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hottpinkpenguin · 1 year

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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

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 6 months

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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

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did-you-know-you-have-rights · 1 year

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The fact that there’s not a single Alec Trevelyan x Reader fic either here or on Ao3 is fucking astounding.

#alec trevelyan x reader #alec trevelyan #james bond #goldeneye #pierce brosnan #007 #sean bean

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wispystar · 1 month

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☁︎·̩͙✧

aaron hotchner . ii

✦ = finished | ✧ = not finished

Feel free to recommend me some more fics! If there is any author that doesn’t want their work on here pls let me know and I’ll remove it. Series are at the bottom. Be warned for spoilers. I will not be adding spoiler warnings so tread lightly. please lmk if links arent working

back to <;- aaron hotchner . i

—-

Almost Perfect Secret by @thisismynerdyself

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: aaron & y/n are secretly dating and jack is the one that spills the beans

And I Will Care For You by @quillvine

genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: hotch caring for you after a hard case

blackmail by @ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: like imagine sitting next to hotch on the plane ride home from a v/ tiring case and falling asleep on his shoulder or something really sweet and everyone sees it but hotch just covers her up and stuff and then like it’s super cute and soft

Believe . ii by @smile-hotch

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: just a cute blurb about you and hotch.

Comfort by @ssahoodrathotchner

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: on the plane back from Alaska, you and Penelope tease Aaron and Derek

cheater by @/ddejavvu

genre: slight angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: wait your new hotch blurb got me thinking what about they got secretly married and everyone knows that hotch is married they just don’t know it’s to bau!reader because he seemed very genuine in the wanting privacy so (after complaining) they respected that, and maybe one of the team members sees hotch and bau!reader kissing in the hallway of a hotel or something and confront him about cheating on his wife

Catching His Attention by @imaginethebau

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: aaron and reader have been dancing around each other for awhile, reader is getting sick of it and hopes that sean hotchner will be the one to help get aarons attention.

comfort of home by @/ssahotchnerr

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader established relationship | summary: aaron is on a case where there were children involved, and he comes home and the first thing he does is go to your kids and just hold them while they’re sleeping and then you ask if he’s okay and he just breaks down and you hold him while he cries

Dizziness by @benedictscanvas

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: “i’ll drive you to the hospital”

Dinner for Three by @happiest-hotch

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: Going to the BAU with the intention of dragging your boyfriend away from working all night proves to be a good decision when you meet a team member of his who needs some cheering up based on the ending scene of 11x09 with an Aaron Hotchner x reader component

Enough For You . ii by @cconstant-ccraving

genre: angst, slight fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Hotch doesn’t like the new agent, Y/n. Much like he treated Prentiss when she first joined the BAU, he is distrustful of her. He’s harsh and a drill sergeant, even going as far as to belittle her theories in a group briefing. That is, until she takes a bullet for him.

haunted . ii by @bau-drabbles

genre: angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: emily, one of your close friends in the bau, comes back and after months of crying over her death you're not sure how to feel. it hurts the most when the deception also comes from aaron, the man you've loved for so long

hitched by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Wait Omg the thought of bau!reader and Aaron being secretly married but reader forgetting to take their ring off??

Happy Little Accident by @uncpanda

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, pregnant reader | summary: after a night with her boss reader finds out shes pregnant. There is no way to tell him as he is overseas.

I Promise to Never Let You Go by @hotch-stufff

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Yours and Aaron's wedding depicted throughout flashbacks from your relationship

"let me do this for you, please." by @spacedikut

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: it’s left to you to help aaron with his injury.

like dad does by @/ssahotchnerr

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: where jack starts trying to take care of the reader the way he sees his dad does

Jacket by @/ssahoodrathotchner

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: Aaron loans you his jacket and there’s no way he’s getting it back.

Midnight Rain by @honeypiehotchner

genre: angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: You were a new agent at the BAU when you started dating Hotch, but your position was temporary. So was your time with him.

morning voice by @readerstories

genre: fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

mystery girl by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: the bau sneaks into spencers apartment and they find a girl in his bed

mistaken by @/hotch-stufff

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader, parent reader | summary: you thought aaron also had feelings for you but you were mistaken

mine @/luveline

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: aaron hotchner is protective of his agents. | tw/warnings: slimy man

made just for you by @mickisnotclever

genre: fluff, angst, no reader | summary: hotchs longing to belong | tw/warnings: mentions of abuse, hotchs childhood

No words needed by @ssahotchnerr

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: f you're someone who constantly needs to be playing with something (hair elastic, jewelry, etc) but you have none available, he would let you play with his fingers.

Never gonna let you go. by @hoe4hotchner

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: aaron feels guilty over always being away and is worried that you're gonna leave him

Not So Bad by @honeybrowne

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, established relationship | summary: you are having what feels like one of the most inconvenient days of your life, but Aaron is there to remind you that it’s not so bad.

(Not) enough by @allysunny

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: You overhear a phone call between Aaron and one of his coworkers, and it makes you second-guess your entire relationship with him.

Need You Here by @/ssahoodrathotchner

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: You have a close call with an explosion

Pictures of You by @/ssahoodrathotchner

genre: fluff, slight angst, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: you lose your memories of the last few years, including the ones of your relationship with Aaron. The rest of the team thinks it’s hilarious. | notes: this is like my fav hotch fic ever

personalized by @/ssahotchnerr

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: Mom!friend reader bringing everyone cute lunches at the bau with personalized little notes for each person 😭 maybe hotch doesn’t even know that you do this for the others too so when someone mentions readers cooking, he’s like “wat”

Selfish by @velvetcloxds

genre: fluff, fem reader, established relationship | summary: sleepy talk with aaron.

shy by @/ddejavvu

genre: fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: Can‘t stop thinking about the usually so confident hotch getting yk kinda shy and clumsy all of a sudden, everyones just so confused as to why he‘s getting a bit quieter or redder in the face with seemingly no reason

soft spot by @ptersparkers

genre: fluff, slight angst, gn reader, bau reader | summary: hiii can you write something w Aaron where maybe he has a soft spot for Reader?

spontaneous phenomenon by @luveline

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Hotch touches your face much more than a boss should. Or, 5 times you have a nosebleed +1 time Hotch does.

stolen locket, golden locket by @benedictscanvas

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: your husband wears a locket, but you only find out as it’s crushed under the boot of a man you wished you’d never met

till death do us part by @ssahotchhner

genre: angst, fuff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: reader and hotch breaking up, but the reader doesn’t know the real reason the relationship ended.

There is a Light That Never Goes Out by @/ssahoodrathotchner

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader, established relationship | summary: you get kidnapped by an unsub and needless to say, it’s not fun | tw/warnings: swearing, blood, injuries, stabbing, panic attacks, kidnapping, hospitals

underserving by @honeybrowne

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, established relationship | summary: after forgetting your anniversary, aaron is consumed with guilt and can’t help but feel like he doesn’t deserve you or the gift you gave him. you prove to him that he does.

unprofessional by @kryptonitejelly

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: hotch learns how much he really does need your little touches throughout the day.

Up in the Air by @ladylibby

genre: slight angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: Ever since joining the BAU, you’ve had the sense that Hotch doesn’t trust you. But one night, after a tough case, you accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder. After that, things start to change between you and the surly SSA…

worried by @winterscaptain

genre: angst, fluff, gn reader, bau reader | summary: anyway we could get a worried!hotch blurb when you’re in the hospital after getting injured? i’m a sucker for anything fluffy with hotch

when we are together by @wildflowerluver

genre: fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: 5 times jack pushes you and aaron together and the one time it works

you'll always know my by @the-modernmary

genre: slight angst, fluff, fem reader | summary: “I would have stayed… If you asked me to." After your high school graduation, you left without saying goodbye to Aaron Hotchner, your best friend, and nobody had heard from you since. Years later, you’re back in DC, and catching up with Aaron brings more than you could have possibly hoped for.

—-

✦ A Truth Universally Acknowledged by @moon-light-jukebox

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: “It doesn’t matter that he hates me, it doesn’t matter…I just wish I knew why.” Reader is a member of the BAU that is liked by everyone…except her unit chief, Aaron Hotchner.

✧ As it seems by @/ladylibby

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: The BAU is accustomed to change – different cases every day, agents coming and going, roles changing – so the addition of a new member, an Administrative Liaison, should be no different. But the moment you arrive, everything changes for the better (Hotch just doesn’t realize it at first)… | notes: some chapters contain smut

✧ Anchored by @confused-pyramid

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader| summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons. | tw/warnings: canon!typical violence (including SA, guns, child abuse, etc.), swearing, slow burn, eventual smut, more specific warnings included in each chapter

✦ Breaking Up Slowly by @hotchs-bitch

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: You and Aaron have very different ideas of a perfect future together. Is there any way you can both be happy?

Life Changes by @wilbur-rabbit

genre: fluff, angst, fem reader, bau reader | summary: This is a series of one shots about your time in the BAU and your eventual relationship with Aaron Hotchner. | notes: this can be read as a series or as one shots

✧ Meant to be . ii . iii . iv by @agent-whiskeys-sweetheart

genre: angst, fluff, fem reader, bau reader | summary: You are studying to be an FBI profiler with a little over a year left before graduation. When the BAU team shows up in your town for a case you jump at the chance to shadow them for a day. However, things quickly take a turn when you meet Aaron Hotchner, your future boss. And the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met. | notes: most likely discontinued

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#♡ — fics #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds angst #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch angst #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotch imagine

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arthurthethird · 1 year

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Hello, hope your having a good day/night?

I dont know if your still taking requests but if you are could I request HH Arthur Morgan x LH Male S/O

A/N: I'm sick, so I might write more fanfics now. Hopefully you'll enjoy <3 I'm sorry if it's not what you had in mind!

