harleybeaumont - Tumblr blog

harleybeaumont · 5 days ago

Text

Ahhhh this pairing has no business being this hot but here we are!! Soooo hot!!!!!

I woke up and saw this notification and couldn’t go back to sleep until I read it 😆 and boy am I glad I did!

I want so much more of them! So so so so much! Damn it why!? It’s so good! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Drake taking charge and Bert just melting into him, finally understanding where his true sexual desire lies . I love it so much

Flustered Bertrand Beaumont is one of my absolute favorite things and you did it so well!!

I’m sorry but you’ve only made me want more with this one shot! Sorry not sorry! 😂 ❤️

Well done, friend!

Changes: A ONiC One-Shot

Series: One Night in Cordonia, a @choicesprompts Round Robin Event.

Fandom: TRR mostly

CRACKSHIP ALERT: Drake x Bertrand

Word Count: 1,593

Rating: NSFW

Warnings: Lemons 🍋🍋🍋

A/N: This pairing was initiated by @harleybeaumont during the round robin event titled One Night in Cordonia. I cannot remember who requested it or if it's something @harleybeaumont and I thought up during one of our epic late night discussions. Either way, it somehow got brought up today and I went to send her the little bit of it that has been sitting in my WiP folder forever, but once I opened the Word doc, I decided to add a few quick details and then just kept going until it was finished. 🙃

This was not the writing project I had intended to work on today, but I don't get to choose where the inspiration strikes.

It's pure smut. Just so you know.

The rest of my stuff can be found here.

Bertrand stood in the Beaumont study, surveying the damage and contemplating the last several weeks.

The terrorist group responsible for the attack had been rounded up, and the authorities had finally left. He was happy to reclaim his study from Bastien. They had left the room in disarray, and he set about tidying it up.

He was kneeling on the floor, examining a discolored spot on the carpet and muttering about the King's Guard's complete lack of decorum with the door to the study opened. Whoever it was hadn't even bothered to knock.

Bertrand leapt to his feet with indignation, "This is a private room! Have you no manners?"

An amused voice answered him. "No need to get up on my account."

Bertrand paled and took a step back as Drake ambled into the room like he owned the place. Shutting the door behind him, he ignored Bertrand's outburst about manners and smirked at him. "I like the way you look on your knees."

"I…don't know what you're trying to imply—"

"What?" Amusement danced across his face as he took in the other man's discomfort. "Have you forgotten the last time you were on your knees in front of me?"

The lord of Ramsford flushed from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. Burning with shame and, distressingly, desire, he stuttered out an answer. "I…. Of course not! I mean…. That's not what I—"

Drake took a step toward him with a smirk. "You were really good at it."

"I…that…." Bertrand took another step back, bumping into a bookshelf and sending a miniature statue of a horse crashing to the ground.

Drake continued his advance until he stood directly in front of the duke, blocking any chance of a dignified retreat. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not!" Bertrand gulped loudly, belying his statement.

"No?" The bigger man shifted his weight slightly as he rested a hand on either side of his intended target.

Bertrand's eyes widened as shock, fear, and undeniable excitement flooded through him. He didn't trust his voice, so he simply shook his head.

A soft scoff issued from Drake as his eyes traced his face, settling on the set of lips that had brought him so much pleasure just a few weeks before.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

It was true that they had both been under the influence of some type of chemical that removed sexual inhibitions, but the fact remained that those impulses had to exist in the first place in order to be inhibited.

His disdain for Max's older brother had always masked a deeper emotion. Sexual attraction to other men wasn't new to him, but the realization that he had always been drawn to this particular man was.

"Tell me you don't want this." Drake's hand caressed Bertrand's cheek. "If you don't want me to kiss you right now, tell me to stop." He paused, giving the other man plenty of time to protest.

For a heartbeat, they stood frozen in time, face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Then Bertrand went weak in the knees as his eyes fluttered shut and his head tipped slightly up, lips parted, inviting the kiss.

Drake's lips crashed into his and he was falling, tumbling into a vast unknown, terror and exhilaration colliding inside him.

Bertrand Beaumont had never been good with women. He didn't understand what they wanted, he didn't understand how to attract them. He had never felt much of a pull to them at all. But this. This was different.

He had kissed a handful of women in his time. Their lips had been soft and yielding and the entire experience had been somehow wrong and off putting. His previous experiences with kissing had been nothing like this. This kiss was rough and demanding, the stubble that scratched his face sent red hot flames licking through him. His hands reached out to grasp not soft flesh, but hard muscles. He whimpered helplessly as his body reacted. His rock hard erection was evident as Drake's body pushed into his.

He wanted to die of shame until he realized that Drake was having the exact same reaction. Their cocks pressed against each other through the fabric of their pants as their hips ground against each other.

Bertrand had never felt another man's cock pressed against his own before, much less while it was hard. The thought that Drake was hard because of him was almost more than he could bear. Desire burned all the embarrassment out of him as he begged for more. "Please… I need—"

Before he could finish the thought, strong hands spun him around and jerked him sidewise away from the bookshelf, and pressed him against the wall. His pants were yanked down his body, leaving his ass bare and his dick throbbing. A foot forced his legs apart as a finger found his puckered hole. His mind was so clouded with lust that he barely registered some sort of lube being applied before a finger probed inside him. Warm breath tickled his ear as a voice rough with desire whispered in his ear. "How does that feel?"

"So good…" he gasped out as an ecstasy he had never imagined washed over him.

A soft kiss landed on the back of his neck. "I'm going to fuck you now. Hold still."

Bertrand's eyes squeezed shut as his body vibrated with pleasure and anticipation. "Yes…. Please…."

A feral growl broke free from Drake's throat at the pleading tone of the man trembling under his touch. It was all he could do to keep himself from slamming into him. Instead, he inserted himself slowly and gently, sliding in an inch at a time, giving the other man a chance to adjust.

A cry of ecstasy was torn from him as Drake hit the prostate.

His name falling from Bertrand's lips was the end of his restraint. No longer gentle, he moved his body at a more desperate pace, pulling himself out and shoving back into the man who was now writhing frantically beneath him.

Bertrand's feet tried to come out from under him as all the strength left his body. Blackness clouded the edges of his vision as the pleasure became all encompassing. A hand closed around his cock and stars exploded across his field of vision as the orgasm overtook him.

Drake slammed into him one last time with a roar, pinning his body to the wall as he emptied himself into him. He kept his body pressed into him until his cock finished pulsing.

When he finally stepped away, Bertrand was left with his pants in an undignified tangle around his ankles, a pleasurable soreness and the proof of what had just transpired leaking out of him. He turned to face the man who had just taken his innocence and awakened desires in him that he had not known he possessed, tripping over his tangled pants as he did so.

"Whoa there!" Drake caught him and then stepped back with a satisfied smirk as he fastened his own pants.

Hyperaware of Drake's eyes on him, he scrambled to redress himself, ignoring the sticky mess on his backside. Not knowing what to say, his eyes dropped to the floor as both mortification and gratification pinged through him at what had just transpired.

