ritzylwt
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barely midnight by brewrosemilk
Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023)
13 Nov 2025
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Summary
“S… seventeen—you’re fucking seventeen, Henry, I can’t—oh, fuck,” he curses when Henry manages an especially good roll of his hips.
“Only for…” Henry trails off, and Alex feels his weight shifting to the side—likely to get a glimpse of the clock-radio on Alex’s nightstand. “…twenty more minutes, love.”
“Mhm,” Alex nods, genuine frustration mingling with sexual frustration. “But you are now,” he reiterates, because… okay, realistically, what difference do twenty minutes actually make? And sure, he is able to recognize that he, himself, is twenty—and not… twenty-five, or thirty, or whatever, but still. Fuck, he wants to be a lawyer—his brain already is in a lot of ways, and because of that, well—twenty minutes make a whole hell of a lot of a difference, actually.
Bookmarked by ritzylwt
19 Apr 2026
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marked womb, made warm by brewrosemilk
Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023)
24 Apr 2025
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Summary
“No real person would be this much of a greedy whore,” he says, and Henry mewls as he feels the gentle bite of teeth tugging his earlobe. “Knocked the fuck up, huge and round, carrying two of my babies and still spreading your legs as soon as I say so, that can’t be fucking real,” he continues. “Letting me pound you until you’re crying and telling me it hurts and you’re numb and then whining when I slow down, huh? You’re telling me that’s real?”
Series
- Part 2 of beneath skin
Bookmarked by ritzylwt
19 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
God one of my favorite authors ! Hollanov, firstprince and buddie, and the best smut I’ve ever read
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icarus and all that by brewrosemilk
Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023)
19 Oct 2024
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Summary
Alex should have his license revoked. Alex should be locked up—imprisoned, for the rest of his fucking life.
His Royal Highness, Prince Henry of Wales is on his massage table, innocently praising his massage techniques—if he sounds like a fucking pornstar doing it, that's all on Alex. Stripped of context, most massage-induced moans could probably be passed off as something a lot more explicit—it’s just that he’s already on his metaphorical knees for this man, and he’s so beautiful, and he’s giving him so much—the moans have been continuous for a while, and now, so are the words, and his praise kink is rearing its ugly head to the point where his head is getting just a little bit cloudy—and the dimmed lights completely erase any clinical atmosphere—it’s all so cozy, and so warm, and so… pornographic.
Bookmarked by ritzylwt
19 Apr 2026
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Summary
“We need to talk,” Buck says. He barrels straight past Eddie, who is very much still standing in the middle of the damn doorway. He turns to watch Buck pace into the room, door still open behind him.
Mildly, Eddie says, “Okay. Can we do that in the morning?”
“I have to— now. It’s urgent, Eddie. This is—this is serious, and I need to say it now, or I’m going to explode, and you’ll have to drive home alone and explain what happened to Maddie, and you’ll have to bury just—just chunks of me, Eddie. Buck chunks. It’ll be the most closed casket of all time. They’ll have to put my casket in another casket just to make sure no one ever sees me. It would—”
“Okay, hey, slow your roll—” Eddie closes the door behind him, turning to watch as Buck stalks all the way inside like he owns the place.
Or: Buck, after drinks with Dixie at the bar, is unable to go through with hooking up. He needs to tell Eddie why. Immediately.
Series
- Part 9 of ejo + 911
Bookmarked by ritzylwt
17 Apr 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
I love the writing of this duo, both for buddie and for hollanov! Some of the best smut scenes I’ve read
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to have & to holler by badmetaphors
Fandoms: Game Changers Series - Rachel Reid, Heated Rivalry (TV)
21 Feb 2026
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Summary
Two years of playing together, and it still hit him every time. The casualness of it. My husband. Said out loud, in public. After years of hiding—stolen moments in hotel rooms, careful distance in public, the constant exhausting performance of just teammates, just rivals, nothing to see here—now Ilya could say it like it was nothing. Like it was easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Because it was. Finally.
In which Ilya Hollander-Rozanov cannot shut up about his husband. (Subtitled: No one asked, Ilya. Ilya. No one asked.)