Redleatherpetals
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Joey has finally the opportunity to suck Henry’s cock all day long as he once promised him he would do. Joey introduces him to edgeplay and Henry discovers subspace.
Bookmarked by Redleatherpetals
05 Mar 2021
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“And yet, here we are.”
Joey’s voice is soft, the words spoken barely above a whisper, and Henry feels something tucked-away well up in his chest. It’s a beat before he remembers he’s meant to respond, but all he manages to produce is a strangled sound around the lump in this throat.
(Title is from The Amazing Devil's "That Unwanted Animal.")
Bookmarked by Redleatherpetals
05 Mar 2021
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You don’t know it yet, but I’m the cupid of things by Mercurialfan
Fandoms: British Actor RPF, The Witcher (TV) RPF
01 Mar 2020
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And now he was staring at his friend wearing blood-red lipstick and his heart was hammering out of his chest and he kept going back to the picture of Joey without a shirt and…
Bookmarked by Redleatherpetals
05 Mar 2021
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The Strength of The Wolf by therogueheart
Fandoms: Real Person Fiction, The Witcher (TV), The Witcher (TV) RPF
03 May 2020
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"Then he whats" Joey would like to say it was said calmly, with a vaguely surprised and mildly interested air. But it isn't. Its all but squeaked. Yelped, out of his mouth even as Mike begins the next sentence, utterly unphased by the words he'd just spoken.
Henry's gaze lifts from under an unfair set of lashes, tauntingly sultry in the way his dark eyes practically glitter with amusement, coy and challenging. The smirk that tilted his mouth was sinful, and Joey didn't know if he wanted to kiss it off the man or slap it off him.
"What, you don't think I could?"
Bookmarked by Redleatherpetals
05 Mar 2021
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Tear Me Down by thelordofstarsanddreams
Fandoms: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
20 May 2018
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When the eldest Archeron sister had first arrived at the camps, she'd refused to wear anything other than impractical gowns, or leggings with tunics that fell below her knees meeting the high boots she coupled with them.
Now Nesta held her ground in the high summer sun, the honed muscles of her arm shifting with each move of the blade. The strong dip of her shoulders disappearing beneath the black vest which clung to her supple figure, an Illyrian sheath at her spine. The breeches she wore were tight and belted, commpanied with those same boots and displaying the sculptured length of her long legs.
As she turned, the sunlight glinted off the silken braided strands of her hair, knitted in a crown around her skull. Her cheeks were flushed, sweat coating her skin, and a look of determination on her sharp features.
A warrior Queen, that's what she was.
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Bookmarked by Redleatherpetals
20 Feb 2021