"Hey." Drake's finger found his chin and lifted his head. With a smile more tender than he had ever seen on his face, he told him, "You did great."

The mortification drained out of him, pride and happiness taking its place. "Really?"

"Really." He looked closer at Bertrand's expression. "Wait. Was that your first time with a man?"

Bertrand's eyes fell once again to the floor. "My first time….with anyone." Kissing women had been bad enough, he had never been able to push himself further with any of them.

Drake's eyes widened in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't know—"

"What?" Bertrand's head snapped up in alarm at the regret in Drake's voice. "Don't be sorry! That was…. It was… you were…. I mean…"

The smile returned to Drake's face as understanding dawned on him. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything else. I'm glad you liked it."

The alarm on Bertrand's phone went off, bringing him back to reality. "Apologies. I'm needed at a budgetary meeting soon."

"No problem. I have shit to do, too. See you around."

Panic sliced through him as he watched Drake make it to the door. "Wait!"

Drake paused and turned around. "Yeah?"

Bertrand fought against the tidal wave of insecurity and anxiety that threatened to silence him. For once in his life, he was going to ask for what he wanted. "Is there any chance we could… um…. " He faltered as embarrassment threatened to pull him under.

A grin pulled Drake's lips up as he watched Bertrand stumble over his words. He decided to put him out of his misery. "Are you asking if we can do this again?"

"Yeah." If he said no, Bertrand was going to drop right through the floor.

"You can count on it." Drake thumped the edge of the door frame on his way out, humming happily as he strolled down the hall.

Bertrand slumped against the wall as relief and disbelief surged through him.

He had no idea what this all meant. No idea what tomorrow would bring. There was only one thing that he knew for certain.

Everything was going to be different now.

35 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 22 days ago

Text

Girl! First of all that picture is perfect!

And holy crap this story had everything! The angst , the fluff, the pining, the innuendo.. just a top tier story all around!

I love seeing a glimpse behind the scenes of the story we already know, letting us learn more about them and see more of their love story as it unfolds ❤️

Drake as usual denying and hiding his feelings (badly) for as long as possible

Liam completely sure that he’s going to win her over, cocky and confident

And Max being so sweet and devoted to her from the beginning

Amazing story 💜💜💜💜

Crush: A Bad Romance One-Shot

Series: Bad Romance Continues

Original Series: Bad Romance

Fandom: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing for this chapter: Riley x Max, Riley x Drake, Riley x Liam with tiny hints of Liam x Max

Rating: Fluffy

Warnings for this chapter: None

Word Count: 3,274

Thanks to @kyra75 for this ask for the "secret admirer" prompt for the @choicesprompts 2024 Flufftober event.

A/N: This is a prequel because we already know what happens during Bad Romance so it doesn't fit there. I could have placed it after but I would have had to either bring in a new person which I didn't want to do or go the predictable route of it turning out to the person's partner all along. Instead, I decided to place it before the events of Bad Romance, and here's why: I've written next to nothing about Riley's first few months in Cordonia but Bad Romance does state that Liam had to work his butt off to pry Riley's attention away from Max during that time. In fact, Liam mentions it often because he's still salty about it. Max mentions it too because he did eventually get dumped for Liam. I thought this was a perfect place to show some of that.

To reiterate: This takes place in the first month of Riley being in Cordonia, while she is sleeping with Max, Liam is trying to change that and Drake is trying to pretend he doesn't like her like that.

My other stuff: Master List.

For the life of me, I cannot remember if someone sent me this image or if I stumbled across it myself. It's been in my save folder for awhile. I'd like to give proper credit, so if you sent it to me, speak up!

Riley entered her room and stopped to smell the roses. The two dozen red roses to be exact. They had been delivered to her room earlier. She closed her eyes as the sweet floral scent washed over her.

The smell was sublime.

She opened her eyes to admire the blood red petals. Her fingers gently stroked a lush bloom, her expression contemplative as her mind whirled.

She turned her head to observe the man who had entered the room with her. “You’re sure they’re not from you?”

“Yes, Riley, I’m sure,” Max admittedly a little reluctantly.

“Any ideas who they might be from?”

He shrugged dismissively. “Could be anyone, really. You have many admirers at court. I’m not surprised one of them decided to shoot his shot.” Hana’s face flashed before his eyes. “Or hers.”

She fluttered her lashes at him. “Does that bother you?”

Max shook his head, and then gave her that boyish grin that always made her heart flutter. “How can I blame them? You’re the total package, babe.”

“You sweet talker.” Riley grinned at him as she strode across the room to pinch his cheeks.

Despite the fact that they were sleeping together, the simple sign of affection from her caused heat to flame across his face. He studied the toe of his shoe as he told her, “You deserve flowers. I should have thought to send you some.”

“Hey,” she put a finger under his chin and lifted his head. “The roses are lovely, but you do sweet things for me all the time. I’m very happy with our little…. Arrangement.”

His face lit up. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips softly across his. “We’re staying in tonight, right?”

They were in between royal events for the next week and while eating in the main dining hall was always an option, Max had suggested room service and a movie marathon in her room instead.

Riley had agreed because frankly, she was sick of Madeleine’s shit. Eating with all the bitchy divas of the nobility was not her idea of fun. Drake avoided her like the plague ever since their encounter on the plane ride over, and Liam rarely made appearances in the public dining hall in between official royal events.

Not that she was interested in him. Their night in New York aside, she knew he would never choose a waitress to be queen. He couldn’t. So, she had found other diversions.

She could certainly do a lot worse than Maxwell Beaumont.

“Right,” Max agreed, as a shiver ran down his spine at her touch. “I had the kitchen make your favorite dinner.”

“See?” she purred. “That’s what I mean about how thoughtful you are.”

“Let’s meet back here at dinnertime, okay?” He stepped away from her and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see.” He gave her a mischievous grin as he exited the room.

“Okay then.” With a furrowed brow, she returned her attention to the roses. After a brief moment of consideration, her decision was made.

She might not know why Max was acting weird all of a sudden, but she had enough time before dinner to do a little investigation into her secret admirer.

****

“I’m coming!” Drake yelled in irritation.

Who the fuck was knocking on his door in the middle of the afternoon on his day off?

“Can’t get any peace and quiet ever.” He muttered under his breath as he yanked the door open. “What?”

His eyes widened with a sharp intake of breath. “Riley! What are you doing here?” His eyes darted frantically up and down the hallway. This girl was a scandal waiting to happen.

“Was it you?”

“Was what me?”

“The flowers. Were they from you?” Her gaze bore into him with laser intensity.

His forehead creased as he tried to make sense of the conversation. “Flowers?”

Her eyes scanned his face, then she shook her head. “Of course not.”

His brain finally caught up. “Someone sent you flowers?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“Weren’t they from your boyfriend?”

Was that a note of bitterness she detected? She smiled from ear to ear as her body swayed slightly back and forth. “What boyfriend would that be?”

His face fixed in a scowl, he grunted, “Max.”

