#trh fic

[clumsyclifford]

the reckless hearts

pairings: michael clifford/calum hood, michael clifford/harry styles (temporary), alex gaskarth/jack barakat, assorted minor pairings

rating: T

total word count: 53.7k

important tags: summer camp support staff AU, strangers to friends to lovers, ensemble fic, friendship, fluff, angst, hookup culture, bittersweet ending, galaxy hair michael

warnings: N/A

summary:

“And you’re what?” Michael asks, before giving Calum a once-over. “Logistics, I bet.” Obviously Michael hadn’t been tuned into his surroundings when Calum had given his brief introduction. “Yeah.” “Mike, I literally told you about Calum,” says Alex. “Did you?” Michael asks. Understanding dawns on his face. “Oh, you’re Calum, Alex’s roommate.”

-

(Or: summer camp AU, but make it support staff.)

Well. Here it is. The big ensemble summer camp fic I've been writing for over three years. This is the longest fic I have ever written. It is my passion project and my beloved child. Enjoy.

CHAPTER I // CHAPTER II // CHAPTER III // CHAPTER IV // CHAPTER V // CHAPTER VI // CHAPTER VII // CHAPTER VIII // CHAPTER IX // CHAPTER X // CHAPTER XI // CHAPTER XII // CHAPTER XIII // CHAPTER XIV // CHAPTER XV // CHAPTER XVI // CHAPTER XVII

[sfb123]

Leaping to Conclusions

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry

Summary: The pressure to produce an heir is getting to Liam and Riley, leading them to turn to some unconventional methods.

Rating: PG, Adult Language

Word Count: 1,395

A/N: This fic is insanity guys, I'm not even going to pretend it's anything but. I learned the most absurd fun fact this week, and after sharing it with pretty much everyone I know, @ao719 convinced me that it needed to be a fic, and here we are.

For the record, this story doesn't take place in any of my timelines. My Liam and Riley can be weird, but never this weird. 😂

I am participating in @choicesflashfics, the prompt: “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?” will appear in bold below.

And finally, nobody has pre-read this, so apologies in advance for my horrendous grammar, and anything else about it that sucks.

Riley’s eyes fluttered open as she felt Liam’s lips trailing slowly across her shoulder. She moaned softly and arched back into him. 

“Good morning, love.” He whispered huskily into her ear. 

“When it starts like this it is.” She replied, reveling in the attention she was receiving from her husband. 

As his hand traveled up her body, her stomach started to lurch. Her hand flew to her mouth and she leapt out of his arms and rushed to the bathroom of their guest room in the Walker ranch. Liam sat up and watched with worry as the door slammed shut. 

After a few moments, Liam stood and approached the door. He could hear his wife on the other end, and he knew exactly what was going on. He rapped gently on the door. “Riley, are you alright? Can I get you anything?”  

The only response he received were a few more retching noises, followed by the toilet flushing. Soon after, the door opened, and Liam met Riley’s red, blotchy eyes. “Sorry.” 

Liam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her flush against him. “You don’t have to apologize, it’s not your fault.” They stood there in silence as Liam held her. “Riley, do you think you may need to take a test?” 

Since the royal couple had gotten married, they’d been facing pressure to produce an heir. While they did not take their positions as monarchs lightly, for them, it was more about building a family together. 

“It wouldn’t hurt.” Riley shrugged before returning to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Liam took a seat at the end of the bed to wait for her. 

“Oh no!” Liam stood and rushed back to the door at Riley’s cry. She came back into the bedroom, more distraught than she had been before. “I dropped the test in the toilet.” She buried her head in her hands. 

Liam chuckled slightly, as he wrapped his arm around her. He had read that pregnancy hormones could cause overreactions; he assumed, hoped, that was why she was so upset. “It’s alright, just take another one.”

“Liam, it was the last one!” She snapped.

He stepped back, shocked by her aggression. “That’s alright, we can go into town and get more.” 

“Are you kidding?!” Riley threw her hands up in frustration before moving to the bed and dropping down, burying her face in the pillow. “The press has been all over us, the last thing I need is for them to get a picture of me buying pregnancy tests!” 

Liam sat beside her on the bed, rubbing her back gently as he racked his brain for a solution. “I’ve got it!” 

Riley rolled over and sat up, leaning against the headboard. “What?” 

“We’re in Texas, surely there is a frog around here somewhere.” He said as he moved to the dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans. 

“Liam, this is no time to go wildlife gazing, I might be carrying the heir!” Riley chided him.

“Love calm down, the frog will be able to tell us.” He said matter of factly as he continued to get dressed. 

Her face contorted into a confused expression. “Wait a second. Pause and rewind … what did you just say?” 

He sat beside her on the bed and slid on his boots. “For about twenty years, starting in the nineteen forties, before the pregnancy tests we are familiar with today, there was the Hogben test. A British zoologist, Lancelot Hogben, discovered that when urine samples from pregnant women were injected into frogs, the frog would spawn eggs within eighteen hours. It was the most rapid and reliable pregnancy test of the time.” 

Riley stared at her husband in stunned silence. “How the fuck do you even know that?” 

“I like history.” He shrugged. 

Still befuddled by her husband’s solution, Riley took a deep breath. “So you want to inject a frog with my pee, and then in 18 hours either nothing happens and I’m not pregnant, or I am pregnant and we also have a hundred and seventy two frog eggs?” 

“They’re called frogspawn, love.” He corrected. 

She slapped her palm against her forehead. “Yeah, because that’s the most crucial thing in this conversation.”

“I’m sorry, force of habit,” Liam smiled sheepishly. “Would you like to try it? It’s a fascinating concept, I would be interested to see it in action.” 

“Liam, I don’t even want to touch a frog, let alone do science experiments on it.”

“I’ll take care of everything,” he insisted. “I’ll just need your… well, your um… sample.” 

Riley chuckled when Liam started to get flustered. “Alright, if it’ll make you happy, and all I have to do is pee in a cup, then let’s give it a try.” 

Liam grinned and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Riley’s lips. “Excellent!”

“I guess Kermit was right, it’s not easy being green.” Riley said, shaking her head. 

Liam made his way to a nearby pond in search of the perfect frog. His eyes roamed the banks in search of his test subject. “If I were a frog, where would I be?” 

Finally, he noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see a frog seated on a nearby rock. “Perfect.” He stalked toward his prey, making sure to stay as quiet as possible. 

Liam was so laser focused that he didn’t notice Drake coming up behind him, curiously observing the actions of his best friend. “Li, what the fuck are you doing?” 

Drake’s words startled Liam and before he had time to catch himself, he tumbled over into the pond as the frog lept away. Drake cackled as the King of Cordonia sat waist deep in the pond glaring at him. 

“Sorry,” Drake apologized as he reached down, helping Liam out of the water. “But seriously, what are you doing?”

“Riley might be pregnant,” he answered.

Drake furrowed his brow, even more confused now that he had the explanation. “Okay, so you decided to go frog hunting to celebrate?” 

“No, we lost the test,” he responded. When Drake continued to stare at him with a blank expression, Liam sighed and explained the Hogben test just as he had done for Riley earlier. 

“And Brooks agreed to go along with this?” Drake chuckled.

“We would do anything for eachother.” 

Drake rolled his eyes and moved toward the pond. A few moments later he returned with a frog. 

“How did you do that?” Liam marveled. 

“You had your training growing up, I had mine.” He shrugged in reply. 

Liam took the frog from Drake, thanking him for his efforts and began walking back to the house. 

“I’ve gotta see this.” Drake said to himself as he followed Liam. 