HH Arthur Morgan x LH Male Reader

"Crazy bastard"

You were sitting by the fire late at night, drowning your sorrows in some whiskey. It was the usual time where dark thoughts came over you. You were a bad man. A horrible one. You lived a bad life. Not by choice... You had to adapt to the life you were thrown into.

Taken in by a strange couple and their unruly son when you were just a kid. Saved from getting shop by an angry shop lifter. What an interesting day.

"Hand them over boy..." The man growled at you. You hugged the two cans of beans closer to you, glaring at him. You were desperate, starving. You didn't know how to use a gun, how to hunt, so you had to steal. This time however, you got unlucky.

"Piss off" you hissed at him. The man looked furious, pulling a gun out, pointing at you. You froze, feeling like a caged animal. Nowhere to go, getting killed over some food... Not exactly how you wanted to die. Your pa would be disappointed.

No, he'd be disappointed if you gave up. You won't. You held the cans tighter, only raising one hand slowly. The man watched you, hoping you'll pass the cans over to him, and instead was greeted with a middle finger. You gave him a grin.

"I am not dying yet partner" you pushed down the fear, getting ready for a bullet. If you're going to die, then at least with some honor.

There was a gunshot.

But the bullet never came. Instead, the man fell on his knees, wide eye, blood slowly leaving his mouth. He fell on the ground, face first. You looked at him confused before noticing a hole in the back of his head. There was a quiet chuckle behind him.

"Nice work Arthur" said a black haired man, you soon-to-be leader, walking over the man, approaching you. "Now who do we have here?"

From that day on you joined Dutch's boys, becoming their second son. You grew close with Arthur, akward conversation turning into late night talks. But, it wasn't a family you hoped for.

You killed many people. Men, women, children sometimes too. Robbed people, both wealthy and poor. Became an errand boy, especially when Herr Strauss joined, having to go around collecting debts. Beating the crying people who begged for mercy.

You were there when the Backwater mess happened. When John got brought back from being torn apart by wolves. When they brought the woman, Mrs. Adler and the "not O'Driscoll" in. When they brought Sean back home.

And now you were stuck near Rhodes, staring at the fire, thinking how your life would look if you'd try to be a good man. If you tried to behave. If you didn't stole those damn beans.

You got up, sighing heavily, feeling the alcohol go into your blood. You headed over to your tent, passing Dutch. You could've stayed quiet, but something pushed you to open your mouth.

"There he is... When are we going to Tahiti, boss?" You scoffed at him, only to get a confused look. You narrowed your eyes "we both know you plan is bullshit, so how about you tell everyone the truth that we're fucked?" You growled. Dutch, now turning irritated turned to you.

"Cut it out, son. I get you're stressed, but we don't need that right now."

"oh I ain't stressed... I'm just seeing clearly" you grinned, but got yanked away to the side. You blinked confused and turned to yell at whoever grabbed you, until you realized it was your beloved Arthur Morgan.

"What are you doing Y/N?" He frowned and looked at Dutch with a sigh "he's been drinking again.... Don't mind him. You'll work it out, you always do" he nodded to him, pulling you away. You rolled your eyes, pushing him away, yet going in the same direction he was pulling you to - his tent.

"Why do you have to lick everyone's ass?" You muttered, walking in. Arthur frowned, following you.

"We're in a tough situation, no need to steer up more commotion" he walked closer to you. You turned to him, glaring at him.

"Of course, because you're the high and mighty Arthur 'Perfect Son' Morgan, aren't you?!"

He looked at you surprised. To be honest, you yourself wasn't quite sure where that came from.

You loved him. He was the love of your life, you'd never hurt him. But you were jealous. Jealous about how he was better than you. How he was nice to everyone, how they all adored him. How he got smiles and pats on the back while you got scowls and scoffs. You were a bad man, you knew that. But you wanted to be adored. To be known.

Yet being nice seemed to be pathetic.

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, placing his hand on your cheek. You let out a quier sigh, turning your head away. He was looking at you a bit, then cupped your face, turning to him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing" you pushed his hands away "go be adored. Go find someone who won't ruin your reputation. Go suck everyone's dick so they love you"

"The hell are you talking about?" He laughed, but stopped, noticing you were serious. He frowned, taking your jaw, turning your head to face him.

"I am not leaving you."

"I'm not good for you, Arthur!" You glare at him. "I'm a monster! A good for nothing killer, I don't deserve you, I'm not good for you!"

"Horseshit" the man rolled his eyes. "You're perfect for me"

"I'm not! Maybe you're perfect, but I-" you couldn't even finish because Arthur captured your lips in a soft kiss. You wanted to push him off, but sighed, melting into it. He snickered quietly to which he earned a hit (more of a tap) on the chest. He slowly broke the kiss, looking you in the eyes.

"That's not true" he smiled. "You're everything I could ask for"

You were staring at him quietly, before burying your face in his chest.

"... You smell like cigarettes" you changed the subject. You always did when you got embarrassed or didn't want to face the truth. He sighed softly, petting your head.

You stayed like this for a bit, before you could hear his voice again, jumping a bit as you didn't expect it.

"Hey Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Have you had the dark thoughts again?" He placed his head on top of yours, petting you softly. You blinked.

".... Maybe a bit"

"You know what it means~" he hummed, one of his hands sliding down, grabbing your ass. You tensed up surprised before chuckling quietly.

"Crazy bastard...."

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #red dead redemption #arthur morgan #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x male reader #male reader #m reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader #x male reader #x m reader

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kenzumekodma · 2 years

Text

18+, minors & ageless blogs dni

pairing: izuku midoriya x fem!reader

wc: 4153

warnings: praise kink, pet names (bunny, princess), fae!deku, fantasy au, oral (f recieving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, implied pervy deku, it’s rly soft and that should be a warning in itself, no beta we die like sean bean in fantasy media

a/n: happy birthday to me! this is v v v self indulgent and akdjsbd i am not sorry reader is me w no face. also, surprise, am back posting after like 8 and a half months of not having the mental energy for it ayyyyyy. kinda set it up for a second part but lord only knows if i’ll get back in the headspace to write it. as always, if you like this and want to encourage me to write more, reblogs are the way to go!

find my masterlist here!

I wish… I wish I could be anywhere but here!

Eyes still closed, you take a shallow breath in and let the force of your air blow out your candles. Sure, you’re a little too old, you think, to be making a frivolous wish, one that only a child could believe would come true. And you knew it wouldn’t, despite the faint glimmer of hope nestled deeply inside your chest. Wouldn’t it have been better to spend your birthday wish on something more realistic, like hearing back about the job interview you had, or getting a raise like you’ve deserved for so long? If you were going to believe in magic, in tipping fate’s favour in your direction, it should be about something that’s within your control to help along, right? But fate works in mysterious ways.

You open your eyes, and the tiny bit of hope in your heart turns to coals. Nothing around you has changed. Your friends are still sitting around the table, looking at you expectantly to cut your cake. As you search for the knife, you could swear you see a flash of dark green from the corner of your eye.

“You okay?” your friend asks, and you notice your eyebrows are knit in confusion.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s, uh, just those little spots you get when you close your eyes too hard, yknow?” You make a show of blinking and force a smile to your face.

——

By the time you’re home, showered, in bed, and listening to music, you’d nearly forgotten about your wish entirely. It’s not until another voice chimes in with the song playing from your speaker. A velvety voice sings along to the words the owner seems to know, hums along to the others. You enjoy it for a moment, until you realize you’re in your room, and you live alone.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck? Did someone break in here to sing karaoke? At least they’re not off key… but still what the fuck??? Your thoughts cycle through in half a second, eyes still frozen ahead of you. As you move them to blink, though, you notice the same shade of green as before out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you follow me home?” you ask, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach at the thought that the voice might actually respond. Never once have you wished that you’d had an auditory hallucination more in your life. The green blob encroaching on your peripheral vision jumps.

“I-in a way, I guess?” the voice responds. “You can see me?”

“I’m trying not to, obviously,” you say, still frozen looking at the ceiling. A shiver of discomfort runs up your spine, and you know he’s looking at you. “Who are you and why are you here?” you demand, wavering voice giving you away.

“I, uh, I kind of live here?” his tone is as much of a question as it is an answer. “I’m, um, your guardian faerie. Izuku.” he tacks on his name, an afterthought.

“Bull fucking shit, you can’t live here because I live here. And guardian faerie? Get your folk tales right, it’s a guardian angel. Get, get out of my apartment before I call the cops,” you shout quietly, being careful to not alarm your neighbours. Poor choice, you think, but just in case you can resolve it yourself, or in case what this strange man is saying is true.

You finally bring yourself to look at him, rage evident on your face at having been inadvertently spied on. Gossamer wings peek out from behind his wide shoulders, the same verdant shade as his hair and eyes, you notice. The same green you saw flitting at the corner of your vision when you made your wish.

“I kind of live here because I, I keep an eye on you, so to speak? It’s hard to explain.”

“Turn around,” you request, your voice firm. This stranger, this Izuku, does as you ask, and you see dainty slashes cut in the back of his jacket to accommodate the wings sprouting from between his shoulder blades. “If what you’re saying is true, you can show me where you’re from, right?”

“I can’t not show you where I’m from,” he says, fiddling with the hem of his jacket, suddenly very interested in his feet.

“That’s a double negative. You can, then,” you conclude. “Take me there.”

Izuku grimaces, but gets up from his spot at the end of your bed. Energy pricks at your skin, the air’s charged like lightning about to strike. It picks up until the hair on your arms is standing up as the freckled man before you drags the palm of his hand down the panel of your bedroom door. He opens it unceremoniously to show you what at first looks like nothing. The closer you get, though, the more the other side comes into focus. Overlaid with your hallway, you see a forest at dusk, tinged green by the portal between you and Izuku’s home plane.

“If you go through here, I need you to stay quiet, stick by me, and don’t get noticed,” he says. He’s barely finished stating his conditions before you’re walking headfirst into the unknown realm. He jumps after you, sealing the portal back up as quickly as he can.

