adding little things about myself; for example, I'm a cat person! }

- Eero, Jan 2023

It was a relatively uneventful day in Hobbiton, and Sam was describing to you the qualities of the plants he was currently tending to. It was bound to be simple and uneventful if you lived in a place like Hobbiton, but you weren't interested in books and gardening. You wanted to spend time with people, and certainly not like this.

You brainstormed along with Merry and Pippin about things you could possibly do with friends in a place like Hobbiton. You already told them at the start of the brainstorming session that stealing vegetables from a dismayed farmer is out of the question. Merry remembered a big meadow with a large tree - which conveniently happened to be near the village - and suggested that something could be done there. A picnic was the best thing that came to your mind, and the two hobbits loved the said idea.

After a quick trip to the rest of the fellowship's homes it was decided; tomorrow you would have a picnic under a large tree that you are yet to see. You asked Merry to take you to the meadow he had mentioned, and so he did. When the two of you made it there, you were surprised that you had never even noticed it; it looked like the kind you'd see in dreams. There was lots of tall grass and colorful flowers of many kinds, and in the middle of it all, there was a large, green tree that every child would wish to climb on top of. It was the perfect place to have a picnic with old friends.

The next morning you began to prepare food for the picnic you had arranged with the fellowship. Aragorn, Arwen and Legolas got the task of creating sandwiches, Boromir and Gimli had to make drinks, and the hobbits, along with you, were tasked to make desserts. You got plenty of help from the hobbits, for they had a lot of cooking experience thanks to the meal schedule average hobbits had. They decided to cook some blackberry pancakes and bake milk bread.

After a bunch of flour and dough spills, you had finished the bread and pancakes, and packed them up into a basket along with a few plates and a jar of berry jam. The four hobbits went ahead of you to pick some extra blackberries for the pancakes while you were taking your time with getting to the picnic spot. You had only now realized that it's the afternoon.

As you were waiting for everyone else with the hobbits, Peregrin told you about the ents that caused the almost literal downfall of Isengard. He said that although he was high off his pants after that and probably in the middle of it too, he still remembered how uncomfortable it was to sit on Treebeard's shoulder. Meriadoc recalled how Pippin was concerned about not being able to have any children.

While the two aforementioned hobbits bickered about what really happened, you noticed the faces of your dear friends making their way through the meadow. You pointed it out to the hobbits, and the five of you began waving at them in an exaggerated yet adorable way. Legolas was already jogging in your general direction alongside Gimli, while Boromir was carrying a basket with drinks he had made with the said dwarf. Arwen and Aragorn were delighted to see you waving at them like that, and began waving back as the pair walked to the tree.

Boromir realized that nobody had brought any blankets to sit on, so he proposed to go back himself to bring one. But he didn't need to; Gandalf was already coming to the picnic tree with a large, rolled-up blanket under his arm. Now the entire fellowship was together.

You all put the baskets and personal items in each corner of the blanket so it wouldn't fly away with the wind, although there wasn't much wind to speak of. Aragorn took some small plates out of his basket with a few sandwiches, and Boromir pulled out a bottle of apple cider from his own basket. Aragorn finished giving out the little plates as Arwen handed the rest of the sandwiches to everyone.

Boromir was telling Sam about the cider-making process as everyone ate and listened. Every now and then someone would chirp in, until something Sam said reminded Gimli of the stories his father, Gloin, would tell him. Eventually the dwarf retold the story of Thorin's company's travels to Erebor. Frodo felt very proud of Bilbo for traveling with dwarves all the way to the Lonely Mountain, although he himself had accomplished a major feat aswell.

As the hours went by and the sky began getting darker, the members of the fellowship would tell stories from their own lives and from others. Most of the group was becoming tired of the day, and it was becoming evident; lots of yawning and words turning continuously quieter and quieter could be heard.

You only now realized that Aragorn and Arwen had moved next to you, and the latter motioned you to relax and let her hold you. You listened to her without a second thought, and now you were sitting in Arwen's lap as her arms were wrapped around you. Aragorn moved closer to Arwen and put his head on her shoulder.

It seemed that the rest of the fellowship took that as a hint and now began to wrap up their long conversation. Gimli packed the now empty bottles into Boromir's basket, and Legolas put the remaining plates into yours and Aragorn's baskets. Gandalf asked everyone to get off the blanket and move their things, and then rolled up the said blanket like a carpet.

The hobbits also knew that you would stay longer, so they took your basket and left with it themselves. Most of your friends followed them away from the tree back to Hobbiton, leaving you, Aragorn, and Arwen under the big tree with stars.

The three of you sat back down on the ground, and tried to get into a comfortable position that would work for three people. You sat back in Arwen's lap, held by her bridal style, as Aragorn sat infront of her. You were now sitting between your lovers, unsure of what to do now; your mind began going to all sorts of places, until Aragorn gave a little kiss on your forehead.