Liam entered the house heading toward the stairs, until he saw Riley sitting with Madeleine on the living room couch. When he stepped up to them, he noticed the crestfallen expression on his wife’s face. 

“Love, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m not pregnant,” she responded, her eyes trained on the floor. 

“But how do you know? I’ve got the frog right here.” He held it up to show her. 

Madeleine stood from the couch, glaring in confusion and disgust at the sight in front of her. “When I was in town this morning, I bought some tests. I figured you would need them.” 

“Oh Riley,” Liam moved to Riley, outstretching his arms. 

“Liam,” she held a hand up to stop him from getting any closer. “You’re slimy, and wet… and holding a frog.” 

“Oh, right.” Liam looked down at himself, and the frog in his hands. “I should shower. Care to join me?” He asked slyly. 

“Um… maybe you should handle this one solo,” she cringed. 

Liam handed the frog over to Madeleine, who grabbed it instinctively. He signaled for Riley to follow him, and they made their way up the stairs to the bedroom.

“So you’re not going to pee on a frog?” Drake called out as they exited the room. 

“Ugh,” Madeleine groaned. “None of this would be happening if I were queen.” She turned to Drake, thrusting the frog in his direction. “Make yourself useful and deal with this thing.” She stormed out of the room, mumbling to herself, questioning where things went wrong for her.

Drake looked down at the frog with a grin. “God I love Texas.”  

Permatag:

@3pawandme @alj4890 @busywoman @charlotteg234 @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @differenttyphoonwerewolf @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @imashybish @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @malblk21 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

Liam:

@amandablink @custaroonie @jared2612

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @the0afnan

@choicesficwriterscreations @choicesflashfics

[angelasscribbles]

Heir Apparent Chapter 20: Asked and Answered

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Drake x Riley, Liam x Riley (past)

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language

Word count: 1,625

A/N: Every time I think I know where this is heading and how it's going to end, I'm wrong. The characters keep doing their own thing. Half the time I'm surprised when I'm in the middle of writing what I wanted to happen and suddenly something else comes out. Anyway, I already know some of you are going to yell at Liam lol. Sorry/not sorry. I can't help it, I apparently can't control my own damn characters.

Everything else: Master List.

“Whatever it is, just spit it out already!” Riley was unable to take the frustration and suspense any longer.

Her husband had been acting squirely ever since the press conference. He was clearly agitated about something, but he wasn’t forthcoming with details of whatever it was.

“I thought we agreed we were telling each other everything from now on,” she reminded him.

Drake ran a hand nervously through his hair as he took in her demeanor, hand on her hip, a frown on her face, worry in her eyes.

He had to ask her, right? If for no other reason than to settle the whole thing once and for all.

“Yeah, okay, right,” he gestured to the cream-colored loveseat in the middle of the sitting room, inviting her to sit.

She took a seat and looked up at him expectantly, “Well?”

“Well…I…” he took a moment to quell the shaking in his hand as he drew in a fortifying breath, and took the seat next to her. Taking her hand in his, he decided to just spit out quickly, “I just wanted to know if you…if you wanted a Cordonian Arrangement.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s an addition to the marriage vows, basically a formal agreement opening the marriage-“

She pulled her hand out of his and her body jerked away from him as hurt and anger bubbled up in her heart, “You want to see other people?”

“What? No!” panic swept through him as he tried to explain, “It’s not for me, it’s for you!”

“What do you mean? You’re not making any sense! You want me to see other people?”

“Only if you want to…”

She stared at him as shock and confusion swam through her, “I don’t understand, Drake, why would you think I wanted to see anyone else?”

“Not just anyone, Riley…this would be a way for you to maintain a relationship with Liam….if you wanted to...” he trailed off, sighing with defeat.

“I don’t! Why would you think-“ she stopped midsentence as the answer presented itself to her, “Fucking Liam! This was his idea, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but-“

“But what, Drake?” She sprang to her feet and stalked away from him, “Are you seriously trying to pimp me out to your best friend right now? Is that what’s happening?”

“No! God…no! This isn’t what I want, but if it’s what you want then-“

“Then what?” She whirled on him, fury blazing from her eyes, “You’d be okay with sharing me with him?”

“No!” He leapt out of his seat as a maelstrom of emotions exploded in his chest, “I told you, this isn’t what I want! But Liam said-“

She made her way back to him with record speed, “I don’t care what Liam said, Drake! You’re my husband, not Liam!”

“I know that Riley but-“

Face red and shaking with fury, she yelled, “I know I fucked up in Vegas, Drake and I’m sorry! I don’t know how many more ways I can make that clear to you! When are you going to stop punishing me for it?”

“Punishing you?” His mouth fell open incredulously, “No, I’m not! That’s not what this…how the hell would letting you continue to sleep with Liam be me punishing you?”

She drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself as she realized he was being serious and forthright, not snarky or sarcastic, “Because, Drake….the fact that you really thought I would want this…that I would say yes to it hurts me!”

“I….” he raked a hand through his hair as relief crashed through him, “it does?”

“Fuck, Drake, yes!” tears spilled down her face, “of course it does!”

He reached for her and drew her into his arms, “Baby, why are you crying?”

“Because it’s my own damn fault that you think that!”

“I’m sorry, please don’t cry. Don’t blame yourself for this.”

She hiccupped a little as she drew away from him, “Oh, I don’t. Not for this! I’m blaming Liam for this!”

“He was just-“

“Just what, Drake? Just putting doubts in your head? After everything we’ve overcome? It’s not okay!”

“I really don’t think he meant-“

“Are you defending him?”

“Um…” he took in the fury in her eyes, “….no…”

She picked up her phone and started dialing.

“Riley, are you sure you should do this right now? Maybe you should-“

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!”

“I wasn’t!”

He absolutely had been.

When Liam answered she barely gave him a chance to say hello, “Did you tell my husband to ask for a Cordonian Arrangement?”

“Uh…” in his private office, Liam gestured for the press secretary to leave and give him some privacy.

“Well?” Riley demanded, “Did you?”

As soon as he was alone, Liam leaned back in his chair with a defeated sigh, “I take it by the tone of your voice that the answer is no.”

“Of course, the answer is no, Liam! I thought we’d made a breakthrough in therapy last week! How could you possibly think any of us are ready for something like that? Huh? Drake and I are trying to put our lives back together and I need to focus on the baby right now!”

The sinking disappointment in his chest made a U-turn. He cleared his throat and sat upright, “I apologize, Riley. You’re absolutely right. We did make a breakthrough and I heard you.”

You said you still loved me.

“Okay, good,” she was mollified a little. “If you care about my happiness, or his, please back off and stop this.”

“Absolutely. I promise!” I promise to back off for now.

She said none of them were ready for such a step, not that such a step would never be possible. She said she needed to focus on the baby for now, not that their relationship, such as it was, would never be on the table for discussion.

He was a patient man. Time was on his side. She wasn’t going anywhere. They were going to be coparenting for a long time.

He realized that what he wanted might never happen, but he was all about calculated risk.

It wasn’t even that he wanted to have sex with her again. Of course, he did, but that wasn’t really the point. Sex was easy enough to come by.

He wanted her love. If that took the form of a deep and close friendship, he would settle for that.

He wanted her to trust him again. He wanted her to like him again. He wanted to be a part of her life again. A real part, not just someone on the periphery, an outsider looking in.

He wanted to be a part of his child’s life, a real part, not just a weekend father or an obligation, an amorphous authority figure to please like his own father had been.

To have a good relationship with his child, he had to have a good relationship with the child’s mother. That was common sense.

Riley seemed to think he was an impediment to her marriage and that was the opposite of what he’d been trying to do.

