#boromir son of denethor x reader

[aphroditesmoon]

hi can i request one where Boromir meets the reader during Elrond’s council and is doubtful of them when they join the fellowship because he doesn’t think they can handle themselves in a fight but they turn out to be the most skilled fighter out of the whole fellowship and basically falls in love with the reader? <3

when I knew love's perfect ache

boromir son of denethor ii x witch!reader

warnings: weapons

a/n: sorry I took awhile, hope u like this!! I added a bit of my own ideas<33

°°°°

You knew what you were there for. From the moment you saw crows filling the sky in one fast swoop, loud in warning. And the animals had fled from open spaces to seek shelter in the welcoming forests.

When you arrived in Lord Elrond's home, it wasn't unexpected in his eyes, nor was it in the wizard Gandalf's.

"You're late." The elf teases in his own manner with a raised brow. "Im never late, I'm where I'm supposed to be, when I'm supposed to be." You replied.

"If that's what you need to tell yourself to sleep better at night." You roll your eyes at that before following his lead.

Despite his scolding of you, it seemed you were actually early. You saw glimpses of two mortal men, one of them you recognized, Estel. Walking through his home, eyeing everything in the large halls of his beautiful place, you admire the elven architecture.

Your dark coloured dress and the haunted vision it gives to your appearance seems to have no effect to the servants leading you to your room and smiling towards you from corners of the halls.

They have heard of you, though you've always made sure your identity remains discreet, the elven ears and eyes sees and hears many.

Leaving behind the servants lead, you walk towards the ranger and his companion, a knowing smile on your lips. "Age seems to have nothing on you, Aragorn." He doesn't flinch at your voice, as he doesn't flinch at anything. Instead, he speaks your name first before turning his head towards you.

"Of course, I should've expected your presence, apart of the council for the horrors middle earth might be heading towards."

You let a hand move to his shoulder, squeezing it in comfort.

"And who do we have here? Captain of Gondor." You answer your own question as his face flashes in front of your face, and in your own mind.

"I don't believe we've met before." He concluded, frowning in question. "No, I believe we haven't."

You end it there before turning to leave the men to themselves, being the first to arrive to the meeting alongside the prince Legolas Greenleaf.

The elf greets you with a smile and a nod of his head before turning back to scowl at the entrance of a dwarf. You bite back a smile.

Once the required guests have all arrived, Lord Elrond wastes no time getting into the topic. Arguments were made and suggestions given. All you have seen forecasted earlier that day. You give Gandalf a look of consolation as he looks at you knowingly, the dwarf and elf arguing still.

What truly shook both of you out of eachother's silent conversation was when the son of Gondor began to speak. "My people-" You knew what he'd suggest. "-Have been suffering for years while-"

"And they will continue so suffering or even worse if the ring is not destroyed." Your voice thunders through the sudden silence, confident and sure.

Boromir's eyes snaps to you, and you could almost see resentment in them. "And how would you know what would happen?"

"I see...some, parts of the future.", His eyes shone in a glint of curiosity. "No matter what route the dark lord takes, either the ring destroys men by their own hands, or his own will."

He looks away from you immediately, you hear his low whispered name for you, that sounded almost like a curse. "...Witch."

Lord Elrond sighs deeply before speaking again, directed to you. "It would be wise for you to just tell us what you see now. I can tell you're enjoying the time wasting arguments, but time, does not seem to be on our good side these days. "

You nodded your head and searched through your mind for memories you've had for this day. "I do not see much recently. The eye, has shown me multiple ways it can take what it wants. But I am sure, that the burden of the ring will lie nowhere else but to the halfling, Frodo Baggins."

Nods and glances of understanding are shared upon the circle, it seems they've predicated as much, and this was all the confirmation they needed.

"And he will not continue this journey alone, I assume?" Gandalf pushes.

You smile warmly at him. "No, sons of Gondor and the prince of Mirkwood alongside Gimli son of Gloin, will join him, for his own safety for the journey." Sam Gamgee bursts out if the bushes as if summoned, apparently upset he was not mentioned.

Elrond sighs loudly. "What part of secret meeting did no one understood."

He gives you a look of question and you look towards Sam with understanding. "Wherever he goes, you must go with him." Sam agrees with a fervent nod, serious was his express

What you didn't expect was their two friends appearing from invisible spot, desperately wanting to follow. Elrond, with his patience thinning, concluded the meeting. "It will be called the fellowship of the ring, companions of 9." His own eyes search yours for approval, as if you should be disagreeing.

"10." You corrected, watching as he relaxes.

"A witch, as helpful as she could be, would only be so burdensome in such a dangerous journey." Boromir, son of denethor the second, spoke out immediately.

You flinch at such a public insult, brows frowning together. "She is as useful as any of you men, I can assure you son of Gondor, my words, surely would be enough?" Gandalf interjects before you could argue.

He eyes you suspiciously, but less threatening than before, and relented to the grey wizard.

You were the first to be ready for the journey, Packing some well needed knives and a spare sword alongside some fruits. Your head turn to look behind you when you hear footsteps.

Boromir carries a readied bag himself, walking closer to you, he eyes yours. "Hopefully you won't be needing to use that." he jokes, nudging to your sword. You smile at him before tying it and lifting it up over your shoulders. "We all do what we have to when necessary.

His eyes slowly rises up to meet yours with an unreadable gaze. "Yes, we do."

Visions be damned, for you see nothing of this man's future. and if you'd have to to take a bet, he was talking to himself more than he was to you. The image of the ring clouding his better judgement, you're sure.

The journey began that afternoon, the first day going smoothly as you expected. You notice how the walking was starting to take effect on the hobbits, tiring faster than the taller folks.

"We should take rest. The heat is taking a toll on everyone." You spoke to Aragorn as you walk past him.

You knew he'd prefer all to continue, but gives in instead, and announces a short break to restore some well needed energy.

Sitting on the edge of cliff, you find shelter under a large lonesome tree, watching as the hobbits attempt in fighting lessons with the captain. Absolutely failing too.

"It'd be easier for a beginner to practice with a blade, or anything smaller, nothing to do with your size I assure you." You called out as you start to stand up to walk towards them.

Pippin raise a brow at you, folding his arms together. "I don't know miss, it sort of sounded like we're being pigeonholed here." Merry agrees giving you a matter-of-factly look. "He's right, were stronger than we look like."

You laughed and didn't disagree. "She's right. Though, don't think I'd have a blade to spare." Boromir says.

You immediately pull out your own and passed it to him. He gives you a suspicious look. "And just how many weapons do you carry"

"Enough, hopefully. In case of unwanted trouble." You answered. "That is if you can you use any of them." He lets the words come out easily, unaware of how insulting it sounded.

Your hand, as if on impulse, unarms both his sword and blade barehanded, while the other takes advantage of his suprised state to pull him by his arm to you before twirling him around and twisting it to his back. You slammed him then, by your knee, letting him go as he jolts forward, the sound of Merry and Pippin's laughter fills the space.

"And what would you know of things I can and cannot know to use?" You question sternly, clearly offended. Boromir, collecting his stability and shame, turns apologetic.

"That is not what I meant-"

"No, what you meant is that you can't imagine how a woman of my physique and rank would even know how to wield a sword. And I don't appreciate judgements of my character being made, Captain." Chided like a child, Boromir turns his head down in a low bow.

"You are right, I apologize, I was ignorant of my words."

When he finally looks up to you, you spare him a second glance only before walking away, Merry and Pippin almost enjoying the dramatic argument. Seeing such a brave and large fighter like Boromir being scolded into an apology was a quite amusing sight for even Aragorn.

The ranger who's heard and seen all, decided that it was time to get moving again, the odds of the journey would most likely be on their side if they kept going and got less on eachother's throats.

"Well, I'd say that's enough re energizing. We shan't wait for Gandalf to appear, hell know where to find us." Aragorn speaks, giving you a look of warning to play nice, before urging everyone to get up and ready.

The journey continued in silence, night dawning upon you and your company, sun replaced by night stars and a cloud hidden moon. The sound of Legolas and Gimli bickering behind you starts to fill the quiet.

Another argument on Dwarf history being better than elves.

Ginlis yelling was cut off by Legolas with his questions. "And you say this as someone who's visited these caves, I assume?"

The dwarf turns silent. "I didn't say-". "Aha! So you speak of nothing more than stories." Legolas challenged before the two starts to talk over eachother again.

"Perhaps you should visit the caves together, once this journey is over, how else then can you prove yourself right?" You interrupt, tilting your head back towards them with a grin.

Gimli rolls his eyes and scoffs while Legolas actually seems to consider it. "I wouldn't go anywhere with an elf." Gimli answers.

"Well you're here with me now, aren't you?" Legolas taunts. And again, the argument starts.

The weary spirits of your companies slowly lifts after that, the tiredness didn't seem much as burdensome.

And whilst you smile at your friends debates and terrible hobbit jokes, you failed to notice the on man who's smiling as well while his eyes remains on you the whole night.

#boromir son of denethor x reader #boromir #boromir x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #lotr x reader #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings fanfiction #the lord of the rings #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings

[cauliflowertree]

boromir—you’re the one who’s calling me to heaven

summary: bonding over tea and night shifts.

word count: 1.2k

fanfiction no. 013

upon joining the fellowship of the ring, you had not anticipated the hatred that would penetrate you every time your night watch came along. 

you loathed being a slave to the darkness with naught but distant snores for company or entertainment. it was tedious, to fiddle with the frays of your clothes and fight off sleep until your shift was finally at an end. you had unloaded this complaint unto boromir a number of times, the companion of whom you had grown particularly close to over the journey. 

“why do you hate it so? it is a time to reflect and enjoy one’s own company,” boromir defended the task. 

“it is insufferable. i wish i did not have to endure it alone, but alas if i were to keep someone up then they would be burdened with two night shifts. i cannot think of a punishment worse than that,” you shook your head, turning to boromir dejectedly. 

“you talk of such a trivial matter with such seriousness,” he laughed. “you have much to be thankful for.” 

“such as? having not been cooked for dinner by a pack of orcs?” you suggested with playful sarcasm. 

“ha, they would not cook you.” 

“i-” 

“boromir! come!” called aragorn from the front of the company, saving him from a scolding. 

he laughed as he left you, winking before he was too far for you to notice the gesture. 

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

night rolled in over the horizon, blanketing the hills and mountains with ominous darkness, leaving the company to situate themselves into a comfortable position and invite sleep, all except you, for you were on first watch this evening, as boromir had overheard earlier. he remembered your disdain for the assignment and decided then he should endeavour to stay up with you and take the watch immediately afterwards. 

“i am here to keep you company,” he said softly as he approached you, a little distance away from the sleeping fellowship. 

he offered you a cup of green leaf tea, which you accepted eagerly and gratefully. it was warm, but not hot—perfect. 

“i could not ask you to do that. but since i did not, i shall accept your company,” you grinned, looking to the stars. “it is a beautiful clear night,” you hummed. 

“do you know much of the stars?” asked boromir with gentle curiosity. 

“no,” you confessed, “but i recognise the shapes i have seen before. i only wish i knew their names.” 

“i wish i could inform you, but i cannot. we must remain ignorant together,” he smiled with a hint of an apology. 

after a while talking and enjoying each other’s company, conversation turned down a deeper route, with twists and turns that exposed both you and boromir to tender vulnerability. yet you were not afraid to open yourself up to be seen by someone who seemed to leave judgement to the elves. 

“do you wish to be feared or loved when you are steward of gondor?” you asked, picking at the grass beneath you, but keeping your eyes fixed to the man before you. 

“i want to be worshipped, of course” he laughed away the seriousness of the question with his witty response. 

“i mean truly?” you asked again, genuinely intrigued as to his response. 

“i am not sure," he thought deeply for a moment. "though i love my father, i am one of the few. he perhaps, is more likely to be feared. my brother, faramir, would choose to be loved, and i do not blame him. he has faced the cold and distant temperament of my father all his life,” he explained earnestly. “i suppose my answer would be both,” he said after a moment of thinking. 

“i shall allow it, just this once,” you narrowed your eyes. 

“perhaps i should have chosen to be feared, then you might take me more seriously,” he chuckled. 

“oh, should i be be wary of you?” 

“no,” he shook his head, “i am a man who makes green leaf tea for his companions,” he gestured up his empty cup. 

“a respectable man, then,” you said with pride. 

“i should hope you thought so,” he replied, to which you felt compelled to keep your eyes fixed to the man in front of you, so close to you. 

boromir’s gentle smile fell away as you watched him intently. perhaps you were thinking, perhaps he had embarrassed you—it was never his intention to do so. he had not thought before he spoke, but now that he had, he could not deny he was eager for an answer. though he did not believe it a question you were capable of answering, so instead he made the act of offering a response easier for you, and began to lean in. 

he let his eyes flicker towards your lips, and even in the darkness you noticed this. was this what falling in love felt like? you had no idea. and as he leaned in closer, you felt an indescribable curiosity and desire to press your lips to his. without thinking, you began leaning forward to meet him halfway, eagerly anticipating the sensation of his lips against yours. 

before this much desired contact, boromir placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently before moving it down to your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair. he pulled you in slowly, tilting his head to the side before finally closing his eyes and joining you and him together. his mouth moved daringly over yours, letting his tongue slip between your lips tentatively. 

this was not your first embrace, but it was the first time you had felt so desperate for someone. you had never let your feelings grow for someone in this way, and the moment his tongue slipped between your lips, you found yourself clawing at the leather over his chest, and burying your hands in his hair. 

you did not wish for him to pull away so soon, but he was conscious of the time you’d spent awake together, and the energy you needed to preserve for the day ahead. 

“i believe we have both stayed awake for the second watch,” he said in-between breaths, his forehead pressed against yours. 

“i suppose i know what this means,” you said sorrowfully. 

“we need rest,” he stated plainly, “i shall wake the elf. but i want you close to me,” he confessed, staring at the ground below him. 

“i will wait for you beside your covers,” you smiled, releasing his hand so the two of you could stand up. 

boromir woke legolas, informing him of the time, to which legolas nodded sleepily but dutifully. swiftly moving on, he walked back to the rest of the group, where he found you making yourself comfortable beside his belongings. he smiled to himself as he made his way over and laid down beside you. the covers he owned were not big enough for the two of you, but you had brought your own along and sufficed that being close to him was enough. 

he smoothed down your hair after you tucked yourself beneath his chin and whispered a soft ‘goodnight’ to you, before falling into a dreamless sleep.

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir x you #boromir x y/n #boromir son of denethor #boromir imagine #boromir fanfiction #boromir of gondor #lotr fic #lotr fanfic #lotr fandom #lotr imagine #lotr boromir #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fandom #lord of the rings

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Pilot!Boromir headcanons

Boromir x reader. NSFW!!

Friends with benefits to lovers; obviously modern AU.

This was inspired by this post, and me remembering about Sean Bean's role in Flightplan. Eru, this man looks so good in a pilot uniform...

*****

✈️ His father is an important politician and/or entrepreneur, and Boromir was supposed to follow in his footsteps, but he has always wanted to be a pilot, fly and spend his life in the sky; as a consequence, as soon as he was of age he enlisted in Gondor's Air Force to pursue a military carreer as a pilot. This caused an unexpected, unprecedented rift between father and son, but since Boromir swore that if his father tried to stop him, he would leave and never return home, Denethor had to grudgingly accept his son's decision, hoping in his heart Boromir would one day change his mind and take the place his father had prepared for him.