She bit into her lower lip as she leaned forward and ran a hand up his arm. “Are you jealous of Max?”

His arms crossed defensively over his chest as he took a step back. “No!”

“Sure, you’re not. But someone sent me two dozen roses, and it wasn’t Max. Any ideas who it could have been?”

Drake blew out a resigned sigh. Of fucking course he knew who it was. Who else would it be? But he wasn’t telling her that.

While he wasn’t going to stand in Liam’s way, he sure as hell wasn’t going to help him. Instead, he shrugged with what he hoped was nonchalance as he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Okay. Bye then.” She spun on her heel and started back down the hallway.

“Riley, wait!” He stumbled out the door into the hallway, ready to sprint after her.

She stopped and turned back with arched eyebrows. “Yes?”

“I…” All the reasons he should not and could not pursue this woman poured through his mind as he stood frozen in the middle of the corridor.

“Well?”

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Hm. Well, if it’s ever something, you know where my room is.” She wiggled her fingers at him before spinning to leave again.

He watched her go as frustration and regret danced through his chest.

****

Riley questioned several guards and a couple of butlers, but no one knew anything.

She was on her way back to her room when she bumped right into Liam. She found herself tangled in his embrace, laughter rumbling through him as he caught her. “Whoa there! Where’s the fire?”

“Liam!” She made no move to extract herself from his arms. Instead, she smiled up at him. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking.”

“I see that!” He stared down at her with a sappy grin for several long seconds before remembering himself. He cleared his throat as he stepped away from her. “Were you on your way to the dining hall?”

“No, my room, actually.”

“I hope everything is okay.”

She gave him a bright smile as she leaned in and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Everything is fine. I just can’t take another dinner with those fucking harpies.”

Liam threw his head back and laughed. Yes, it was a scandalous remark, but he found her honesty refreshing. He found everything about her refreshing, not to mention alluring. He moved closer to her to whisper, “Why do you think I never eat in the public dining hall?”

It was her turn to laugh. “Oh, my! What an unprincely thing to say!”

“You seem to bring out that side of me.” His tone suddenly serious, he blurted, “Have dinner with me tonight? In my private dining room?”

“I’d love to, but I already have plans for tonight.”

“Oh. I thought you said you were having dinner in your roo—”

“Yes, we are.”

His shoulders slumped. “I see.”

“Tomorrow?”

His head snapped up. “You’ll have dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“That’s…. not exactly the response I was hoping for—”

“I mean, if you’d rather not—”

“No! No… I mean yes! I mean… I definitely want to have dinner with you, Riley. Tomorrow night it is.”

“Great. Just text me the time.”

He immediately whipped out his phone and sent her a text.

She rewarded him with a seductive smirk. “That was quick.”

“He who hesitates is lost.”

“I would have said you snooze, you lose. But that works too.”

“I don’t intend to lose.”

“Lose what?”

His voice was unusually low and quiet as he returned the phone to his pocket. “You, Riley.”

Riley Brooks was seldom taken aback by anything a man said, but that did the trick. “What?”

“Surely you haven’t forgotten our night in New York so easily.”

“Of course, not. I just didn’t think—”

“Did you like the roses? They’re from my mother’s garden.”

“That was you?”

“Yes.”

“But…why?”

“Why?” He looked at her with his mouth agape. Glancing around quickly to ensure they were still alone in the hallway; he reached for her and yanked her body to his. Lowering his lips to her ear, he murmured, “I know you think New York was just about sex and that a prince would never marry a waitress, but you’re wrong, Riley. Dead wrong. On both counts.”

She pulled back to search his onyx eyes with her emerald ones. She couldn’t help the skepticism in her voice. “Really?”

“Yes, really! What do I have to do to convince you of that?”

“I don’t know, Liam. But it’s going to take more than a few roses.”

Gifts were not about to win her over. Sure, she had come from poverty, but he hadn’t. Material things were easy for him to come by and easy for him to part with. Simply spending money on her only convinced her that he wanted to sleep with her.

While sex with the smoking hot prince was something she was more than willing to engage in, she refused to let her heart get involved when she already knew disappointment was waiting at the end.

No matter what he said, he was never going to marry her. He wasn’t in love with her. He was in lust with her and that was something she was familiar with, something she could roll with. But she would not be tricked into letting her feelings get involved.

If he expected her to fall in love, he was going to have to invest a lot more than just money. That was too easy. She refused to be merely one more victim in the trail of broken hearts he’d left behind him.

Liam watched her walk away with a myriad of emotions crashing through him. If she wanted him to work harder to get her attention, he would do that. He knew she liked him. The night in New York had proven that. But since her arrival in Cordonia, she had frozen him out. Were her plans tonight with Max? What the fuck did she see in Max that she didn’t see in him? It was frustrating, galling, and, if he were being honest with himself, a little thrilling. He did love a good challenge.

***

Riley let herself back into her room to a stupendous surprise. The two dozen red roses still graced the console table near the entry, but every other available surface, save the bed, was now covered in vases brimming with all manner of blue flowers. Deep blue roses, baby blue hydrangeas, several shades of carnations, and blue and white morning glories, among others, were spread across the tops of the dresser, the end tables, and the vanity.

She gasped as she turned circles, taking it all in. “Max! What is this?”

“Ah…” pink flamed across his cheeks. “I know red roses are romantic and all, but I also know blue is your favorite color, so I took a chance that you might like them.”

“Like them? Max, I love them! But you didn’t have to do all this just because Liam sent me flowers.”

“It was Liam?” His heart sank.

He felt pretty confident about his chances of competing against most of the men at court. But Liam was another story entirely. Of course, she would want Liam. Hell, he wanted Liam, so he certainly couldn’t blame her.

Maybe now was the time to tell her that his feelings for her were real. That it was more than just fun and games for him. “Riley, I—”

There was a knock on the door.

“Hold that thought,” she told him as she strode across the room to answer it.

She pulled the door open to find Drake standing in the hallway. Her face lit up with surprised delight. “Hey, handsome! Did you finally decide on something?”

“I…ah... wanted to talk—” his words cut off mid-sentence as Max appeared in the doorway behind her. A storm raged across his face. “You know what? Never mind. I shouldn’t have—”

“Drake? What are you doing here?”

All three heads turned toward the new voice.

Drake’s brain spun frantically, trying to find a reasonable explanation for his presence. “Ah, I noticed they were missing from the dining hall and wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

Liam’s shoulders relaxed. He had asked Drake to keep an eye on her for him. To personally ensure her safety.

“What are you doing here?” Riley directed her question to Liam.

“I needed to change the time of our date tomorrow night.”

Max stiffened. Drake inspected the casing around the doorframe.

“You couldn’t have texted me that?”

“I could have…” that sparkle that she remembered from New York was back in his eyes. “But I wanted to see you in person.”

“Hm.” She smiled as her finger tapped her lips. “Well, since you’re both here, would you like to come in and join us? We were going to have dinner sent up and have a movie marathon.”