With sudden clarity he realized that the only way to accomplish both of his goals was to repair his relationship with Drake.

Not that he didn’t want to do that for the sake of their lifelong friendship anyway. It was just difficult overcoming all the emotional obstacles that lay in their path.

But just as he knew he needed to repair things with Riley in order to have the best relationship possible with his child, he realized that he needed to repair things with Drake if he had any hope of salvaging anything from the wreckage of what was left of his relationship with the woman he loved.

What a tangled mess the three of them had made.

He supposed he had Drake to thank for her staying in Cordonia so there was that. Of course, if not for Drake she would be married to him right now, by her own admission.

Not happily, though. He had to remind himself of the other part of their conversation.

She still resented him for what had transpired on coronation night and in the days and weeks following.

Of course she had fallen in love with the man that has swooped in and rescued her, the one that had been there for her, the one that could, and had, claimed her publicly. The one that had literally taken a bullet for her.

Drake had been willing to die to protect her, and he almost had.  

Liam would have been willing to throw himself in front of a bullet for her, but he knew he’d never have been allowed to. Security would have tackled him to the ground before he could have moved.

The same moment Drake had been saving Riley’s life, Liam had been drug from the dais and pulled out the door of the ballroom.

As these thoughts poured through his head, he had an epiphany. He had made the right decision not to marry at all regardless of if Riley ever consented to enter into an extramarital relationship with him or not because he simply had nothing to offer a potential wife other than the danger that came with the crown.

Riley was right. He would never be able to put her, or any woman for that matter, first. Cordonia was a harsh mistress and she demanded everything from him.

His jaw set as he determined that the same would not happen to his child. He would make sure of it. And he would make it up to Riley somehow, even if it took the rest of his life to do so.

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 4

New? Check out the first THREE chapters HERE! (Go ahead; we'll be here. 😉)

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Drake heads to Club Core with Leo; he unexpectedly meets a young woman that reminds him of a past life.

Pairing(s): mention of Liam x Riley; Drake x Riley (former)

Word Count: ~4970

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 language (tons; it's Drake); sexual references (crude); mention of excessive drinking; drug-use reference; brief violence

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! If you are new, hi! Thank you for joining us! This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Although this is from my crazy mind, it takes a village! Huge thanks to my sweet writing buddies for helping me figure out various parts! Love y'all! Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Drake

What the fuck was I thinking? I hate large crowds and eardrum-piercing music. I hate being around people who can't hold their liquor, not to mention I hate dancing. But even worse, I hate Leonardo Anselm Phineas Rys. Old thorn in my side. What in the actual fuck made me agree to hang out with blondie in the first place? At a club? On opening night?

Because you're lonely, and he offered free booze…

My twisted expression relaxes as I shrug my shoulders. Meh. I guess it could be worse.

"Okay, baby… I'll be home later… yes… I'll tell Liam you said, 'hello'..." Leo gives an obnoxious kissing sound before disconnecting his call with the touch of a button. He lets out a sigh, taking a hit of his vape pen. "Dahlia," he answers to the question I never asked. He glances at me, sucking in his bottom lip before giving me a slow flutter of a wink.  "She's a bit clingy."

I nod, drumming my fingers against the leather interior, playing it cool like I care. "Is… she your–?"

"Friend."

Ah. Okay. 'Friend.'  The term just glides off of his tongue. Nonchalant. Sweet and syrupy, almost as if he believes the bullshit he's feeding this poor girl that's waiting at home for him. 

And she thinks what now? That he's coming over after an evening with his brother's family which, no doubt, she has never met. And judging by that brief interaction with goldie locks here, she doesn’t seem to have the intellectual capacity to wonder why she wasn't invited to the dinner in the first place.

Side-piece. Booty-call. Friend. It's all just semantics to douchebags like Leo Rys.

I fidget with the navy collar to the button-down shirt Leo loaned me. I could barely fit my broad shoulders into the lean cut of his tailored threads. The guy has a rock hard physique, but tough, manual labor creates a different kind of body. A strong one. Like mine.

The buttons pull slightly across my chest as I flash a glance in the car visor mirror. I look like a fucking tool. I'm not used to my stubble brushing up against starched cotton; I'm usually wearing a tee, my work denim and my steel-toes. I mean, unless I'm meeting with a client or going out to dinner where you have a waiter and utensils. But, other than that, I am a fish out of water: this shirt is uncomfortable. And I have a feeling this is just a prelude of what's to come.

At least Leo approved of my jeans and Tecovas. He tried throwing my trusty chambray shirt in the trash.  "No one has worn this for at least twenty years… and they weren't even wearing it then."

Fuck off.

We pull up to this club, and I swear everyone in Cordonia has turned out for this spectacle. The moment Rys steps out of his 'I didn't want anything too flashy' red Ferrari, the paps were on him like white on rice. Flashes of light rain from every direction as reporters flood him with curious questions about his Gucci loafers and gray Brioni blazer. 

Lucky for me, I'm a nobody, and the press quickly discovers that the moment I step out onto the red carpet. Dropping their cameras and microphones in disappointment, they instantly turn their attention elsewhere.  I don't know if I should be grateful… or offended, to be honest. At least confuse me for Leo's new lover… bunch of dickwads.

I push past the commotion, combing my hair out of my eyes as I look around the red carpet. This place is pretty snazzy, but holy fuck, they didn't spare with any expenses. It’s like a fucking fortress: a tall, wrought iron fence encased with stone surrounds the perimeter. Armed security in black tie a la James Bond swarm the space.

Now, the entrance? This wasn't just any ol’ red carpet; oh, fuck no, that wouldn't do for such a prestigious guest list. Contortionists and acrobats on pedestals perform sultry poses and maneuvers, leaving the crowd bewildered and amazed. 

Scantily clad women tend to the average Joe commoners waiting in line. They serve hors d'oeuvres and complimentary spirits, fooling them into thinking they're still important even though they're on the outskirts of the main event, and truth be told: they'll never get in.

Taking it all in, I suddenly feel a massive clap against my back before an arm hugs tightly around my neck.

"Ready, Walker?" Leo pops his gum in between his smarmy grin. "Let's get our dicks wet."

—

Fucking. A. I'm pretty sure I just entered the third level of hell.

"Hey-yo, Walker!" 

Make that the fourth level…

I glance back at Rys who is now flocked with an entourage of, and I quote, ‘aspiring models,’ all with their fake tits falling out of their tops, their overly-injected blow-job lips, and lashes so thick, you can't tell if they're sleeping or having a stroke.  He flashes those pearly whites as he dangles a small, gram-size plastic bag of white powder.

Now, I'm not against tokin' up or getting obliterated with alcohol, but cocaine isn't my style… not to mention, if we got caught–no doubt, Leo knows people that could bail us out, but if Liam and Riley were to hear about this? They'd kick me to the curb in an instant, especially with their kid around. They’d label me as a bad influence, and Liam would give me that fatherly disappointment glare.

"What do you think, Walker?" Leo nods with eager anticipation. "Wanna join… all of us?" He lets out a knowing laugh, winking at the women around him. They take his cue and begin to giggle, as if he was the funniest, most charming man they've ever met.

And my IQ just dropped two points.

"I think… I'm going to… " I notice a large bar area, quickly throwing a hitched thumb back at it. "...I'll check out the bar," 

"Suit yourself." The women practically swallow him whole with their arms. "Don't forget: give 'em my name. Drinks on me!"  