Because you still didn't know what to do, you just froze in place as your face heated up from the move Aragorn pulled on you. Arwen grinned at your reaction, and gave multiple kisses onto your face, causing you to hide your head between your shoulders to get away from the kisses. That didn't stop Aragorn from giving a peck on the top of your head, though, and now you were back in your initial position, embarrassed that they saw you in such a state.

You thought that the "kiss wave" was over when Arwen helped you readjust your position to laying down next to her, but no; oh how mistaken you were. The elf gave you yet another peck on the cheek, and Aragorn came in from your other side and wrapped his arms around your torso, and also gave you a kiss after making himself comfortable.

Arwen put an arm around you aswell, and began whispering words to you in a language and manner you were yet to understand. Aragorn had already closed his eyes, and it seemed Arwen had aswell, although she was still whispering. You imitated them by closing your own eyes, too. You had fallen asleep to Arwen describing you in the best manner possible, even though you didn't understand a word she said.

The pair was actually still awake, and gave each other the look when they were certain that you were now in a sleeping state. Aragorn carefully lifted you up bridal style from the ground, and began carrying you away from the tree, while Arwen was right behind him with the remaining basket and personal items.

Unused paragraphs and things I didn't want to include in add. notes nor the "letter."

Instead of bringing you to your own house, Aragorn brought you to his, for it was closer to the tree and he didn't want to wake you up. Fortunately, nothing that they did disturbed your sleep. They changed into comfortable clothing after putting you into their bed, and then laid down next to you. They both whispered to you a "Sweet dreams, Y/N," and followed you to dreamland.

ー

One time Pippin told you about all of these mealtimes that Hobbits would have throughout the day; which aside regular meals included a second breakfast, an another, later breakfast, some afternoon tea, and yet another meal a few hours after dinner. When you needed something to zone out to, you liked to think of all the good food they would eat at those excessive meals.

To me, Arwen and Aragorn seem to be the kind of people that give the best forehead kisses, or any kinds of kisses in general, and whoever receives them would fucking melt in their hands like ice on a hot day. I definitely would've written their part longer if I was good with writing physical affection (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠ ) im sorry

I only now, after finishing writing this, realized that all of my fanfics' endings so far involve either death or falling asleep. I have a guess to why my ideas end with these things but I don't want to go there.

#eero's fics #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #lotr aragorn #lotr arwen #lotr #lotr x you #aragorn x reader #arwen x reader #arwen x aragorn #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings fic

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okay-j-hannah · 2 years ago

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Part 4: The Griever

The Lord of the Rings : Multishot

Samwise Gamgee x Reader

Word count: 6138

Warnings: 😢 talk of grief and loss. 💙 slight depression. 🥰 love. 🥰 love. 🥰 love.

Request: “Could I request a multishot with samwise gamgee x reader and sam has always had a crush on her, but on their journey he realizes she's even better than he imagined her to be (like when you stop crushing but actually fall in love)” @the-narnian-sea

A/N: I’ve skipped Caradhras, the mines of Moria, and the river Anduin

Part 3: The Heroine

Part 4: The Griever {You Are Here}

Part 5:

S.R. 1395

The sun was beginning to sink below the grassy hills of the Shire, warming the hobbit holes with the orange summer night air. Little (Y/N), not yet old enough to be considered a tween, was stretching her fingers towards the warm orange glow.

Her not so little hobbit feet were directed towards the distant tree line, a rust colored leather and linen pack across one shoulder.

She was quite determined this time. This time she meant it. She was going to run away – for real. The trees sang for her with their shimmering leaves made golden by the setting sun. The nimble squirrels and clever foxes called to her with their scurrying steps. The wild berries, round and bright, begged to be picked and eaten.

There was absolutely, positively, no way she was going to chicken out and return home within a fortnight. Not like the other four times.

She felt her steps become lighter as she neared the forest edge, excitement making her feel as weightless as a cloud. She audibly giggled, “I wonder if the owls have still nested in the great northern oak,” she muttered to herself.

The forest meant she could discuss these serious matters aloud without the fear of pointed ears searching for tavern gossip.

“Surely they’ve protected my stash of poisonous arrows.” She flounced as the crickets began to speak to her in turn, as if she adorned one of her mother’s custom hobbit dresses instead of the trousers she stole from Merry’s dresser.

“Poisonous arrows?” boomed a voice, “I had no idea you were so skilled in such alchemy.”

(Y/N) became stiff, choking on her own giggle. She tilted her head and slowly trailed her eyes up, up, up… to Gandalf.

The bearded old man smiled, blue eyes twinkling, “On the hunt for Wargs, no doubt.”

She began to smile sheepishly, “Master Gandalf…”

“I see you’ve come prepared.” He nudged her leather pack with the end of his staff, “An attempt to run away?”