✈️ He serves in the army for many years, becoming one of the most capable pilots in the Air Force, both in peace and in war. After a few years he is injuried during the Amon Hen Battle, where he risks his life protecting a pair of civilians in reaching his plane and then flies them to safety while a bombing is taking place around them.

✈️ After that, he decides he has had enough of the army, and his father's hopes are definitely dashed when he decides to accept his friend Aragorn's offer to work for his company, Elessar Airlines.

✈️ And this is when he meets you, a capable stewardess working for the same airline and mainly flying on long-haul routes - just like him. The first time you meet in the company's offices, for you it is not love, but lust at first sight, and how could it not? Tall and athletic, a face that is a textbook example of masculine grace (strong jaw, expressive brown eyes, the sort of nose you would normally look for on a marble statue) Boromir must be one of the most handsome men you have ever met, and when you shake hands, and you hear his deep, musical voice repeating in a murmur the name you have just given him (as if he wants to make sure he understood it correctly, or likes it so much he wants to taste it on his tongue) you immediately know your interest is fully reciprocated. "Welcome to Elessar Airlines, mr. Hurin; I'm sure you'll enjoy working with us." "Thank you. I look forward to working with you, miss (last name)."

✈️ You work together on three flights in the following six weeks, which gives you the opportunity to break the ice and get to know each other. You are impressed with his past as a military pilot, which he shares with the sort of quiet, down-to-earth pride of a man happy to have done his duty and who because of this doesn't look for praises or compliments, and with the clear affection in his voice when he speaks of his younger brother, Faramir (who is pursuing a carreer as a diplomat) since your relationship with your own siblings is much less close and affectionate. On his part, Boromir listens with interest when you tell him about your job or your interests, discovering he can't take his eyes off you while you talk.

✈️ You are sharing a drink at the airport bar one evening, waiting for boarding time, when his leg brushes against yours under the counter; you smile, immediately sure he did it on purpose, and Boromir smiles back, aware you are both thinking about the same thing. "We have about thirty minutes before we need to get on board." he murmurs, his face suddenly so close to yours you can feel his breath on your face, and you feel yourself shivering "How about we... find somewhere a little more private?"

✈️ You immediately, and happily, accept, and a minute later Boromir is closing the door of the (fortunately empty) pilot lounge behind you, your bodies already flushed against each other, your mouth pressed against his in a breath-taking, hungry kiss. "Eru." Boromir murmurs; his hands are moving frantically on your body, caressing, stimulating, and making you wish your neatly pressed uniform were not in the way "You are driving me crazy, I have wanted you since the very moment I saw you..." "You can have me." you answer in a moan, already drunk with desire; your back pressed against the wall, you lift your leg around Boromir's hips, pressing your pelvis against him and feeling him already hard from you "Please... please, I need you inside me..."

✈️ Unfortunately, Boromir's phone and yours ring almost at the same time, calling you both on board sooner than expected for a consultation with the rest of the crew you'll be flying with; by then, you are sitting in Boromir's lap, your panties on the floor and your mouth on his naked chest, and stopping and composing yourselves requires a tremendous effort. "Listen, I'm sorry as well." you murmur as you kiss him once more while Boromir puts his jacket on, feeling as unsatisfied as he looks "But we'll have time. I'll have a room by myself at the hotel when we land; you could come visit me."

✈️ That brings a smile on Boromir's lips. You leave the room and meet with the rest of the crew, the co-pilot and the two male stewards who have no idea you are still wet and he has a semi as you take care of pre-boarding, and you share a secret smile before Boromir leaves to reach the cock-pit and you wait for the passengers. You are both too professional, and aware of the risks, to slip away during the flight, even though all the planes have a tiny room reserved for the crew where pilots and stewards can retire to rest; you force yourself to focus on your duties, making sure all the passengers are comfortable, checking their tickets, serving lunch and making sure they fasten their seatbelts when requested, but you can't stop thinking about him, the tall and handsome man responsible for the safety of everyone on board, and who soon, you know, will fuck you until you can't even remember your name.

✈️ After a tranquil flight, you reach the hotel where the crew will spend the night before your next shift. You have barely time to leave your luggage on the floor, take off your shoes and visit the toilet, before you hear knocking on the door. You are already trembling with desire as you open it; Boromir is there, still in his uniform except for his jacket and tie, and the desire burning in his eyes is enough to make your heart skip a beat or three. He enters and "Come to me, woman." he says opening his arms to you, and normally you are not used to passively obeying men's orders, at least when you are not working, but you feel you can make an exception for him: you jump in Boromir's arms, and you are already kissing him passionately while he carries you to the bed.

✈️ From there, things develop naturally. After that first, magical night, you ask him to meet at your place; Boromir eagerly accepts, and you spend the whole night having sex; there is an adoring light in his eyes as he holds you by the waist, his free hand playing with your nipples, his long legs entwined to yours. "My place next time?" he proposes, and you start kissing his torso, confident it will be clear enough for an answer. It seems almost too good to be true: you have found a passionate, inventive, generous lover, as hungry for you as you are for him, and no matter how many times you sleep together, you are never tired, never bored, and every time you part with a kiss, neither can wait for your next date.

✈️ You are not exactly hiding your relationship, since nothing forbids the two of you from being together, but at the same time you tacitly decide to keep it to yourselves, and you both find excitement, and fulfilment, in having sex where you could be caught, disregarding the fact that you both live alone and could therefore meet at your place or his. One day, shortly before take-off on a return flight you are working on with another pilot, Boromir sends you a text with a long, detailed description of the things he wants to do to you. You read it three times, and then you have to excuse yourself to the toilet, where you touch yourself towards a quick, powerful orgasm that nonetheless leaves you unsatisfied before going back to work on shaky legs. Five agonizing hours later Boromir is waiting for you at the gate, and you let his hand guide you to the airport's parking lot, where his car is waiting for you, and your lover makes good on all his promises, holding you by the hips while you bounce above him on the driver's seat.

✈️ Then there are the lounges. The airport toilettes. The hotels in foreign cities you never get to visit, and where one of your separate bedrooms is invariably left unused. One day, after a long separation (six excruciating days in which your shifts never matched, and you had to make do exchanging pictures, texts, and making each other climax with phone sex) you have him come at your place directly from the airport where he landed; Boromir is exhausted, but immediately forgets it when he finds you lying on the bed, wearing only a pair of high heels and a thong, a flute in your hand. Would you like some champagne, sir?, you ask in your professional voice, and that is the night you discover it is physically possible for a man to come four times in nine hours.

✈️ In the end, you join the Mile High club together. When you confess him that having sex on a plane has always been a secret desire of yours, Boromir surprises you making your dream come true... just, not when you're flying, since it would be unprofessional for a pilot to leave the cockpit after take-off, no matter how urgent the impulse he has to take care of is, and both of you'd get undoubtedly fired if discovered. A couple of guys working for the company's security service owe him a favour, and one night you and your lover slip on board of a plane grounded for security reasons. You kiss desperately as you walk along the carpet-covered corridor towards the first class area, and make love on the pilot's chair, him sitting and you riding him like you both like, and then against the instrument panel, your thighs around his waist and your mouth finding his in a sloppy but passionate kiss. You whisper his name, you moan it, you cry it; no one hears, fortunately, since you're the only two people on the whole runway, but he does, and that is what really matters.

✈️ He is not into toys, and being tied up is too frustrating for a man used to always retain control on things around him. On the other hand, he is happy to indulge your preferences, be it exchanging hot photos when you're in public, or sucking on your breasts until they hurt.

✈️ If you want to make him hard, you call him mr. Hurin, in a sultry tone you quickly learn to use when you are together. If you want to make him come within two minutes, you call him sir. If you want to make him forget his own name, you call him captain, and prepare yourself to walk funny on the next day.

✈️ You like both giving and receiving oral sex, Boromir enjoys being sucked, but obliged when you ask him to return the favour, and discovers he is naturally talented. He likes anal sex, but at the same time wants to look at you in the eyes while he takes you, and thus you prefer to do it standing, leaning against a chest of drawers in your bedroom, in front of a large oval mirror; his lips leave a trail of fire on your skin, and no matter how exhausted he is, he always takes you in his arms to carry you to the bed. "Are you all right?" he gently asks, chastely kissing your forehead before lying next to you; he always asks, no matter how enthusiastically you took part in your lovemaking, and you always nod, and then happily snuggle against his side.

✈️ He asks you once, out of curiosity, if you'd like to open your relationship to a third partner, provided you find someone you both like and can trust. "Absolutely not." you decisively ask as you caress his chest; you don't even have to ask whether the third partner would be a male or a female, because it would change nothing "I only want you, and I want you to have eyes only for me when we are together. Please, let's not talk about it anymore." Boromir obeys; he doesn't express his own opinion on the matter, but he seems satisfied of your answer.

✈️ He likes seeing you in your stewardess uniform, so much that sometimes you surprise him wearing it when he visits you, after you have taken off your bra and panties underneath. Lingerie excites him, and since you refuse to accept money from him, even if as a simple gift, he buys you things he'd like to see on you; when you meet at work, he imagines you wearing his gifts under your uniform, and can't wait to take it off you. Once, you leave a pair of lacy panties under his pillow, as a surprise for when he'll wake up; he carries it with him in his pocket for the whole day, before cornering you in the company's parking lot. I think you left this at my place last night, he says after a long, trembling kiss, your body pressed between his and the door of your car, do you want it back? Or shall I teach you to take good care of the things you are gifted?

✈️ One day after a particularly memorable night, you realize you have scratched his back with your nails; Boromir doesn't mind, so lost in the world of pleasure you had created together he hadn't even felt the pain, and after a moment of guilt you feel quite proud of it, and happy at the thought he is carrying a sign of your passion on his skin, evident enough anyone who sees him would realize. Emboldened, you start biting his neck as you kiss, not so hard that it hurts but enough to leave a bruise, and two days later, when you join your colleagues at the airport for a new flight, you hear an older steward ask Boromir if he is sick, since he's wearing an heavy scarf over his shirt. Just a cold, your lover answers, impassible, and when your gazes meet he tries to scowl at you, but he ends up smiling as he sees you laughing behind your hand.

✈️ Everything is going great between the two of you. You sleep together at least three times a week, either at his or at your house, and while most of your dates begin in the bedroom, you soon discover you sincerely enjoy each other's company; you like falling asleep in your lovers' arms, his body keeping you warm better than the heaviest blanket, while Boromir enjoys resting his cheek on your chest and feeling you play with his hair. You enjoy long talkes, freely discussing personal matters as well as work issues; Boromir appreciates you are not wont to gossip, while you like he actually cares about your point of view as a stewardess, unlike other pilots who consider the other company employees beneath them. Yes, everything is going great, and six months after that first, magical night in the hotel room, you are still completely crazy about each other, fully satisfied of that (initially) purely sexual, no strings attached, relationship... and at the same time, finding yourselves wanting more.

✈️ Boromir is jealous. Naturally protective, and often possessive, of the people he cares for, Boromir finds himself hating every man who approaches you or that he suspects is interested in you, even if he has no reason to fear for your safety. He knows he has no right to feel that way, since you are not dating or anything and never even talked about making your sexual relationship exclusive, but he can't help it, and the simple thought of someone else touching you like he does, or worse, making you feel pleasure like he is so proud he has done for months, makes him see red. He has to bit his tongue to stop himself from asking about it any time he hears a masculine voice coming from your phone, he tries to discover who among the male colleagues you are friends with is single and could as a consequence pose a threat, and that time a wealthy passenger buys a costly perfume from the onboard shopping catalog and then gifts it to you together with his number on a piece of paper, he feels the irresistible urge to throw that cretin off the plane, even as he sees you politely refusing both offers, since the company guidelines forbid you from accepting gifts from passengers. Is this the only reason you declined?, he can't stop wondering, and would you have accepted otherwise? Is there already someone else in your life, someone you see when you're not with him, someone you like more than him and who could one day take you away from him...?

✈️ Your fears are different, albeit equally deep and distressing, and mainly concern the possibility your lover grows tired of you. After all you have slept together for months already, and no matter how intense the connection between you is, how passionate your lovemaking and how often he whispers in your ear you are so beautiful, so good for me, so tight and hot, and how amazing you feel when he's inside you and that no one has ever made him come so hard, sooner or later inevitably enthusiasm dwindles and boredom sets in; Boromir is an attractive man, you have seen passengers (of all ages, and all genders) giggling and looking at him with admirations on every single flight you have worked on together, and many of your fellow stewardesses likewise make no secret of their attraction. What if eventually someone catches his attention? Someone more beautiful, and younger than you, or pursuing whom provides a more exciting past-time than your by now established relationship? You are not tired of him (you have come to suspect you never will be) and there is nothing you wouldn't do to keep him by your side, but you can't stop fearing one day you will lose him...

✈️ Soon, you both realize you have developed feelings for each other, a discovery that does not surprise you (good, and even exceptional, sex does not necessarily translate in love, but what has been born between the two of you was too intense, too special and intimate and deep not to affect your heart) but that puts you both in a predicament. Could each of you confess your feelings to the other person, potentially finding out they did not reciprocate? You had never spoken much about your relationship, to give it a name or establish rules for something that made you both happy and satisfied, and while you had not explicitly decided to keep what there is behind you strictly physical, neither of you had ever said or done anything that could led the other to suspect a desire, or even just a willingness, to transform your acquaintance in a romantic relationship - a committed, serious romantic relationship, because this is what both of you had come to desire. If it came out you wanted different things from your rapport, could you ignore it and go back to being simply friends with benefits? It would be good (it would be great) even though you couldn't help wishing for more, and in the secret of your hearts you both think anything would be preferable to lose each other. But what if you simply couldn't go on like you had, and disappointment and bitterness ended up separating you? What if the one who did not reciprocate their lover's feelings ended up falling for someone else?

✈️ Neither of you could be described as a timorous person. As a pilot, and a former military pilot at that, Boromir had been prepared to make potentially vital decisions in the span of a minute, and you had likewise never allowed fear and uncertainty to guide you. Still, as you keep meeting for the best sex of your lives, sharing intimacy and secrets and laughs and pleasure, you both decide what you share is too important, too precious and special, to risk it... even if it could mean the beginning of something even more marvellous.

✈️ In the end, the solution of your quandary is found not by you, nor by your handsome lover. You had not spoken about your relationship with Boromir to anyone else, more because it was simply a matter that only concerned the two of you than because you had to keep it secret, and your dearest friends simply know there is someone in your life who makes you very happy. He, on the other hand, is an even more private person, disinclined to discuss his personal matters… except with the person he trusts the most in the world, and with whom he has no secrets. "I have been seeing a woman." he confesses one night he and his brother have met for drinks in their favourite pub and remained there for hours just talking as usual, indifferent to everything and everyone around them. The pub is a nice place, he reflects, mainly frequented by men, but one day, it would be nice to bring you there, and have you taste his favourite drink… "I have met her on the job, she's a stewardess, and… she's amazing, Faramir. I have desired her since the moment we shook hands, and for… nine months now we have been having sex, the best of my life, I never even thought I could feel like this… she's everything I have ever wanted in a woman, in a partner, and then some." "Then why the long face?" Faramir, who has started dating his future wife Éowyn three weeks ago, asks, and he listens intently as his brother confesses his fears (something Boromir has never been good at doing) that the woman he has grown to care for so much does not reciprocate his feelings, would break up with him if she knew they want different things from their relationship, and could one day, worst of all, fall for someone else.