The drove of venereal diseases buzzes off with their king, and a sense of relief washes over me. Would I rather be at home? Absolutely, but since I'm already here…

I make my way toward the crowded bar area, ducking between drunken cat fights and groping couples. Finding a stool, I plant my ass down, and despite how busy it is, the bartender tends to me quickly–probably because I'm a 45- year-old man alone in a club. Translation: I have money, I know what I want, and chances are, what I order doesn't require my rim being bedazzled with seasonings, flowers, or fruit.

"What can I get ya?"

Oh, shit, I haven't heard that distinct nasally Portavira accent in so long. My God…

"Um… Larceny. Neat."

"Double?"

My man… I nod as I watch him pull out the bottle and a clean tumbler.

"Do you have a tab started, sir?"

I reach for my wallet, but I abruptly stop, remembering Leo's words. 'Give 'em my name. Drinks on me!'

"I do. It's under Rys," I smirk, "and actually, do you have Macallan?"

The bartender stops, giving me a glance over when finally a Cheshire grin creeps across his face as if he just struck oil. "We sure do, Mr. Rys." He extends his hand to fist bump me before reaching to the top shelf for a new bottle of the liquid gold. Before I knew it, he's twirling the tumbler across the bar. "Enjoy, Mr. Rys."

Taking a sip, I give him a wink as a thank you as I bask in the much needed woodsy burn of clove on my tongue. Damn, that's tasty.

Feeling more relaxed, I glance out onto the dance floor as other club-goers get lost in the hypnotic buzz of the ethanol electrifying their veins. The tantric beat of the music and the flashing swirl of multicolored lights feeds the adrenaline and raging hormones as people grab and grope one another.

I am way too old for this scene.

I grab my glass to take another pull when out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar face at the bar. Turning my head to get a better look, I suddenly swallow my whiskey down the wrong pipe, causing me to fall into a fit of coughs. Smooth, Walker, real smooth. 

Blinking back the tears, I sniff into a napkin before looking back at the beautiful face. Shit. She's absolutely…wow. Gorgeous dark, silky waves, porcelain skin, that pouty mouth with those big, doe eyes… She's the spitting image of… Riley. 

"Fuck," I growl at myself before rubbing the shit out of my eyes. No way, it can't be. I look up again, and instantly I can feel my jeans begin to tighten. 

You're just wanting to see her. You're just wanting it to be her, especially with what happened back at the palace.

I down the rest of my drink before allowing my attention to be completely saturated by this girl. 

It's not Riley. It's not…

See? Her nose appears more prominent from the side, and-and her neck. Her neck seems longer, slender. And her eyes. They're gorgeous and big… they aren't Riley's navy blues, but damn, that sparkle–

"Would you like another–?"

"Please," I grumble as I stare at this Riley look-alike. I just… can't tear my eyes away. Her presence feels so real, so intimate. Now, judging from this woman's creamy, velvet skin, she's young. Maybe early 20s. Way out of my league… but still that face. It's like looking into a past life, a life I once loved.

—

(Two decades ago…)

"Brooks," Drake whispers loudly, "come on!"

"Shhhh!" Riley presses a finger to her lips, stifling her giggles as she looks down from her palace window. "Are you trying to wake everyone up? You're going to get me into trouble."

"You are trouble, lady."

Riley looks back at the commoner, the glint of mischief in his eyes making her adrenaline pump faster through her veins. "Now are you sure about this?" She bites her lip, "you'll catch me if–"

"For the hundredth time, yes," Drake rolls his eyes, holding his arms out wide. 

Since Drake's confession to Riley at Applewood, the two of them have been enjoying each other's company, especially after hours. They flirt with danger, sharing in kisses that they swear will never happen again for obvious reasons: she is there to pursue Liam and his hand in marriage; Drake is his best friend.

After watching Liam share a kiss with Riley, a dam of excruciating jealousy broke in Drake's heart. He already shared with Riley before that he was developing feelings for her, but now, it was… something else. Something more.

During dinner, the commoner passed her a note, asking her to meet him outside her window after midnight because they needed to talk.

Riley is staying in the guest quarters off the West Wing with the other suitors. She's only on the second floor, but still, a jump from that high could be dangerous. So, Drake helped the brunette construct a climbing rope with her top sheet. 

"I've got ya. Just… ease yourself over."

Riley takes one step at a time, following Drake's directions; but when she gets close to the ground, she looks back at Drake, raising an eyebrow, then jumps. 

"Whoa!" Drake stumbles as Riley crashes into his chest, his arms quickly cradling her close. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Riley giggles, combing her fingers through Drake's thick hair. "Sometimes a girl just wants to be caught."

Their eyes lock on one another, Drake's hand finding her cheek. He gently rubs his thumb across her soft skin, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into his touch.

"Come with me," he whispers softly while grabbing her hand.

"Wait… I thought we were going to talk–"

"I want to show you something." Riley gives him a curious glare. "It's a surprise," he smirks, pulling her to follow him.

They walk silently, hand-in-hand across the grounds, playfully gazing back-and-forth at one another–that is, until all a sudden a bright flashlight skims over where they are walking.

"Who goes there?" A palace guard bellows.

"Brooks, take off your flip-flops," Drake commands under his breath, watching the guard in the distance.

"What? Why?"

"Just trust me," he squeezes her fingers. 

Riley quickly kicks them off, holding them in her hands. "Okay… now what?"

Drake grabs her hand again, his grip tight. "Run!" Giving her a warning tug, they both take off across the wet lawn, Riley following Drake's lead.

"Where… are we… going?" She pants, laughter bubbling from her chest.

"You'll see," Drake chuckles, "but we have to lose Barney Fife first!"

Dodging the glow of the searching lights, Drake and Riley finally make it to a large wall of greenery. Finding an entry, they pass through the walkway and hide behind the vines and leaves.

Drake looks to see if they finally lost the guards, but Riley takes a moment to look around the thicket they just entered. 

"Whoa," her eyes widen as she looks at the well-manicured covert. "Where… where are we?"

"It's… a maze. A hedge maze that we used to play in as kids."

"Are you serious?" She meanders down a corridor, looking around a corner. "It's so dark. Did you ever get lost?"

Drake chuckles, reaching into his pocket. "Plenty of times." He saunters closer to Riley, pulling out a flashlight and handing it to her. The air crackles around them as the charm of the blue moon ignites the twinkle in their eyes. Drake lowers his voice into a deep gravel. "Come get lost with me, Riley Brooks."

With that, he smiles and takes off jogging, Riley staying close behind. "Hey, not so fast Drake." She turns a corner and notices his denim shirt discarded on the grass. "You lost your shirt."

"Did I now?" He snickers. "Can you bring it to me?"

Riley scoffs into a giggle as she continues through the maze at the sound of his voice. "Maybe if you'd stop running away–"

"Maybe if you weren't so slow–"

"Hey!" Riley chides, "I just jumped out of a window–" she falls silent as finds Drake's belt tossed on the ground.  She collects it in her hand, biting her bottom lip. "Drake?"

"You're getting warm," he teases. Riley stumbles through another corner, turning left, then right. The sounds of her toes in the grass compliment her heavy breathing as she stops again to the cooing of his voice. "Warmer, Brooks." 

She continues until suddenly, she notices a warm glow just up ahead. Her steps quicken until finally she reaches a small clearing in the maze that opens to a stunning backdrop of the star-filled sky. Gas-lit sconces illuminate the garden, revealing tapestries of vines and flowers fixed to wooden lattice work amongst the bushes.

"Wow," Riley gasps, her eyes glowing with the wonder all around her. "This is beautiful." She feels Drake's warm touch on her hand, their fingers lacing together. 

"Cmon," he tugs on her, "I want to show you something."