Drake looked skeptically from her to Liam to Max. “I don’t know if we should—”

“I’d love to!” Liam swept into the room with satisfaction radiating from every pore of his body. He pushed past a dismayed Max.

That satisfaction evaporated as he took in the scene in front of him. “That’s a lot of blue flowers.”

Max perked up as his arm went around Riley’s shoulder. “Blue is her favorite color, so I thought she might like some to offset all that red.”

“Yes, I get it. You had to go big after copying my idea.”

“I—” Max’s reply was cut off by Riley’s hand on his chest. “No fighting, boys. We’re going to watch movies and have fun tonight.” Turning back toward Drake, she motioned for him to come in. “Are you going to stand in the hallway or are you going to get in here and help me make sure these two behave?”

Drake hesitated only a second or two.

What could it hurt?

He glanced around at the room full of flowers. Two dozen of Cordonia’s finest red roses, straight from the crown’s own garden shimmered in the waning daylight. At least a dozen vases of flowers turned the room into a shimmering ocean of blue. The younger son of one of Cordonia’s noblest houses and the crown prince himself at a standoff over her attentions, and still she wanted him there. That meant something, right?

Not that he was interested in her. If Liam got his way, and Liam usually did, she was going to be the next queen and his best friend’s wife. Both of those things put her firmly off limits to him, no matter how much she inflamed his desires, haunted his dreams, and bedeviled his waking hours.

Still. What could it hurt to watch a couple of movies with her and two of his oldest friends? It was really Liam and Max he was staying for. To make sure they didn’t fight over her too much. Yeah, that’s why he was staying.

Riley leaned over and whispered into Max’s ear. His scowl was replaced with a flushed face and a broad grin. He nodded as he pulled his phone from his pocket and started swiping. His eyes flicked up long enough to say, “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll have the kitchen send up more food.”

Drake took the lounge chair next to the bed just as Riley climbed up and settled herself in the middle of the bed. She patted the space on either side of her. “Who wants to join me?”

Before Drake could react, Liam was in the closest spot and Max had hurled himself onto the bed, clambering over two sets of legs to claim the other side. With a disgruntled shake of his head, he thumped back into the chair.

This had been a bad idea.

But it hadn’t been a bad idea. His misgivings were soon put to rest as they all balanced their dinner plates on their laps and got completely and inexplicably sucked into Barbie.

Not a movie he would have picked, but as it turned out, it was not a kid’s movie at all. The existential angst, the clever humor, the insightfulness, and the adventure had him forgetting the awkwardness of the situation and laughing along with his friends at the onscreen antics. He was relaxed and actually enjoying his night off.

Max had pushed aside his insecurities about Liam, choosing to focus, instead, on the promises Riley had whispered in his ear about the rewards he’d receive later for being a good boy and playing nice with everyone. His eyes kept sliding sidewise to gauge her reactions to the movie. He wanted to share all of them with her…. every laugh, every gasp, every moment. Not just of the movie, he realized, but for the rest of his life.

His gaze flicked briefly to the man on her other side. He knew Liam was still an obstacle, but he had infinite amounts of patience and faith, deep in his heart, that everything would work out in the end.

Liam didn’t miss the sidelong glances Max was throwing at both him and Riley. He couldn’t say he was completely oblivious to Max’s charms, but he was nothing if not persistent.

She didn’t trust him yet. That was fine. He would prove to her that she could. She needed him to put in work, and he would do that. He had yet to set his mind to any task that he couldn’t master. He just needed to try harder, be smarter, and focus deeper. Winning her heart would be worth it. He knew to the very core of his being that they belonged together.

Long after the dishes had been cleared, and the night had deepened, Riley lay with her head on Liam’s shoulder, drifting off as the credits for the latest Ghostbusters movie rolled. Max was curled up against her on her other side, one arm slung over her waist as Liam’s fingers gently combed through her hair. The sound of Drake’s soft snoring drifted through the room.

She should probably wake everyone and tell them to go sleep in their own beds. That would be far more comfortable, especially for Drake, who was dozing in a chair. But the warmth emanating from the men on either side of her, combined with the softness of the bed and the darkness of the room, lulled her into a contented coziness that she was loathe to break.

The quiet hum of the air conditioning filled the room as the TV clicked off, sealing her decision as she let herself drift off to sleep surrounded by the sounds, scents, and warmth of the three men who had commanded all her attention for the last month.

For the moment, none of them were fighting each other or her. Their earlier laughter still rang in her ears. For tonight, things were peaceful, calm, and happy, and not a single one of them wanted to do anything to disrupt that.

Liam was the last one left awake. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Good night, Riley.” Before closing his eyes and slipping into a contented slumber of his own.

36 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 2 months ago

Note

Hello, I hope you're doing well. Have a nice day, friend 🩷 I appreciate you and your presence in this wonderful fandom. Keep it up, sunshine!!

Thank you! I’m good, hope you are as well!

2 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 2 months ago

Text

OMG! 😱 😱😱😱😱

Yessss girl I am so hooked on this story! This is so damn good

I swear I feel like I’m at the police station and can smell the coffee and danish and hear the phones ringing in the background

Love her interactions with all the guys!

Drakes cocky ass made me laugh so hard “I knew you were into me” 😂😂😂

And matchmaker Stella strikes again! lol trying to get Liam a date now

This mystery is so good and I can’t wait for more!

Law's End: Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 7

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there is zero canon, I've just borrowed the characters)

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,582

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found here: Master List.

The conference room in the homicide division of the seventh precinct was filled with the smells of coffee and fresh pastries. It was early. Too early, considering they’d all been there until well after midnight interrogating witnesses.

The food was Bertrand’s way of making up for the fact that no one had gotten much sleep the night before, but everyone still turned up bright and early, ready to work.

“So, she does have a history of stalking.” Liam flipped the file across the table to Flynn.

Detective O’Malley reached for the manila folder and flipped it open. “Who’d she stalk?”

“Clarence Coleman. An app developer. The police reports are in there. He was granted a restraining order. I’ve left a message for him to contact us. See if he’s heard from her lately.”

Flynn skimmed the information in front of him. “This was three years ago.”

Liam nodded. “It’s likely that she stopped harassing Cole when she started sleeping with Trent.”

There was a knock on the conference room door and Rashad entered, carrying a laptop. “There are no security cameras at the vic’s apartment complex, but I found a late model Nissan Pathfinder registered to the suspect and scrubbed video footage from nearby traffic cameras.” He placed the laptop on the table and flipped it around for the detectives to see.

Liam leaned forward to get a closer look. “Is that our suspect?”

“Yes,” Rashad confirmed, “Three blocks away from our vic’s house, heading that direction, fifteen minutes before the 911 call. And this….” He swiped to another image. “…is her ten minutes after the call heading the other direction through the same intersection.”

“We need more than that for an arrest warrant,” Flynn said as he zoomed in, looking for any evidence of blood visible in the photo, but it was too grainy. “It’s not illegal to be in the vicinity.”

Liam pushed away from the table. “Let’s get back over to the apartment complex and show her photo to the neighbors. Maybe someone will remember seeing her that morning.”