“No!” she said loudly, “I… I just went to pick some summer berries for my mother’s jam. She’s been preparing the jars all day.”

Gandalf gave a gruff, “Humph,” as his staff poked further and lifted the pack flap. Just on the surface was a checkered cloth of bread and cheese and a set of flint and steel, tied together with string.

“Do you need a fire to prepare these summer berries?”

(Y/N) added rosy cheeks and downcast eyes to her sheepish face. “Did my parents send you?”

“No, my dear,” Gandalf said warmly, “I was merely on a stroll myself.”

“Are you going to take me home?”

The wizard scratched at his beard as if blind to the young hobbit’s embarrassment. “I don’t see a reason why. I would hate to disturb such a beautiful evening by escorting an excellent forester to reprimanding parents.”

(Y/N) tucked a bundle of crazed hobbit curls behind her ear, hopeful eyes returning to the old man, “I quite agree, Master Gandalf.”

“Wonderful,” he said, planting his staff forward, “Then I would like to invite you on my stroll into the woods.”

Her head perked, “I would be delighted!” And she bounced alongside his considerate pace. “I thought for sure my plans were dashed.”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Gandalf said, leading the way as the sky darkened from lavender to indigo. “But now that we are on our way, I would inform you of a splendid clearing just ahead, nestled in a grove of trees.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to catch the wizard’s face, “Is that so?”

“Perhaps we could put that flint and steel to good use?”

“I thought you could conjure fire with your magic.”

Gandalf concealed a warming chuckle, “I have lit the occasional smoking pipe, it is true. But a young forester learns nothing by watching a wizard use magic.”

Little (Y/N) and Master Gandalf then spent the majority of the night in the beforementioned clearing between the trees. (Y/N) showed the wizard how she fashioned crooked arrows from fallen sticks. Gandalf taught her to blow through a blade of grass to produce a whistle.

The pair of them gathered kindling for a small fire beneath the canopy of leaves and starlight. (Y/N) attempted to create a spark large enough to set the dry grasses aflame, but after a few attempts Gandalf sent a concealed spell that made the wood smolder and light instantly.

He didn’t say anything as (Y/N) turned to him positively beaming, “I did it!”

“That you did, my dear,” he laughed, “That you did.”

They each told stories of their adventures – Gandalf’s considerably more grand with his talk of mountains and mines and the sea. Although, (Y/N)’s were far more enjoyable as she required the use of her entire body to describe exactly how large the fish was that pulled her into the Brandywine River.

Gandalf revealed a cloth bundle of his own that revealed a few sausage links and tomatoes. It sent (Y/N) down another imagined adventure where she was a famed chef of the most noble kingdoms of old. A traveling cloak she packed for the cold now tied around her waist, she prepared the food and handed a roasting stick to the wizard.

Feasting on smoked sausage, grilled tomatoes, and fresh bread, (Y/N) found herself falling dangerously close to sleep, her eyes becoming heavier and heavier.

Gandalf removed the cloth being used as a plate from her lap and sat closer in case she fell to her dreams. “I’ve enjoyed our evening together, Miss. (Y/N).”

She smiled, “I’m grateful I ran into you, Master Gandalf.”

He matched her smile, “Might I inquire of something, my dear?” At her tired nod he continued, “What prompted you to make such a journey to the wood?”

Searching for the words, she hummed. “Pervinca Took spread an awful rumor at the pond today.”

Gandalf arched a bushy eyebrow, “Your cousin?”

“Pippin’s older sister,” she said quietly, feeling the heavy effects of sleep, “She told everyone that the reason I’m so peculiar is because I’m not actually a hobbit at all. I am some halfling troll adopted into a generous hobbit family.”

Gandalf frowned, softly placing his arm around the young girl, “As you said, it is but a rumor. A form of trickery to satisfy ignorant and jealous feelings.”

“Pervinca’s jealous of me?”

“She doesn’t know how to have fun,” Gandalf tickled under her chin, and she squirmed with laughs, “And doesn’t know who she is, unlike yourself.”

“Who am I then, Gandalf?” She ended her squirming with nestling beside the old man, wrapped in the grey drapery of his cloak.

He watched her drift off to sleep, having stayed up too late for a child so young. “An excellent young forester and admirable companion. You are someone who is just beginning, yet wise beyond your years. I have no doubt that you’ll surpass the legends you create within your mind just as you have surpassed the expectations of the hobbits in this Shire.”

The old wizard sent another concealed spell of magic through the trees, requesting his waiting horse and wagon to appear. The wide expanse of the wagon filled with fireworks and other tinkering objects, Gandalf rose to carry (Y/N) to the riding bench up front.

He extinguished the fire and retrieved their supplies, giving an encouraging pat to the horse that waited so patiently when the wizard asked it to graze while he approached the wandering hobbit girl he spotted running to the woods.