"There's more?" She giggles, following his lead. They walk a short, pebbled path until they are standing in front of a large gray-stoned well. Riley presses her fingertips to the cold marbled edges before looking down into the dark abyss. Her eyes shift to Drake, "Is this where you murder me?" He chuckles, shaking his head as she turns back to the well opening. "Hello!" She shouts, the echoes welcoming each other back and forth.  

"I'll be honest, Brooks." Riley looks back at Drake. "I'm kinda shocked Liam hasn't already brought you here. It's one of his favorite places to show off in the entire estate."

"Oh," Riley's eyebrows knit together with a pained expression. 

"Hey," Drake nudges her playfully. "What's with the long face?"

Riley snickers into a scoff before finally succumbing to tears. "I'm just exhausted," she pulls her hands to her face.

"Brooks," he pulls her into his comforting arms.

"This social season bullshit is just … it's really screwing with my head," she sniffles. "I've never been more insecure in all my life, and what for?" She wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, clearing her throat. "I wish I knew where I stood. I wish the competition was over. I wish–"

Drake reaches into his pocket, pulling out a couple of worn copper coins. He offers them to a confused Riley.

"Pennies?" She sniffles.

"Yeah," he chuckles, "I forgot to get rid of them when we were in New York. They're worthless here. No conversion."

Riley's lips begin to curl. "Then why keep them?"

Drake starts inspecting the coins in his hand, allowing them to softly clang together in his palm. "I read a book once–"

"--picture books don't count as reading."

"Ha. Ha." He smirks, feigning annoyance as he starts to jingle the coins in his hand. "I read that in ancient civilizations, finding random metals was a sign or a blessing from the gods."

"You see them everywhere back home. The streets, sidewalks," she snickers, "a whole cent. How generous of the gods."

"What? A penny isn't enough for you?" Drake playfully growls, slowly leaning closer to Riley.  She coyly bats her lashes, a soft titter in her throat. "Here." He puts a coin in her hand.

"What's this for?" Riley studies the trinket.

"For something bigger, citizens would offer the metal back to the gods, like a payment.  So they would say a silent prayer, then toss it–"

"--into a well," Riley softly finishes.

Drake nods over his shoulder to the stoned well. "Let's make your wishes count."

One by one, Drake and Riley silently take pennies, casting them into the well with unspoken hopes and dreams until every last coin was gone. Feeling his close proximity, Riley stares up into his dark eyes, getting lost into a charming stillness.

"What did you wish for?" She whispers.

Drake slowly shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

He offers a crooked grin. Combing his fingers into Riley's dark, espresso waves, his hand gently grips the back of her neck, pulling her closer. "All my wishes have already come true, Brooks."  He closes the space between them, their lips grazing one another. The feather-light touch instantly ignites a hunger, one they both feel and crave. Drake pulls back, chuckling under his breath as he fidgets with the hem of Riley's shirt. "So... why didn't you take off any clothes?"

Riley bites her bottom lip. "Maybe... because... I wanted my wish to come true." She pauses, her fingers tucking into the front pocket of Drake's jeans, pulling his hips flush against hers.

He swallows thickly. "Which is?"

"Take them off for me, Walker."

—

(Present)

Damnit.  I adjust myself in my jeans, but my cock always hardens at the memory of Riley and me that night. We fucked. A lot. But that night, our first night together, it was more than just sex. We made love.

I take a swig of my new drink that the bartender must've dropped off while I was taking a stroll down the boulevard of broken dreams when my eyes dart to my Riley look-alike.

And I feel my dick shrink.

She's with someone, some blond tool, probably named Chad, with a tool haircut that shops at Tools-R-Us with a matching trust fund. 

I sigh to myself, polishing the rest of my drink before staring at my empty glass. 

He is pretty hot; I don't blame her.

I glance at them one more time, kissing my own dirty fantasy away when I notice something odd. His hand is sternly gripped around her wrist, staring at her like she's his next meal. 

But her face tells a different story. She seems to be struggling, trying to tear her arm away from him. Those big, doe eyes are panicked, large as table saucers as she frantically looks for help. 

I sigh. Goddamnit...

I wipe a napkin across my mouth as I stand, my glare fixed on this commotion transpiring before me. I shrug my shoulders, loosening the tight fabric off my back as I stretch my muscles. Just in case.

I hurry my way through the dense crowd of patrons gathered around the bar. I flex my fingers, bending my wrist as I get closer.

Ah, shit. This is the part I'm bad at. What do I say first? 'Stop that!' No, that's lame. I need something clever, like maybe, 'Is there a problem here?' How about–

My clenched fist meets his jaw, knocking the asshole in one swing into a bartop table before he crashes down onto the floor.  He's so disoriented; he's trying to get up, but he keeps slipping on shards of glass, falling back into the pathetic rumple he calls his life.

Fuck. My hand. I know it will hurt like a bitch in a few minutes when my body depletes of adrenaline, but for right now, I'm basking in the moment. 

A smirk grows on my mouth, but it doesn't last for long. The young woman. I turn to the Riley look-alike, her terrified stare already fixed on me. Instinctively, I carefully put my hand on her shoulder. She's shaking.

"Excuse me, miss. Are you alright?"

Ho.ly. Fuuuuuuck. 

Brooks? Seeing her up close is almost painful; I can feel my balls beginning to ache.  This woman is hauntingly stunning: the subtle freckles on her nose, the curve of the bow to her top lip, even the flounce of her long, flirty eyelashes. She's beautiful; she's… like somebody I used to know…

The young woman shyly nods, but she's trembling. She's clearly not alright. 

And I suddenly possess this overwhelming need to take her in my arms, hold her tight and let her know she's safe. 

Calm down, Walker. 

"Let's get you away from this." I look up, noticing an open lounge-type area near the dance floor with large, plush couches. Offering my arm, she holds on tightly as we escape through the debris of the nightmare that just happened. Placing a reassuring hand on her back, I encourage her to sit. 

I, on the other hand, keep an eye on douche canoe who is being helped up by security and his friends. But, I don't think he'll be a problem for us anymore tonight.  He never got a good look at me, and even if he had, something tells me his ego would keep him away from telling the truth of who made him taste his own blood.

Turning towards the young woman, I notice she is anxiously looking around, her body on edge.  I tilt myself to her ear, shouting over the blaring music, "Are you here with anyone?" 

She nods, "B-but it's okay," she yells back, waving her hands. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

She fakes a smile, and my God, it knocks me back. Stunning.

Focus on her words, Walker...

"I don't exactly want to…" 

I don't quite understand the rest of her statement, her words lost in the heavy beat of the music. I give her an inquisitive look, causing her to careen towards my ear, her hand brushing across my shoulder.

And my cock twitches. Breathe, buddy…

"I said… I don't want to interrupt their fun." She motions aimlessly to the dance floor. Got it.

"Can I call someone for you? Family perhaps?"

Her eyes widen. "What? No, no." 

She grins, but it's clearly hiding her true feelings. Which is fine. I'm a complete stranger. Shit, she probably thinks I'm some creepy old man, hitting on her at the bar. And sure, maybe on a night where she wasn't assaulted, maybe I would've bought her a drink, asked for her number.

But the fact of the matter is this: I really don't feel comfortable leaving this girl alone. She  just got into a physical altercation with… whoever that guy was. Her boyfriend? Oh shit, husband? I look at her hand; I don't see a ring, but that doesn't mean anything. You never know these days. Still, she doesn't need to be by herself right now. She really doesn't need to be here, but again, who am I but another creep at the bar.

I run my fingers through my hair. Oh, what the hell. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

A hint of fear crosses her expression as she looks me over. 

