Tolkien reader inserts/one shots

Healer (Boromir x fem!reader)

(It's my first time writing Boromir, so let me know how I did. Constructive criticism is appreciated!)

Boromir held back a groan. Why were you the only healer there? It wasn't that you were a bad healer or that Boromir didn't like you. It was the fact that his relationship with you was full of teasing and sarcasm. And the cause of his current injury would bring a never-ending sea of jokes from you. It had been this way ever since he'd returned from the war.

Boromir never thought he'd live to see the end of the battle against Sauron, but he had and now he was home in Gondor. When he'd come home, he'd decided to start training the children as well as two hobbits. Those two hobbits were the reason for his current predicament.

"Welcome back, Boromir...again," you greeted with a smirk. Boromir sighed. It was true that he had been in the infirmary more often than not lately but it was worse because you always seemed to be one duty. "Miss Y/N. I'm afraid there's been another small-" You began speaking with him as you prepped your station for him, "Accident." Boromir nodded.

"What happened this time? Another horse trod on your foot? Or did you perhaps walk into an arrow? Or maybe the hobbits broke your ribs?" You giggled at the frown on his face. He could have been mad at you, but there was no point. When it came to you, Boromir gave as good as he got. While he wasn't much for teasing, it was the little quarrels with you that brought Boromir joy. That was just the kind of relationship you had.

"Not this time. I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than that." The smirk finally dropped for your face. "What happened?" you asked. You were uncharacteristically serious now. Boromir brought his hand away from his side and you saw the red. In no time, you were in your healer mindset. You ushered him to a cot and ordered him to remove his doublet.

When he was just in his tunic, you made him lay back on the cot. You lifted up his shirt and frowned. "This little thing is hardly even a cut, Boromir. I see no reason you should be bleeding this much." You leaned closer to examine the injury as Boromir bit back a laugh. His body started shaking and you looked up at him with an arched brow.

"Stop moving so I can see what I'm doing," you scolded. Boromir laughed out loud this time. You stood up and put your hands on your hips, not caring about smearing the blood on your apron. "What is so funny?" Boromir sat up and wiped away some of the blood. He held out his hand to you while he continued to laugh. Sure he was being childish, but it had been a while since he'd messed with you.

You took his hand in yours and brought it close to your face to look at it. You inhaled and froze. "Is that...beetroot juice?!" Boromir was laughing too hard to respond so he simply nodded. "Beetroot juice?! You made me think something was seriously wrong with you, Boromir! Of all the childish antics and pranks you have pulled, this was the worst!" You dropped his hand and smacked his shoulder before storming from the room.

"Y/N! Wait!" Boromir got up and ran after you. You hadn't gone far. You were waiting just outside the door, arms crossed over your chest. You didn't look at him though. Actually, it was as if you were looking through him. "Y/N?" You didn't move. Didn't speak. If he didn't know better, he'd swear you were a statue or catatonic. "Y/N? Are you alright?" Nothing.

For a good ten minutes, Boromir tried to get your attention. It wasn't until King Aragorn sent for him that he moved. He missed the slow smile that spread across your lips as an idea of payback popped in your head. He didn't see you leave your spot and go in search of his brother. In fact, Boromir didn't see you again until later that evening when you entered the dining hall on Faramir's arm. Boromir's brows furrowed and he felt the familiar pull of jealousy.

After supper, Faramir cleared his throat, catching the attention of the others in the room. He gave a sheepish smile as he cleared his throat again. "I would like to announce that Lady Y/N and I have declared our intentions for one another. We are officially betrothed." Boromir's mouth dropped open. Engaged? You were engaged? To Faramir?

The hall erupted in cheers from everyone except Boromir. Boromir muttered a quiet congratulations and walked out of the hall. He fought the urge to kick or hit everything in sight. How could you possibly be marrying Faramir? You'd never given any indication that you had romantic feelings for his brother. Faramir had never mentioned loving you either, even in passing. The very thought made Boromir's blood boil.

The man avoided you for a couple weeks after that. Any time you stepped in the room, he found an excuse to leave. If you tried to talk to him, he ignored you. He could sense you getting frustrated but until he knew how to deal with it, he had no choice. Until the day you decided enough was enough.

Boromir entered his chambers with a sigh and nearly jumped when he saw you perched on the edge of his bed. He swore as you looked up at him. "You've been avoiding me," you said simply. There was no emotion behind your words. You were merely stating a fact. Boromir let his eyes meet yours, his gaze challenging yours. "Yes." You arched a brow. "Why?"

"Why are you marrying my brother?" You stared for a minute before you started laughing. Boromir just gaped at you. You were laughing. Why were you laughing? "I...can't...believe it actually worked." You continued to laugh until Boromir held up a hand. "Wait, what worked?" You wiped your eyes as you stopped laughing.

"I am not marrying Faramir. We only pretended to be betrothed to get back at you for the little beetroot juice trick of yours. I didn't think you'd actually still believe it." Boromir's eyes widened. You weren't engaged. It was all a trick. Boromir felt his face heating up and he felt like a young man again as his temper took over.

"All these years of jests and teasing were all in the name of fun, but I have never known you to be cruel, Y/N." Your brows rose in surprise. "Me? Cruel? What about you? You made me believe you were seriously injured that maybe you could have died. How was that not cruel?! Did you stop to think how much it would hurt me? How badly I would feel if I lost you?!"

"And didn't you think I would feel the same if you married Faramir?! Don't you know how much I value what we have? What if it were I who lost you?" his voice grew softer as he spoke and the tension in the room died down. It was the closest either of you had ever come to admitting your true feelings. Something neither of you were comfortable doing.

You cleared your throat and looked away from him. "Sadly, you are stuck with me." Boromir chuckled softly. "And you're stuck with me." Boromir sat down next to you and promptly jumped up, letting out a string of curses. You looked down and saw your small pincushion sitting there. In your emotional state, you'd forgotten you had been sewing up your apron while you were waiting for Boromir. The thing even blended into to Boromir's blankets.

Still, as Boromir rubbed the now sore and possibly bleeding spot on his bottom, you couldn't help but laugh. "I guess that's what you would call a pain in the arse." Boromir glared, clearly unamused by your pun. You stood up and grabbed your things. "Come along. We will get you to the infirmary and I'll take a look at it."

Boromir smirked and asked, "Going to kiss it and makeit better?" You rolled your eyes with a smile. "Not even in yourdreams." Boromir walked side-by-side with you down to the infirmary. Hekept looking at you from the corner of his eye and smiling. He knew that, eventhough neither of you voiced it, you felt the same way about each other. Heknew that one day, you'd both break down the line between love and friendship.But for now he was happy with the way things were.