They made a slow journey home, (Y/N) snug in Gandalf’s side. The old man returned to her parents, assuring them she was quite all right. He ensured her safety and peace of mind before escorting her to the hobbit hole.

They expressed their gratitude, but Gandalf merely waved them off and said, “She is a remarkable girl, that (Y/N). I look forward to the adventures we’ll have together.”

~~~

Present Day

Gandalf was a great deal many things to many people.

He was a disturber of the peace, wise councilman to all races, a mysterious traveler that peddled his fireworks, and a symbol of aid and magic.

But to (Y/N) he was her friend. A friend that spent many evenings distracting her from the ignorance and pity of the Shire through adventures in the wood and lessons of the world. Besides her family, her three cousins, and her scattered friendships with those like Samwise, Gandalf was of the few that was genuinely kind.

He was a gateway to outside the Shire – she adored and revered him.

Now he was gone.

The fellowship was somberly making their way towards the woods ahead, leaving the damnable remains of Moria behind. The only motivation to move was the fear of orcs and goblins daring to venture outside the sanctuary of their mines.

And to not shame Gandalf’s sacrifice to get them out.

(Y/N) lingered at the back of the group, scratching at the mixture of tears and earth smeared on her face. Dirt and coal and grime from beneath the mountain caked her knuckles and smudged her complexion.

It smelt of damp caves, coppery tangs, and death.

She dug in her pockets for a scrap of cloth to clean her face and relieve her of the horrid remnants of the mines. She found a square white handkerchief with the initials S.G. sewn in the corner with blue thread.

She rubbed at her eyes carelessly and rough, pulling the handkerchief away to see large blotches of black. She couldn’t make a sound as she cried, folding the dirtied cloth to a clean side and scrubbing at her chin and neck.

“Here.”

Her ruddy, blotched face found Samwise approaching, hand outstretched. The rest of the slow moving fellowship was venturing deeper into the woods.

(Y/N) bowed her head as she realized he was asking for the handkerchief. He retrieved the cloth and dampened it with his waterskin. Slowly and gently he used the wet corners to clean her face.

“We should stay close,” he said quietly, “I understand not wanting to be near the fellowship, but I don’t want you straying from my side.” He washed beneath her eyes and around her cheeks, “Please.”

She couldn’t reply, her throat strained from trying to contain her cries. She nodded instead, which seemed to lift Sam’s spirits. Boldly he offered his hand and ensured they both made it back to their companions.

He didn’t ask her to speak, only supported her sorrowful heart with his hand in hers.

The fellowship was quiet and heavy the following nights, recovering from their harrowing journey into the mines of Moria. With such a close scrape with death among everyone in the company, each member had a revigorated sense of their own mortality.

(Y/N) could see the realization within her boisterous cousins. Merry put on a brave face, but Pippin struggled to keep his cries quiet at night. (Y/N) had the suspicion that the burden of the Ring had put Frodo in this dark mindset before.

It seemed to only press Samwise to be more candid about his affections towards her. As if small confessions and the fear of loss caused him a new sense of protectiveness for (Y/N).

During another long night of troublesome sleep, (Y/N) found her eyes open at the sound of the lookout being switched.

“You’re the last,” came Boromir’s gruff, lowered tone. “You’ll be here til daybreak.”

Sam replied, “Thank you.”

It was now common that the sound of Sam’s wakeful voice stirred (Y/N) from her sleep. And this night was no different as she waited for Boromir to crash on his bedroll.

She wrapped her blanket around her shoulders and rose for the log that Sam was sitting upon. After a few nights of this routine, he wasn’t so surprised to see her shadow grow from behind. He kept himself busy with something in his pack.

“Good evening,” he said quietly.

She sat beside him, eyeing the small smoldering flames of the campfire. Her words were sparse these days.

Sam was simply happy with the fact she desired his company. He pulled a thickset book from his pack, full of fresh, stocky pages. Digging further, he extracted a corked bottle and a smaller booklet wrapped with a belt.

(Y/N) watched him with an expressionless face. Since the events with Gandalf and the near death of her cousins, her lips held a slight frown in the corners. Her eyes were duller and heavy lidded.

Her heart felt stuffed in a too small chest.

Sam opened the first few pages of his book and revealed flattened flowers, glued and labeled with his quick scrawl.

(Y/N) found a piece of her buried beneath the sticky grief of memories perk up with interest. Perhaps Sam was compiling a botanical journal of plants he’d found while on the journey. She strained her eyes to read what the labels were saying.

Turning to a clean page, Sam retrieved the smaller booklet, undoing the buckle of the belt holding it closed. It opened to a page of print, but also more flowers pressed until they were flat. He delicately moved the dried plants to the garden journal.

Opening the corked bottle, a brush was pulled out stringy and thick with glue. He painted a section of the page, laying the flowers as if a prized possession. He ensured to brush the entire plant with the glue, keeping it in place.

In the upper corner he glued buds of blossom pink and speckled white, crisp and crinkled with being dried and pressed. In the lower corner he glued a few wildflowers adorned with rough grasses and wide leaves.

He recorked the glue bottle and traded it for a feathered pen, finding ink to carefully write in a clear space.

“Since you miss your gardens.”

(Y/N) blinked, “Is this a gardening journal?”

Sam hid a soft smile, “No.” He laid the book open to allow time for the new entry to dry.

“Are those…” (Y/N) continued, “Are those flowers I’ve given you?”

“Over the years,” Sam replied.

She felt her lips quiver, perhaps a smile attempting to make an appearance. “I knew you were sentimental, Sam, but that takes dedication.”

He shrugged, “I told you I’ve been dancing with the idea of you for years.” He gave her a tentative look, “It feels nice to tell you that now.”

She had to turn away to hide the warming smile on her face, “I always had my suspicions.”

“Did you really?”

“Well, when you’re tripping over yourself every time you see me and can barely speak to me, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with me.”

Sam drew in a deep sigh, “It was frustrating, is what it was. I couldn’t act like anything but a fool when you were around.”

She hummed thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t call you a fool. Twitterpated maybe.”

He nodded, “Twitterpated without a doubt. There’s always been something so enchanting about you.” His heart was quaking in his chest, but with his secret out in the open, speaking didn’t seem as impossible. “Gave me a silly crush.”

“Merry teased me about it when we were younger,” she mused, feeling the darkness of the past few days fade away, “Called me a damsel in need of a prince. He would joke that your nervous state was only ever when I was around. It sometimes made me think you didn’t like me.”

“Heavens, no,” he chuckled, “It was because I liked you too much.”

The seedlings growing in her heart had stretched into tall green stalks and broad leaves. They quivered at Sam’s tender words.

“I wish we could’ve explored it while still in the Shire.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, “Though I agree making something official now would make the journey more difficult… I hope my being candid in my affections isn’t overstepping.”

(Y/N) gazed at the glowing embers between them, a soft smile adorning her face, “In truth it makes me more determined to complete the mission and return home.”

Sam made an effort to contain the earsplitting grin trying to overtake his face. “I hope I didn’t imagine those words.”

She reached a hand over and placed it on his wrist, “Sam, I would be amiss to say I haven’t wished something more than friendship between us.” She grinned to see the wonder light in his eyes, “I’m glad to be here with you, Sam.”

He grabbed her hand between his and pressed a kiss there. “I’m going to ensure you’re by my side the remainder of this journey. I’ve got to make sure we return home together.”