I hold up my hands in defense before leaning over her shoulder. "I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone in a place like this," I shout, "especially with what happened with your boyfriend."

She takes a deep breath. She flashes those big, brown eyes at me before finally nodding in agreement. 

And my heart melts. 

I offer my hand. "Drake."

The corners of her lips curl as she takes my hand, leaning towards my ear. "Jake?" She yells.

I shake my head, facing her ear more directly. "Drake!" I holler over the deep thrumming of the bass.

She raises an eyebrow. "Jake?" 

Eh, close enough. I smile in agreement.

"I'm Nora," she smiles, already more relaxed.

"Nora?" I repeat, ensuring I heard her correctly. At least one of us should be called by our real names this evening. 

She nods innocently, a beautiful rosy pink painting her cheeks. "Oh, and, um… he's not my boyfriend."  A piece of her hair falls like liquid silk into her eyes as she looks down at her lap. She quickly shoos the wisp away, chasing it behind her ear before looking back at me, trying to figure out my angle. Am I here to hurt her? Flirt with her? Invite her home for a messy, drunken fuck?

Don't worry, sweetie, you're safe with me.

"American?"

She catches me off guard with that one. "Uh, yeah. How did you–?"

She points to her mouth, her lips perfectly rounded and plump, painted a deep crimson. Oh, duh. My watered-down accent. Toto, we're not in Texas anymore. It's hard to believe that at one point in my life, I actually sounded like these people. Every once in a while, the Cordonian beast pounces, but these days, I sound like the typical American mutt.

"Are you on vacation?" Nora asks.

I smirk, shaking my head. "I… moved here for work."

"To Cordonia?" She snickers. "Of all places?"

"Fair," I chuckle under my breath as I feel the heat rise up my neck. "I… grew up here, so I have… connections, friends and family. It makes for an easy transition. How about you?"

Her eyes brighten, like a pageant contestant being asked about world peace. "Cordonian. Born and raised."

"That's unfortunate," I joke. Sorta.

"Hey," she giggles, scrunching up her nose playfully.  She swats the back of her hand against my shoulder. The touch sends a shockwave of familiarity, robbing me of my breath. "I love Cordonia–"

"Spoken like a true Cordonian."

"And… what's wrong with that?"

Drake guffaws. "What isn't wrong with that?"

"Your tone is suggesting that there's something wrong with having pride in your country–"

"It's egotistical–"

"The only thing egotistical is thinking that your opinion about Cordonia is the only opinion to be had." She furrows her brows. "If you hate it so much, why did you come back?"

Shit. She's feisty. And this conversation has gone completely off the rails.  I can't tell if she's really pissed… or if I'm just really turned on and wanting a sparring match. 

Fuck. You just had to be a jackass…

"Okay, truth?" I offer, even though I'm sure she wants to toss a drink in my face at this point.

She turns to face me, tucking her leg underneath her. "Please."

"I had a rough time fitting in here. Except for my best friend. He's–" I grin thinking about Liam and I, growing up together, how perfect and inseparable we were. "--as Cordonian as you can get. Well, except… I mean, his mom… nevermind," I shake my head. "He's the nicest person I've ever met in my life. I needed some help after a bad business deal, and… he was there and… now I'm here."

"Huh." She sits back, crossing her arms as she takes me in. She raises an eyebrow, the corner of her lips curling. She's clearly unsure of me, and I don't blame her. 

"Drinks?" A cocktail waitress dressed in a skimpy, leather skirt interrupts us.

Rubbing the back of my neck nervously, I turn to Nora. I have a feeling that this might be the end of the night for us, especially if I don't offer her a cocktail.

I stare at the sparkling flecks of bronze in her eyes. There's something about this girl, more than just the memories she stirs up in me. I can't explain it… shit, then again, maybe I'm fooling myself, wanting something to be there that never was. Still… I clear my throat… you never know unless you try.

 "Would… you like one? A drink?"

She narrows her eyes in thought… and fucking hell, she's so goddamn beautiful. Like Riley incarnate. The mannerisms, some of her expressions. Watching her literally robs me of speech and air, and I am dying to spend more time with her. Hell, who knows where the night will take us. 

I really hope she agrees to this drink. I can tell I haven't exactly won her over in the past twenty minutes, but if she would just agree to one more drink, just a few more minutes with me, maybe history could repeat itself. Maybe I could experience the woman of my dreams in a different way. Now, I could never tell Nora this; she could never find out. I mean, I am attracted to her, it's just…

"Sure," Nora interrupts my thoughts, her lips curling. "I'll take a drink."

~🖤~

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

~🖤~

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[wolveria]

Hey there, I hope you don't mind me asking but do you have a general outline for writing multi chapter stories? Like "horny hours around 40 chapters in" or do the ideas just jump into your head?

For book-length fics I definitely have an outline. Sometimes it gets so specific and long that it's more of a zero draft or manuscript. It's like writing a fic quick and dirty with bullet points, and then writing the "real" draft later.

I get a better idea of what happens in each chapter as I go along. Funnily enough, creating a song list helps since I can assign a song to each chapter matching its vibe.

That's what I did with TRH, I have a song/chapter list, an outline, and the actual story lol My writing method isn't sane

[lightningandfireinmybones]

queen autumn, if the worst situation of valaena dying in childbirth came true, what would become of aemond? would he try to dabble into dark magic to try and bring her back to life or be resigned and wait until his time is over? i remember reading about king pedro and ines de castro and how after she died he kept her body on a throne for people to pay respect to 💀 i know the current tdopom aemond probably wouldn't but would dark, author's cut aemond do it?

Oh we’re going dark today🥰

If the child doesn’t live: aemond dying too, doesn’t matter if he’s pulling a show laena and dracarys himself or starting a war just to die, he’s not living without her

If the baby lives: he’s staying alive for their child, but he never EVER marries again or actually gets over it, he’s exploring every option, be it blood magic or communing with her spirit and bargaining with the gods to try to bring her back bc aemond would fight the universe itself for his wife

He might not keep her decaying body on a throne, if only because she wanted to be cremated in the tradition of their house, but you best bet the court never forgets the fallen queen, from her crown on her empty throne forever and the way aemond wears his wedding band (I say they wear wedding bands in my au don’t come for me about book accuracy) until he dies too,,,, any suggestions of remarrying are met with a swift sword to the gut, the offender being made to beg for forgiveness at the foot of the empty throne

He’d absolutely adoring that child forever though, his last piece of Valaena

Aemond and grey ghost would mourn together, grey ghost would never have another rider (maybe maybe maybe their child?) and aemond would go out to their little island with Grey ghost to remember her

[choicesfrog]

TRR was the second series I ever read (I think book 3 was still releasing when I started), so it’s always been special to me. Hana and Liam deserve so much better though, and reading through @lizzybeth1986’s essays just reinforced that for me.

I’ve been doing replays both of their routes to see what I want to ‘keep’ in my version that includes an OC for Hana, and I just feel so bad for her. Hana deserves so, so much better than how she was treated. Both her and Liam deserve for their pain and distress not to be pushed to the side. I know it’s just a story, but it’s almost hard to play Hana’s route especially with how she’s treated.

At this point the TRR that exists is the one in my head, and the versions in fics where Hana and Liam actually have loving partners who care about them and their wellbeing.

[executivenerd]

Chapters: 9/? Fandom: The Royal Romance (Visual Novel) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Maxwell Beaumont/Main Character (The Royal Romance) Characters: Main Character (The Royal Romance), Maxwell Beaumont, Liam Rys, Drake Walker, Hana Lee (The Royal Romance), Olivia Nevrakis, Penelope Ebrim Additional Tags: Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, The Royal Romance Book 2 Summary:

Riley has to deal with returning to court, clearing her name, and her ever-growing feelings for Maxwell.

