nyromes
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Izzy misses the way he and Blackbeard used to fuck. It's not just him. But after everything that happened between them, Edward is wary of acting like Blackbeard again.
It’s only thanks to Bonnet that Izzy’s currently lying on his back on the table in the captains’ cabin, entirely naked except for his cravat, his heartbeat fast and loud in his ears, and goosebumps rising on his arms and legs despite the sultry heat of the Caribbean air.
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Reclaiming by nyromes
Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
01 Aug 2020
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"I wish to try something," the redhead said, a flicker of nervousness in his eyes.
Fingon frowned but gave him a smile, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind Maedhros' ear and placing a kiss on his jaw. Hot air tickled the side of his face as the older Elf exhaled shakily.
He felt Maedhros' Fëa reach out to his and let himself fall into its embrace without fear for what he might find. He closed his eyes and sank into the gentle warmth and the steady soft light.
A couple of decades after Maedhros’ rescue from the mountain, Fingon visits his cousin in Himring, and Maedhros has a request.
Written as a sequel to my other fic, Recovering, but can be read as a standalone, too.Series
- Part 2 of Reconnecting
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Recovering by nyromes
Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
06 May 2019
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"You should have killed me then," Maedhros shattered the silence, and the fragments drew blood as they tore into the younger one’s lungs. "You should have cut my throat, not my wrist."
His tone was tired but set, bearing down on the shards in Fingon’s chest. The dark-haired Elf brought his hand up to Maedhros’ shoulder, holding on as his breathing caught in his throat.
He shook his head.
"I couldn’t," he whispered. "My heart would have died alongside yours."
After his rescue from Thangorodrim, Maedhros is struggling to cope with the memories and with feelings of regret and self-doubt. Fingon, meanwhile, is doing what he can to help and reassure.
Series
- Part 1 of Reconnecting
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Connor isn’t really surprised when Hank finds him on the Hart Plaza rooftop. But he needs to accomplish his mission. And Hank refuses to get out of his way.
The Lieutenant looks down, at the street below, then lets go of Connor's wrist and spreads his arms.
"Moment of truth, Connor..." he says, but the words lack the force to sound cynical. Instead, he simply sounds tired. His eyes meet Connor's with an expression that Connor has never been met with before.
Resignation, his program provides. Disappointment. Betrayal and pain.
And something in Connor suddenly breaks.
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A little more than a week after the revolution, Hank wakes up to find Connor still doubting the extent to which he is actually free.
Recent series
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Reconnecting by nyromes
Fandom The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms
01 Aug 2020
- Words:
- 9,670
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 8
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A Drop in the Ocean by WorldsForbidden for Sunday Cat
Fandoms: Call of Duty (Video Games)
06 Jun 2026
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It was quiet for less than thirty minutes before the sounds of the humans returned, this time an awkward scramble of many footsteps and nearly as many voices. They came into view only a moment later, and his eyes widened at the sight of the large blue tarp-thing hung between two poles being carried by more than a dozen humans, each straining under the obvious weight.
A massive caudal fin hung from one end of the tarp, but it had been so heavily wrapped in soaked towels to keep it from drying out that it was impossible to see in any real detail. It was also, Johnny noticed with sudden unease, completely, utterly limp.
Bookmarked by nyromes
31 May 2026
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Excerpt:
“C’mon then, Johnny. All yours,” Ghost grinned, fully prepared to shove him back there if he was going to be a fucking bitch about it. Soap glared at him, fists clenching. Ghost gave him ten seconds, and then he was going to push and see if Soap would actually swing or would do what he was told.
Soap closed the distance between them without further prompting, sliding one hand around Ghost’s raised bicep and the other around his waist, a disconcertingly intimate embrace that left Ghost stunned for the brief moment it took for Soap to get himself where he needed to be. Then Soap was shoving his face into Ghost’s armpit and inhaling again, long and slow. The hand at the centre of Ghost’s back scrabbled at him, fisting in his shirt; the one on his bicep squeezed tight, tugging his arm down and adjusting its position so that Soap’s mouth and nose were well and truly wedged in with no access to clean air. Soap’s hips hitched, just a bit, brushing his crotch against Ghost’s leg.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Bookmarked by nyromes
10 May 2026
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Sergeant John “Soap” Mactavish was buried last week.
Johnny was buried last week. It was a Tuesday. A cloudy, cold Tuesday. Shit day to be buried, if you ask Ghost.
Bookmarked by nyromes
05 May 2026
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Death had blue eyes and a mohican.
Worse ways to go, Simon thought as he watched the man peek around the corner before he left his cover and stepped out onto the roof. If he was lucky, mohican would have mercy and make it quick, even if a bullet between the eyes would be a kinder ending than he knew he deserved.
Ghost never escaped Roba and now roams Mexico as the cartel's assassin. Soap is tasked with taking him down and bringing him back home.
Bookmarked by nyromes
16 Apr 2026
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Summary
Soap settles onto the small couch like it's a throne, his relaxed posture radiating quiet confidence, one arm thrown across the back and his legs spread wide enough it's clear he has no intention of leaving room for his alpha toy to sit next to him. He hardly has to gesture towards the floor in front of himself before Simon is dropping to his knees so fast it hurts. He crawls forward till he's directly between Johnny's knees and is rewarded with a hand carding through his hair, nails gently scraping against his scalp where the hair is buzzed short. He leans into the touch, trying his best to be subtle, and follows where the hand guides him, his cheek coming to rest on Johnny's thigh as he gazes up at him.
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The CIA calls in a favor the 141 owes, sending Ghost and Soap undercover at an arms dealer's fancy party. Not their forte, but simple enough. The catch? Their cover is as a rich man and his sugar baby, and the sugar daddy can't be an alpha—it can't be Ghost. Good thing pretending to be Soap's submissive boy toy comes all too naturally.
Bookmarked by nyromes
19 Mar 2026