Your stomach lurches, and you wonder how Izuku manages to go between worlds so effortlessly, but you’re soothed as the prickling energy dies down. It should come with a warning, though. May cause vertigo, not recommended for children under the age of 12 or anyone human at all, Jesus… you think as you blink hard to try to regain your balance. It has the opposite effect though, as you find yourself tumbling into another creature. A blond man with a knowing smile looks down at you.

“S-sorry, new here, first day,” you mumble as you shake your head and duck behind some trees in the way you came. Izuku couldn’t have gone far, right? He came through after you, unless he left you here and took your apartment for himself. But he said to stick by him? At least that’s what you think you heard, you didn’t stay long enough to process what he was saying.

“Aoyama! Good to see you!” Izuku says. Diverting Aoyama’s attention to him should keep him from seeing you, and should also let you know where he is, he thinks. You catch on quickly, and crouch down, low enough to not be seen through the bushes between trees. Seconds creep by like minutes until you spot Izuku’s red shoes like a beacon and tug on his pants to let him know you’re here.

“Midoriya! It’s been so long, have you gotten tired of your mortal girl? You’ve been there quite a while, even took up their style of dress? Tres fashionable, my friend,” Aoyama takes the greeting as an invitation to catch up.

“No, uh, no not yet,” Izuku laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve got some urgent business, catch up later?”

“Of course, of course. I won’t keep you.” Aoyama waves, and you get the feeling that he looks to the grass, exactly where you’re on your hands and knees, holding your breath. But you must be imagining it, right?

“That was fucking close,” Izuku says under his breath. “You didn’t let him see you, right?”

You weigh your options for the briefest of moments, before shaking your head side to side.

“Good. It’s lucky it was a friend, though, it could have been way worse,” he says and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“What is this place?” you ask.

“This,” Izuku gestures broadly to the forest around him as you stand up, faint lights of a city in the trees glistening in the distance. “This is Fae. You’ve heard fairy tales before, right? Well here, they’re history. Everything has to come from somewhere. Somewhere where there’s a kernel of truth to everything.”

“Where there’s a kernel of truth to everything? Oh, so what they say about the fae, in my world, it’s true? You can’t lie?”

“Nope. We have to be very careful with our words.”

“Try telling me you’re a purple octopus,” you challenge.

“I-, I’m-,” he tries to start as you giggle. “Oh, stop it, you know I can’t!” He feels his cheeks heat up, and he’s never felt more glad that you’re warming up to him enough to joke around.

“Do you let all the girls you bring to the forest tease you?” you chuckle.

“I haven’t brought anyone back here before,” he says. There’s been no one but you, he thinks, and it’s on the tip of his tongue, but he knows as much as anyone from his world that you shouldn’t let the whole truth go at once. “I shouldn’t have brought you here, it’s dangerous. You’re not supposed to be here, who knows what’ll happen if they find you.”

“If who finds me?” you ask.

“Let’s hope you don’t find out,” he says gravely.

You roll your eyes and turn to make off towards the glittering lanterns in the distance, but a large, scarred hand catches your wrist and for the second time tonight you’re frozen in place by the strange man claiming to be your guardian faerie.

“I’m not kidding, don’t go off on your own. Stay with me. We’ll go anywhere you want, I promise, but I need you to stay with me.” His skin is warm wrapped around yours, and in such close proximity you notice more about him.

Lightly tanned skin, more freckles than you noticed before, his eyes are like a reflection of the forest itself. It’s as if you’re looking at him in high definition, like every human feature he has is amplified and more beautiful than you could’ve put together in your imagination. He’s tall, too. Tall enough you have to tilt your neck back to look him in the eye from this angle. If you were to look head on, though, you’d see the muscle his jacket hides being hinted at by the t-shirt that’s just tight enough across his chest.

“Okay, fine,” you nod, increasingly aware of how close his face is, if only a fair few inches above yours.

“That’s a good girl,” Izuku says. His eyes immediately go wide, and he hopes you don’t recognize where he got that from. Instead, you look down quickly and go quiet. “I, uh, f-forget I said anything, sorry. Wh-where do you want to go?”

You clear your throat. “I want to see the lights,” you decide.

“We’ll have to stay toward the outskirts, but we can do that. The city’s all done up right now, you know. It’s real pretty.”

—-

It doesn’t feel like long, but maybe time passes differently here, you think. The full moon shines brightly above you and you guess it must be past midnight when you arrive near the city gates. You’ve never seen such a beautiful sight in your life, it’s like something that was plucked straight from your childhood daydreams. From your vantage point in the distance, you see elaborate wooden buildings with thatched roofs with moss creeping up the side walls. A circle of stones stands in what you can only imagine is the town square towards the gate. And in the background, sprawling over the city, letting its leaves seemingly touch the sky as well as its citizens, is the most grand willow tree. Paper lanterns adorn the post beside every door, a peculiar yet familiar series of dots poked into each one, letting the light shine through.

“What are those?” you ask, pointing to the lanterns.

“The stars on them? It’s the constellation Perseus. It’s named after an old, old hero from your world. You know, we share the sky,” Izuku explains. “If you think of it like this, there’s an infinite number of worlds, right? Thin as paper, sandwiched one on top of the other between nothingness and the sky. The void is infinite, and so are we. It has a way of making you feel alone but comforted, doesn’t it?”

“That might just be you,” you say, and you’re not sure whether you mean it’s only him that feels comforted, or it’s only him that’s comforting you. “A-anyway, you said there’s a festival, right? What does that have to do with a hero from my world?”

“Right! Every year around this time, there’s falling stars. I, I think you call them a meteor shower? Which sounds like stars taking a bath, but that doesn’t matter. When you watch them, it looks like they’re coming right out of the constellation, so they’re called the Perseids. Did you, uh, want to see them? I know somewhere we won’t run into anyone else,” Izuku offers.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” you smile, and you think to yourself that just maybe your birthday wish is coming true after all. The coal of hope inside your chest fans into an ember as Izuku takes your hand to guide you to a secluded meadow about fifteen minutes away from the city.

“I used to come here as a kid when I wanted away from everything,” he says, letting go of your hand to balance himself. “Watch your step, the trail gets kind of rocky here.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when a rock slips under your foot, tripping you, and sending you flying into Izuku’s back. You tumble the remaining twenty feet or so, landing in the clearing, and let out a sigh of relief as you feel you’re on solid ground. Hanging your head, you move to get up and find where Izuku ended up.

“This, uh, this isn’t what it looks like, right?” Izuku’s voice comes from underneath you. To your surprise, what you thought was firm ground was muscle.

“I, I uh, it’s not, it’s not!” you exclaim, holding your hands where he can see them. It’s a shame, though, that you don’t quite have your balance, you think, as you fall face first onto his chest.

“You’re not making a good case for yourself, y’know,” he laughs, easing the tension. “If, if you wanted me that badly, you could’ve just said,” he teases.

“I don’t, I swear!” you protest, your ember glowing bigger.

“Are you lying to me, human?” He’s not sure he’s teasing this time. You swallow, your eyes meeting his.

“I, I am.”

With a boost of confidence, Izuku leans up to capture your lips with his own. He’s tender, his soft lips moving gently against yours as you reciprocate the kiss.

“I have to know, though. How long have you been ‘kind of living’ in my apartment?”

Izuku’s face flushes. “It’s been more than a few months. Can, can I explain more later? I’ve wanted to do this since I set eyes on you, I want to treat you properly. Anything you want to know, the answers are yours, I promise. Let me show you what you deserve.”

You nod, and he takes the permission to take your face in his hand. His kiss is more fervent now. A bonfire graces your chest with its presence. It feels like forever and yet not long enough before you break the kiss for a breath. You smile and put your hand over his, turning your head to press a soft kiss to the pads of his fingers. His breath hitches, making you smile wider.

“Y’know, I could get used to you being around,” you murmur to him.

“I want to be around, I want you to see me around,” he whispers back.

Izuku’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close to his chest. He rolls with you, his wings unfurling to cast a peridot haze over you with the moonlight. Kisses trail down your neck, to your chest, as one of Izuku’s hands holds your waist, the other keeping his balance. Through your clothing, he nips at your breast, then your other one.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathes. He lifts the hem of your dress up just enough to pepper gentle kisses on your skin, the light touch making you squirm. “Ticklish, or eager?” he asks.

“Both,” you confess. His fingers toy at the elastic of your panties. “If you’re going to take them off, then take them off,” you tell him.

“Maybe I won’t now,” he smirks. “Maybe you’re going to have to earn that privilege.”

“H-how-?” your question is cut off by Izuku’s wandering hand easing your breast from the confines of your dress and latching his lips around your nipple. The swirl of his tongue and the light scrape of his teeth have you clenching around nothing, and you could swear there are double the stars in the sky above you.

“C-can you do that, but, ah, d-down…” you trail off, embarrassed by the idea of saying what exactly you want out loud.

“Between your legs? Of course, bunny, anything to make you feel good,” Izuku smiles and presses the softest of kisses to your forehead. “You just have to say the magic word.”

“P-please, can you?”

“That’s my girl,” he beams.

His deft fingers work their way under your waistband, taking his time as Izuku slides your panties down your thighs, over one ankle, and then the other before they’re laying forgotten in the grass somewhere. He shuffles himself down as gracefully as one can manage in the dark of night until his head rests on the plushness of your inner thigh.

Your folds glisten silver in the reflection of the moon, the light of it making you look as though you’re glowing from inside. Izuku licks a soft strip from your opening to your clit, relishing the taste of your essence he’s been dying to have for many, many months. And like with a fine meal, once he’s had a taste, there’s no stopping him.