‐----------------

@twinkleallnight

[kingliamappreciationweek]

Welcome to our third edition of the King Liam Appreciation Week!

Last year, we got an absolutely incredible response, with around 90+ pieces dedicated to Liam! Whether or not we reach that number this year is immaterial - what we know is that the love for the character still remains! 🤗

Day 1 is dedicated to Liam's favourite sweet, Baklava! That honey-sweet, decadent Mediterranean dessert was established as his favourite food item long before he even appeared in a book, when his elder brother Leo laughed over his childhood obsession for it in RoE Book 2. We see in person how much he loves it in TRR3 and TRH, and it's been associated with him since!!

Our other theme is Throwback, which is pretty straightforward. We'd love to see your past work on Liam, and if you like you can even reblog them with a note about your process of creating it!

Any content is welcome!! Just make sure your work centers Liam, and presents a positive depiction of him. Fic, art, meta, headcanons, edits, icons, interactive media, even simple character appreciation posts!! We also accept WIPs, so if your piece isn't entirely complete by the end of the week, fret not - you can still send us the WIPs!

The themes are simply inspirations. If you bring a piece for one of the days later, it's entirely okay...just make sure you tag the posts with the day you meant it for! We will always be keeping a bonus week in case you couldn't complete the piece during the week itself, so our official deadline for pieces will be Dec 1st!

We'd also like all of you to know that KLAW 2024 will be open ALL YEAR ROUND. So if you're unable to finish a piece before Dec 1st, pls do send it whenever you're ready to (and tag us!), and it will definitely be up on our masterlist!!

Be sure to do the following while making your posts!

1. Use the tags #kingliamappreciationweek and #KLAW in your posts. Make sure to tag the day as well (#KLAW Day 1, #KLAW Day 2, etc)

2. Tag @kingliamappreciationweek, @lizzybeth1986 and @sazanes in your posts so we can keep track!

Fan Community blogs are super important to our promotion of events, so we'd definitely love for you to check out some of these awesome blogs and their challenges:

@choicesficwriterscreations - Accepts most styles of creative works (no AI allowed). Check out their rules here!

@choicesmonthlychallenge - Any content accepted (no AI). Here is the prompt list for November and check out the CMC rules here

@choicesholidays - Any and all content welcome, as long as it is centered around one of the holidays listed! Currently, they are hosting Winter Holidays!

@choicesprompts - Any and all content welcome! Currently, the blog is hosting Angstgiving!

@choicespride - Any and all content welcome, as long as it is centered around LGBTQ+ characters and themes. While not directly associated with this event, we'd like to give a shoutout to their current event - Transgender Awareness Month. If you have any content that you think would fit, definitely give the prompts a look!

We can't wait to see what our wonderful Liam fans have in store for us!

Happy King Liam Appreciation Week, everyone!!

[pagerunner-j]

fic roundup: 2024

Since the end of the year is just around the corner, I think it's time to sum up the fics I wrote this year. As it happens, they're all about two characters who decided to take over my brain fifteen years after their last TV episode aired. Because I am apparently nothing but timely.

So: presenting The Long Road Home, and its side stories in TRH: Detours. It's an ongoing series (named after its first entry) about Rose and Tentoo from Doctor Who, and it looks into what they might be getting up to in their alternate universe. This starts as a romance and gets much more eventful from there...but the romance certainly isn't letting go of me, either.

New readers always welcome; signal boosts much appreciated! (And I'm tagging a couple of my fellow Tentoo/Rose degenerates that I'm following here, @thirdeyeblue and @quite-right-too, in case this might be of interest. :)

--

The Long Road Home: the series

The Long Road Home (M, 24,564 words)

Rose and Tentoo, getting to understand each other, trust each other, and eventually love each other, on the way home from Bad Wolf Bay. Featuring a long-overdue family road trip, deleted scenes turning into essential plot, existential crises, asides from Jackie Tyler, the wrong Beatles, inappropriate ways to answer room service, and your author shamelessly abusing the limits of touch telepathy.

Understandings and Ultimatums (M, 6,808 words)

An interlude following The Long Road Home, in which Rose and Tentoo, temporarily staying with Rose's parents, maybe start getting a little carried away with each other. And Pete's got a few words to say to the Doctor about it. Oops. Featuring badly timed father-daughter check-ins, the Doctor continuing to come to terms with having a whole lot less a in his sexuality these days, a children's toy as a conversation starter, Rose getting alternately irritated and turned on by possessive men, and absolutely everybody complaining about London real estate.

At the Threshold (T, 8,575 words)

Rose and Tentoo find themselves facing a number of major life decisions. Some aren't quite yet decided upon, but some important ones are coming together at last. Featuring the joys of house hunting, the tricky question of names, pointed motherly advice, Time Lord talents at work, gratuitous Shakespeare geekery, ongoing telepathy shenanigans, and life-changing phone calls happening at really inconvenient times.

Four Ceremonies (T, 21,812 words)

A home claimed, a seed planted, a commitment made, and promises spoken. Rose and Tentoo on the road to marriage, and a few other, perhaps even more significant things.

Entanglements (M, 21,030 words)

Rose and the Doctor may have found a good life together, but that doesn't mean all their worries--or their past traumas--have gone away quite yet. In which the emotional rent comes due, some painful stories are revealed, risky levels of intimacy are reached, a good number of unsettling memories and dreams unfold, and Rose finds her way to the solution for a tricky problem with their TARDIS. But that might come with a certain cost, too, and it might not only be hers to pay. Featuring Rose, Tentoo, and...well, Ten, too.

Coming to Light (E, 6,588 words)

All right, all right. Before we get down to main-plot business, let's let these two crazy kids, well, get down to business. A Long Road Home interlude, in which Rose and Tentoo take that trip to Barcelona (the Pete's World version, anyway), discover the alien weirdness behind one of this city's strangest neighborhoods, and then, inspired by that day's escapades, make good on both the rating of the story and the verb choice in the title. ...hey, they're having a nice time on their holidays, who am I to argue.

The House Among the Briars (M, 22,388 words)

Go big or never go home. In which Rose and Tentoo finally discover the secret of the house where they've been living, but get stranded in separate dimensions in the process. To find their way back to each other, they have to confront parts of themselves that they might not want to have to accept. For the Doctor, it's the rage he's been warned about virtually ever since he first came to be. And for Rose, it's something even more dangerous, and a whole lot stranger. Because it might be time for a certain bad wolf to come back out to play...

The Wolves in the Woods (T, 48,312 words)

Rose and Tentoo have secrets. Torchwood has questions. Everything is about to come to a head one way or another, especially if the director of interdimensional research at Torchwood gets her way. And Rose and the Doctor are going to have to figure out how to stop her, before she lays a claim on their growing TARDIS...or on the two of them themselves.

Within the Kaleidoscope (M, 75,746, in progress)

Vignettes from Rose and Tentoo's lives as two life-changing events unfold: the growth of their new TARDIS, and Rose's unexpected pregnancy. These two things may end up linked in ways they didn't anticipate. And all the while, a larger alien mystery is slowly coming to light. Will be updated periodically.

--

The Long Road Home: Detours

Under Review (E, 7,004 words)

A missing scene from early in the Long Road Home series, in which Rose and Tentoo, near the end of their temporary stay with Rose's parents, finish saying a goodbye of sorts to the Tyler house. If "saying goodbye" is really the term for the spot of roleplay they're getting up to in the home office. (It isn't.) Miss Rose, it's time for your annual performance review...and Mr. Smith has notes. Follows on from Understandings and Ultimatums, explores a bit of Rose and the Doctor figuring out their new relationship boundaries and tastes, and makes good on that aside at the end of U&U about hoping Pete never finds out what these two are planning on doing with his desk. (Sorry, Pete.)