✈️ "Do you love her?" "I don't know; I have never been in love before, but I have never felt anything like what I feel for her, so yes, it might be love." Boromir says, shrugging; he doesn't care about names and labels, but he knows he wants more, he wants all of her and wants her to have all of him. He wants to share more than her bed and the warmth of her body; he wants to stop fearing he could lose her any day, if only someone else catches her gaze "I think… in time, I will grow to love her very much. But I don't know if she feels the same, she's very affectionate and I know I can... I mean, that she's satisfied with what we have now; and that's the problem. Maybe she's happy like this, and she could never see me as anything but a sexual partner..."

✈️ Faramir knows his brother doesn't want to be consoled or advised on how to tackle his problem (which he would be unable to do in any case, since he doesn't know the woman his brother has developed feelings for and has no idea whether she reciprocates either); what he needs is to be listened to, and Faramir is happy to lend him his ear, intimately saddened to see his older brother so uncertain, and at risk of having his heart broken. "I'm sure you'll know what to do when the time is right." he says, and while Boromir seems actually comforted by his words, he feels he can, and as a consequence has to, do more for him...

✈️ ... which is why on the next day he visits Aragorn at the company's office, under the pretext of inviting him for dinner but in reality with a very different intent. "I know there is a stewardess here named (name); will you tell me how to find her? She is not in trouble or anything, but I can't tell you why." he asks; Aragorn decides to trust him, and luckily you are at the office right then, having had to come for a meeting with your supervisor and other stewardesses. The moment the two of you are face to face it takes you a moment to recognize him, because Boromir has a framed photo of the two of them on his bedside table, and because the man in front of you is a slightly younger, vaguely gentler version of the one you have slept with for nine months. You know he doesn't work for the company and you have no idea why he has come to see you; for a terrible moment, you fear something has happened to Boromir, but Faramir hurries to reassure you. "My brother has told me about you; believe me, I would never intrude in his personal affairs, but he cares greatly about you, much more than he has ever told you, and obviously you don't have to lie to him about your feelings to spare him the disappointment, but... but sometimes the only thing stopping two people from finding happiness is themselves, and fear. Boromir has never been afraid, never since I know him, and this is why I beg of you, take care of him, and of his feelings. I'm sure you'll know what to do when the time is right."

✈️You remain where you are, dumbstruck, while Faramir thanks you for your time and leaves; after a while, you finally move, reach your car in the parking lot and drive home, where you spend an hour walking in circle and staring at the wall, your mind possessed by a single, simple and at the same time terrifying question. Now what?

✈️ "(name)?" Boromir says, appearing in the living room in front of you, and for an absurd moment you could almost believe you were thinking about him with such intensity, you had him appear by magic. "Are you all right? The front door was open." he says as he reaches you; you had completely forgotten you had decided to meet at your place tonight, and you were so engrossed in your thoughts you hadn't realized you hadn't locked the door as usual. "Yes, I'm fine; sorry, I was... thinking." you explain as you greet him with a kiss as usual, that he gladly reciprocates. You look at him, feeling the gentle but possessive way he's already cradling your hips in his hands, the pleasant scent of his aftershave making you shiver; oh, to Mandos with it, you think, I don't want to be afraid either. "I saw your brother this afternoon." you confess as your lover has already started kissing your neck, gently biting a point on your throat he knows makes you see stars "He... hmmm... he came at the office to talk to me... about you. About what you told him last night."

✈️ Boromir reacts as if he had seen the gates of Mordor open in front of him. "I can't believe Faramir would do something like this." he murmurs, and suddenly he can't even meet your gaze "(name), I... I am sorry, it doesn't have to matter..."

"But it does; it does matter, and please, don't be angry with your brother, he was only trying to help." you explain, taking his hands in yours "And I am happy he did it; very very happy, in fact." You hesitate for a minute, searching the right words and at the same time simply enjoying the closeness of his solid, warm body; as long as you are together, you think, you'll never be afraid. "There is a party I have been invited on Sunday. It's nothing special, just a friend celebrating her birthday, but it should be nice... and I'd like you to meet my friends; and one day, if you want, I could meet yours. What... what do you think?"

More than seeing it (you can't, since you're staring at your feet) you feel him smile softly. "I'd like that." he murmurs before kissing your hair; his mouth has touched every single inch of your body, and still, no kiss has ever been sweeter than that "I'd like that very much."

#The Lord of the Rings #Boromir #Boromir son of Denethor #Sean Bean #Boromir x reader #Bellona's stuff

[imjusta-girls-things]

is someone gonna write boromir x reader stuff or i'll have to take matters into my own hands??? ao3 doesn't give me anything, just like this app 🙄🙄

#boromir #lord of the rings #boromir son of denethor #the same goes to faramir #and haldir #i need it okay. #for personal reasons #boromir x reader #PLEASE.

[jamiewintons]

Boromir Relationship Headcanons

Boromir x F!Reader, headcanons are both SFW & NSFW (so no minors, please!). This is based on the movie version of Boromir, so if anything contradicts the books, I apologise 🙏

These are just some of the first headcanons that came to me, so I may end up doing a second post at some point! Anyway, hope everyone enjoys, and if you’d like to discuss Boromir headcanons, my askbox is always open!

****

SFW Headcanons

- Boromir is quite the romantic. He’s never really been in love before you, so it catches him by surprise how strongly he feels for you. Like he finds himself randomly thinking about you while he’s training and ends up all flustered and distracted. He never saw himself getting married either - he’d always been too busy defending Gondor - but once he falls for you there’s no doubt in his mind that he wants you to be his wife.

- Even if you’re of a proper status to be Boromir’s wife, there’s a good chance that Denethor won’t think you’re good enough for his favourite son. But Boromir will not relent in his desire to marry you, even if that means defying his father and marrying you in secret. There’s a good chance that Denethor will get past it eventually anyway, because in his eyes Boromir can really do no wrong.

- He is incredibly physically affectionate - he loves giving hugs, and cuddling, and picking you up and carrying you. He loves being the big spoon, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close to him while he buries his face in your hair. Even if he’s had the most stressful day imaginable, holding you in his arms makes all of the stress and bad things in the world seem to melt away, even if only temporarily.

- Boromir hates being away from you, though obviously his duty to Gondor means he often has to leave for battle, sometimes even for long campaigns. But he keeps you on his mind always, and he fights in your name just as much as he fights for his country and his people.

- One of the ways to make Boromir melt is to show him gentleness and tenderness. Like you tending to his wounds after a battle? You washing his hair? He’s going to fall even more in love with you and look at you with pure adoration in his eyes, just feeling so lucky to have married the most wonderful woman in Middle Earth.

- I think he’d want to have a big family, maybe four or five kids, and a mix of daughters and sons! Of course if you’re not comfortable with that, he’ll defer to your choice - he understands that when it comes to making a child, he’s really got the easy job. If you do end up having children, he’d be such a sweet and attentive father - just imagine him playing with your kids the way he did with Merry and Pippin in Fellowship 🥹 - and I like to think that he would encourage his daughters’ interests just as much as his sons’! He’s definitely making sure not to play favourites at all either, because he saw how much that hurt Faramir when they were growing up and to this day.

- (I saw an imagine post talking about dad Boromir where he plays knights with his daughters and it solidified girldad!Boromir as my favourite headcanon, but I’m having trouble finding it again - if anyone knows the post I’m talking about please send me a link, I’ll love you forever ❤️🙏)

NSFW Headcanons

- Boromir is a very attentive lover, and so so handsy. This man will be touching you all over while you’re making love, particularly focusing on your hips, breasts, and thighs. I think he’d love it if you’re on the thicker side, because it makes it even more satisfying for him to touch you.

- He can be a massive tease - especially if you have particular sweet spots that he knows how to exploit in the best way possible. When you moan loudly, he’ll look at you with the biggest grin on his face as he asks you if you’re enjoying yourself. He’s a tease with his words too - sometimes he’ll whisper something dirty in your ear in an otherwise innocent situation just to see you blush - but he’ll certainly follow through on any promises he might have made to you later.

- When Boromir’s not being a tease he’s still talking a lot, mainly a lot of praise and whispered sweet nothings. If you talk dirty to him, it drives him crazy.

- This man absolutely has a breeding kink. I don’t know what exactly makes me think that but I just get that vibe from him. Like I said above, he wants to have a big family, and he certainly fantasises about getting you pregnant. If you beg him to cum inside of you he will fold so quickly. And when you are pregnant, he can barely keep his hands off of you, though he makes sure to be extra gentle as to not accidentally hurt you while you’re in such a delicate condition.

- He eats pussy like he’s starving and you’re the first food he’s seen in weeks. If he could spend all of his time with his head between your thighs he’d probably die happy.

- Also he loves it when you sit on his face.

- He’s very proud of himself when he makes you come really hard, and he usually won’t think about his pleasure until he’s made you come at least twice, maybe three times. As such, he’s not really into quickies, he wants to take his time.

- His favourite places to have sex are in bed, and also sometimes in the bath (but touching each other in the bath usually leads to him taking you to bed).

- Boromir prefers to be able to look you in the eyes when you have sex, so any position that facilitates that will be a favourite. He does like putting your legs over his shoulders, but he also likes watching you ride him.

#boromir x reader #boromir x you #lotr x reader #lotr x you #lord of the rings x reader #lord of the rings x you #boromir imagine #boromir imagines #lotr imagine #lotr imagines #lord of the rings imagine #lord of the rings imagines

[hottpinkpenguin]

Knees - Boromir X Fem!Reader

Oneshot, word count: 3,167 Summary: You've tried to keep your feelings for Gondor's favored captain a secret, and done a damn good job. Until now. Warnings: angst, fluff, heavy steam, implied oral sex A/n: the poem in this oneshot borrows heavily from the lyrics of 'Old Gods' by Emily Scott Robinson (highly recommend her music if you enjoy Nanci Griffith, James Taylor, or Joni Mitchell)

Boromir could feel the beginnings of a headache pulsing at his temples. The din of the crowd milling around the Tower Hall was grating on his last nerve. His father had insisted on an extravagant banquet to celebrate his recent successes as the High Warden of the White Tower, but Boromir would have preferred to rest and spend the evening strolling through the streets of Gondor unbothered. Eager to get away from the crowd, Boromir strode out of the busy throne room onto the south facing balcony.

The night air was warm and smelled of jasmine. Boromir took a deep inhale, leaning his hands on the rail of the balcony and gazing out over the Pelennor Fields, the expanse of grassland that stretched out from Minas Tirith’s feet towards the banks of the Anduin. Boromir strained his eyes against the dim twilight; he thought he could make out the parapets of Osgiliath, Gondor’s first capital, now little more than a ruined river crossing. Faramir was there, as commander of the city’s garrison. Boromir had ordered his brother to oversee repairs to the old city to prepare for the coming battle. Beyond the dark smudge of Osgiliath’s long-vacant towers, an ominous blackness loomed over the land of Mordor. His thoughts turned bleak as he wondered what was stirring behind the mountains in that black land. Scouts reports had confirmed that orcs were-

Boromir jumped at the tinny clang of something metal hitting the stone floor in a darkened corner of the balcony. Instinctually, Boromir’s right hand grasped at the hilt of his sword and unsheathed it in barely more than a breath. He crouched into a warrior’s pose, his sword held out in front of him and his features steely as he looked for the source of the noise.

The quickness of his movements startled you almost as much as your clumsiness had startled him. You were glad for the darkness as you felt your face flush with embarrassment at your discovery. You hadn’t expected the High Captain of Gondor to skip out on his own banquet; in fact, you’d been counting on having the balcony all to yourself, so you’d be able to write in peace. There certainly wouldn’t be anymore of that, now that the small candelabra you’d been using for light was in two pieces on the stone floor. 

You leapt to your feet, muttering apologies and trying to keep your heart from beating out of your chest. You’d never been so close to Boromir before, and certainly not alone in the dark. Your mouth went dry at the realization. 

As one of the Steward’s personal scribes, you’d spent most of your life in the Tower Hall of Minas Tirith. On occasion, your work brought you into close contact with both of Denethor’s sons. Faramir was something of a friend to you, despite the difference in your stations. You both shared a love of the written word and his quiet temperament mirrored yours, making you fast friends. But it was Faramir’s older brother, the handsome and lordly High Warden, that made you go weak in the knees. It had been that way since you’d been old enough to notice such things.

You’d always admired him from a distance and kept your desires to yourself, confiding your feelings only in the pages of your journals. Nothing would come of your infatuation, you knew; Boromir was next in line for the Steward’s role, which was the closest thing Gondor had to a king. His title required him to wed someone of noble birth, and you knew his father would have nothing but the best for his favorite son. While your family was not poor and your duties as a scribe were a great source of pride to them, you did not have the aristocratic heritage needed to be a worthy match for the High Warden. And even if you did, he’s never looked twice at you, a harsh inner voice reminded you, causing your fragile heart to crumple at the reminder.

“Forgive me, my lord, I didn’t wish to disturb you.” Your voice sounded small and pathetic, and you felt your cheeks blaze with renewed embarrassment. 

Boromir relaxed at the sound of your voice, dropping his sword and chuckling softly. 

“You shouldn’t make a habit of startling armed men, you know,” Boromir chided you gently as he bent to pick up the fragments of the broken candelabra at your feet. He was so close that you could see the seams on his blue brocade tunic. When he stood, the candelabra in his hands, he stood almost a half foot taller than you. If you’d been bold enough to hold his gaze, you would have been forced to incline your chin up at him. But you kept your eyes fixed intently on the gray stone floor, hoping he couldn’t hear the erratic thudding of your heart in your chest. He was so close you swore you could feel the faint tickle of his breath on your temple. Your skin erupted in flames where his breath danced over it.

“I’ll make a note of that, my Lord,” you stammered in reply, barely able to keep your voice from breaking. 

“Please, Y/N, how long have you known me? Dispense with the ‘my Lord’ nonsense, I beg you. I’ve heard enough of that tonight.” The sound of your name in his voice sent a thrill running up your spine. You hadn’t realized that Boromir knew you apart from the dozens of other faces he saw on a daily basis around the halls of the Steward’s quarters. That fact, coupled with the High Warden’s closeness, scattered your thoughts like marbles on a smooth floor until you didn’t trust yourself not to press yourself against him, twine your fingers in his hair, press your lips to his, run your hands along the planes of his stomach, pant his name until you were breathless, grab his-

You audibly let out a small, breathless gasp as you tore yourself away and bid your feet to run. You knew that if you stayed that close to him for one more second you would do something irreparable and shameful. All you heard as you left, practically sprinting away into the relative safety of the well-lit throne room, was the blood pounding in your head. It drowned out the sound of the night breeze, the sounds of the party, and the sound of Boromir calling after you…

**********

Boromir watched as y/n scurried away like a frightened animal into the banquet room once again. He must have misread the signals, must have misinterpreted the tension in the air between them. Boromir wasn’t used to being rebuffed in his advances; most people were swayed by his easy charm, his skill with a sword, and his title at the very least. But y/n seemed immune to him, always preferring the quiet company of Faramir. Feeling frustrated and embarrassed, he called out after y/n, but his voice was swallowed up by the sounds of merriment in the throne room. 