~~~

Having ventured deep into the surrounding grey wood, elven friends found them quickly. Under the rule of the queen of Lothlorien, these elves led the fellowship to the heart of their forest.

The colors seemed to dim to sage and grey, somehow sparkling in the dull glow of the ancient magic of the elves. It was slow and peaceful and steady. (Y/N) could feel every beat of her heart and every breath enter her body.

Mighty Mallorn trees grew taller and thicker than all the others. Those of Lothlorien hollowed out the trunks and resided there. Small, rounded windows spiraled up the home trees, revealing candlelight and birdsong.

An elven leader, Haldir, led them to the inner city. Pale walls adorned in green, and silver sheltered them from the soft light of the sun.

It was put to shame by the entrance of the queen, the Lady Galadriel. She floated down the main staircase, a shimmering droplet of starlight descending from the heavens. She radiated elegance with every step.

(Y/N) found herself bowing her head without a prompt.

Another elf, grave and beautiful, spoke first, “Nine there are, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him.”

A hand squeezed (Y/N)’s heart.

Galadriel turned her piercing eyes from Frodo to (Y/N). “He has fallen into shadow,” she spoke quietly to her husband. She sought more answers in (Y/N)’s face and saw the dark blue rings beneath her eyes – the sunken state of her cheeks.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. You are guests here and will be treated as such.” Her mouth continued to move, but it didn’t match the words that (Y/N) heard in her head.

Galadriel was now speaking within her mind. Her hand jumped into Sam’s on instinct.

“Hello, forester. Spirit of the wood. I see your grief. I see it eating at your being.” The crystal blue of her eyes peered down at the hands of Sam and (Y/N) together. “I see your heart. It seeks comfort. Please find rest and reprieve in my home.”

(Y/N) blinked a few times before giving a simple nod. Sam squeezed her hand.

As if they’d always been there, an elf maiden motioned for (Y/N) to follow her. Making an effort to keep hold of Sam’s fingers until the last second, she whispered a farewell and followed her guide.

She was taken to one of the spiraling tree trunks, the soft white gold light of fireflies lighting their path. She was surprised to be given an entire bedchamber and ensuite washroom all to herself.

“Does this seem adequate to serve your needs?” the elf maiden asked quietly.

“More than adequate,” (Y/N) mumbled, sinking in on herself. “Where are my companions?”