Your whole body shudders as he teases his way around in circles, getting close to your sensitive bud but never quite touching it. A loud whimper is torn from your throat when he finally flicks his tongue up across it. Primal and hungry, it’s purely human, and music to his ears. He darts his tongue into you to give you a brief respite before latching around your clit, alternating between suckling light pressure and giving you broad strokes with his tongue flattened.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, please, ‘Zuku!” you cry out, and he knows you’re a hair’s breadth away from the edge. He pulls back, forcing your body to calm back down.

“Wh-what’d you do that for?” you can’t stop the pout on your face from forming.

“Trust me, okay? It’s gonna feel even better around my cock. Wanna make you feel so good, bunny. Doesn’t my pretty girl wanna feel good?”

You nod, hellbent on being good for him, and he smiles, the wetness of your arousal glistening around his mouth. Izuku leans down and kisses you once more, this time you taste yourself on his tongue.

“When you feel like you’re ready, let me know, okay? I have to prep you a little first, I don’t want to hurt you.” He peppers kisses along your cheek, and you look away, but smile and nod. “Getting shy on me?” he chuckles. You start to shake your head, but nod instead. “You’re cute, you know that?”

“‘M ready, is what I am,” you counter. The white hot feeling in your abdomen has subsided, although the fire in your chest is hotter than the core of any star you’ve ever seen.

“You sure?”

“Mhm, I’m ready for you ‘Zuku.”

Izuku presses one last soft peck to your lips before repositioning his face between your legs once more, this time with his fingers circling your entrance, ready to take the plunge.

“It’s going to stretch a little, okay?”

“‘Kay.”

With his tongue flat, he licks your clit with very little pressure, just enough to distract you from the intrusion of one of his fingers. The stretch isn’t as bad as you’d expected, and he finds your little bundle of nerves without any issue. When he adds a second finger, though, you inhale sharply.

“Look at me, princess. You’re doing so well for me, so well. Taking my fingers so well. So good, princess,” he says between kisses to your mound. You mewl at the praise, you’d do anything to hear it again.

“‘Nother one, gimme a-another one, please.”

He scissors his two fingers inside you, stretching you until he’s sure you can take a third. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, and slower still he pushes three back inside, being sure to suckle and flick his tongue quickly around your clit to keep you from clenching too tightly around them. You adjust quicker than he expects, something he’s thankful for. His cock is getting too hard to ignore, straining at his pants as it is.

“Ready, bunny?” He waits as patiently as he can for you to nod before he pulls his fingers out. Fumbling with his pants seems to take an eternity to him, and he curses mortal fashion for putting aesthetics over functionality.

“Let me,” you say quietly. You reach out, and with a swift motion you have his pants undone, threatening to fall down his waist.

“Thank you. Such a good girl for me, you are. So helpful,” he showers you in praise.

He takes a moment to memorize every inch of your face, the curve of your hips, the soft texture of your skin underneath him as he lines himself up to sink himself into you. You gasp softly as he slowly pushes his tip past your ring of muscle, and you’re so glad you let him stretch you for as long as he did. He feels big, big enough you’d have tapped out if he hadn’t.

You feel a vein slide against your velvet walls in the most delicious way, and you clench around his thick girth.

“‘M not even in all the way, bunny,” he breathes out a chuckle. Forever and a day seems to pass by before he’s sunk himself into you to the hilt. “Say the word an’ I’ll start moving,” he says, dizzy already from how tight and sweet you are.

“P-please, ‘Zuku,” you beg, “feel like I’m gonna explode if you don’t move,” you whimper. Izuku has never been one to deny you anything. Any little push of fate, anything he can help you and get away with, he has. Hell, his intervention is the long ago catalyst to your tryst, but he’ll tell you about it later, he thinks. Until then, all he wants to think about is how right it feels to have your legs wrapped around him, to have you to himself so intimately.

His thrusts are slow and deep, and when you close your eyes, you see shooting stars more clearly than you can with the meteor shower going on above you. You rock your hips into his, desperately pushing your lips to his neck, kissing every free inch of skin you can get your lips on.

“Close?” asks Izuku.

“Y-yeah, ‘m t-too close,” you whimper. He ensnares you in a searing kiss.

“Go ahead, princess, cum for me,” he murmurs against your lips. With a whine, you’re gripping him inside and out, like you’ll never let him go. Your eyes squeezed shut as he rips the orgasm from your body. “S-such a good girl, good princess, so good, g-good,” Izuku babbles as he tumbles off the edge, releasing thick ropes of sticky white inside you. His damp curls stick to his forehead as he rests his head against yours. You settle your hand in his hair and pull his head down just a little bit further to press a kiss to his lips.

“L-look, there’s so many of them,” you say, looking just behind his head to the night sky. If you didn’t know better, you’d say dozens of stars were falling from the sky just for the two of you. Izuku leans on his forearm, letting himself fall to the side and pulling you in close to him.

“You’re like my own little star who’s come to the ground,” he says quietly, kissing your temple.

“Is, is this all because of my wish earlier? Do you think?” you ask.

“I can’t be sure, but I think so.”

“Whether it is or not, this is the most I’ve felt alive in as long as I can remember,” you confess. The sun itself can’t rival what was once an ember in your chest threatening to go out. “I hope no matter what plane, I don’t have to be without you again.” Izuku pulls you closer in his arms, admiring you as you look from him to the sky once again.

“I hope so too, bunny. I hope so too.”

taglist: @patchworkpuzzle @jozhenji @hanayanetwork

#deku x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader smut #deku smut #izuku x reader smut #izuku smut #izuku midoriya x reader smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha x reader smut #mha smut #deku x you #izuku x you #izuku midoriya x you #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au

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drebur123 · 1 year

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Promptober Day: 12

Pumpkin Carving | Jacksepticeye X Reader

Prompt: "Pumpkin Carving"

This is pretty much the sequel to "Pumpkin Picking", so you may want to read that one first.