“You damn fool,” Boromir cursed to himself as he ran a regretful hand through his hair. He tossed away the broken pieces of y/n’s candelabra, anger at his misstep boiling in his chest as he made to stride off. It was then that he saw it, resting precariously on the balcony’s railing. A small, leather-bound journal. 

Boromir hadn’t noticed it earlier, although he recognized it instantly. Y/n always carried such a journal. Aside from Faramir, it was y/n’s most steadfast companion. 

Boromir froze, eyeing the diary, a conflict raging within him. He knew that whatever contents the journal held were private and to open it constituted a violation of honor. The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. But, on the other hand, Boromir had always longed for a peak into y/n’s mind. For reasons he couldn’t quite articulate, Boromir knew that there was beauty there, if only he could access it. 

He hesitated for only a moment, casting a wary glance back towards the banquet hall. If y/n saw him, Boromir’s far-flung hopes would be dashed forever. No one was looking, and y/n had disappeared into the crowd. It was now or never.

Like a man dying of thirst, Boromir grabbed the journal greedily and cracked it open, his eyes roving the pages and drinking in the words. It was a journal, but so much more. There were smatterings of poetry: some of it original, Boromir deduced, but some of it copied down from y/n’s work in Minas Tirith’s library. Every so often, Boromir found a sketch. Most of it was of Minas Tirith, drawn from the vantage point of the mountains that rose up behind the city. A few horses, children, nondescript landscapes. They were beautiful renderings, detailed and delicate in the linework, incredibly lifelike. 

He continued to flip through the journal. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but in his eagerness to scour the entirety of the book he found he couldn’t focus on any one page for longer than a moment. 

Not until he found his own likeness staring out of the page up at him. 

Boromir recognized himself in y/n’s drawing immediately, although the pen-and-ink Boromir seemed finer somehow. Boromir’s heart pirouetted in his chest as he drank in the drawing, trying to decipher where it was that y/n’s drawing deviated from reality. Y/n had captured the line of his jaw perfectly, even the small scar above his right eyebrow. His hair was rough and unkempt looking, as if he’d just returned from a horseback ride, and he wore his simple fighting leathers. The eyes and lips were a perfect mirror to his own, but still there was something about the drawing… 

His eyes slid down the page to where, at the very bottom of the drawing, he saw a single line of small, impeccably neat handwriting:

A King in a long line of Stewards

Boromir felt the breath hitch in his throat. The sentiment was simple but beautiful, and it touched something very deep inside him. 

The feverish hunger to devour the journal’s contents in a single gulp from moments before slowed and dwindled to something much more tender. Boromir flipped the page slowly, the same neat handwriting covering the backside of the sheaf of paper where his portrait was drawn.

You must be a trick of the memory that the old gods are playing on me,

You travel with my love over plains, mountains and seas.

Your blue eyes are there when I close mine, 

Your voice chases me while I dream,

My heart cries out in the darkness for you,

The roots of the world shake with its scream. 

I’ll drown in this desire and choke on this need,

Say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees.

Boromir read the lines more times than he could count, luxuriating in the words until he could hardly breathe. He knew y/n’s words when he heard them, although he’d never heard anything close to this. Never dared to hope that anything approximating this was in y/n’s heart. His mind danced with a misty light, his heart suffused with warmth. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there, using the fading light of the banquet inside to read the lines over and over again until he had them memorized. 

At some point he surfaced from his reverie, his heart beating erratically against his ribs. He stood up from where he’d sat against the railing, smoothing the front of his tunic and the sides of his hair. With a final inhale, he strode off purposefully, weaving through the thinning crowd of Gondor’s nobility, ignoring their greetings. He didn’t hesitate until he found himself standing in front of y/n’s door. Shakily, unsure of what he was about to say, he knocked twice. 

**********

You heard two soft knocks at your door. You glanced at the moon outside, surprised that anyone would pay you a visit this late. It was nearing midnight, you guessed. There was a fluttery feeling in your chest coupled with a pit in your stomach that you hadn’t been able to soothe with either tea or a warm bath. You felt as if you were losing your mind by inches. You’d spent your entire life, more or less, in Boromir’s home and you’d crossed his path hundreds of times before. Why now were you suddenly undone like a smitten child? Your feelings for him weren’t new, so why were you abruptly unable to control them?

You tried to push those thoughts from your mind as you crossed your chamber and unlatched your door. You suspected it would be Teithand, the master scribe. On rare occasions he gave you a special assignment and made a habit of visiting your private chambers to discuss the details of these duties at all hours of the day or night. 

But the figure darkening your doorway wasn’t dressed in the long, cream robes of a scribe, but instead in the formalwear of Gondorian nobility. 

Boromir smiled at you, and the sight of him, leaning casually against your door frame and close to you set your heart ablaze again. The thoughts you’d tenuously strung together shattered and your breath hitched in your throat. 

When you saw the small journal clutched in the High Warden’s hands, however, your stomach fell into your feet. Horror and something deeper than shame consumed you in an instant. 

You hardly had time to process what was happening before Boromir stepped into your chamber confidently. He tossed your journal onto the bed behind you, his now empty hands coming to the small of your back and the side of your face as he caught your lips with his.

You froze. You’d lost all semblance of coherent thought. The whiplash of emotions had left you feeling terrified. Thankfully, your body reacted faster than either your head or your heart. 

As if you’d done it a thousand times before, your lips moved in sync with Boromir’s and your hands tangled in the thick strands of his auburn hair. You gave yourself over to instinct as your mind dissolved under the pressure of his lips. His breath washed over you - warm and ragged - as the two of you pressed your bodies against each other, eager to melt together in the quiet dark of your chamber. His hands roamed over you, tentatively at first, but faster and firmer as you responded to his touch with neediness. You heard a small, desperate groan escape from the back of his throat; the sound of it almost sent you catapulting over the edge of the logic. 

You caught yourself in the instant before you lost all control of yourself, breaking the kiss and pulling back just enough to catch his eyes. 

“Boromir, what is thi-”

“I’m yours,” he whispered back, cutting you off with his words followed by another kiss. This time his lips refused to stay contained to yours. He tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him as his mouth moved along its length. The places where his lips connected with your skin burned like a brand. You felt a heat building deep inside your core. 

“I’m yours, Y/N” he said again. This time it was him who had the sense to pull away. You were panting, and you would have been self-conscious if it weren’t for the fact that he too was on the verge of gasping. His hands came to either side of your face, framing them as his eyes bored into yours. 

“Aren’t you…” Boromir’s question died on his lips, replaced by an impish grin. He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes moving between your face and the ground beneath your feet. Between the confusion starting to coalesce in your head (what the hell is going on? the rational part of you screamed) and your body alight with desire, you didn’t have enough wherewithal to decipher his meaning. 

“Aren’t I what?” you asked dumbly. A sliver of anxiety spliced its way into your chest… maybe what you were seeing in Boromir’s eyes was just the neediness of a lord looking at someone he knew was game for a tumble in bed, and not the mirror image of your satisfaction at the fulfillment of a long-denied devotion. 

“Going to fall to your knees,” Boromir replied, placing a soft, gentle kiss on your lips. It was almost a question, as if he were asking you. The brazenness of his request startled you, but the heat in your core blazed in response. There was also something familiar about his words…

“In your journal… you wrote, ‘say you’re mine once and I’ll fall to my knees’… I’ve said it twice now, and yet here you stand.” He chuckled softly, his lips dancing along your jaw and over your cheeks as you tried to catch up to his meaning. 

Then, like a clap of thunder, it clicked. The poem. You’d written it over a year ago, the night after Boromir had left Minas Tirith with a garrison of Gondor’s guards to ride to an outpost at the southern border. You’d almost forgotten your words - you’d written so many of them, all of them for him. 

You let you a small laugh in surprise and a hint of embarrassment.

“Didn’t anyone tell you it was rude to read another’s writings, my Lord?” You emphasized the last two words, shooting him a wicked smile as you made good on your written promise and sank to your knees in front of him. Your fingers went to work on the lacing of his trousers, the urgency of the moment rekindling between you. Boromir caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to catch his gaze. He looked breathtaking, standing over you. A King in a long line of Stewards, you thought as you drank in the sight of him. 

“Call me Boromir,” he said simply. “I won’t have you calling me ‘my Lord’ for the rest of our days together.” His tone was casual, but you could hear the intention of his words. You hesitated only momentarily before returning to the task at hand. You broke into a smile, wide and triumphant, and although your attention was focused elsewhere, Boromir’s expression matched yours exactly…

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir x y/n #boromir x you #boromir imagine #boromir fluff #boromir lotr #sean bean #lotr fic #lotr imagine

[streets-in-paradise]

Courage

Relationships: (Platonical) Eowyn x (Fem)Gondorian!Reader / Eowyn x Aragorn (crush talking)/ Pippin x (Fem)Gondorian Reader

Warnings: Use of she/her pronoums

Summary: As a prelude to the celebrations on the victory over Saruman, the ladies of Rohan and Gondor participate in a simple encounter that seils their friendship validating each other's feelings in dark and lightfull topics concerning their hearts.

Note: For my dear friend @beautifultypewriter, inspired in her Gondor Girl concept. ( If you happen to like this one, I will keep working on releasing one more going full into the idea I brainstormed to you in dms)

Even after witnessing his demise, the voice of Saruman kept haunting her mind for a while during the trip back to Edoras. Despite being warned about it, she had certainly not behaved properly when facing the evil wizard responsible for the orc attack that caused the death of her brother followed by the kidnap of the hobbits. For once, she was the one doing exactly what Gandalf told her not to do and paid the price.

As a result of her angered search for a confrontation, she made herself another target of the prideful scolding. Saruman shifted guilt with skillful rhetoric, saying it was her who failed Boromir and let him die. The charm of his voice got her heart stricken with guilt. Although he didn’t waste much time on her, his insults were precise. He called her a wild beast that in nothing resembled the grace of a gondorian lady, a standing proof of the inexorable degradation in the lineage of Numenor that the ruling of Aragorn would not fix. In his conclusion, he didn’t forget to mention that Denethor would have rather been freed of a daughter than robbed of his eldest son. 

From all those claims, he presented at least one truth. 

The reminder of her father’s indifference was the last thing she needed at that precise moment. After acquiring a modest glory in the battlefield for the first time in her young life, being forced to think of Denethor was like having the victory being taken away. Her wins were twisted into flaws, making her feel once more relegated to the obscure spot he reserved for her back home. 

Only the sweet voice of Pippin bringing her back from the self absorption as they were riding away from Isengard managed to counteract the perverse effect. Given the rushed nature of their reencounter, he accepted no one else to take him merely because he wanted more time with her. The excited ramblings from her beloved hobbit about the escape from the orcs, his adventures in Fangorn, and his involvement on the attack plan of the Ents were enough to ease her heart.

On his part, Merry didn’t hesitate on reclaiming his share of the honors while hearing the tales from close, but he also understood that his cousin was trying to impress his lady. In return, Gimli told them in a prideful tease about the bewilderment that a certain gondorian shieldmaiden had caused among the Rohirrim through her courageous acts fighting alongside him, Legolas and Aragorn in the front line at Helm’s Deep. His comments made Pippin’s impulse to present himself in an heroic light increase with his admiration of her. 

It was simply lovely and she didn’t doubt in filling him with praise until he became a blushing mess hiding behind her. At the same time, he had accidentally reminded her of how proud Boromir would have been if he could have seen them together again after performing such great actions and that thought casted the sadness away. Time for celebrations was approaching and that brought a different, simpler reminder to her calmer mind. 

Until then, the people of Theoden had only met one side of her. Precisely the one she had forbidden at home, since they knew her as the warrior maiden of the Fellowship initially playing wolf on sheep’s clothing for Wormtongue only to reveal herself moments later. Since that fight the situation allowed her to never get back in disguise. The refined lady of Gondor once seen in Rivendell never stepped Rohan, but she thought it would be fun if she would make a comeback for the party. 

Let no one say ever again that she had no glimpses of the grace legends attributed to her bloodline.  

Presented with all the comforts that Eowyn could share with her, the transformation became an easy and midly fun previous step. It gave them time to have a good long talk together while taking part on a lady-like activity that wouldn't raise any concerns. The niece of Theoden had her own personal interest guiding a sudden want to perform feminity, one her friend knew that she wouldn't comment with anyone else. Revisiting her wardrove in the calm of her bedroom while talking of the latest events she didn't got to witness was a good start for both. For instance, she was a witness watching for her and willing to share details that her relatives didn't bother on comment to her before.

" He died doing what he loved, ... backstabbing his master. " The gondorian joked into her telling of Wormtongue's death. " Your uncle, infinitely kind hearted as he is, was still offering him a second chance. I think that worm realized he had made a strong bet on the wrong horse, but Legolas gave him no span to show the king any regrets. An arrow to his chest, quite ironical way to die considering what he did. "

Eowyn gave her a half smile, unsure of how to feel besides from a deep relief.

" His black heart craved only power, control over me."

The girl knew exactly what she meant. Her meticulous work hidding the most controversial aspects of herself from her father's sight weren't enough to keep her fame completely clean. Rumours had spread subtly, and to many men craving control those have came out as attractive. If the only daugther of the Steward was wild as the forest, every single one of them believed themselves to be the one that could tame her.

" You are free of him." She sweetly concluded, holding her hand and abandoning her sight from the beautifull garments to focus completely on her. " And we can still hate him in secret, if you wish. I have encountered my own amount of despicable noblemen in Gondor, but none of them has yet sold to the dark power hoping to receive me as spoil of war from the looting of his own countrymen. You resisted with courage, one of the kind that many soldiers in the battlefield won't understand. I do, and admire you for it. "

It was the most heartfelt compliment Eowyn had received in a good while and it was hard to explain why a surprising happiness invaded her.

" You, my friend? After obtaining glory for both of us? "

The gondorian was eyeing the blue fabric of a cute dress she was considering to choose.

A reminder of the sea, of her mother.

" Would you believe me if I tell you that your domestic feat remains more impressive to me than all my killings at Helm's Deep?" She suddenly confessed. " Being alone in Minas Tirith with Denethor would be a nightmare on itself. To that add one of my brothers dead and the other one exiled, while also having to flee from the advances of a repulsive man seeking to submit me through resignation. Inviting me everyday to accept him as some inevitable fate, remiding me I'm alone in the world ... I don't think I would have endured it as well as you did, always keeping your royal dignity."

Eowyn had sat on the bed and, dress in hand, her friend followed.

" If you think I'm strong, please look at yourself, because your strenght inspired me that night."

" In some twisted way that escapes all forseen ends, justice was served. " Was her simple reply. " Your brother and my cousin are avenged."

The garment was carefully placed at their side as the guest rushed to hug her.

" Vengeance is not over, because you are going to look gorgeous for your crush and have fun. " She mischievously whispered. " Haven't you think about it? The hatred on Grima's eyes as he was leaving Meduseld was too focused on Aragorn, and now I think I see why ... "

The rohirrim lady looked up in shamefull surprise.

" No, you don't! " She attempted to defend herself in a playfull tone, breaking the contact. " That's not true, and I don't know how it occured to you, but ..."

" But Arwen is leaving with her kind, as far as I know, so I don't see an issue." The gondorian encouraged her. " I got to meet her in Rivendell, and I meet her father ... If I had one as wonderfull as Elrond, I would too seek to follow him. Besides, you are my best friend and Aragorn has become like a brother to me. if a mortal woman shall eventually come to cure his sadness, I would rather her be you. "

Her eyes were shinning with hope, but not only to the kind voice inspiring her yet a third kind of courage to face her growing feelings for the Ranger.