“They have their own quarters,” the elf said, making her way to the washroom, “The Lady Queen thought it appropriate to give you your own room. Weeks in the wilderness with nine men seems a worthy enough reason for a girl to receive special attention.”

(Y/N) snorted, “How very gracious of her.”

But her heart yearned with a sudden pain of the moments she’d grown to love with Sam in the middle of the night when he took his turn on lookout. There wouldn’t be any need for that there.

“There are hot natural pools where we secure bathwater,” the elf maiden returned from the washroom. “Please take your time. You are free to anything in this room. I won’t disturb you until morning.”

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what else to say other than, “Thank you,” before she was left alone in the large, decorous room. At the sound of a bath she suddenly felt every inch of grime on her like never before.

It was a wonder that Sam still felt affection for her with the awful state she was probably in.

Slowly, as if every step was a heavy weight that required immense effort, she walked into the washroom. It was refined with pale green and silver grey. A large, wooden bathtub resided near a window with the most magnificent view of the pearly forest.

As if the tree grew in that manner, branches circled the tub, like a bird nest securing hot water. It provided a bench of sorts for support and shelving for tasteful bottles. Not the ceramic and clay bottles of the Shire, but colored glass adorned with gold.

Picking one up, (Y/N) uncapped it to smell a beautiful concoction of strawberry and vanilla. Her mind was drawn back to the famous strawberries and cream from her home.

She promptly dumped the whole bottle into the bath.

Steam billowed as the water was mixed with the milky pink soap. It bubbled where she poured.

She relieved herself of the dirty, stained clothes she’d worn the entire journey and folded them neatly on a bench cushion. And with a great sigh of relief, she slipped into the perfumed bathwater, feeling the heat instantly work at her tired feet and knotted shoulders.

It was quiet and warm and cleansing. Not just of the dirt coating her body, but of her mind. It was like taking care of herself in that moment reminded her of a time before the darkness of Gandalf’s demise – the fear of almost losing not just her life, but of those around her.

It might have been one hour, it might have been many, but as she scrubbed her skin clean with strawberry suds there was a definite lift in her mood.

She found a long sleeved pearlescent nightgown to wear as she grabbed a comb to untangle her unruly hobbit curls. Nails polished with soap and skin dewy with berry creams and lotions, (Y/N) found herself drifting to bed on a dream cloud.

The mattress was feathered and cool with silken sheets. The pillow was even more wonderful as she sunk her face into its down stuffing.

And she drifted off instantly – exhaustion and grief pulling her eyelids close.

It was the soundest she had ever slept. Although still missing the hour when she could awaken to steal precious moments alone with Samwise.

True to her word, the elf maiden didn’t return until late the next morning. (Y/N) peacefully woke from the deepest of slumbers to a platter of meats, cheeses, and fresh fruits. Silken in the white lace dressing gown, she rolled off the bed to reach the platter by the window.

Plucking a grape she heard the door open to reveal the elf maiden. She brought with her a silver trimmed dress, fashionable to the elves of Lothlorien. It glittered like starlight on a smoky-grey sky.

“I don’t normally wear dresses,” she said quietly.

The tall elf smiled warmly, “I did notice the trousers.” She laid the fabric over her arm, so it shimmered, “But I assure you that trousers are not needed for your stay. Enjoy your time out of the wilderness with a few luxuries.”

(Y/N) smiled, eyeing the dress with a sudden heat in her stomach. The last time she admired a dress was one her mother had handsewn for Uncle Bilbo’s party. The lake water dress.

Strawberries in her hair and vanilla on her skin, she felt the desire to wear the dress. Taking a step outside of her life gave her that reprieve she sought.

“Very well,” she said, “I’m all yours.”

An hour later (Y/N) found herself descending the tree woven staircase, ashen branches guiding her steps. She had been away from the fellowship – and Sam – for longer than she ever had since the journey started.

And now she missed them.

“Bloody hell!”

She turned towards the dining hall to find Merry and Pippin.

“What happened to you!” Merry chortled, “You look like a flake of snow.”

(Y/N) looked down at her shimmering silver dress, “Compliments of our host.”

“I’m amazed,” Pippin said, wide-eyed, “It usually takes the fury of your mother to have you put on some skirts.”

“Never understood it,” Merry said, frowning at the volumes of fabric, “How are you supposed to climb any trees in that getup?”

“My thoughts precisely,” (Y/N) said, hands on her hips, “But might as well enjoy a few comforts while we’re resting.”

Merry’s nose started twitching, “Is that you?”

(Y/N) pouted her lip, lifting her arm to smell her wrist, “Orange blossoms?”

“Incredible.” Merry shook his head in wonder, “They’ve turned you into a girl.”

She punched him in the shoulder, “I was always a girl, you dingbat.”

Pippin was still trying to wrap his head around it, “Whatever happened – you’re beautiful, (Y/N).”