(wc: 681)

~~~~~

" That's how you want to carve your pumpkin?" Sean chuckles pointing at the huge circular eyes with no pupils. "What? You don't like it?" I ask nudging his arm with my elbow. "Yours isn't much better."

I decided to go with round eyes and a smile, and Sean did a friendly looking ghost to go with the color of the pumpkin. "True," he replies, handing me the knife. "Your turn to cut it out."

He did his while I was still designing mine. I take it from Sean and plunge it in the top of the gourd. Sean and I decided to carve them at my house. "Can you promise me that Anti won't pop up? Everyone who's carved a pumpkin on your channel meets Anti." I speak.

"I'll try my best to make sure that doesn't happen." Sean places an assuring hand on my shoulder as I pop the top off the pumpkin off. The first eye came out without fighting me. Which is nice. I've never been very good with a knife.

"Do you have a candle?" Sean asks. "Yeah. I think I put the package on the top shelf in my bedroom. You can go get it if you want." He nods, disappearing into my house. I hum a little tune underneath my breath as I work on the second eye.

This one's giving me trouble. There's a bruise in the path of the knife, making it difficult to cut. After fighting with it for a bit I skip that and move onto the lima bean shaped mouth. Sean returns with the package of apple pie scented tealights I bought yesterday.

"Found them," he says throwing them on the table. It surprisingly didn't mess me up. We're working on one of those white plastic "Lifetime" tables. You know, the one's you find at every garage sale.

"Cool," I respond, popping out the mouth. "Sean?" He turns his attention to me. "Can you help me? I can't seem to get this to come out." He takes the blade from my hands and gets to work.

"There," he says just as the second circle falls out.

Sean and I finish up the video, turning off the camera. Between the two of us the mess is quickly cleaned up, leaving only the pumpkins on the table.

"Let's go inside," I say. "It's cold." Sean nods, following close behind as we make our way into the house. The sun is still trying to set, so we decide to wait to take some pictures in the dark. "Are you going to stay over?" I ask, sitting on the couch.

"Probably not. I think I'll head home to go to bed," Sean replies, sitting next to me. "Ok. What do you want to do while we wait?" Sean shrugs. "We could watch a movie," he suggests. "Which one?"

We ended up watching his favorite movie. It wasn't too bad. About thirty minutes in, we got the pictures for Instagram and returned to our spots right next to each other on the couch. Sean's head lightly rests on shoulder, mine on top of his.

The ending credits start rolling down the screen, signifying the movie's over. I lift my head quickly noting that the Irishman isn't doing the same. "Jack," I whisper, muting the tv. He doesn't respond. I assume he's asleep.

Pondering waking him up, I finally decide upon just let him stay here. After turning the tv all way off, I adjust our position, making more comfortable for the both of us.

I rest my head on the top corner of the back cushion with Sean leaning on me more than before. He's warm compared to the air circulating throughout the house as of right now. I may have forgot to turn on the heater.

My eyelids slowly start to get heavier by the moment. I glance over at Sean —who's sleeping surprisingly peacefully— before drifting off myself.

Not proofread, sorry.

#jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #sean mcloughlin x reader #jackspeticeye x reader #reader insert #promptober #mcyt #x reader #one shot

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hunterscoffee · 4 years

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I'm going to bed.

I'm reading fanfiction...

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streets-in-paradise · 15 days

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A Man of Honor - Odysseus x Trojan Princess!Reader

Troy 2004 Oneshot

Requested by @alysinwonderland-at-tea

"Ok ok ok, so..... here's the idea.

Odysseus, with the younger sister of Paris and Hector, like she gets captured because she bought Briesis time to run. She fought off some of the men but couldn't get all of them. Anyway, quite like the movie scene, Agammenon "gives" her to the men to "play with" (throws her to the wolves). But instead of Achilles rescuing her, it's Odysseus. He suggests that hurting her would not be in their best interest because she is the princess of Troy, and if they harm her its gonna be really bad for them. Anyway, the reader falls for him because he's so honorable. Idk man, he seems honorable, and men with honor got me"

Sure, dear!! My twist on the concept is a bit fluffier, but hope you will enjoy it anyways.

Warnings: Kidnap, Agamemnon and Menelaus being creeps, threats and an attempt of sexual assault ( stopped by Odysseus), age gap.

Note: For this i'm pretending he is single, simply because i don't picture Odysseus as a cheater.

Tags: @yerevasunclair

The gathering of the kings celebrating the first greek victory of the war finished abruptly because Agamemnon of Mycenae, supreme commander of the forces, wanted to scold his rebel soldier. Used to act as intermediate between them, Odysseus of Ithaca intended to follow the matter closely. He was the last one leaving the tent, trying to prepare Achilles for the meeting hoping he wouldn't loose his temper again. Sensically suspicious of the situation, he waited outside pretending he cared to talk with the guards of the mycenaean king.

A good amount of them were watching over a girl, likely a spoil from the looting of the temple. Two aspects of that scene got the sharp observational skills of the ithacan king on alert. The first one, knowing that the myrmidon leader would never handle a prisoner of war to a man he often adressed as an old pig. Second, that the escort was too great to watch over her. There were way to many men gathered arround her.

" Don't you all have orders to follow?" He mocked them in a friendly tone. " Just two of you would be enough, she is clearly going nowhere. "

The cleverly delivered callout brought a half smile from her, and in a closer look Odysseus noticed that her eyes were more vivacious than normal for a captive.

There was still fire in her glance, a sign of life.

" The myrmidons warned us to watch out, they say she fought bravely for her freedoom. " One of the mycenaeans informed him. " We brought her for the King, she is the treasure he has choosen."

No flicker of fear in her face as she was hearing her fate, what made Odysseus wonder if she was too brave or completely unaware of the dangers coming at her.

" Two were actually left in charge, the rest are just watching." She commented him. " They won't stop talking about how pretty they find me."

He felt as if he was being invited to share an opinion on the matter, probably being tested by her because she wanted to know if he would hurt her.

" A young slave as beautifull as you must worth more than everything I keep in my tent." He joked in return. " Even if Troy would be sacked tomorrow, like Agamemnon hopes, none of this men would affort to have one like you. They know it, so consider their vulgar admiration a reflection of their powerlessness. "

It wasn't enough to work as comfort, but she didn't mind.

" I don't mind, as long as they won't touch me."

Her pridefullness was out of place, as if she tried to prove she was still weilding some sort of authority she may have had in the past.

" Sadly, I think that's the first thing Agamemnon would want to do." Odysseus informed her, trying to do what he considered was waking her up to the new reality. " ... You were lucky of not being exhibited in front of all the other leaders in the celebration, he likes to brag about his prizes."

The latter comment seemed to have offended her, she even dared to give a few temptative steps in his direction to verbally fight back.

" I'm not a prize, I'm a hostage. " She quickly corrected. " And I'm ready to bargain the terms of my liberation."

The mycenaeans laughed, but Odysseus could tell she was being serious because the fire of her eyes could have burned him alive. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep interrogating her because the men in charge were called to bring her inside.

He watched her following them calmly and couldn't help smiling. Partially, because he wished he could ease such horrible moment for her, but also given how impressed he remained of her attitude. As if she already knew that Agamemnon wanted to see her humilliated, she quickly put together what was left of her honor and dignity walking inside with the grace of a royal.

It was in that moment when the clever king of Ithaca discovered that you, new treasure of the mycenaean king, could be hidding something of importance. After Achilles stormed out of the place he was too angry to acceed any questioning, so his curiosity had to wait a little longer.

During that first encounter you couldn't tell exactly who he was, but you knew he had some sort of authority over men due to how they listened to him. However, his way with words was astonishingly pragmatical. To them, he sounded like a friend making healthy advices before a greater power figure could reprimand them and, to you, like a fair ruler. Never taunting your anger like Achilles did, or threatening you like you later discovered was custom of Agamemnon.

Nightfall was the dealbreaker of your fate, signaled time for the accomplishment of the dark promises he made to you. After having dinner, he would make you give him a bath to later have his way with you. Playing wise with your only advantage to save yourself, you waited untill then to start the negociations.

The king's table had guests, more commanders that you didn't know. When his brother heard that you were the only daughter of King Priam, everything seemed lost. A third leader arrived to hear the very stubborn brothers discuss what would be the most efficient way to make you suffer instead of accepting your more wise proposal of a bargain with your family.

Awareness of his coming silenced their wicked planning, like if they suspected he would have a say against that.

" Odysseus! " Agamemnon saluted him. " Welcome, old friend! "

You recognized the kind man and his friendly smile, paying high that short distraction. The King of Sparta tried to grab you from behind and forcefully sit you on his lap. Reflexes reacted fast and you fought him, but in the scape you accidentally stumbled with the newcomer.

He catched you gently, holding your shoulders so you won't fall.

" Forgive me, ... Odysseus." You inmediately responded, your voice turning slightly sweeter with the pronunciation of his name, then moved away after finding balance. " ... Please, take a seat. I'll get you some roasted meat from King Agamemnon's feast."

He smiled in polite agreement, but the calm enviroment didn't last long.

" GET BACK HERE, TROJAN WHORE!" Menelaus complained, angry because you didn't behaved with the docility he expected. " YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOUR BROTHER DID TO ME! "

You refused to move and swallowed hard, then replied.

" Your wife's choices aren't of my concern, but become more understandable to me with the display of your brutal manners."

Your refined insults amused Agamemnon, who thought that your flamboyant manners were hilarious.

" ... A trojan princess. Can you believe our luck? " He commented to the freshly arrived king. " My brother wants to go first, reparations for his honor. "

Odysseus was frankly horrified by the scene, there was no honor in the sort of justice that Menelaus seeked.

" It's a terrible idea. If you hurt her, this girl could become a symbol even more powerfull than Helen. "

" I told them, but they won't listen. " You interrupted him. " King Menelaus doesn't understand the concept of bargain, perhaps you can explain it to him."

You shouldn't have say that, but the presence of the ithacan made you feel safer as the anger of Menelaus keep growing.

" YOU INSOLENT LITTLE .... "

Odysseus gave him a path on the shoulder right before claiming his sit.

" My friend, calm down! She is just a girl, maybe even young enough to be your daughter. " He minimized your insults for you. " And, unfortunately, she is right. Having her is too riskfull and we can't allow more reckless mistakes. "

You realized he was subtly referencing the fight of Agamemnon and Achilles, what made you stiffle a chuckle in reminder.

" Postpone your vengeance for the right targets. " He concluded, deviating the topic. " You are here to kill Paris, not to take advantage of his little sister. "

The excellently delivered speech was enough to calm him, but not to make him desist.