Loneliness fading, like ice slowly melting, to the certainty of knowing she had found a friend. Another presumably lonely young woman, at least in terms of companionship that could be found of other women, who had so quickly shifted such strong affection towards her.

" As my beloved friend that you are, I beg you not to feed my dreams so soon."

" Allow yourself to dream for a while, you deserve it" The foreign girl insisted. " If things don't work as we expected, we will deal with that later ... Together. "

She liked the sound of the last sentence, but kept her objections.

" How? Do you know the cure for a broken heart? "

" Let that brave heart of yours to take the risk, not only by the blade its strenght can be measured. " The gondorian concluded, then kissed her forehead. " If turns out my brother of the sword is not the one, I still have one more blood brother to introduce you to. And if you don't like that one, I'm pretty sure Merry has no hobbit lass waiting for him at the Shire. "

Her positivity and will to comfort her ended up getting a few chuckles out of her. Not exactly because of the jokes, but due to the happyness she found in her insistent support.

" I believe your love for the halflings is starting to put Gandalf's to shame."

The called out lady smiled, clearly on remembrance of her own infatuation.

" One stay in Rivendel and days of travel on our quest was all it took for Peregrin Took to win me over, and he wasn't even trying. " She began to tell. " There are some men of Gondor that think not much different from the says of Saruman about me: a wild beast, only to them I'm a fair one ... And all wildeness is up to be conquered and rulled, owned to make use of. They approach me like a mare in need of taming, thinking they will perform the miracle of my submission. Do you understand now how could I have fallen for one of hobbits that released the forest? "

She could have continued, but no more words were needed to make her understand the core of her reasoning on her feelings.

" Wouldn't you prefer the green one?" Eowyn pointed out, regarding the dress choice. " In homeage to Fangorn, and your love."

#lotr #lord of the rings #gondor girl #(platonical) eowyn x reader #pippin x reader #peregrin took x reader

[mimilind]

Stranger of the Falls - Part 5

Pairing: Boromir x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2200

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

※※※

5. Boromir

The sun did not rise the next morning. Or perhaps it did, but you could not see it through the darkness emanating from the enemy’s realm. 

News traveled even more slowly now with the villages so empty of people, but when another day dawned equally dark and sullen as the previous, words reached you that Gondor had lit the famous beacons in the south and sent the Red Arrow urging Rohan to ride to their aid. 

You also learned a huge orc army had taken control over the fort at Cair Andros. They were swarming all over both sides of the river and in the cover of the unnatural darkness they plundered storages and burned villages at will.

When Främling heard about it his face became ashen. 

“Cair Andros is in Anórien, a Gondor fief,” you said, feigning calmness you did not feel. “Gondor is our mighty ally in the south. They have protected us against Mordor for so long, and I am certain they will succeed this time also, especially with our riders on the way to help. The steward of Gondor is a brilliant statesman they say, and his sons mighty warlords. Together they will settle this. Fear not.”

At his dismayed face you became silent. He was looking at you almost with the same despair as when he first woke up after the accident. “Your king must pass through there,” he droned tonelessly. “In his way to aid Gondor, Théoden has to pass near Cair Andros, but with orcs throughout the lands he will be delayed. Then Gondor stands alone. All hope is lost.”

From the way he spoke you suddenly understood. His dark hair, his wealth. “You come from there. From Gondor.”

He did not meet your eyes.

“Who are you?” you asked again. “Please tell me. I need to know your name in case…” Your voice trailed off and you felt a tear trickle down your cheek.

He softly wiped it away. “I am Boromir, son of Denethor of Gondor.”

“Boromir,” you whispered. The mighty warlord. Here in your village, unable to use his right hand properly. No wonder he had lost hope.

When more tears filled your eyes he drew you to him in a hug. “Forgive me. I should have been there, defending the fort, keeping the enemy at bay. Had I not… But even then, I am not certain we could have– There is this weapon you see. The one I dreamt of. It exists, and if the enemy acquires it then…” His voice trailed off and he drew several breaths. “I am rambling. Do not listen to me. You are right; the war may never reach this remote place, and if it does I will protect you with my life.” He kissed your head. “Do not weep. Nothing will happen.”

But you heard in his voice that he did not even believe that himself.

※

He went out again and soon you saw him in the paddock, brushing the horse, talking in a soothing, soft voice. Svarten did not try to tramp or kick him; he actually seemed to enjoy it.

Vidar sauntered by, his new golden belt gleaming around his waist. You glared at it.

“I am impressed,” said he, indicating Boromir. “Never have I seen a man manage Svarten so well. Lord Främling is an extraordinary horseman.”

“And you owe him,” you retorted. “Do not pretend you were unaware of the value of that belt, yet what you gave him in return was hardly worth a thing. Nobody in their right mind would pay even a penny for Svarten! You should return the belt and lend the horse to him for free.”

Vidar protectively covered the belt with his hands. “Well, enough chit-chat; I have a palisade to guard. Later!” He hurried off.

Annoyed, you turned your attention back to Boromir. He had mounted Svarten and was riding round and round, swinging the sword in his left hand. It did not show that he had been nearly paralyzed not long ago; he sat steady like a rock in the saddle, quite a feat for someone with only one good leg.

It struck you that he no longer needed to stay in your house. You had done what you could for him and he would manage the rest himself with all this exercise.

A bit guiltily, you hoped he wouldn’t realize that himself; you did not want him to move out. You could not stand the thought of being alone at night when everything was so frightening in the world.

Besides, where else could he go? He did not know anyone in the village and it was too dangerous to travel. He was stuck with you.

You thought about the hug and kiss he gave you earlier and wondered what they meant. A gesture of friendship? Or more?

Suddenly you wanted it to be more. Under this strange, frightening darkness, in the midst of war and worry, you wished for a glimmer of happiness. A few stolen moments of tenderness and love to carry you on.

But as you thought about it, trying to picture Boromir and you as a couple, you realized you could not. There was a certain bitterness in him, troubled thoughts or memories that filled him with guilt and hopelessness. You suspected that even if he did feel something more for you he wouldn’t allow himself to succumb to it.

If only you had met in other circumstances! In peaceful times, perhaps in your youth, then it could perhaps have come to be.

You felt robbed of his love even though you never had it.

Then you squared your shoulders. As always, there was work to do. You wiped your moist eyes dry and left on your daily round to check on the sick and elderly.

※

At noon, Boromir and you shared a stew with hard bread and mashed potatoes. Somehow this time it felt different to sit opposite to him in your simple house. He looked larger, stronger, more dangerous – like the captain and warlord you now knew he was. He made you feel small.

It was as if he had become even more a stranger after you learned his identity. Now your romantic thoughts from earlier seemed laughably absurd. Lord Boromir was a nobleman; he would never have fallen for a simple Rohirrim healer even if his heart wasn’t so troubled.

Then a couple of red stains on his tunic caught your attention and you temporarily forgot being uncomfortable as your healer’s instincts kicked in. “Your wounds have reopened.”

He glanced down and shrugged. “Not much.”

“Let me examine them.”

He looked amused at your worry but did not protest. He removed his surcote, tunic and shirt and lay down on your bed.

Two of the arrow wounds had a crust of blood but they looked much better than you had feared. Somewhat calmed, you cleaned them and smeared on more ointment. The bleeding had already stopped so you left them unbandaged.

When you had finished, you grew uncomfortable again. You were reminded that this man who lay half-clad in your bed was Lord Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor. 

It felt like you saw him for the first time. The stewards were said to have Númenorian blood – they were heroes of old, part human, part elvish – and hence would grow older, taller and stronger than most men.

Looking at him now, you did not doubt the truth of that. How could you not have realized he was of such noble descent? Boromir’s features were aristocratic, from his straight nose and chiseled jawline to his bright, gray eyes, and now without the bandages you saw how perfectly sculpted his torso was. Like a work of art.

Your mouth became dry as you took in the sight.

“Finished yet?” he asked.

Face hot, you tore your gaze away. “I am. But you should not work so hard when you are still healing, my lord,” you scolded, hoping he did not notice how flustered you had become.

He only laughed at that, again striking you with how rich and warm his laugh was.

“War is upon us and you fuss over a few scratches? You need to change your priorities. Also – simply Boromir will do; I am not your lord.”

You could not help smiling back.

“When the men return and I have ascertained the village is secure, then I shall rest,” he promised. 

As he put his clothes back on, his forehead furrowed. “I only wish there were more warriors left… And that your houses and palisade were of stone, not wood that can be burned. Orcs are too fond of torching things.” When he saw your expression he hurriedly added: ”But the war will not likely reach this remote village.”

”You believe it will,” you accused.

”Do not trouble yourself about that. I will think of something.” 

“I can help.”

“Well then.” He suddenly smiled. “Let us think together.”

He sat on your bed, leaning his back against the wall, and you sat next to him. 

Silence ensued.

You tried to think of all the clever ways to protect places you had heard or read about. Boromir was right; stone walls seemed to be the most common part of the defense – with archers on top of them – and channels with narrow bridges leading up to the gates. This, you had heard, was what the Hornburg in Helm’s Deep looked like.

You had no such walls here, and no archers either, but maybe… “What about a moat?” you suggested. “We could channel the river here and lead it around the village. Can orcs swim?”

“Fairly well; it would need to be deep for it to work. And we are too few to dig one. If I had the strength of both my arms…” He frowned, glaring at his right hand as if it had betrayed him.

“Could we frighten them off somehow?” you asked, trying to take his thoughts off his incapability. “What do they fear? Apart from sunlight…”

“Not much.”  

He fell silent again, scratching his beard while he thought. A while later he suddenly looked up. “I think I may have an idea… Do you have anything that will burn for a prolonged time?”

“Firewood?”

“No, it has to last longer. Lamp oil could work, or distilled wine.”

“We have tar, plenty of it. We use it for waterproofing.”

He brightened. “Excellent! Show me.”

You asked Vidar to unlock the village storage, and on the way there Boromir explained what he wanted to do.

“An interesting idea,” said Vidar. “Dangerous, but might actually work! Here we are now.”

He opened a barrel of the black, oily liquid. There were many more. Tar was common in this area so you traded it to other villages, and some was sent down the river to be used for shipbuilding in Pelargir.

“Splendid! And you have such an abundance, too. I need most of these barrels, I think. Can I trade you something else for them?”

“Hm.” Vidar gave Boromir’s boots a calculating look.

“Do not be ridiculous.” You gave Vidar a shove. “If he will use it to save the village he shall have it free of charge.” You explained to Boromir that nobody owned the land where the tar pits were located so the resource belonged to everyone.

The two men carried out several barrels, despite your warning to Boromir not to strain himself and overdo it, and then he asked you to help him gather the people.

Soon the villagers curiously flocked around him. Apart from the bedridden elderly everyone had come, even Sigrid, one hand on her back and the other held protectively over her swelling stomach.

Boromir talked to them with the natural authority of one used to command. He told them that though it was not likely the war would come here, he had a plan that would protect the village just in case it did.

The people listened, none of them questioning his right to lead them despite not knowing who he really was. Why would they? They recognized a capable warrior and captain when they saw one.

He divided chores. Some were to dig, others to roll barrels to strategic locations, others to sharpen stakes. 

In no time the place was a flurry of activity.

Boromir and you worked with the stakes, sharpening them into lances and handing them over to Vidar and two other old men who pressed them into the soft loam outside the palisade with the sharp ends pointing outward.

Further out, Maja, her shepherdess friends, little Kalle, and many others were digging a low trench while trying to evade the enthusiastic nips of Ludde who thought they were playing a fun game. When they were done they would pour tar and cover it with boards and branches.

It took a couple of days until the preparations were finished to Boromir’s liking. Then he gathered everyone again. “Well done! After your hard toil we shall now finally be able to sleep soundly and without fear. One day, enemy armies might come this way to burn and plunder – but not this village!” 

As he raised his fist everyone cheered.

※※※

A/N: 

Just in case anyone wondered; tar is another word for pitch or bitumen, a more sticky form of crude oil. It has been used for waterproofing and for fuel in lamps and torches since ancient times. It’s of course highly flammable.

※※※

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir fanfiction #boromir x oc #boromir x you #lotr fanfiction #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings #hurt/comfort #healing #heroism #boromir lives au #reader insert #Stranger of the Falls

[aerysa-targaryen]

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞?

Request by anon: Would it be alright if I request a boromir x reader one-shot. I'm not great at coming up with plot but I'm just craving boromir angst, maybe something where you get in an argument with him over something or maybe where he gets super hurt because you've been avoiding him for months and he finally can't take it anymore and asks why and you tell him lord denethor forbade you to be near boromir because you were a distraction to him? 

Type: Angst/Fluff

Warning: none

Characters: Boromir, Denethor, Faramir and some secondary characters

Numbers of words: 2.6K

You’ve been friends with Boromir for a long time, you’ve always known each other. Since you were a child, because your father was one of Denethor’s counselors, the intendant and Boromir’s father. To be honest, you never really liked him, when you were little, he frightened you, and now, as an adult, you felt nothing but disgust for him. Despite this, your friendship with Boromir remained the same, you even became a close friend of his brother Faramir, you tended to console him, when his father was cruel to him, another reason why you didn’t like Denethor. So you grew up, and you became a beautiful woman, and as the months went by, Boromir’s attitude towards you changed, he was more polite, more courteous. There was a spark in his eyes that shone every time he looked at you, but you didn’t mind, you liked how he looked at you, how he talked to you. The only one in Minas Thirit who didn’t seem to realize that you were returning his affection was himself.

┊

One evening, when you had just left Boromir, a guard stopped you. "Denethor wants to speak to you as soon as possible, my lady. He asked that I escort you to his offices." The guard spoke firmly, and, you had no choice but to follow him. As you walked side by side in the white corridors of the city, you could not help but wonder. Why did Denethor want to see you? What was he gonna tell you? you shook your head to drive away those evil thoughts, and you realized that you were finally getting to the steward’s offices that you didn’t like. As the guard was leaving, you stared at his back before finally turning to the door and knocking. You waited for the man to let you in to push the wooden door and enter the office to light only a few candles here and there. You bowed before the man with grey hair, as the traditons wanted, even if you didn’t really think what you were doing. When you got up, you noticed the look in his eyes and you knew right away that you were not here to talk about the rain and the good weather.

┊

"You wanted to see me?" you asked him rhetorically, the answer being obvious, but you did not mind being somewhat insolent with him. "Sit down,y/n" he said coldly as you sat in front of him, eager to know the reason why he had summoned you. "I asked to see you tonight because of my son. You’re way too close to him, do I have to remind you that he’s a prince and you’re just the daughter of one of my counselors? Also, your father does his job in a pitiful way, I should send him back." He spoke in a hostile tone with an angry look. All your exchanges went like this, you were always measuring your strength to his, but, because of his social rank, he gained more times than he should have. "My father does a much better job than you, he should have been the steward, not you." You almost spit those words in the steward’s face that you didn’t like. Denethor, more than annoyed by your behavior, stood up and slapped you before speaking to you coldly. "Listen to me, little pest, I’ll be clear with you, stay away from my son."