“The proper response,” she replied, glaring at Merry, “Thank you, Pip.” She continued on her way, following the path the elf maiden said led to the other guest quarters.

“Oh, I don’t suppose you wanted a spot of second breakfast?” Pippin called out.

Merry laughed heartily, “She didn’t come down to visit us.” He raised his brows, folding his arms, “She’s going to see Sam.”

“Sam?” Pippin muttered, “Well, he can come to breakfast too.”

“No, Pip,” Merry said exasperatedly, “She fancies him. Wants to show him her pretty new dress.”

Pippin gasped, “Well, I’ll be…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” (Y/N) said, “I don’t want to show off the dress.”

Merry shared Pippin’s gasp, more dramatically, “But you confess to fancying him.”

She put a hand to her temple, “I would say so, but I’d fear you choke on the next breath you’d take.”

“I knew there was something suspicious about how close you two have gotten.”

“Has he said anything?” Pippin inquired, leaning in as if the biggest secret was being discussed. “Has he stated his intentions?”

She flickered her eyes between the two cousins before nodding.

“Has he really?” Merry laughed, “Wasn’t sure he had it in him – I’ve only been teasing you both about it since we were children.”

“You’re insufferable,” (Y/N) sighed, “I’ll meet you all for teatime.”

After a couple winding hallways, she found herself at a stone gazebo, vines of rose buds climbed the columns. A bench sat in the center and supported the figure of Sam gazing over the railing at the ashen grey forest, glittered with white firefly light.

She went for the couple stone steps, thinking of sneaking up on him. But in a thunderous turn of events she stepped on the hem of her dress, falling to her knees with an “Ahmph!”

“(Y/N)!?”

She started giggling, a rosy, red color blooming on her cheeks and across her nose. “If I ever needed another reason to never wear a dress again…”

Sam ran around the stone bench to reach her side, “Are you all right?” He took her hands and guided her to a standing position.

“Other than my pride, yes I’m fine.” She laughed a dazzling laugh. “I came to find you.”

But it appeared that Sam was at a loss for words. His eyes were wide, and (Y/N) couldn’t tell if he was terrified or surprised – perhaps a bit of both. His lip started to quiver as if he was trying to get a word out, and his hands were becoming limp around her own.

“Sam?”

“You… you’re…”

She widened her gaze expectantly, “Yes?”

He took a deep breath and broke out in smiles and giggles, “You smell of strawberries.”

She started giggling too, “Goodness, I thought you’d forgotten how to work your voice.”

“Strawberries and cream,” Sam said merrily. He lifted her hands to his lips and closed his eyes, humming, “Orange and florals?” he smiled brilliantly, “You smell of home.”

She squeezed his hands, “The service here is immaculate.”

He pulled her towards the stone bench, a hand on her lower back and eyes on her feet to ensure she didn’t trip again.

“(Y/N), you look like a star,” he whispered, “How did you manage that?”

She pulled on the collar of her shimmering gown, showing the blush blossoming down her neck. “I assure you I had nothing to do with it. These elves know a thing or two about living high society.”

He sat beside her, mesmerized by the sight of her. “You’re positively breathtaking,” he laughed, “As made evident just moments ago.”

She smiled, brushing a shiny curl behind her ear. “I missed you last night.”

It was quiet for a few moments before Sam replied, “I missed you too.” He just couldn’t take his eyes off her, “I dreamt of you instead.”

“Did you?” she wrapped her arms around his, resting her head against his shoulder.

“Just the usual.”

“The usual?” she giggled.

He continued his gaze of the surrounding forest, “We’re sitting in a garden I planted for you. I say something that made you laugh. You press a kiss to my cheek. And I wake with a pounding in my chest.”

She hummed, “Sounds like those dreams are going to give you an affliction of the heart.”

“That’s right,” he mused, turning his head to speak into her hair, “I’ve become lovesick.”

“How terrible,” she played along, “Is it curable?”

“It’s chronic,” he sighed, “It will be an ailment I have for the rest of my life.”

She tilted her head up, “Perhaps there are ways to alleviate the symptoms.” And she pressed a small kiss to his cheek.