An hour later, he was seated in a small but elegant dining room as Stella Haltom served him coffee. Flynn was canvassing other neighbors, ones they hadn’t been able to reach yesterday.

Liam had tried to decline, but Stella was insistent.

“You’re very young for a homicide detective, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am, I—”

“Are you single?”

“I am. But—”

“Really? A young, handsome, successful man like you?”

“Well—”

“You know, if things don’t work out between my granddaughter and that nice reporter—”

Liam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Ma’am, if we could get back to business. I just have a few quick questions—”

“Oh, yes, of course! You wanted me to look at more photos?”

“Well, one more.” Liam pulled up the photograph of Sabrina Simmons on his cell phone and held it out to her.

“Oh, my yes!” Stella somehow managed to convey disapproval with a nod of her head. “That was the one that was over there the most.”

“Did he entertain a lot of women?”

Stella snorted so hard she choked on her coffee. Once she recovered her breath, she clarified, “Whatever you think a lot is, multiply that by at least three!”

“That many?”

“Yes, and now that I think of it, two days before the murder, this one,” she gestured toward his phone, “showed up while one of the other ones was there.”

“Was there an argument?”

“Was there an argument?” She scoffed as a frown pulled her lips down. “Woke half the building with the screaming. I’m surprised no one called the cops.”

“Thank you. This is very helpful. Did you happen to see her on the day of the murder?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. I was gone for most of the morning.”

“Where were you, again?”

“I left to help organize the church rummage sale early that morning.”

Liam checked his notes. “So, you overheard the argument between the two men when?”

“On my way out. I had to walk past Mr. Hayes’ apartment on my way to the elevator.”

“Just to review… you overheard the argument at roughly seven a.m., left for the church, followed by brunch, and returned home just after noon.”

“That’s correct.”

“So, you were home when the gunshots were fired?”

“Yes.” She shuddered. “It was terrifying!”

“And you didn’t see or hear anyone else coming or going from his apartment that day?”

“No.”

“Is there anything you can think of that you noticed that day? Anything at all?”

“I already told you everything yesterday. And that lovely reporter as well.”

Liam sighed at the mention of Riley. He couldn’t forbid a private citizen from speaking to the press, no matter how much he wanted to. But it did remind him of something. “Speaking of Miss Brooks… she mentioned you saw a woman at the victim’s apartment the night before the murder?”

“Yes.”

“Was that woman either of these?” He showed her the photographs of both Sabrina and Katie again.

Stella peered at both, then shook her head. “No.”

“Do you know who she was?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry. I couldn’t keep up with all the women that were in and out of that apartment. Besides, I don’t like to get into other people’s business.”

It took a concerted effort for him to not react to such an obviously false statement.

He jotted down a general description of the woman before extricating himself from the conversation. “Okay, ma’am. Thank you for your time.”

“I’m always happy to help the boys in blue!” she smiled proudly. “You have my number in case you have any further questions, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ve got it.” Liam flipped his notepad closed. “If you think of anything else, please let us know.”

He stepped out into the hallway and reconvened with his partner. “How’d it go on your end?”

Flynn shrugged. “I found multiple witnesses that identified Sabrina Simmons as Trenton Hayes’ girlfriend, but none that could definitively place her at the scene on the day of the murder.”

“I confirmed there was a third woman here the night before the murder, but I don’t know who.”

“We’ll have the plainclothes canvas again and try to find that information. I think it’s time you and I go have a conversation with Ms. Simmons.”

“Agreed.” Liam pushed the button for the elevator. When it dinged open, he found himself face to face with Riley. “What are you doing here?”

“Good morning to you, too.” She stepped back so they could fit into the lift with her. “Probably the same thing you are.”

Liam made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat as they stepped into the elevator. “Where’s your sidekick this morning?”

“Max?” She looked surprised at his question. “I don’t know. Probably sleeping in after that late night we all had. Why do you ask?”

Liam shrugged. “I’m just used to seeing the two of you together.”

“When I need a photographer.” She studied his demeanor, then a small grin crept across her face. “Why so interested in who I spend my time with, detective?”

“I’m not.”

Before she could answer, the elevator rocked to a stop on the first floor and the doors slid open. As they stepped off, a familiar face caught her eye. “Drake!”

The PI turned from the concierge desk to face the trio, his eyes lighting up. “Riley! What a pleasant surprise!” He was less enthusiastic as he greeted the two men. “Hello, detectives.”

The men exchanged handshakes as Liam asked, “Why are you here, Walker?”

“I’m investigating the murder of Trent Hayes. I was officially retained to do so this morning by Sadie McGraw. I was thinking it would be in both our best interests to collaborate.”

“I don’t know—”

Flynn’s phone cut through the conversation. He pulled it out and glanced down at the screen. “This is the boss. Hold on.”

Flynn stepped away to take the call, leaving Riley with Liam and Drake.

Not awkward at all.

After a brief conversation, Flynn returned to inform the group, “The chief just got out of a meeting with the mayor. We are to collaborate and cooperate fully with Walker here.”

“Great!” Drake gloated.

“Great,” Liam grumbled.

Flynn shot a pointed look at Riley. “If you’ll excuse us, ma’am, we have a case to discuss.”

“Don’t let me get in your way. I’m just going to grab a latte and update my notes.” She gave them a disarming smile and turned on her heel, disappearing into the small coffee shop located just off the main entrance.

She really was going to update her notes, but she had no intention of leaving without an update on the case. Liam was never going to crack, but she liked her chances of getting information out of Drake. She fired off a quick text as she waited for her drink.

Ten minutes later, Drake was at her table. “You said you had some information for me?”

“I said I was willing to trade information with you.” She gestured for him to sit as the barista approached to take his order.

He ordered a black coffee and then returned his attention to the reporter. “What information do you have that I can’t find out for myself?”

“Maybe none.” She lifted a shoulder. “But it took me three hours of knocking on doors to find out the identity of the woman Trent was with the night before the murder. You could spend the next three hours doing the same or we could help each other out.”

He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. He didn’t have to reveal anything about his client to slip her the information about who the police were looking at as their prime suspect. “I suppose I could share a detail or two. You’re going to find it out on your own anyway.”

Her eyebrows raised. “How do you know that?”

“Because I did a little digging. Your investigative skills are impressive. No wonder you’ve won the Edward R. Murrow Award for journalism as well as two Scripps Awards.”

Her eyebrows arched even higher as she took a long sip of her latte before placing the cup carefully on the table in front of her. “Wow. You really did do your homework. I don’t know whether to be impressed or alarmed. Are you stalking me, sir?”

“Hardly.” He snorted. “Are you going to tell me that you did absolutely no research on me after agreeing to a date?”

“I agreed to dinner. No one said it was a date.”

“Semantics, but fine. Dinner. Answer the question. Did you not look into me at all?”

“You mean did I find out that you graduated from the police academy at the top of your class but quit six months into your first year to go into business with your father? That you have one sister, Savannah, and that you’ve never been married?”