┊

You put your hand on your red cheek where the man had dared to slap you, despite what he had just done, you kept your head high. "If I refuse, Intendant, what will you do? banish me from the city? You know very well that Boromir and Faramir will follow me through the whole Middle Earth, no matter where I go." You said in a confident tone. "Don’t you think I know that? Even if I don’t mind my incapable son following you, I want Boromir to stay by my side. That’s why, if you don’t stay away from my son, you’re not the one who’s gonna get punished… If you stay too close to my oldest son, I’ll have your father banished forever from the city, and he’ll have to fend for himself outside the city. Also, I think I remember him not being a good warrior." he gave you a smile that was all but honneste to finally lean towards you "it’s your choice, y/n" he finished, proud of himself, as if he had just killed an army of orcs all by himself. "So all right, I won’t go near Boromir." You talk, finally admitting to losing this verbal game.

┊

"You see you can be nice whenever you want. Now leave my office, I don’t want to see you again." He told you in that supporous voice that he always took to speak to his advisers, his servants and his people in general. You didn’t get prayed and you walked out of his office and slammed the door behind you, angry. You rushed to your room to think about what you were going to do. Once you entered your room, you came to sit by the window, looking at the stars above, in the sky. What could you do? This man was abusing of his power to keep you away from his son, and he must have warned the guards that if they saw you in Borormir’s company, they should come and tell him. Besides, if you persisted, your father would be banished from the city, he was your only family, and, you cared too much about him to lose him, too, he raised you since your mother died and you were more than grateful for everything he’d done for you. So, for once, you were gonna obey and stay away from Boromir, no matter how much it hurt you.

┊

At first, it was difficult for you to ignore Boromir and to act as if you did not know him, because he stayed by your side and you had to push him back several times in an angry tone so that finally he Abbandonne enifn . So several months passed, and the more the days passed, the more lonely you felt, despite Faramir remaining as much as he could with you even if you did not tell him the reason why you no longer wanted to see his brother. You just took a peek at him when you saw him, that sometimes he sent you back, but it never went any further, you were too scared for your father. Also you who loved Boromir, it hurt you to stay so far away from him for such a long time. But you told yourself that Denethor could not forbid you to see him forever, and, you hoped that one day he would reconsider his choice, even if you knew that this was certainly not going to happen. So you stayed alone with your pain, waiting for the days to pass, you even thought of leaving the city just to relieve your pain, but you were resigned.

┊

Boromir at first didn’t understand why you were pushing him away when the night before, you almost seemed to want to kiss him.But, when he noticed you kept avoiding him for weeks, you didn’t look back when he called you, when you passed him without looking at him. It hurt him more than you could have imagined, however nothing changed and you stayed away from him, you were so close and, at the same time, so far away. Away from him, away from his arms.To be honest, Boromir looked for a long time for the reason why you didn’t want to see him anymore, had you seen him in the company of another lady? Did you think he loved someone other than you? Despite the questions in his mind, he had no answers, and could not ask you why you were avoiding him. He was content to ask his brother about you, whom you seemed not to ignore, and this made Boromir jealous. Maybe in the end you loved Faramir and not him? Just that thought made him sad, but he couldn’t do anything, not as long as you kept avoiding him.

┊

So he decided to see you again, whether you like it or not, he had to know, he needed to know. He had to know how you felt about him, and more importantly, why you were avoiding him. So one evening, as you were leaving the main room, your books in your arms, he stood up and left the room, following you with a silent step. Like a wolf stalking its prey, Boromir followed you until he was far enough away from the room and you and he found yourself in a hallway where only a few guards would pass after dark. As you seemed oblivious to what was going to happen, Boromir went behind you and stuck you against the wall, using his body as a barrier, so that you could not go away. Your heart was pounding when you realized it was he who stopped you from leaving, your greatest fear was that someone would call you together and that guard would go and tell Denethor everything. You were so afraid that you just stared at the stone floor with a frightened air, yet when you heard his voice, you raised your head shyly.

┊

"Why are you ignoring me y/n?" his voice was calm as the man looked at you, in his eyes glittered a spark that you could not describe. "I’m not ignoring you, Boromir," you said in a calm voice as you looked at her eyes, which suddenly seemed to be filled with sadness. "Don’t lie y/n, you’ve never been good at it." he kept looking at you, he wanted to know why you didn’t want to see him anymore, when you didn’t answer, he sighed before he started talking again. "Tell me why you ignore me, please, did I hurt you?" he spoke softly, lowering his eyes to you, with a sad look. "No, you didn’t hurt me Boromir, you never hurt me, but…" you couldn’t finish your sentence while Boromir spoke in a sad voice. "Do you love my brother? I knew he was always better at love than I was, he was always nicer, more loving than me." His emotional distress made you sad and you gave him a sad smile.

┊

"I love you Boromir, believe me, you are one of the few interesting and beautiful men in this city," you spoke softly, as your heart was beating rapidly in your chest. As you spoke these words, his eyes began to shine with a new spark. "However, your father forbade me to stand by you, for I am a distraction to you, according to him. And if a guard sees me in your company, my father will be banished from the city and will have to fend for himself outside the city." As you spoke, you could see the rage burning in Boromir’s eyes. So that’s why you were avoiding him, because of his father, he had threatened you, and it pissed Boromir off to the max. Yes, he loved his father, but he absolutely didn’t like him threatening you because of the love you had for him. He leaned towards you and pressed his lips against yours before rising. "Stay here, y/n, I have to go see my father, then I’ll meet you in your room". Before you could answer, the man with the brown hair was walking away into the dark hallway, and, uh, he seemed furious. You quickly walked into your room before slamming the door behind you, and the hallway became silent again.

┊

Boromir walked into his father’s office without knocking, angry, before his father could speak, the man got angry. "What right do you have to threaten y/n? If you want to punish her for the love she has for me, I love her too. And let me be clear, if you dare threaten her again, I will leave this town with her, to make sure you can’t threaten her again." Denethor sighed, as if he had to explain to his 5-year-old son why it was wrong to eat candy before dinner. "She’s a counselor’s daughter, you’re a prince, don’t you see what the problem is? Do I have to explain to you that you are gold and that she is not worth more than mud? Be reasonable Boromir, there are other beautiful women who have a social status that will suit you better than her." While his father hoped that his words would appease his son, his words only enraged him further. "Can’t you understand that I love her, not another woman? that she has my heart?" he breathed, exasperated by the behavior of his father, who seemed unwilling to accept that what he felt for her was true.

┊

"Do what you want, Boromir, if you are stupid enough to choose her as your wife, do not come back to me if the people of the court mock you because of your choice, and, if you want my opinion, you will fully deserve to be mocked, for you seem to be blind to the love you bear her. Finally, you don’t seem to be any more intellectual than your brother… what did I do in heaven to have two stupid boys? Go away, I don’t want to see you anymore." He was talking about an angry look. Of course Boromir was very happy to obey him and he hurried from his dear father’s office, he hated to see you again. When he came to your room, he knocked gently on the door and when he received a positive response, he entered. You were waiting for him on your bed, sitting down, and you seemed impatient, but the answers could wait the next day, you missed him so much. only the stars knew what happened that night, but you clearly showed all the love you had for him, and as the sun rose, he made you a promise to marry you, no matter whether his father agreed or not.

┊

So, a few months later, you finally married, and lived your few months of joy together before Boromir was sent to Rivendell by his father. Your farewell was sad, and Boromir made his brother promise to look after you, no matter what. In the short time he travelled with the community, he often told anecdotes about you and your daughter, whom he loved more than anything, and he saw that he loved you. But he died protecting Merry and Pippin from the orcs, in his last moments of life, he asked Aragorn to tell you that he loved you and that he would be with you forever. You met Aragorn when he arrived at Minas Thirit, at the end of the ring war, finally, your daughter met him. She was very curious and when she saw Legolas, she started to follow him and asked him many questions, because he was an Elf and she had never seen one before. You had to go get her and you apologized to the blond-haired elf many times. He simply smiled and said that it did not bother him.So you learned what Boromir had asked Aragorn as he was dying and it filled your heat with joy, he was with you forever

┊

Thanks you for reading ! My request for Lord of the rings and the house of the dragon are open, so feel free to ask what you want ! Had a good day

#lord of the rings #boromir x reader #boromir x y/n

[ao3feed-tolkien]

Lovers | Frodo Baggins x Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/HRYKOuD

by se4shell

started off with simple headcanons I came up with for Frodo. But then it turned into lengthy, story headcanons. I couldn’t help myself !

please do not copy/repost or translate this ! thank you !

Words: 3530, Chapters: 2/2, Language: English

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M

Characters: Frodo Baggins, Reader, Sam Gamgee, Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took, Gandalf | Mithrandir, Aragorn | Estel, Arwen Undómiel, Galadriel | Artanis, Rosie Cotton, Gollum | Sméagol, Legolas Greenleaf, Gimli (Son of Glóin), Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Bilbo Baggins, Shelob (Tolkien)

Relationships: Frodo Baggins/Reader, Frodo Baggins & Reader, Frodo Baggins/You

Additional Tags: AFAB reader - Freeform, Established Relationship, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit Language, Sexual Content, lord of the rings headcanons, frodo baggins x female reader, frodo baggins deserves happiness, Adorable Frodo Baggins, Canon Divergence - The Lord of the Rings, big sad in the first part, funny in the second, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Canon Compliant, Hobbit Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/HRYKOuD

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #Tolkien #JRR Tolkien #Tolkien works #ao3 #fan fiction

[sotwk]

Losing my mind over "Steal Away"

(This Ask is referring to a Tag Game I did a while back inviting people to ask my about my current WIPS.)

"Steal Away" is actually a WIP Chapter 2 of my ongoing Boromir x OC series, "A Captain's Duty", which grew from what was supposed to be a Reader insert one-shot, "Breathe". I decided to run with the concept and flesh out the "Reader" into an OFC, so I could tell Boromir's whole story within the SotWK AU (slight spoiler: he LIVES in this AU, because I have the power to make it so!).

And because @scyllas-revenge is actually Boromir's wife in my eyes (I challenge you to find someone who loves the man more than she does), the OFC named Aerdis is based on/inspired by her. I have said it before... I like shipping stans with blorbos. It's my favorite fandom pairing.

Anyway, to address your Ask, Scylla, "Steal Away" takes place the day after the fateful dance between Boromir and Aerdis. They were, unfortunately, interrupted by Gondorian busybodies when they left the dance floor, and the lovely Aerdis slipped away before the besotted Captain could stop her.

So Chapter Two is basically Boromir seeking her out and being all:

And as the pair begin to realize they actually have mutual feelings for each other, they also see the challenges they would have to face in trying to get some alone time together. Boromir is, after all, a high profile figure in Gondor and the kingdom's most eligible bachelor. (Faramir is a close second, okay?)

And who believes that Denethor would accept a "low-born peasant" as a suitable match for his most precious son? Yeah...ol' Dad will be an obstacle for the couple, to say the least.

I hope to gain some steam in writing this new chapter and getting it out soon! <3 Thank you for the ask, @scyllas-revenge! I'm just as excited as you are to get this series rolling!

#sotwk answers #boromir #boromir fanfiction #boromir x oc #lotr fanfiction

[aphroditesmoon]

if you are still accepting requests, please could we have one where reader has to care for a sick (and stubborn!) boromir?

let time heal

boromir son of denethor ii x reader

warnings: mentions of battle, wounds, being sick

a/n: hope it's to your liking<33

°°°

You could hear a loud crashing sound accompanied by a sound of a man cursing loudly as you're mixing up the porridge for Boromir.

He is relentless, convinced that he should be there in battle despite his conditions.

"You can't even walk straight, better to sit tight where you're at." You yelled out from where you are.You heard no reply, but the very image of his scowl is conjured to your mind, fished out a small smile from your face.

When you've arrived back to his bedside, he's in the same position before you left as if he had never even attempted to escape your nursing. "Do you ever do as your told?" You tease whilst trying to fight the porridge off of his hand to feed him yourself.

"I'm not a child, I'm the captain of gondor." He states plainly. "No, you're sick. That's what you are. Now own up, here comes the choo choo-"

His mouth remains closed, and eyes glaring at you through your soul. You're sure if he hadn't broken three ribs and twisted his arm, he'd have strangled you for that.

"You're not funny." He snaps. "The wounds are on my ribs, not my fingers." You give no reply, shoving the spoon in his mouth. He eats it depressingly.

After a long gruesome eating session for him, Boromir finally relaxes and stops fussing to try and get up. You assume he's just embarrassed to be nursed like a child, but after the blow he'd received from the orcs, his injuries were not minor. And he knew that as much as you.

Night time came, the clouds starts to darken slowly, and per his begging, you tried your best to help him up to sit outside of the corners of your house, to view the sun setting and stars rising.

You help him down on the bench and he mutters a thank you as he slumps againts the walls of your house while you indulge yourself by leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes, the proximity allowing you to hear every breath he inhales and exhale.

When you finally open your eyes, you found Boromir already staring at you, eyes tired but so awake as he gazes down upon you. You keep the gazing intact, both of you enjoying the comfortable silence of mutual understanding of eachother.

"You're looking worse than me, you know?" He speaks finally, softly.

You raise a brow at him and let out a short laugh. "If that was somewhat an attempt to make me allow you to travel back to minas tirith on horseback, it's is a lousy one. Those broken ribs will remain broken if you don't let time heal it." You chided.

He shook his head, eyes free of any grudge. "Yet will time heal my heart if anything had befallen my friends, and I could not be there to protect them?"

"Boromir, you can't save everyone." You sighed out. He was silent then, almost as if you had struck him speechless with a sword

He blinked out of his trance and looks away from you, eyes enchanted by the stars now. "No, but I could try." He whispers out.

You grinned to yourself, watching his hopeful face try to capture the night's beauty with his eyes. "Look at you, so keen to save the world, yet you won't even let me try and save you from dying." His face snaps towards you and you notice his usual frown making it home again. "Protect me from what? the dangers of holding a spoon with my own hands?" He asks challengingly.

"From tripping over nothing and banging you head on window frames." You answer easily, recalling the multiple times it happened today only.

He rolls his eyes and looks back to the sky, failing to hide the small smile at the corner of his lips. "That was one time." He mumbled to himself.

It was not one time.

#boromir son of denethor ii #boromir son of denethor #boromir son of denethor x reader #boromir #boromir x reader #lotr x reader #lotr #lotr fanfic #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Endless Love - Faramir X GN Reader

Title: Endless Love

Faramir X GN Reader

Additonal Characters: Boromir, Denethor, guards (Mentioned), Reader's mother and father (Mentioned), and Rainassa (OC)

Requested by Anon!

WC: 4,268

Warnings: Forbidden love, arranged marraige, anxiety, nervousness, mentions of panic attacks, movie reference, Reader had a pet bird, love at first sight, angst to fluff, flirting?, confessions, and fluff

It took a year, a year to arrive in Gondor, and you were wishing you could go back in time. Your mother had sent you off to marry the eldest son of Denethor of Gondor, Boromir. You had no desire to marry this man. And yet, Denethor had chosen this Boromir, one of his two sons -- for political reasons that you weren't privy to. That meant that you couldn't say no, you'd have to be married to this man. You didn't particularly like the idea. It was just too cruel. You were so very young still. You hadn't even hit your late twenties. You had so much you still wanted to do. You wanted to go on adventures. Climb mountains and learn all about different types of plants. You wanted adventure.