" Odysseus, you are a good friend, but the use I will give to my brother's slave is not your problem. "

" ... Not yet wed, certainly untouched. " Agamemnon provoked him. " Pretty virgin princess will make for a fine revenge. "

You spat on the ground, a wordless curse, but that only increased the hate of the spartan king.

" I can't wait to taste you ... And tomorrow, I will tell your brother exactly how i had broken you. "

Terrified in the inside, you still won't let him knew it.

" Before you would get to finish bragging the sword of Hector would have already pierced you. " You recalled, as serious as if you would be sentencing him to death. " He wont care about your hurted honor if your sense of justice damages his siblings. He tossed our familiar honor to the sea to save Paris' life once, we are fighting this war because of that. "

Your elocuency was the surprise of the night, the King of Ithaca was very attentive to your words.

" It's true, Paris had no honor proceeding the way he did, but if you force me you give up your right to claim you are the victim here because that's not the justice of an honorable man. " You bravely kept exhorting the spartan king to save yourself. " Your mistreated wife, who not all trojans simpatize with, will win credibility. "

Odysseus began to chuckle, a subtle expression of pride.

" Right again, your highness! " He pointed out. " The ruin of your virtue would unify trojans at the precise moment we are on the edge of loosing Achilles. The Kings should respect you, not even because that would be the action of an honorable man. From the most selfish standpoint, it's still the wisest solution. "

Agamemnon evaluated the advice with disdain. The goal of unifying greeks against a common enemy was an essential part of his plan. Previous attempts of presenting Helen as a victim of kidnap had failed, everyone knew she ran away on her own and the moral approach changed. She was a whore who left her husband, but you were an innocent virgin dragged away from a temple.

A perfect victim, everything in that story highlighted your purity and a direct threat to it could cause a response even more violent than than Paris taking Helen did.

" May you care to suggest us what to do with her then, Odysseus? " He sarcastically critiziced. " Giving her to you, perhaps? I won't fall for your trickery if what you want is fooling me into gifting you a prize that was too fine for Achilles. "

You hide your face using your hair so he won't see your excited reaction to hearing he could want to take you out from that tent.

" Offer her hospitality, show her that we are not savages. " Odysseus simply proposed. " Menelaus should also work on his impersonation of an honorable man wanting his wife back. We are all here claiming to be victims because of him and the control of this narrative gives our army a moral advantage. If he turns Paris into the savior of a frightened Helen escaping the brutality of her husband, this motivation falls apart. An insulted king who demmands justice can't brag revenge forcing himself on the virgin princess captured while she was innocently praying for the salvation of her homeland."

You directed a triumphal smirk to the youngest of the despicable kings, but Odysseus warned you against that with an impercepible glance.

" Do you play any table games, little one? " He asked you right away, resolving for everyone else. " My favorite way of getting to know someone is learning how they think."

You couldn't believe your ears because the kind offer seemed so out of place.

" Table games? After this two were deliverating on who should hurt me first and what would be more painfull, you offer me to play games with you? " You repeated, in disbelief. " You are a strange man, King of Ithaca, ... but quite lovely. "

To your even greater surprise, he even helped the greek servants on settling you a spot where you could be comfortable. The disgusting brothers gave him freedoom of action because they believed he was up to something, a scheme of the kind he often used to save them many times before. They respected his opinions allowing him to treat you kindly so they wouldn't have to do it themselves. Agamemnon suspected he wanted to make you talk for them, but nothing you were saying was of any importance for him.

The trickster king was deceiving them, making them suspect a deeper reason for his comfort of the unlucky, but beautifull princess. To some extent, he was even deceiving himself pretending he would only do it because winning your trust could be usefull, yet you had awakened enough curiosity for it to be a bit personal.

After a while, it became obvious that you enjoyed the company of the smartest leader arround. He was a smoother, more interesting talker than the pigs surrounding you. If you would have been in front of your father's table instead, he would have easily enraptured all the attention of your relatives as he had gained yours. Odysseus ruled a kingdom of poor sailors, but he had travelled everywhere, and he gave you a good moment sharing some of his stories. During the hours he spent there that night, you were able to escape from your sadness even at the moments he wasn't paying direct attention to you.

If that dinner would have taken place in Troy, Paris would have teased you for staring at him for too long while Hector would have scolded you both and warned that significally older man to stay away from you. That was fun to imagine, but you had to remind yourself that he was still your enemy. Perhaps the most dangerous, for how well spoken and handsome he appeared to you. Harder to hate, specially because you couldn't take your eyes off him.

Before leaving to get rest in his own tent, his farewell to you was a kiss on your knuckes that showed he still respected you as a princess. It made you blush furiously, mostly because you thought that kind of consideration was lost to you arround greeks.

Menelaus noticed your reaction and, as his brother accompanied the king outside, let you know of that.

" Turns out you do like older men." He commented, in a falsely cassual tone. " Is that how your brother got my wife to spread her legs for him, or only his looks did the work?"

Everything he said was always so repulsive, you seriously couldn't imagine how Helen managed to stay by his side for so long.

" You are not bad looking, for a man of your age. Neither is your brother ... You are just horrible people. " Was your honest reply. " Paris has seduced married women everywhere, but all the others stayed with their husbands because they gave them reasons. Fear of death was all Helen had with you, and when she lost it, she left. "

The answer surprised him, perhaps because your explanation of what happened resembled nothing he had ever heard.

" You have a strange wisdown, hard to explain in such young girl. I'm hearing you speak so lightly of things I never cared to see. " He oddly praised you, then sipped more of his wine. " When I was a child, our mother cheated on our father with our uncle. Agamemnon, being the eldest, had more awareness of what was happening. Ask him about what Atreus did to the cheaters and you will find out we are not so horrible. "

" Being less horrible than your father is not the great, comforting excuse you think it is. " You warned him in return. " A good man would have came here peacefully, presented his complaint in the city's council, and maybe ask for a private talk with his wife offering her actual reasons that could make her want to go back home. You are an evil man posing as a victim, and your thirst for vengeance will bring your doom. "

Dark chucking interrumpted you, Agamemnon was back inside.

" Nobody told us the princess of Troy was a seer! " He mocked you. " I have another prophecy for you: tomorrow, I will take over your city and my brother will kill yours. "

" You don't know Hector, or how far he can go to protect his family." You insisted one last time. " Your brother is a fool, he will get himself killed trying to kill Paris. "

" Hector is a man of honor. " Menelaus pointed out. " He will understand that Paris had to die."

You directed him a cold look, as if life would have started to abandon him.

" His honor won't protect you from his rage of brother. "

It was the last time you spoke to him, and the last moment you saw him alive. Exactly as you warned, the king perished by the hand of Hector, who saved Paris while he was begging for his life. You never imagined it would happen so fast, because you weren't prophetizing. Knowing your family so well made you suspect it would be a matter of time untill the rage of Menelaus would be forever stopped by your protective eldest brother.

Still, they weren't there to save you from the rage of brother displayed by the mycenaean king. You were all he had to damage Hector, since even the result of the battle turned against him. The only pain he could inflict on him that night was hurting you, but he decided he wasn't going to be the man doing it.

Odysseus noticed your absense on the tent during the gathering of the war council, at first thinking it was due to the needed secrecy that the discussion of strategy required.

" Where is she? "

The answer Agamemnon had for him overpassed any expected cruelty coming from him.

" I gave her to the men ... They need some amusement after today. "

Careless for the thoughts of anyone else on that meeting, he stormed out searching for you. It was clear that the King of Kings wanted to unleash over you a vengeance even worse than the one Menelaus considered before.

More humilliating than warming the bed of a king was becoming the whore of his troops.

Odysseus was guided by the sound of the complict mocks of the very same men who one day before observed you as some unattainable luxury item. Temporally forgetting their looses, they were cheerfully bragging on how they were about to feast on you.

Despite you presented a good fight, they were too many. Their hands roaming you with desperation and trying to tear your clothes off in the process.

" STOP, YOU FOOLS! " The strong voice of the King of Ithaca interrupted the horrible scene. " YOUR KING HAS SENT YOU TO DO HIS VENGEANCE FOR HIM BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT WHOEVER TOUCHES HER WILL BE A DEAD MAN! "

A few of them reacted, but two were still holding you and Odysseus spoke directly to them.

" Do you even know who this woman is? " He warned them. " She is the Princess of Troy! Do you want to be the next ones Hector will slaughter ? LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO US TODAY JUST TO SAVE HIS COWARD BROTHER! He killed Menelaus, he broke the pact ... Imagine what he would do to you for raping his sister. "

They tossed you to the ground, sudden fear making them act as if they would have just heard a deathly curse had spread among them.

When Odysseus picked you up, you had no more tears left to cry. Or at least you believed so, untill you clinged to him as if your life depended on it.

He took you to his small tent in the little corner of the greek camp he ruled. His own men seemed weirded by the sudden arrival, but followed his orders of not disturbing you.

Your spirits were even more broken than your body, and the safety you temporally found in him made it hard for you to separate. He understood it, and craddled you by the fire while silently hearing your sobbing.

" He is a monster. " You were saying between your crying. " He did this to me in honor of his brother. "

He guessed it, and he cursed himself for not thinking ahead of him.

" Honor? There is no honor in any of this." He commented in a comforting tone, caressing the top of your head. " Don't worry, beautifull. You are safe now."

He inmediately regretted to have adressed you in a way that could be very uncomfortable after what you have gone through, despite he didn't mean it in the same way of your attackers.

" I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have ... "

You raised your face so your eyes would find his for the first time since the arrival.

" It's allright, I know. " You calmed him, tears still flowing. " Crazy, isn't it? When you say it I don't feel the danger. "

Softer by the blow, burning slowly, but the fire in your eyes was still there.

" How does it make you feel? "

Despite the pain, you still had a shy smile for him.

" Good, but strange ... I never felt like that before. "

As if you attempted to thank him with the only thing you judged a man would want from you in that hole of doom, you gave him a rushed peck on the lips.

" Thank you for saving me, you are a man of honor. "

Even hurt as you were, he found you beautiful to the point of cruelty. The brush of your soft lips made him tremble, but he replied with a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead.

" No need for rewards, princess. I did what i had to do. "