He gave her a smug smile. “I knew you were into me.”

“Please,” she laughed, “It’s just common sense to find out what you can about a man you plan to be alone with.”

He leaned across the table with a smirk. “So, you plan to be alone with me?”

She hid a grin behind her cup. “At the very least I’ll be getting into a car alone with you when we go to dinner.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, we’ll see how the evening progresses, won’t we?”

“Can’t wait.”

“Now, are you going to tell me what you learned from the cops?”

“I don’t know. Are you going to tell me who the woman from the other night is?”

“If your information is good enough.”

“I know who their prime suspect is.”

“Is it Katie or William Sloan or Dean Collins?”

“No.”

She sat up straighter. “There’s another suspect in play?”

He twirled his coffee cup in his fingers. “Yep.”

“Okay. Yes, that’s a fair trade. Who is it?”

“Sabrina Simmons. She was his secretary when he was engaged to Katie. He cheated on Katie with Sabrina. That’s the reason they broke up. After Katie dumped him, Sabrina became his girlfriend. Last weekend, she showed up while he was entertaining someone else. Several neighbors heard the argument. The theory is that she got fed up with his womanizing. She has a history of stalking, and the cheating gives her motive.”

“Interesting theory, because the woman that was there Monday night is his current secretary.”

“Sounds like he has a history of sleeping with his secretary. What’s her name?”

“Sarah Foster. She’s not at work today. I already called.”

“Well, her boss slash boyfriend was murdered yesterday. I can track down a home address for her.”

“Way ahead of you.” She shoved her notes into her bag as she stood up. “Wanna go question her together?”

“How the hell did you get her address already?”

It was Riley’s turn to smirk. “I have my sources.”

“Okay, let’s go. But I’m driving.”

“I don’t want to leave my car here. I’ll meet you there. Here’s the address.” She quickly scribbled the information on a piece of paper.

He threw some money on the table to cover the coffee, took the slip of paper from her, and then pulled his phone out and opened the contact list.

“What are you doing?”

“Holding up my end of the deal with the CCPD. Collaboration works both ways.”

“Could you at least wait until after we have a chance to talk to her?”

He hesitated as he considered her request. “Why?”

“Because you and I both know that once the police get there, I won’t be allowed to talk to her! Police protocol this and interfering with an investigation that, blah, blah, blah… Come on…. You wouldn’t even know who she was if it wasn’t for me.”

“I would have eventually knocked on the right door and found out.”

“Yeah, hours from now, by which time I would have already interviewed her for my article. Don’t make me regret sharing information with you.”

“Fine.” He slotted the phone back into his pocket. “You get ten minutes with her, then I’m making the call.”

“Deal. Let’s go!”

The drive from Vista Heights to Sarah’s apartment complex took nearly forty-five minutes. Riley found Drake waiting for her in front of the entrance.

The apartment complex was a stark contrast to Trent’s. A dingy brick building surrounded by other dingy brick buildings, it had no doorman, and the front door was propped open. There was certainly no concierge desk or coffee shop in the lobby.

No elevator came when Drake pushed the button. “Looks like we’re taking the stairs.”

“Good thing she’s only on the fourth floor.”

As they approached apartment 412, Drake suddenly stopped and put his arm out to halt Riley.

“What?”

“Shhh….” He moved in front of her and pulled a gun from his hip. “The door is cracked open. Stay here.”

Riley Brooks hadn’t built her career by standing down. The moment Drake pushed the door open and stepped across the threshold, she followed, keeping quiet so he wouldn’t notice.

“Hello? Is anyone home? Sarah?” He called out as he made his way through the living room. He entered the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. “Well, shit.”

Riley entered right behind him, craning her neck to peer around him. Well, shit was right.

Sarah Foster lay on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood.

#laws end #this is so good #more crime more drama

27 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 2 months ago

Text

Ohhh my god! 😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️

This.. THIS is what should have happened! Ahh I love it! All the comforting from everyone was so perfect and sweet!

I’m so glad they didn’t take her memories away in this version and she didn’t run away!

My jaw dropped at cassiels reaction- all the kisses were so sweet!

Each one of these men cherish her and you can tell they all hold a special place in her heart

David’s little joke at the end 😂 so on brand and perfect . And of course he immediately volunteered for the first shift 😁

Girl this was AMAZING 🤩 ❤️

Audrey's Broken Heart

Fandom: Astrea's Broken Heart (Romance Club)

Pairings: Audrey (F!MC) x multiple LI's

Word Count: 2,479

Rating: MA for mentions of violence

Warnings for this chapter: mentions of violence (canon), slight sexual innuendo.

A/N: So that last chapter (season 2, chapter 1) left something to be desired in my mind. So I rewrote it and tweaked a few things.

I have no idea who to tag other than @harleybeaumont because I don't know who is into this story and I can't even remember the RC blog that is like CFWC so here it goes out into the ether. May the odds be ever in it's favor!

My other stuff: Master List.

The world spun as I lay on my back, gazing up at the stained glass window above me.

So this is how I die.

The fucking irony.

I had escaped one religious cult only to fall victim to another… after a lifetime of avoiding and rejecting even the most mundane churches and religious philosophies.

How? How had I ended up here?

This was Ruth’s fault.

Assigning blame wouldn’t help me now. I needed help, but there was no one to call. My cell phone was gone, and no one even knew where I was. Instead, I prayed. I prayed to a God I had ceased to believe in. I prayed fervently as I cast my eyes around the church searching for a way out… a weapon… an ally…. Anything of use.

There was nothing.

Nothing and no one. And no response from God.

I closed my eyes against the inevitable. A deep, all-encompassing grief spread through me.

I wasn’t ready to die.

Faces flashed through my mind, but not the ones you would think.

It wasn’t my parents or a lost love that occupied my dying thoughts. No. It was the four men who had inexplicably become my whole world.

David. He had offered to come with me or at least drive me here, but I hadn’t let him. I should have let him. But then he’d be in the same predicament. David. Sweet, sarcastic, passionate. The world needed him in it. At least I could die knowing he was safe. That was some amount of comfort.

Mikael. Would he be disappointed? Sad? I thought so, but I wasn’t sure. There seemed to be a connection between us, but nothing tangible, nothing ever spoken. He was the consummate professional. He would be there to comfort the others.

Cassiel. His job was to protect us. Where was he now? Would he blame himself? I hoped not. He was already too serious, too angry at the world. Despair filled me as I realized that the progress we’d made would die with me. All those cracks in his armor would refill and seal shut forever.

Raphael. He lived with a deep, pervasive sadness. This would only make it worse. It might destroy him. He was too good for this world. Compassionate. Caring. Vulnerable. As I lay dying, I swore I could feel his soft lips on mine again.

There was a commotion and my eyes fluttered open, but what I saw didn’t make any sense. Or maybe it did.

I saw an angel, which was appropriate because I was dying. Had he come to collect my soul?

I could feel my life slipping away. I was too weak to fight anymore, too weak to even cry out for help, too weak to understand what was happening around me.