He smiled wide, cheeks as red as his hair. “I do believe that helped.”

~~~

The fellowship stood before the queen of Lothlorien, clean and refreshed for the next part of their journey. The young hobbits were all clad in dull green cloaks, fastened by an enchanting, forged leaf. And each were being given special gifts.

Crystal phials, little daggers, and charmed elven rope.

When it came to (Y/N)’s turn, the queen placed a delicate hand on her shoulder, guiding her to a private corner of the entrance hall.

Back in soil colored trousers and a tunic the shade of old parchment, (Y/N) truly looked like a creature of the earth beside a twinkling elven star.

“The journey you take is treacherous,” the queen said quietly, as to not be heard by the surrounding company. “But it is one that must be accomplished.”

(Y/N) nodded, “I’ve been told of the horrors possessed within the Ring. I do not take it lightly, my lady queen.”

She bowed her regal head, “Your cousin Frodo will not be able to take the Ring without help. He is alone with its torment, but he should not be alone in guidance.” She moved her crystalline eyes towards the fellowship, “The companion, Samwise… he will be sorely needed by the end.”

“Sam means a great deal to all of us.” The conversation was putting an uneasy feeling within (Y/N)’s stomach.

Galadriel returned her gaze, “Yes, I knew as much.” She cupped her hands together as if to summon something, “There will be a time when you take your separate paths.”

(Y/N)’s brow became furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You are meant to go your own way,” Galadriel smiled, but no warmth came from her. “In the distant future. But the companion Samwise will need strength as he cares for the ringbearer.”

“Why would I leave to…”

Galadriel opened her hands and two pieces of crystal rested there, “He will need your love and support to get him through the lands of Mordor.”

The crystal, no bigger than a skipping stone, was translucent and full of little fissures and fractures. The lines cracked within the crystal took shape as a petaled flower. (Y/N) felt immediately drawn to it.

“In the days before Numenor,” Galadriel continued, “A star fell from the heavens, beautiful and great. It split in two along its journey, making it incomplete and vulnerable. Each fell to their own crater, devastating surrounding forests – but encasing themselves around the flowers beneath them.”

She lifted the crystals and revealed that each was melded to a silver chain. She extended them to (Y/N), who felt hesitant to accept the gift.

“Though separated by a perilous journey, the pair never lost contact with each other. There is an ever constant link between the two. Should one be held and whispered to, the other will grow warm and empowering.”

(Y/N) finally took the crystals and felt an instant weight in her hand – a comforting weight like a hug. For the oddest reason she felt her chest fill with an inconsolable warmth, as if everything was going to be all right in the end.

“I feel something.”

Galadriel nodded, “It is their connection. Both pieces of the same star, they’re destined to be together. That is a great comfort to them; to not be alone in the world.”

“You speak as if stars have a conscious.”

“Perhaps they do,” the queen twinkled, “Give one to Samwise. There will come a time when he’ll need your empowerment. Hold the crystal close to your heart and he’ll feel it in moments of great peril.”

(Y/N) nodded, placing one crystal around her neck and tucking it down her tunic. It lay protective over her chest.

“Thank you, my lady. Thank you for your care and hospitality.”

“Farewell, dear forester. Keep your other half close.”

And (Y/N) had the sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t meaning the crystal halves.

Later as the fellowship approached the River Anduin, (Y/N) lagged at the back of the company, prompting Sam to do the same.

She untucked the crystal flower from around her neck.

Sam widened his eyes, “Where did you get that?”

“It was my gift,” she said, smiling, “I have one for you as well.” She drew the other from her pocket and stood on her toes to put it around Sam’s neck.

“What is it?” Sam questioned, picking the crystal up from his chest, “It… it feels warm.” He started to smile, and not purposefully.

(Y/N) smiled too, holding her crystal to her heart, “It’s a token of my love.”

Sam went still, but his eyes whipped to hers, “Hm?”

She spoke softly, trying to contain her widening smile, “I have it’s equal. They’re a bonded pair. Whatever is held in the one will be felt in the other.”

“And you are…?” he seemed edging on desperation to get to the base of the subject.

“Holding it with love,” she said, “Can you feel it?”

Sam swallowed, “I feel as if my heart might burst.”

“Again with the heart affliction,” (Y/N) laughed quietly, “If I had known loving you would cause you such danger…”

Sam was getting more and more frantic the longer she talked, “I… you – gracious…” he held the crystal tight on his chest, his face the epitome of beaming.

(Y/N) started to giggle, the crystal beneath her hand growing heavy and warm, coursing through her whole body until she ached with the sight of him. “Sam, are you trying to tell me something?”

Her head began to swim with airy thoughts of East Farthing roads and Party Tree dances, all while in the arms of Sam. Her chest was full of flower buds just beginning to bloom.

Sam was almost quaking with the ache of his heart. He was desperate to touch her. Desperate to hold her. His chest was blossoming into something great and irresistible, and it gnawed at him.

She loved him.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, “For how long I could not say. But it is undeniable at this point.” He took a step towards her.

She took a shallow breath. “I’m not sure I can wait until the Shire for us to be together.”

“I thought it a silly notion to begin with,” Sam said almost breathless, raising his hands to cup her cheeks. “I don’t want to waste another second not declaring my love for you.”

She raised her own hand to cover one of his on her cheek. She remembered Lady Galadriel’s prediction that (Y/N) would eventually leave the fellowship for her own path. She did not think it possible to make such a decision with Sam at her side. He was leaning in closer, the heat of his face making hers warm.

It made the connection of their lips all the more searing.

~~~

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