Noticing that you were finaly calm, he stood up and peeked out of the tent to command orders from its entrance.

" Eurylochus! Get this woman the means for a proper bath, she will wash herself. Send some men to roam the camp and find her decent clothes. She is our temporary guest now. If Agamemnon has something to say about that, tell him I would rather expose us to an argument with him than face the rage of Hector ... Understood? "

By the time his attention was back at you, he discovered you already self tending your wounds with water from a basin and the nearest cloth you found.

" Resourceful girl ... Mind if I help you out? "

#troy 2004 #troy #odysseus #sean bean #odysseus x reader #sean bean x reader

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fangirlinginspace · 6 years

Text

I'm thinking about writing a Ned Stark/reader oneshot. There are hardly any out there and this amazing man deserves some love.

If you have any requests/prompts/wishes then send them my way

#my stuff #ned stark #eddard stark #ned stark x reader #eddard star x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #sean bean #sean bean x reader

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rose-edith · 2 years

Note

You asking Boromir to teach you sword fighting because you want to help fight but other people won't help you

Hope you like it!

Asking Boromir to teach you how to sword fight would include:

•you had asked everyone else- Gandalf, Legolas, Aragorn, even Gimli, but you were always met with the same answer: NO.

•you didn’t know whether it was your size, your age, your gender or what, but they absolutely refused to teach you how to sword fight!

•and then you watched as Boromir taught the Halfl-lings/Hobbits how to fight and you thought that maybe, just maybe, Boromir would consent to be your Allie and tutor.

•so you approached him one evening as you all gathered around the dying embers of a miserably small fire. He was incredibly surprised but also receptive of your idea, and said yes! He didn’t feel like the others, he saw no reason why you shouldn’t learn how to attack and defend yourself, it was vitally important in his opinion!

•but you both knew that others in the Fellowship wouldn’t be as agreeable to the notion as Boromir had been, so you both agreed to keep your training secret.

•this meant that you and he kept having to find reasons to sneak off together for extended editors of time- you used the excuses of foraging for food, gathering firewood, needing to bathe with an escort.

•the problem is that everytime you appeared back at camp together you were both always tired and out of breath…leaving the Fellowship believing that you were conducting a poorly concealed affair!

•but the reality was that Boromir was training you hard. He had started off as a fair and just, reasonable, teacher. But as you had got the basic nailed down he became far stricter and stopped playing quite so fairly! He was right to do that though, in the heat of battle you’d need to expect the unexpected, so that’s how he trained you.

•he never hurt you, he was always careful to avoid catching you with the blade, and if you ever tripped or fell he always checked you over for bruises. You see, he was your friend before your tutor in those moments where you might’ve lost your balance or he’d tripped you up.

•all in all it didn’t take long for you to become an accomplished sword fighter, able to keep up with and even on occasion take down Boromir!

•and it wasn’t long before your skills were put to the test in the defence of your Fellowship friends!

•they were in awe as they watched you fight off some clumsy orcs while they were tied up. And yet you did it! Once the last beast had fallen you turned and smiled at your friends. They were all shocked apart from Boromir, who was beaming brightly at you!

•from then on your training wasn’t a secret and the others sparred with you too. As for you and Boromir, your close friendship soon started to bloom into something beautiful.

#lotr #lotr imagine #lotr headcanons #lotr x reader #lord of the rings #boromir #boromir x reader #Boromir headcanons #boromir imagine #sean bean #sean bean is a dream

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middleearthpixie · 3 years

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Master List

So... I write things. Sometimes a little, sometimes a lot. If you'd like to be tagged in any of them, let me know!

Also, if you enjoy something, please reblog to your heart's content! Comments are always welcome as well!! <3

You can find my stories here and at AO3.

Fandoms I Write For:

Lord of The Rings - Boromir, Éomer, and Haldir (I've not tackled him yet, but want to. hee hee)

The Hobbit - Thorin, Dwalin, Frerin

And in the near future - The Boys - Billy Butcher

Please read my note on requests before submitting. 😉😀

Multi-Chapter Works

Damaged Goods - Ray Levine x ofc Theo Bailey (Stay Close AU) Complete

The Hobbit

~ Thorin ~

Something in the Night ~ Thorin x ofc Nina Carren (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives) 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 |

Brilliant Disguise ~ Thorin x ofc Sophie Asharm (Post- BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives) | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |

~ Completed Works ~

After the Fire - Thorin x ofc Jasna Stoneham (Post- BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Miss Fortune ~ Modern!Thorin x ofc Alex Prescott -

Playing With Fire ~ Modern!Thorin x ofc Leda Andrews - (Pub AU)

Where I Belong ~ Thorin x ofc Noelle James (modern NYC/DoS/BOTFA AU)

More Than Meets the Eye ~Thorin x ofc Arielle Farran (Post- BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Someone to Watch Over Me ~ Thorin x ofc Seren Gilwynn (The Hobbit, Slight AU)

In Time ~ Thorin x ofc Amara (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

~ Frerin ~

Seven Days ~ Modern!Frerin x ofc Syd Prescott - Complete

Better Days ~ Modern!Frerin x ofc Elena Madison - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |

Lord of the Rings

~ Boromir ~

Promise Me ~ Boromir x ofc Gabriella (LOTR AU Where Everybody Lives) -Complete

Living Proof ~ Boromir x ofc Kaia (LOTR AU Where Everybody Lives) ~ Complete

Letter to You ~ Boromir x ofc Nora (LOTR AU Post-War of the Ring Where Boromir Lives) 1 |

One Shots/Drabbles/Shorts

~Miscellaneous Shorts~

How Will I Know ~ Thorin, Dwalin, Balin, Kili, Fili, (Modern AU) ~ This ties loosely with In Time, and The Cellar & Other Stories.

~ Dwalin ~

(Oldest to Most Recent )

Durin's Garage AU - Good Trouble - Updated 10/25/2022 - This WILL be updated in the near future!

The One Where Zana & Dwalin Spend Their First Yule Together

The One Where Zana Faceplants

The One Where Dwalin is Totally NOT Jealous

Meet the Fundinsons

The Morning After

The Cellar

~ Thorin x Reader Inserts Master List ~

The Getaway -Modern!Thorin x reader

Monday - Modern!Thorin x reader

Durin's Garage AU ~ The Chance You Take - Modern!Thorin x reader

Yule - AU!Thorin x reader

~ Asks Master List ~

A Walk in the Woods - Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

Absolute Beginners ~ Thorin x reader (Post-BOTFA Where Everybody Lives)

In This Moment ~ Thorin x reader (Desolation of Smaug Slight AU)

Blind Date ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU

Stroll ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 2

Dessert ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 3

Lockdown ~ Guy of Gisborne/ John Porter Crossover AU Part 4

Cake ~ Guy of Gisborne/John Porter Crossover AU Part 5

Hot Apple Cider ~ Thorin Oakenshield x Reader (Post-BOTFA AU Where Everybody Lives)

Fireworks ~ John Porter x Reader

The Fountain ~ Lindir x fem!reader

The Escape ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Escape, Part Two ~ Thorin x ofc Carys Greenleaf

The Harp ~ Thorin x fem!reader

Fair Enough ~ Éomer x fem!reader

~ Challenges Master List ~

The Courtyard - Dancing/Dipping Partner

A Kiss in the Rain - Kissing in the Rain

Bed of Roses - Rose Petals in the Bedroom

Showstopper ~ Modern!Bard x ofc Aislinn Dale (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2022)

The River ~ Thorin x Fem!dwarf reader (Gates of Summer Exchange 2022)

A Bit of Home ~ Thorin x Fem!Reader (FotFic Pinup Calendar 2023)

Midsummer Night ~ Frerin x Belladonna Took (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2024)

Long Walk Home ~ Boromir x ofc Eleri (Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2024)

The Woods ~ Boromir x ofc Kaia (Tolkien Pinup Calendar 2024)

Second Time Around ~ Boromir x ofc Brynne (Tolkien Pinup Calendar 2024)

~ Armitage Summer Splash Master List ~

WEEK 1

Make Me ~ Prompt #1 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Bygones ~ Prompt #2 ~ Lucas North

The Note ~ Prompt #3 ~ Ray Levine

The Other Woman ~ Prompt #4 ~ John Porter

In Vino Veritas ~ Prompt #5 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Now or Never ~ Prompt #6 ~ Ray Levine

Misunderstanding ~ Prompt #7 ~ John Thornton

WEEK 2

The Tavern ~ Prompt #8 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Brewster's Place ~ Prompt #9 ~ John Proctor

Runaway ~ Prompt #10 ~ Raymond de Merville

Middle Earth’s Next Top Model ~ Prompt #11 ~ Moodboard

Stolen Moments ~ Prompt #12 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Waiting ~ Prompt #13 ~ John Porter

Hurt ~ Prompt #14 ~ Lucas North

WEEK 3

The Lake ~ Prompt #15 ~ Raymond de Merville

The Visitor ~ Prompt #16 ~ John Proctor

Quiet ~ Prompt #17 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Angel ~ Prompt #18 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Inked ~ Prompt #19 ~ Lucas North

Vampire ~ Prompt #20 ~ Claude Becker Moodboard

Body Swap ~ Prompt #21 ~ Ray Levine Moodboard

WEEK 4

Family ~ Prompt #22 ~ Thorin Oakenshield

Pizza - Prompt #23 ~ Raymond de Merville

Hit & Run ~ Prompt #24 ~ John Proctor

Fifty ~ Prompt #25 ~ Ray Levine

Leap of Faith ~ Prompt #26 ~ Guy of Gisborne

Homecoming ~ Prompt #27 ~ John Porter

Sweet Dreams ~ Prompt #28 ~ Lucas North

WEEK 5

Vacation ~ Prompt #29 ~ John Proctor Moodboard

Magic Kingdom - Prompt #30 ~ Raymond de Merville

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daveedsfeet · 3 years

Text

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seanbeansimp59 · 3 years

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Everything is Good in the World

Okay so approximately seven years ago (give or take), I decided to write a drabble based on an angsty prompt that was something along the lines of "being unable to find someone after a fight." It was so long ago I couldn't even find the exact prompt. However, I finally got it done! I present to you, a Boromir x Reader angst/fluff fic. I hope you enjoy!

Steel clanged against steel, a strangely melodic sound ringing across the open plains. The air was thick and hot, laden with the acrid stench of blood and death. Grunts, roars, and screams filled the unforgiving skies, that, though blue, never carried the promise of a lazy day. Rather, the harsh sun bore down on the suffering soldiers who were locked in battle against a party of Mordor orcs, blades clashing and arrows singing.

Amidst the heat of it all, one man found himself rather at home in the surging ranks. His life was filled with war nearly from the moment he was born. Firstborn son of the Steward of Gondor, he had inherited the war with Mordor as his birthright, destined to fight hopelessly against the unending flow of warriors pouring forth from Mordor’s fiery gates. Still, he found a sort of familiarity in the song of battle; tramping footsteps kept rhythm to the chorus of swords, screams, and archers. It was chaotic and horrible, sure, but to him, it felt almost like home.

He wasn’t alone in this fight, and it comforted him. He had soldiers, generals, and rangers at his command, and of course, who could forget his loving wife?

Yes, while many wives stayed home, tending to the house and caring for the children, his wife fought alongside him on the battlefield, much to the initial distaste of his father. She was a sight to see, her hair flowing wildly as she whirled, a storm of deadly destruction. He didn’t always approve of her presence, frighted for the fate that may befall her at the hands of Mordor’s legions, but it never swayed her. She was altogether terrifying in the most beautiful way, and he was altogether in love with her.

Even though he couldn’t see her now, he knew she had little about which to worry. She was a capable warrior, suited in the finest armor that money could buy. Her sword bit through iron and her accuracy never faltered. Yes, though she was a woman, she was more than capable of fending for herself.