No one was trying to kill me anymore. The cult members had scattered. A booming voice filled the room, promising damnation and darkness.

The angel was raining vengeance down on the evildoers. It would have made me happy if I’d had the energy to feel anything at all.

Through the last vestiges of consciousness, my fog addled brain registered something wholly impossible.

The angel…. It was Raphael.

My eyes closed again as I sank into the darkness.

The next thing I was aware of was the warmth of my own bed.

My body was leadened. I couldn’t move or speak, but I knew I was home, and more importantly, alive.

Barely.

I was vaguely aware of voices as I faded in and out of consciousness. Distressed murmurs. Fervent pleas to live. Voices that rose and fell in discord and grief.

When my eyes opened, I was in a verdant valley of lush green grass and rolling hills. The sky above me was a vibrant blue.

Across the valley was a glimmering golden light pulsating from an open portal. I could feel the peace emanating from it. I felt pulled toward it. I wanted to go to it, enter it, and forget all the pain and chaos of the world I’d left behind, but when I took a step toward it, I felt an equally compelling pull in the other direction. I turned to look back and found myself staring down at my own body.

Mikael perched next to me holding my hand, heedless of the blood covering it, and now him. “I can’t hear her.” His voice was filled with despair.

I felt his touch and the pull to go back became slightly stronger. I took a step in that direction and paused again, casting a glance back at that golden glow that promised peace.

My mother appeared beside me. Laying her hand on my shoulder, she gave me a look filled with compassion, love, and regret. “It’s up to you if you go back or not.”

“Mom?” My voice quivered. I opened my mouth but couldn’t decide which of the million questions spilling through my head I should ask.

Before I could process the fact that my mother was with me, that I was being offered a choice between continuing life or not; before I could ask her anything, the pull from my body grew stronger.

“You were sent to us for a reason, Audrey…”

I looked back to see Mikael holding my body close to his. Mikael covered in my blood. Mikael pouring his healing energy into my broken body. Mikael with tears of grief pouring down his face. My choice was made, and I was suddenly back in my body.

“I’m sorry, Audrey, but healing souls is beyond my power…”

What power was he talking about? I still couldn’t speak, couldn’t open my eyes. Everything hurt. He lowered me onto the bed and laid his head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat. He started to pull away from me, but I finally managed to move, wrapping my arms around him weakly.

He froze. Hope filled his voice. “Audrey?”

I clutched at him tighter, and he moved so that he was lying next to me, cradling me in his arms. “It’s okay, Audrey. I’m here, I’m here.”

“Audrey?” It was Raphael’s voice, and it flooded me with memories of dying. Quiet but terrified sounds issued from the back of my throat.

He tried again. “Audrey, you are home. You are safe.”

Yes. Home. Safe. Raphael was here, Mikael was here. I was safe. My eyes fluttered open and my heart surged with joy and relief when I saw his face. Then my gaze dropped to his white shirt, rumpled and soaked in blood. Was it my blood? Or the blood of the cult members?

No. That was impossible.

The image of Raphael as an avenging angel came back to me, and I swear I saw him that way again. Standing in my bedroom at Astrea, glowing with wings sprouting from his back. I clutched harder to Mikael as I shrank away from him.

Pain flashed through Raphael’s eyes. “Audrey, I saved you. I’m not trying to hurt you.”

I blinked several times. One moment he had wings, the next moment he didn’t. I was losing my mind. Of course Raphael would never hurt me.

Mikael held me tight and reassured me. “It’s okay, Audrey. Raphael would never hurt you.” Then to Raphael, “She’s been through a trauma. She needs time.”

“Of course, I’ll go.” He sounded so broken that my heart shattered.

“Wait!” I cried out. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Audrey. Would you like me to take away the memory?”

I blinked up at him as he approached. “What?”

“I can take away the memory of what you saw.”

“How?”

He gave me a sad smile. “The same way Mikael healed you. There are things about us that you don’t know. Your memories will be recoverable, but this will give your mind a chance to heal before we confront all that.”

“No.” I shook my head as a vision of my mother in a verdant meadow flashed through my mind. “Don’t take my memories. Just…. Hold me for a moment?”

Mikael released me as I was engulfed in Raphael’s arms. I clung to him as if my life depended on it. He had saved me. Twice now. The memory of him catching me when I had fallen swirled through my mind. I had no idea what he was or if my mind had been playing tricks on me in that church, but to the very core of my soul, I knew that this being would never hurt me. None of them would. The tears started as my body began to shake, a delayed reaction to the horror I had experienced.

A clatter in the hallway drew everyone’s attention. Mikael excused himself to check on it. I heard raised voices in the hallway. Mikael’s and David’s.

Snippets of the conversation floated in to me. Enough to discern that David had done something to the villagers and that Mikael wasn’t happy about it.

I pushed away from Raphael and looked up into his face. “Let him in. I want David. Please!”

I needn’t have asked. The next moment, he was barging through the door. “Audrey! Audrey, are you okay?”

I pushed myself up into sitting as he threw himself onto the bed. Another man covered in blood, but not mine. David hadn’t been there like Raphael and he wasn’t the one that had healed me like Mikael.

The cult members. The villagers. I instinctively knew whose blood it was and why. He hadn’t been there in time to rescue me, but he had avenged me, and I loved him for it.

“I think so,” I answered as he pulled my body this way and that, inspecting me for injuries. When he was satisfied that I was no longer dying, he embraced me fiercely as tears slipped down his face. “I thought we had lost you!”

“I’m here. I’m alive. Thanks to Raphael and Mikael.”

Raphael wrapped his arms around me from the other side, and the three of us sat that way for a long while.

When David pulled away to wipe the wetness from his face, I looked around the room to find Mikael standing awkwardly at the end of the bed. I gave him a weak smile. There was only one person missing.

Before I could ask where he was, Cassiel appeared in the doorway, as if summoned by my thoughts.

“How is she—” his question was cut short as his eyes fell on me sitting up in the bed.

He then did the most un-Cassiel thing I’d ever seen. A smile of relief and joy lit up his face as he bound across the room and leapt onto the bed unceremoniously knocking the other men out of his way as he scooped me into his arms and hugged me firmly against him while raining kisses on the top of my head. “Audrey, you’re alive!”

“Yes!” a laugh burst out of me despite the terror I’d been through. Cassiel acting like an over exuberant puppy was possibly even more surprising and unlikely than me being kidnapped by a deranged cult.

I looked around at the other three men, but none of them seemed upset at being displaced.

David was a little bemused while Raphael radiated nothing but happiness. Mikael wore a thoughtful expression as his eyes traveled from me to each of the other men.

The image of wings sprouting from Raphael’s back was still occasionally there when I gazed at him, but it was fading as I convinced myself that part had been a dream.

But I was healed. Raphael had managed to save me somehow. Mikael had done something to bring me back. Raphael had admitted to having powers. And David had somehow gotten to the village and back in a time frame that didn’t seem wholly possible.

I pushed all of that to the side. There would be time for questions later. I needed a shower. And food.