Yet, here you are, in your room to where you would spend most of your days. On the balcony, overlooking the vast barren lands. It was a beautiful morning, and you enjoyed gazing out across the land as the sun began to rise. When your thoughts turned darker, you tried to distract yourself from them by thinking of other things. Like your mother at home, and your old room where your pet bird, Eovy, played in his cage.

In the distance, you narrowed your eyes as you watched men on horses ride to the entrance of Gondor. There were at least twelve of them, and one in the front, leading them all. 

"The Steward of Gondor! Faramir has returned!" A guard cheered from down below, making you raise an eyebrow.

"Boromir has a brother?" You asked yourself before someone knocked on your door.

Sighing, you knew that knock... You had only been in Gondor for merely a month, and you had grown familiar with Boromir's callings. You walked over to the door, opening it to let your betrothed in. 

"Good morning, my dear. I've come to fetch you to meet my brother. He has returned from his venture father sent him on." Boromir said cheerfully.

You smiled tightly, "Oh well, let us go see him then." 

He then offered his arm to you, which you took, as he led you down the long hall to the throne room. The walk was slow and mighty cumbersome, as it had always been with Boromir. Yes, he was a fine man. Charming and handsome. But, there was no spark, no en-dazzlement, none but the usual qualities of a nobleman. Yet, he was kind to you, and that was all you had to ask. Maybe, after some time, you would grow to love him. But, at this time, all you craved was the love of a man with real... Quality.

"You never told me you had a brother." You spoke up, breaking the awkward silence.

Boromir paused before answering, "I did not tell you until now," He replied with a small grin.

"Why?" You asked with a raised brow. You really wanted to know the reason why. 

"Because, dear, I do care for my brother, but since he wasn't here... I didn't find it necessary to mention him."

"That doesn't explain anything." You frowned.

"Fair point. I understand for this betrothal to continue, I should be more forthcoming." Boromir looked down at you with a smile, "To that, I apologize, my dear."

You pursed your lips, nodding before looking back in front of you, finally entering the throne room. There, you felt as if time stopped. A few feet in front of the throne, stood a man. Tall, with sweeping golden-blonde locks, a slight stubble upon his jaw, and a piercing gray gaze. His eyes swept over you before quickly settling back upon you as Boromir greeted him warmly. 

"Brother, this is Y/N L/N of Asteria... My betrothed." Boromir introduced you to the man he called brother. 

Faramir couldn't keep his eyes off of you, giving you a small smile as he took your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Faramir, son of Denethor. Brother of Boromir. A pleasure to meet you, Y/N of Asteria."

Your mouth went dry, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, my lord."

His smile grew as he gave your hand a squeeze, "Shall you be joining us at supper?" He asked, as he reluctantly dropped your hand, and you bit your lip, missing the warmth that his hand gave yours.

"I shall be there." You nodded, completely entranced by the youngest brother's eyes. Oh, how they pulled you in, made you want to be closer to him. You found yourself unable to pull your gaze away. How strange. Perhaps it was because of their rare color? No. Not quite. Maybe something else? You didn't know. All you knew was that the way his eyes seemed to look right through you... Into your very soul.

"Perfect, Y/N, dear, let me take you back to your chambers, you'll need time to get ready as I catch up with my brother," Boromir spoke up, snapping both you and Faramir out of your trance.

"Ah, yes. Of course. I'll see you later then, my lord." You bowed your head respectfully to the youngest brother before following Boromir.

"It seems my brother is already quite fond of you, my dear." Boromir began, your arm looped with his arm, "I could see it in his eyes."

You hummed, the smile still on your face, "He is quite lovely." You agreed with a nod.

He chuckled, "Indeed, he is." He stopped in front of your chamber door. "I sent a maidservant to help you get ready. I'll see you at supper." He spoke, and you nodded in agreement before Boromir pressed a kiss to the middle of your forehead. "Until then, my dear." He then let go of your hands, before walking down the hall. You sighed, watching him go before quickly entering your chambers. 

You shut the door, leaning up against it as you let out a deep sigh, pressing your hand to your chest, over your racing heart. That man, Faramir. Oh, how he made your heart race, made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Your breath came short and fast, a sudden heat rushing to your cheeks.

"Get a hold of yourself..." You grumbled to yourself before pushing off of the door and heading toward the bath. "He's your betrothed's brother." You scolded yourself, "Foolish to fall for that man, no matter how... Attractive he may be."

A knock sounded at your chamber door, followed by a voice, "Your Highness, I hope I haven't interrupted anything?"

You smiled, turning to the doorway and stepping back to allow the woman who worked for you to enter. She curtsied once she got into your chambers before speaking, "Steward Boromir had mentioned you were in need of help."

"Yes, thank you, Rainassa. It looks like my bath needs to be prepared immediately."

She nodded her head, bowing deeply, "Of course, your Highness."

You blinked, "Please, Rainassa, call me Y/N. I've told you this."

Rainassa nodded, "Yes, my apologies, your- Y/N."

You smiled, "Thank you, Rainassa."

She curtsied again before leaving to prepare your bath.

~~~

Entering the large great hall, you gained the attention of Boromir, Denethor, and Faramir. Boromir immediately stood up, as did Faramir, across the table. Boromir pulled the chair out for you beside him, pushing you closer to the table once you sat. Denethor gave you an odd smile before he started eating, grabbing a couple of tomatoes, a slab of cooked meat, and potatoes. You did the same, grabbing your own serving of food from the table, as did the two brothers. 

You ate quietly, trying not to think about what was going on around you while you tried not to stare at the Steward. Finally, when you noticed he was watching you, you looked up at him, offering a shy smile. He smiled in return before looking down, causing your heart to flutter in your chest.

"You are looking marvelous tonight, my dear." Boromir suddenly stated, catching your attention.

"Oh?" You whispered as you glanced up from your plate. "Why, thank you."

"Yes. Simply enchanting." He added.

"You flatter me so, Boromir." You gushed awkwardly, feeling embarrassed.

"Do you not agree, brother? Aren't they such a beautiful creature?" Boromir spoke up, his words drawing you out of your thoughts.

"They are indeed. Quite lovely, in fact." Faramir replied with a small smile.

"I'm quite glad your father and mother agreed to the marriage, Y/N." Denethor spoke up, "After all, you are marrying the Captain of The White Tower."

You wanted to cringe. You wanted to cry. You wanted to run away as far and as fast as you could. Why did people keep talking about this wedding? Why did everyone seem to expect you to fall in love with your betrothed? This wasn't a fairy tale where you would fall magically in love with the man they would hand you off to. You didn't want your story to be written out for you. You wanted to write your own story. And you did not want to marry Boromir.

The supper was long but short at the same time. It felt as if time stopped and sped up all at once. But, thankfully, you were excused by Denethor, and you were all too thankful for that.

"I would like to wander the kingdom, if I may." You said as soon as the three of you were free to leave the dining hall and return to your chambers.

Boromir frowned slightly, "I will not be able to accompany you, I have prior  duties to attend to."

"That's alright." You smiled softly. "I know the grounds well enough to walk them on my own."

He hesitated for a second before turning to Faramir. "Brother. Will you accompany my beloved during their walk?"

"Of course." Faramir nodded, "Anything for the betrothed of my brother."

Boromir smiled, patting his brother on the shoulder, "Thank you, brother." Before he turned to you, taking your hand in his, "Be safe, my dear. Wander back soon." And with that, he left the great hall. 

You turned to Faramir, as he offered his arm to you, which you quickly took. 

~~~

Walking through the kingdom and entering the courtyard, where the fountain and the White Tree of Gondor resided. The courtyard was lit up by the many flames of torches, the light making everything glow gold. It was peaceful and serene as the sun hung low in the sky. 

"May I ask you something, my lord?" You suddenly spoke up, breaking the comfortable silence between you two.

He looked at you, "What is it, your Highness?"

"Your mission, where did you travel?" You asked, and Faramir smiled.

"Far East." He answered, "Past the high mountains."

"And what was your goal there?" You asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

"To guard and maintain the eastern borders of Gondor." He turned to look down at you, "And, please, call me Faramir."

You smiled up at him, staring up into his brilliant gray eyes, "Then, please, Faramir... Call me Y/N."

Faramir gave you a warm smile, placing his hand on yours that lay on his arm, "Y/N." He repeated.

You blushed, glancing at your feet as you continued to stroll through the courtyard, circling the fountain before staring off at the sunset. It was oddly romantic. You couldn't stop staring at the sunset.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Faramir spoke up.

"Yes... Yes, it truly is." You breathed out, smiling softly. "A beautiful sight. I never got a view like this in Asteria."

"Really?" Faramir asked, and you nodded as you reminisced about your old home.

"My home is like none other. The kingdom lies within a valley, in the middle of two mountains. They stood so high that I was unable to ever see the sun rise or set. We only had the moonlight and stars to guide us." You looked back up at him. "But, we lived happy lives, I do remember. There were times I could barely sleep because I wanted to venture outside and explore."

Faramir hummed, "Your kingdom sounds lovely. Almost as lovely as the soul speaking them." He complimented you, before continuing as you bit your lip and blushed down at the floor. "Do you enjoy adventures?"

"I want adventure in the great wide somewhere. I want it more than I can tell." You sighed, staring up at the stars that began to sparkle in the sky. "And for once it might be grand... To have someone understand... I want so much more than they've got planned..."

It was silent, neither of you saying another word.

"Perhaps, one day," Faramir began, licking his lips, "You'll go on those adventures you so crave."

You could only look up at him and smile, bittersweet, "One can only hope."

~~~

The next day was a slow one, and Boromir was going over the wedding preparations with you. The aura around you and your betrothed was very tense. He seemed concerned about what you were thinking, and you would put your own opinion in. You spoke of flowers and the type of music that would be playing. You both discussed the decorations that needed to be made, and where to find fabrics and clothes. He listened patiently to you talk, and you appreciated that. You were grateful.

"And what about the food?" You finally asked after you finished discussing the arrangements.

"The food?" Boromir asked, surprised.

You nodded, "Yes, we need to eat something, do we not?"

"Of course, yes." He smiled slightly.

"Well then, what should we eat?" You inquired.

Boromir hummed,  "Whatever seems most appetizing to you, my dear."

You mimicked his hum, thinking deeply, "Let's go with…

~~~

Again, like the evening before, Boromir was engaged in prior duties, and you were left alone. However, as you left your chambers, you almost ran into Faramir's chest, noticing him right outside your door, hand raised to knock.

"Uh, I apologize, your Highness, I was-"

"Oh! Faramir! I'm so sorry! Didn't mean to bump into you!" You apologized with wide eyes. "I uh, I was just... I needed to get out."

"Ah, I see." Faramir nodded slowly. "Shall I escort you?" But before he could even finish his question, you looped your arm with his.

"Yes, please."

And like the night before, you and Faramir wandered around the courtyard, speaking about nothing and everything. You felt so at ease with Faramir beside you, and you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the young Steward of Gondor. And you did not know how to stop it. You should stop it since you were betrothed to his eldest brother. This was beyond wrong, yet... You couldn't help it. You found yourself completely enraptured with the man. 

Faramir felt a sense of satisfaction when you smiled at him. Your cheeks flushed as he stared into your eyes, and he swore that every time he glanced at you, his heart skipped a beat. His mind was filled with images of you. Images of you laughing and smiling. At night, it was hard to sleep, when all his thoughts were filled with you. You were his dreams, his fantasies came to life. 

~~~

For the next couple of weeks, you and Faramir would sneak off into the night, just to spend time with one another.  Sometimes you'd walk around hand in hand, sometimes you'd sit together near the edge of the garden while looking at the starry night sky. It seemed as if every moment spent together was more perfect than the last. You were beginning to grow fond of each other, perhaps a little too fond. But who were you kidding, you were both deeply in love with each other. And the closer you got to the wedding, the more worried you became. What if you and Faramir get caught? What if someone finds out? What if..? Your mind was consumed in endless spirals of worry.

Only a couple of days before did Faramir confess his feelings for you. It was in the midst of one of your walks when you found yourselves sitting on the steps leading to the Great Hall, your backs resting against the cool stone walls. The sound of birds tweeting nearby filled the empty air, but neither of you noticed it, lost in one another's gaze.

Faramir had spoken, "Y/N, I have been meaning to speak with you about something."

You tilted your head curiously, "What is it?"

"I have been wanting to tell you," He began, licking his lips, "I have fallen for you."

Your eyebrows rose in surprise, "Is... Is that so?" You whispered quietly.

He nodded, and leaned closer to you, his fingers just brushing your cheek before he reluctantly pulled away. Your breathing hitched, as he looked down at the ground, his gray eyes now looking sad and conflicted, "I know this is undesirable. For I, have fallen for you... But, you are already betrothed to my brother. I would understand if my feelings are misplaced."

Your eyes widened, "Faramir, why would you say such a thing? Is what you say true?"

He sighed heavily, looking up at you. His eyes were dark and full of pain. "Please, hear me out, my love. If I am honest," He started, "I fell for you long ago. The moment you walked into the throne room when I arrived home from my venture, it was love at first sight. You enchanted me, Y/N. From the moment I first laid eyes upon you, my whole world shifted." He paused, and took a deep breath, "There is no turning back."

You frowned, reaching out and taking his hand, "If you think that I am not feeling the same way, you're terribly mistaken." You confessed, surprising Faramir, as he stared intently at you, "I, too, have fallen for you the moment I saw you in that throne room. How could I not? Your voice captivates me. Even your smile makes me weak in my knees... Every time I think of spending more time with you, my heart races and my skin heats. I cannot fathom how I will endure having to marry another."

His gray eyes widened, and he swallowed thickly. Your words had caused his emotions to stir, and he could not believe it. "I... I must confess," His voice trailed off. "I do not know what I am to do when you marry my brother. It may be too much to bear." He let out a shaky sigh, as he squeezed your hand tightly, "I have never felt this way toward anyone before." His face flushed red, "All I want is to hold you, kiss you, and feel you in my arms forevermore."

Your eyes quickly welled up in tears, as you dropped your head, bringing your free hand to your mouth, "Oh, Faramir..." You muttered, "Why does this have to happen to us?"

He blinked, startled by your tears. He pulled you close, as he held you tightly in his arms, "I promise, my love. We will find a way." He pulled back to wipe away your tears, staring down at you with his gray eyes, "This is just the start of our adventure."

~~~

The wedding, the ceremony, was only a couple of days away. And you were dreading it. Everything seemed too fast. All the events were happening so suddenly. You wanted more time. You needed more time. The thought of marrying Boromir brought a painful feeling within you. The fact that he would soon be your husband made it difficult for you to breathe. You didn't want to marry Boromir. You wanted to marry Faramir. You prayed to Eru Ilúvatar that he would help you. That somehow he would give you an answer. But no matter how many times you wished for it, none came. All you knew was that it was getting harder to breathe every day. You felt like you were suffocating. Like there was an iron grip wrapped around your throat, preventing you from breathing properly. So, you stood, gazing out at the world around you, wishing, hoping something good would happen.

Faramir was feeling the same. Though, he hid his anxiety well as he spoke with his brother in his chambers. Boromir was going over the wedding preparations. Like the flowers, you had picked out, and the music you chose. The food and decorations. Everything. His eyes scanned through the papers and notes he had written, and he let out a sigh.

"What troubles you, brother?" Boromir asked, concerned, noticing how quiet his brother was.

He shook his head, glancing up at him. "Ah, brother, you have seen right through me." Faramir awkwardly chuckled, his voice slightly cracking. "It seems that I can not contain my worries any longer. I have fallen for someone." He admitted sadly.