As he drove his blade through the throat of a particularly stubborn orc, he heard a victory cry rise above the cacophony of noise—one of his own men. The cry radiated through the ranks as the last of the orcs withdrew, their screeches cut short by the pursuing soldiers. Joy filled his chest as he echoed the uproar, raising his sword high and beaming to the unforgiving sun.

“For Gondor!”

The men began to rally, gathering in a large group of laughter and smiles, clapping each other on the back and even hugging each other. Many of them came to Boromir, congratulating him on leading Gondor to yet another victory, but though his heart was racing with excitement, one thing was missing.

His wife.

Normally, she was the first to find him after a battle, racing out of the crowd, all glowing smiles and dirty cheeks and tangled hair, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him on the mouth, often tasting slightly of blood. But now, the only hands on his back and shoulders were those of his soldiers. Her slender hands were missing, and he began to worry.

“Fairon.” Boromir grabbed the shoulder of one of his trusted commanders. “Where is she?”

Fairon looked confused for a moment before he realized of whom Boromir spoke. “Your wife?” At Boromir’s enthusiastic nod, he could only shrug. “I haven’t seen her. I’m certain she’s fine, probably just chasing down a lone orc. She’ll be around.”

With that, Fairon turned to another soldier and began to converse with him, leaving Boromir thoroughly discomforted. Fairon had a sharp eye, and if he hadn’t seen her, that was deeply concerning.

“Wiryo,” Boromir called. The dark-haired soldier turned at his name and beamed at the sight of Boromir.

“Ah, captain! Marvelous job! You really taught those mongrels a lesson-”

“Have you seen my wife?” Boromir interrupted. He was beginning to get worried.

“Ah, (y/n)?” Wiryo scratched his chin for a moment before shaking his head. “No, not since about an hour ago.”

Boromir didn’t respond, his feet were already carrying him away from the throng of men. His head was spinning, and he was starting to panic. As he hurried towards his horse, he asked every soldier he encountered, only for them to repeat the same thing—they hadn’t seen her recently.

Body shaking with nervous energy, he got to his steed and began to swing himself up into the saddle. Before he could spur his horse into action, Faramir emerged from the crowd in front of him.

“Brother, where are you going?” Faramir’s face was smudged with dirt and there were twigs in his hair. His group of rangers had intercepted the retreating orc party as the remnants neared the tree line. From the smile on his face, they had been successful.

“I can’t find her.” There had been so many orcs, a few trolls, and no shortage of archers. Anything could have happened to her. She could have been captured, killed, badly wounded, bleeding to death in the dirt as they spoke. “Have you seen her anywhere?”

“Who, (y/n)?”

Boromir was getting angry and increasingly desperate. “Yes, (y/n), who else?”

“Yes, I saw her running toward the trees about fifteen minutes ago. It looked like she was chasing something, though what, I am not certain.”

No reply came from Boromir, only a shout from his throat as he kicked his heels into the sides of his horse and sped away from the group of men towards the tree line.

As he rode, his mind spiraled away. Why had she chased something to the trees? What was she chasing? What if she was being chased? What if an orc tracked her into the woods? Was she wounded? What if she got lost? What if she was wounded badly and having hallucinations? Faramir had told him that she was running, so why hadn’t she used her horse to pursue an orc? What if, what if she were—

No, he couldn’t fall victim to such thoughts. It would only drive him mad to picture his wife’s body, sprawled out in a ditch, blood leaking from her mouth, skin cold and clammy, eyes staring dead up at the sky, her frozen hands clutching her sword in a last valiant moment of agony….

Stop that, he chastised himself. What was that his father always said? Worry is a warrior’s weakness. Anxiety would only serve to keep his mind foggy and unreliable. He had to be sharp.

“(Y/n)!” he called as he rode towards the trees.

The trees almost snickered at him, their branches waving lazily as if to say “No, no we haven’t seen her. Better find her before something else does.”

Boromir’s heart was throbbing in his chest and tears threatened to spill down his dirty cheeks. Why had he let her come with him? Why wasn’t he more firm in keeping her safe at home? What was he thinking? Yes, she was a strong woman, but she was a woman! Perhaps the other men were more intelligent than he in insisting that their wives stayed at home.

“(Y/n)!” he cried again, but the only answer was the galloping of his horse’s hooves and the ragged sound of his own breathing.

He rode on and on, scouring the tree line for some sort of sign, some signal that she had been here. There was nothing—no bent branches, no signs of struggle, no stray drops of blood to show him the way. It was barren and hopeless, and he began to despair.

Finally, just as he was about to ride back and summon his troops to join in the search, he caught sight of a faint glint in the dirt a few meters in front of the forest. Spurring his horse forward, he leapt from his seat and picked it up to inspect it more closely.

It was a silver pendant carved into the shape of the White Tree of Gondor. He had bought it for their fifth wedding anniversary.

“(Y/n).” His voice was barely above a whisper. Slowly, his gaze scanned the trees before him, stretching gnarled branches to him like they were beckoning, almost mocking.

His eyes fell on a patch of brush that looked slightly trampled, barely enough to notice unless he was scanning closely. Leading up to the spot was a pair of boot tracks, her boot tracks.

Tucking the pendant into his pocket and hastily tying his horse to a tree, he plunged into the undergrowth, his heart thudding in his ears.

As he crashed along, he noted there was no blood on any of the leaves or branches, and he began to worry more. What was she chasing that would have left her unharmed? It seemed almost more suspicious than seeing her liver hanging from a branch. What had happened to her?

Up ahead, he heard a strange series of noises, almost like cooing and growling, though not from the same beast. He knew the forest was a hotspot for local lore—tales of witches and wild beasts were common talk among those who leaved nearby. Paranoia sank its ugly claws into his spine as he began to envision tall lanky beasts with mouths like chasms peering from the trees. Drawing his sword, he pressed on towards the sound.

Finally, he tracked it to a large clearing up ahead. He couldn’t see anything just yet, but the sound was a bit clearer now, garbled words and yips that were muddled by the wall of brush in front of him. The little path she’d made had led him here, so with a swing of his sword and a mighty cry, he slashed through the brush and tore into the clearing, glancing wildly about for some source of the sound.

“Boromir?”

He turned towards the sound and relief washed over him in a dizzying wave. There she was, sitting cross-legged on the ground, her long hair a tangled mess and her face smudged with dirt.

“(Y/n)!” he cried, and dropped his sword in the dust, running to her and collapsing next to her, his chest heaving with sudden sobs. He repeated her name over and over as his arms wrapped around her, nearly crushing her in his grip. “(Y/n), I was so worried—”

He was cut off by a rather indignant squeaking sound. Looking at her in confusion, he realized she was practically glowing with excitement, and that there was something hidden in her arms.

“What is that?” he asked, rather nervously. He was starting to wonder if this really was his wife at all, or some unholy specter clothed in her likeness. She had barely spoken, and that squeak was not like any sound she’d ever made. There was something strange amiss, he was certain.

“Boromir, look.” Eyes glittering with joy, she opened her arms to reveal a small, squirming mass of brown fur. “I found him by the tree line and followed him in here. I think his mother was killed by orcs, because he was whining something awful.”

The little bundle rolled over with four chubby legs and stood in her lap, looking with huge amber eyes at this newcomer clad in iron. Boromir could barely believe his eyes—he was looking at a baby Warg, likely just a few months old, if that.

“You….” He was at a loss for words. “You left the battle for this?”

Suddenly, he was furious, and all of the previous terror and nervousness melted before the flames that consumed his every thought.

“You left the battle without telling anyone where you’d gone, for some little Warg pup?” he roared, tears choking his voice as he continued. “I thought you were dead, (y/n). No one knew where you were, where you’d gone, what had happened to you, nothing! There were legions of orcs and so many things that could have gone wrong, and you just vanished! I thought you’d been killed and left to bleed to death in the dirt somewhere! And now, you tell me you ran off without telling anyone for some foolhardy errand to save a Warg pup? I can hardly believe you!”

Silence filled the clearing as he caught his breath, interrupted only by the little gurgling noises of the Warg pup. His mind was racing, and he could barely sort out a single thought at a time. He felt miserable for yelling at her. He was exhausted from the battle. There was a strong portion of relief at seeing her alive and unharmed. It was too much to handle so he just put his head in his hands, defeated.

“Boromir.” Her voice was soft and gentle, as it usually was when he got like this. She’d only screamed back at him a handful of times, and it seemed this was not one of them. “I’m sorry for worrying you so.”

Gentle hands were in his hair, brushing the matted strands from his face. He melted into her touch, exhaustion filling every bone in his aching body.

“If I’d known how badly it would frighten you, I would have informed someone to let you know where I was going. He just looked so lost and afraid—I couldn’t leave him there.”

“I know, love, and I’m sorry for raising my voice. I was just so afraid.” All of the pent-up fear and frustration began to leak from his eyes, and before long he was sobbing. He was exhausted and relieved and frustrated and overjoyed all at once, and he was only vaguely aware of her arms around him and her lips pressing softly against his filthy forehead.

Finally, he took a deep breath and the trembling in his body ceased. He looked up at her through blurry eyes, and in the haze of his vision, he dimly noticed she appeared to be glowing with a soft light.

Her hand came up to cradle his face, rubbing a calloused thumb along his cheek. “Come, love. Let’s go home.”

With that, she stood, graceful as she ever was, and extended her hand to take his, helping him to his feet. As he staggered to his feet, he felt a wave of warmth seep through his body. Everything was calm and good again, and the world felt right for once. His wife was safe and happy, and for just a moment, he forgot about the battle he’d finished fighting. All that mattered was her softly smiling face and the feeling of her hand in his. Everything was good in the world for the moment.

He was snapped from his dreamy haze by a furry bundle tumbling across his feet, squeaking indignantly as it tripped over its own feet. The little Warg pup gurgled up at him, its pug-nosed face looking up at him in a mixture of curiosity and fear.

“Boromir?”

“Yes love?”

“Can we keep him?”

There was a pause.

“Please?”

He glanced down at the matted mess at his feet, gnawing at its hindquarters and falling over itself in the process.

“Of course. Anything for you, love.”

She squealed and grabbed him in a hug, almost crushing his ribcage in the process. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she whispered. “You won’t regret it.”

He chuckled and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. “So long as you’re safe, I won’t regret a single day of my life. I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Boromir, so much.”

And with that, Boromir scooped up the Warg pup and followed his wife out of the hole he’d slashed in the thicket. As they made their way through the tangled wood, his mind buzzed with a pleasant warmth. Yes, Warg pup, Mordor orcs, or anything in between, so long as she was safe, everything was good in the world, of this he was certain.

#sean bean #boromir #boromir x reader #unable to find someone after a fight #angst #fluff #emotions #lord of the rings #pre-lotr #boromir is married #and yes #you are his wife #i'm sorry it took me so long

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