Cassiel released me and moved away as if suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I told him before requesting privacy for a shower.

I stood before the bathroom mirror and inspected my body. There were no cuts, scrapes, bruises, or other signs of the torture I had endured.

How was that possible?

I hugged myself for a moment before stepping under the spray of hot water. Whatever had happened, I was happy to be alive and whole again. At least physically.

When I emerged from the shower, there were fresh, clean sheets on my bed. I sank into it gratefully.

One by one, the guys showed back up. Mikael brought food with him. I devoured it. I guess almost dying works up an appetite. I noticed they had all showered and changed as well. All physical proof of my ordeal had been erased. My body had been healed. My mind and soul were going to take a little longer.

Cassiel was the first to move toward the door. “I guess we should get out of here and let you get some rest.”

My cheeks flamed red as I stared down at my comforter and asked, “Could one of you stay?”

David spoke up immediately. “I’ll stay!”

“We’ll take turns.” Mikael’s tone brooked no disagreement.

“Fine,” David acquiesced, “I’ll take the first shift.”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” Raphael said. “You’ve been through a horrible ordeal. It’s normal to need support.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be here in two hours to relieve you,” Cassiel told David, then turning his attention to me said, “We won’t leave you alone and I promise no one will ever hurt you again.”

Something in his tone made my heart race. I believed him.

The others trailed out of the room. Someone clicked the light off.

David gazed at me with the same intensity he always did, but all the playfulness was gone. “Tell me what you need, little witch.”

The familiar nickname earned a small smile from me as I snuggled into the covers. “Just talk to me until I fall asleep.”

“I can do that.”

“Would it be weird if I asked you to lay in the bed with me?”

His mischievous grin finally returned. “If I ever say no to that, go ahead and shoot me because I’ve clearly lost my mind.”

“Stop it,” I scoffed, “I’m serious!”

“So am I.”

He climbed into bed and tenderly wrapped his arms around me. As if he were afraid I would break. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” My body relaxed into his. I listened to the sound of his voice as the horror of the day receded a little.

As I slipped off to sleep, I knew one thing for certain. Everything bad that had ever happened to me had happened outside these walls. Whatever was going on in here, I was safe. I was surrounded by love. I was home.

#astreas broken heart

34 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 3 months ago

Text

These are so pretty!

Bad Romance Beach Vacation

Ok, before summer is over, I want to share these images that I've been collecting. I haven't written these guys in a while, but in my head, they've been relaxing all summer at the beach!

Riley and Max created this with the shells they've collected:

Riley:

The beach:

The beach at night:

Riley's outfits (and one for Ellie)

And this cake:

25 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 3 months ago

Text

@angelasscribbles bahahaha 😆 yes those are a few of your titles 😂

The King's Mistress

Series: None, this is a one-shot and you can find those here.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Rating: NSFW 🍋

Warnings for this chapter: Slight Lemons, infidelity

Word Count: 822

My other stuff: Master List.

Story is under the cut.......

The Duchess of Valtoria was perched on the edge of an expansive mahogany desk with her head thrown back and her elegant evening gown hiked up around her waist, moans of ecstasy spilling out of her as the king stood with his pants tangled around his ankles thrusting into her. Her perfectly manicured nails sank into his ass, spurring him on.

He had been waiting for a moment alone with her all damn day. Sitting next to her for two hours in the budget meeting had been bad enough, but then she had shown up at the annual Ambassador’s Ball in a dress that ought to be criminal. Holding her in his arms on the dance floor while maintaining proper decorum had been excruciating. Getting her somewhere private had jumped to number one on his priority list.

Her screams filled his ears as his eyes locked on her face, watching the rapturous euphoria of her release dance across her features. She cried out his name as he spilled himself inside her.

“Riley…” his lips brushed the side of her neck as a hand tangled in her hair pulled her closer.

He couldn’t get enough of her. He was bewitched by the way she loved with such wild abandon. She cared nothing for the intrigues of the court or the judgments of others. She was a wild thing, free in a way he longed to be.

He had been surrounded his entire life by crown chasers and sycophants, but Riley was different.

Maybe the raging inferno she ignited within him was love, or perhaps she represented the path he had almost chosen before duty and sacrifice had landed him right back where he started.

Either way, she had chosen him when she’d had no idea who he was. And that meant something to him.

He stepped away from her reluctantly and pulled his pants up. “I should get back before my wife sends a search party to find me.”

Riley made a face as she scooted to the edge of the desk. A slight sound of displeasure issued from the back of her throat.

He took her hand and helped her to her feet. Despite his assertation that he was needed back in the ballroom forthwith, he took his time carefully and tenderly helping her adjust her dress back into place. His fingers kept making detours to trail down a bare arm or trace across the back of her neck.

When her clothes were righted, his hands ran once again through her now tousled hair. “Sorry, I made a mess of that updo.”

“It’s ok,” she laughed as she plucked the few remaining clips free and shook her head, sending waves of riotous curls cascading down her back. “But I am going to need a little help fixing it.”

“Hm.” A bright smile lit up his face as humor danced through his ocean blue eyes. “I command armies, negotiate with dictators, and the Cordonian stock market can rise or fall based on my mood, but alas, I am utterly helpless in the face of a hair emergency.”

“I know!” She gave him a playful slap on the shoulder, “But I left my phone in my clutch, which is back in the ballroom…”

His grin widened. “It’s ok, I’ve got you.” He produced his phone and brandished it in front of her. “Hana?”

“Hana,” she agreed with a nod.

His fingers flew across the phone pad as he sent a text to Bastien Lykel, the head of his king’s guard, to find and escort Lady Hana Lee to his office.

“She’s on her way. I hate to leave you, but I really do need to get back. The ambassador from Rival—”

“It’s fine, go.” She waved him away as she headed for the attached bathroom to check on her makeup. Being seen re-entering the ballroom together would just cause more whispers anyway.

Not that the entire country didn’t already know. They hadn’t been that discreet. Their relationship was an open secret at court. She was the maîtresse-en-titre as the French would say. The king’s official royal mistress, complete with all the money, titles, land, and security that provided.

She knew that what she gave him in return was more than sex. It was companionship, romantic intimacy, advice, conversation, and a shoulder to lean on when he needed it.

He had married for political reasons, family obligations, and tradition. There was no love between the king and queen.

Still, this wasn’t where she saw her life going when she met him on that cruise ship and mistook him for a broke college student.

His voice stopped her before she made it through the door. “Hey, Riley?”

She turned back toward him. “Yeah?”

That grin that always sent butterflies shocking through her broke out across his face. “I love you.”

She returned his smile as he retreated into the hallway. “I love you too, Leo.”

49 notes · View notes

harleybeaumont · 3 months ago

Text

Damn that was good! I swear you always blow me away with your writing!

And… SNEAKY BITCH strikes again! 🤣

You had me going for a while!! I was like “ocean blue eyes” ? Ok no definitely not Liam! So glad it didn’t end up being Constantine lol

You know I love some Leo ❤️❤️❤️