Boromir's expression softened, "Why so sad, brother? This is splendid news." He replied happily. "Who are they? Do I know of them?"

"It's not that simple, my dear brother. They are already promised to another. I do not have a chance." He sighed once again, "But I wish I did."

At this, Boromir furrowed his brow, "Well, don't be so sure about that! Have you told them how you feel?"

He shook his head, "I have. And they feel the same way. But... Our love is forbidden."

Boromir raised his eyebrows in slight shock, "By whom? Who has forbidden your love?" He questioned, growing serious.

"The world. The world forbids us, as our destiny was not meant to be." He explained.

Boromir sighed, "And what do you plan to do about it?"

"I do not know. That's why I must ask for your advice, brother. What must I do?" Faramir asked and Boromir hummed deeply, furrowing his eyebrows. 

"Do you love them?" He asked, and Faramir nodded, biting his lip. "Does Y/N love you?" Boromir then asked as Faramir nodded before freezing. 

"I-" He paused, his mouth drying up, "I did not tell you who they were." He muttered, eyes wide in shock, surprise, and fear.

Boromir gave his brother a knowing look, "It was an easy tell, dear brother." He mumbled before shaking his head, "Faramir, I have known you since the day you were born. You are my younger brother, so you should know that I love you dearly." Faramir nodded, completely unsure of what was going to happen and what his older brother was going to say. "I care deeply for Y/N, but I see how you look at them. There is nothing wrong with that." He said, shrugging, "It's only natural for a man to fall in love with a beautiful person like them."

A blush spread across Faramir's cheeks, "Yes, I suppose you are right."

"So," Boromir started, "I'll arrange for you and Y/N to marry in three days."

Faramir stared up at his brother with wide eyes, "Brother, but what about father?"

Boromir slapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a smile, "Fear not, brother. I'll deal with him. Be sure that you'll marry your true love. I would advise you to find Y/N and announce the changes."

Faramir smiled softly at his brother before nodding, "Thank you, Boromir." He whispered, pulling his older brother into a hug, which he returned enthusiastically. After bidding Boromir goodbye, he set off toward your chambers to inform you of what was happening.

As he knocked softly on the door, he heard the shuffling of feet before you opened the door. With a small wrinkle on your brow, you stared up at Faramir, confused.

"Faramir, what are you doing here at this hour?" You asked quietly as you stepped aside so he could enter.

He closed the door behind himself, before turning to you, "I have wonderful news, my love," He whispered to you, "We are getting married in three days." He added, placing his hands on your shoulders.

"What are you saying?" You asked, frowning slightly, "Are you playing some prank on me? I'll let you know it's not tickling me pink."

Faramir shook his head, "No, no, my love. I was speaking to Boromir, and he knew our feelings for one another. He is going to speak with our father and we're going to wed in three days."

You stared at Faramir for a short while before you began to smile, "Really?" You breathed out.

"Indeed." He answered gently, reaching forward to cup your face in his warm palms, and kissing your forehead. A happy smile formed on your lips, "And I will finally be able to be with you, forever." He breathed out, resting his forehead against yours, "How lucky I am to marry you."

"And I, you, my dearest." You sighed, "For I have never dreamed of anything more."

Faramir could only smile, as he brought you into a kiss, and cupped your face in his hands.  The two of you stood locked in each other's embrace for quite some time. As you broke the kiss, you both gazed into each other's eyes. He brushed your cheek softly with his fingers before leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. Both of you remained silent. Your heart was pounding madly inside your chest. It was impossible to believe this moment was truly happening. This was it. Everything had come to a halt, except for these few moments.

"I cannot wait to spend the rest of our lives together." He murmured, brushing his fingers along the curve of your jaw before cupping your face.

"Nor I, my beloved. Nor I."

#requests are open #requests open #requested #requests #request #anon ask #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #cute #fluff #slight angst #angst #faramir #faramir x reader #faramir x gn reader #faramir x you #faramir x y/n

[ao3feed-thehobbit]

Fuck the Forbidden

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qAwtpmU

by entishramblings

The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Words: 9722, Chapters: 1/2, Language: English

Series: Part 21 of LOTR/TH One-Shots (character x reader)

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Hobbit - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: F/M

Characters: Boromir (Son of Denethor II), Faramir (Son of Denethor II), Denethor II, Reader

Relationships: Boromir (Son of Denethor II)/Reader

Additional Tags: Depression, Drowning, PTSD, Alcoholism, Angst, Comfort, Fluff, Stalking, (listenidk how to make that last one sound less creep youre just gonna have to read it)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qAwtpmU

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #the hobbit

[adeliniel]

SFW alphabet | Boromir

It’s already weekends! Hope y’all are doing great and planning to have a perfect days off! I got ill and last days were really awfull. But things are getting better now and I hope to fully recover soon. Btw, I bring you another piece of LOTR fluff today^^ Please, enjoy!

Let me dedicate it to @cedricsseventeen who wrote me very kind comments and made me really hapy^^ Hope you’ll like it!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is the affection himself. If he loves you, why should he hide it from the world? Boromir is proud to love a woman like you, so he will show it everywhere to everyone. Holding his hand around your waist or shoulders, kissing your crown, smiling every time you look at him - everything makes him happy. 

B = Body (Their favorite body part of their partner, why? Do they like touch?)  

Waist, thighs, shoulders... Something intimate, something that is hidden from others eyes, something only he can touch. Light touch of his fingers that makes you shiver really drives him crazy. The power and fragility of the moment when there are only two of you.

C = Courtship (What do they do to take your attention?)

Boromir does everything for you to notice him. Being loud and showing his strength in every appropriate and not so way. Appearing from nowhere and initiating awkward talks about everything. Always looks out of the corner of his eye whether you're watching him or not, just to be sure he can show you his best. 

D = Domestic (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?)

Boromir loves not an ephemeral feeling of being home, but a real place - Gondor and Minas-Tirith. So he would do anything for his home to become yours. He is a good master in his house, so he definitely helps you with household chores, and he might be quite good at cooking.  

E = Espousal (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?)

Yes, yes and yes. He undoubtedly wants to marry you. Maybe he doesn't look like that, but Boromir will never be a man who'd dishonor you. So he would delay as many intimate things as possible for the moment when you'd be his spouse. And he wants this moment to come sooner. 

F = Fragile (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?)

He cares, but prefers to stand and watch how you manage with your problems ready to intervene at any time things get worse. He doesn't want you to feel pressed by his authority and power (and he really enjoys bragging about his wife - how clever and powerful you are).  

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they like receiving gifts?)

Boromir is not really into gifts, most of them he does as excuses for some things he messed up. And he never forgets about important days such as birthdays or anniversaries, and there yes, he'll do his best to find an ideal gift.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Boromir is quite a tactile guy, so he loves hugs in every way possible. Morning sleepy hugs, night desperate hugs, quickie hugs during the day, passionate, tired and many other types of hugs. When he hugs you the world stops and he could finally have a rest, so sometimes cuddles could last hours. Yet you never complain.     

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?)

Surprisingly enough Boromir is very romantic. He knows how to create a special moment for the both of you, where no one could disturb you. He knows how to say the words of love (murmurs them right into your ear so soft and teasingly), how to hold your hand and hug you (with his strong arms) so you lose your mind. 

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He is not usually jealous, because you knew each other for a long time before becoming a couple. So he has no doubt that you love him and stay by his side not by accident. Yet sometimes some men make him nervous, and not because he doesn't trust you, but because they are too insistent. He is really afraid that you could be fooled and deceived and then suffer from it. 

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Despite the fact that he looks so overconfident and seems to be quite a passionate lover, his kisses are very gentle and soft. He starts with a light touch to your lips, usually smiling, waiting for you to reciprocate. Boromir mostly never kisses you passionately, but will gladly respond if you initiate. Also he likes to kiss your hands - holds them, caresses your soft skin, kisses every finger with all the love he can express.   

L = Love language (What’s their love language?)

Words of affirmation. Tell him you love him and he'll do everything for you, tell him you love him very much - he'll do even more. Is addicted to praise, especially sincere, and prefere the easiest way to obtain it - words. He knows that he is great and so on, but it feels different when you say it, looking at him with your eyes full of love and adoration. Would die for every such moment. Twice.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He wakes up first but does not wait for you to wake up whenever you want. He would hug you tight and pepper your face with barely perceptible kisses. And will definitely smile when you start grumbling unhappily. 

N = Nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

In some mood you call him something like "My Lord" or "My King" and he always laughs on it, responding with "My Queen" or "My Lady". Once or twice you heard that in front of his friends he calls you "My beloved", but he never confesses.

O = Overture (How did everything start?)

It didn't actually start normally. You knew each other for a very long time, it could even be said you were friends. You felt like you were flirting with each other for some last months. And once Boromir came back from one of his military campaigns, barely alive, saw you and just hugged you very tight. Lately he confessed that couldn't imagine dying without revealing his real feelings towards you.   

P = Pace (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?)

He may hurry at some points, but mostly he will not rush things. He wants everything to go step by step and he wants to fully enjoy every period of your relationship. 

Q = Queen/King (Who takes the initiative in relationships?)

He'd like to be the one who takes the initiative, cause it makes him feel more relevant and active, more responsible. It's not that Boromir forbids you to be active or bring new ideas, but you notice that he is full of joy when there is an opportunity to show you how much he cares.

R = Remembrance (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

Trite, but first sex is something that engraved in his memory. The moment of such intimacy that could never be repeated. It means a world for Boromir being so close, almost one body, with someone he loves that much, understanding that you trust him so deeply to be ready to lie underneath him unarmed and so vulnerable. 

S = Salvage (What issues does this relationship help him to cope with?)

His urgent need to always be the best. Be the best son, best brother, best commander, best lover... Every day you prove to him that he should not be ideal 24/7. That there is no such necessity to carry you in his arms and bring you breakfast in bed every morning. And that sometimes you also want to care for him. 

T = Tiny (How are they around children?)

He really adores children. Of course he wants his own child, and not only one. Having a big loving family is one of Boromir's biggest wishes. He'd already planned everything, including his daughter's future wedding.

U = Ulterior (What’s their secret?)

Sometimes he pretends that he still feels pain after being wounded just for you to care for him a little longer. Of course, every time you discover it you get really mad, but he does it again and again.

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

It takes a lot for him to put off his mask of masculinity and heroism and show that he could be tired, sandy and even weak sometimes. Boromir will hold on for as long as he can, but one day he breaks, crying in your arms, hating himself for this weakness and couldn't help it.  

W = Wound (How do they feel about exposing their scars/injuries?)

He is proud of his scars because it proves that he is a great (even the best) warrior. Despite knowing it makes you sad he likes it when you, sullen and angry,  bandage his fresh wounds. But when you finish his treatment you always leave one light kiss on top of bandages and another one on his forehead, and you can swear that sometimes you hear Boromir murmurs. 

X = Xtra (A random headcanon about your relationship)

He likes braiding your hair. He does it very badly and almost all the braids look messy and poor, but he tries very hard and looks so focused that you can't deny yourself the pleasure of watching it.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn’t with them?)

He can find himself something to do and will definitely not just sit and yearn. He knows that you will be safe, he is just sure. And when you come back he'll smile smugly and hug you, whispering "I knew you could handle it".

Z = Zzz (How are nights spent with them?)

No matter how much he wants to sleep hugging you, sooner or later he ends up in a starfish position (at best). At worst he puts his heavy legs and arms at you, and even crawling to the edge of the bed does not help - Boromir will find you everywhere. Yet he is always warm enough, so it is quite useful in winters.

Thanks for reading! You can find more of my writings right here

#lotr #lord of the rings #lotr x y/n #lotr x reader #lotr x you #boromir #boromir x oc #boromir x you #boromir x y/n #boromir x reader #boromir son of denethor #boromir fluff #boromir headcanons #boromir imagine

[blueberryrock]

For your romantic cliches bingo card (I'm giving you options in case one of these requests doesn't spark your interest): "celebrity/royal meets normal citizen" OR "after-sex breakfast in bed," for Eomer or Boromir (the latter seems especially funny to me since you just know neither of them ever learned how to cook)

A/N AKSHSHSK this is gonna be fun! Imma do Boromir btw cause the only thing i've written for him is when he dies lol. It's not as chaotic as I wanted it to be, but I hope you like it!

I'm leaving this without a title cause i can't think of shit, but feel free to suggest any lol

Rules, Requests, and More! Valentine's Day Challenge!

With a small groan, Y/N's eyes flutter open. A shiver courses through her as her eyes slowly scan the room. Finding it empty, Y/N moves to sit up, finding that her arms feel like bags of sand she lets out a small snort as her hands move to rub her face.

Side eyeing the empty side of the bed, Y/N's gaze moves to the thin strip of light protruding from the bedroom door. Sliding off the bare bed, her knees feel slightly sore from having them bent for so long, but Y/N continues towards the door. The sound of something sizzling and the smell of cooked meat makes her stomach growl as her lips curl into a small smile.

"Are you really trying to cook," she says as she slips past the bedroom door and walks further out into their apartment. Her eyes gleefully landed on the tall and semi naked Boromir to her right, creeping towards him as Y/N knows he didn't hear her, she slides her hands against his torso, grinning as she feels goosebumps under her palms. "I thought I told you to stop cooking naked."

"Not fully naked," he hums as he stirs something in a pan. "This was supposed to be a surprise you know."

"Sorry for ruining it," Y/N mutters into his shoulder. "I was just so surprised to see you cooking and the kitchen still being intact."

The small kisses on his shoulders nearly make him forget about the comment. "Oh haha," he replies, grabbing one of her hands with his as he stirs something in the pan. "The bacon is pre-cooked anyway, it's just the eggs you might want to be wary about."

Replying with a small hum, Y/N's hands slowly move from Boromir's to explore his abdomen. Smirking when she hears him suck in a breath. "Y/N, " Boromir says warningly. "W-why don't you go back to bed and i'll get these on plates?"

With a small pout on her lips, Y/N rakes her nails against his skin as she turns to leave, swiftly heading back for their bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, Y/N grabs the once discarded blankets at the end of the bed and curls into them. Giddiness flutters through her as she tries to listen out for Boromir's footsteps.

Hearing the creak of their door, Y/N slowly stretches out before sitting up. "Oh wow," she says as her eyes land on Boromir who's carrying a tray in his hands. Licking her lips subconsciously, Y/N helps him lay it across her lap. "This all looks delicious," she says, her eyes jumping from the scrambled eggs on toast with a hefty side of bacon and apple slices. "How many tutorials did it take?"

Sliding next to her, Boromir steals a slice of bacon before replying. "Only two," he beams. "They were quite confusing though."

Y/N snorts before popping a bacon slice in her mouth, cringing ever so slightly from its very crunchy texture. "One of them said to use water and the other said milk!"

"For eggs?" Y/N asks in disbelief.

"Yup."

"So which did you do?"

"Neither."

Y/N tries to contain her small giggles, but the amusement creeps onto her face, earning an odd look from Boromir. "What?" He mumbles.

"Nothing love," she says before pecking him on the cheek. "Thank you for the breakfast."

"Anything for you my dear."

#$$nat's drabbles #lotr #boromir x reader #boromir #lord of the rings fic #lord of the rings #boromir x y/n #boromir x you #boromir son of denethor #fics #fotfics #fanfics #fanfic