To See the Dark Nights Through (M, 1683 words)

Rose and Tentoo both have nightmares sometimes about their time apart, their lasting fears, and the stranger qualities of their lives. They've found ways to help each other through it. And a fair few of those involve not leaving the bed.

Impossible Gifts (M, 3,813 words)

And now, time for some absolutely shameless holiday fluff. In which Tentoo and Rose get ready for the holidays, tell some stories, and keep the deepest dark at bay in the best way they know how. Which means exactly what you've probably just guessed. Fits into the early stretches of the Long Road Home series, but can be read as a standalone.

[tessa-liam]

I need to share my commission of my OTP family, King Liam Rys & Queen Riley Rys with their children, Eleanor, William and Stefan! Finally!

I posted the corresponding chapter of Smoke and Mirrors, chapter 11, The Lantern Festival , today.

Thank you so much Ainna /@artbyainna (IG) for bringing my idea to "Life"🥰😘❤️ once again!!!

📌All fics & edits: @ao719 @txemrn @queenmiarys @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @alj4890 @differenttyphoonwerewolf @harleybeaumont @busywoman @karahalloway @kingliam2019 @imjusthereforliam @lovingchoices14 @kyra75 @tinkie1973 @emkay512 @malblk21 @kristinamae093 @charlotteg234

📌TRR/TRH/TRF Liam & Riley: @irisk12 @walkerdrakewalker @thesvnsins @jared2612 @emersyn-in-cordonia @mainstreetreader @belencha77 @iluaaa @mysticalfangirl @queenwalton @bascmve01 @umccall71 @choicesfrog

@choicesficwriterscreations

[fanficshiddles]

Just chiming in to say - TRH and Eternally aren’t my cup of tea so I’ve just kind of scrolled past but I LOVE that it gives you so much joy so and you’re such an amazing writer and so I will always follow and like your stuff, even if I don’t read, and whenever you’re ready to throw us a juicy fucked up Tom fic I will be ready and waiting and until then, you go girl!! Keep writing!! You’re the BEST! Xoxoxo

Ahh thank you so much! Very kind of you. I know a lot of stuff I write isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but I do, well I have over time written various things! Something for everyone maybe lol.

Thank you again! 😄

[txemrn]

Déjà Vu

Chapter 1

Series Summary: After an unforgettable night with a stranger, Princess Eleanor finds herself caught in a secret love triangle between a noble and a commoner.

Chapter Summary: Eleanor prepares for a night out with her best friends despite her mother's wishes for her to attend a special family dinner.

Pairing(s): Liam x Riley (in discussion); more to be revealed

Word Count: ~2740

Warning: 🔞 Mature Audiences Only 🔞 this chapter references drinking; brief language

A/N: Welcome to my Crack Fic! No one asked for this... at least no one of sound mind, and if you're a big fan of TRR, you might actually hate this (no, I'm not killing Liam!). When I pitched this idea (half-joking, half-serious) to some buddies after reading the book Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas, the eager encouragement I normally receive was met with (what's that TikTok trend with that T Swift song?) "horrified looks from everyone in the room". But... I could not get this idea out of my head. So, here we are! I have a general idea of where this story is going... but I'm actually leaving myself open to possibilities. No matter how the road twists and turns, I would be honored if you join me!

A/N 2: This story takes place approximately 2 decades after TRR/TRH. I have made some canonical changes (they will be mentioned). Characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry! Huge thank you to @charlotteg234 for looking over this for me (and laughing like a maniac with me)! This was not Beta'd; please excuse my errors.

~🖤~

Eleanor

Tapping my newly manicured nails against the glass topper to my vanity, my gaze nervously shifts back and forth between my choices for the evening. I don’t know why this is so hard–or why it’s taking me this long to decide–but somehow, here I am in quite the conundrum.

Perversion or Temptress: that’s it. But, when it came to darkening the outer-corner of my eyelid, picking the right hue of eyeshadow matters. Yes, yes, they’re both a deep black; one is a dark matte that has the potential to smudge all over my porcelain face, but the other one, while dark, has little flecks of silver.

Biting my lip, I look at myself in the mirror before looking back at the YouTube tutorial I was following.  I feel silly making such a big deal over the color; afterall, this is supposed to be fun. Normally, for me, it is.  I’m actually really good at doing my own make-up, thanks to the internet and to my mother who convinced my father when I was fourteen that mascara and lipstick would not lead me down the path of destruction and eternal damnation.

Well, I guess I should clarify: I do a great job on my make-up, my everyday natural, diplomatically poised look. Think lots of pinks and taupes. It’s the latest trend for crown princesses; I should know.

But tonight, I wouldn’t be Princess Eleanor. I didn’t want to be Princess Eleanor. 

Dangit, that came out wrong. I don’t mean to sound like some stereotypical spoiled brat that is born into money and power, who craves freedom from her poor little privileged life.  I am content–actually, very grateful for the life I have been born into. I have been given incredible opportunities and experiences because of it. But, I’m not naive; I know I have a high-calling, one filled with much responsibility and dedication. Someday I will be queen of Cordonia.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves... 

Tonight, I’m just Nora–at least that’s what my friends call me, and since I’m turning twenty this coming Tuesday, they wanted to take me out over the weekend. This weekend. See? Responsible. But, there is just one problem…

There’s a sudden knock on my door, my mother instantly inviting herself in.  “Dinner’s in thirty Eleanor–”  she freezes as her eyes grow wide. “Y–you’re make-up… don’t you think it’s a bit on the, um… heavy-side?”

“Mom,” I singsong, "it's supposed to be. This is how all the celebrities and models wear their make-up when they hit the town." 

"Hit the town?" My mother gave me that eyebrow, the one that gives away her true unspoken feelings. "You're going out tonight?"

"Mhmm. To dinner." I settle on Urban Decay's Perversion, and start tapping the color against my eyelid. "I told you and Daddy that Josie and Beth were taking me out–"

"Eleanor," my mom shot her first warning signal with her tone. "We discussed that tonight wasn't a good night. And if you ladies could do things tomorrow–"

"It's just a family dinner," I continue to work on my look. "Daddy said it was fine–"

"But you know how important this dinner is. We have a special guest."

Yes, yes. We know.

His name is Drake Walker, and he is–well, was, my parent's best friend back in the day before I was born. He actually grew up with my dad, Drake's father serving as my Grandpa Rys's royal guard when he was king of Cordonia.

But, then there was a falling out of some sort…well, that's according to my Uncle Leo. He means well, but I'm fairly certain the truth has been stretched.

Anyway, I'm not too clear on what happened, but shortly after my parents got married, Drake moved back to his home in America to start a normal life. He never settled down with a wife, but he kept busy with his construction company.

That is until four months ago when he discovered his business partner had been siphoning company funds into off-shore accounts. Now he spends his days laid up on the couch with a fifth of whiskey. And broke as a joke.

Drake's brother-in-law Bertrand Beaumont, the Duke of Ramsford, serves on the royal council with my parents, and after a late meeting one night, he shared the truth about their former best friend. 

Daddy and his bleeding heart… sure, he can see fiery red from time to time and his temper can bubble over, but my father is known for his grace, forgiveness, and charity towards others. He contacted his old friend… which then led to an invitation back to Cordonia.

'It's only for a little while, until he gets back on his feet,' Daddy assured my mom.  'We'll give him tasks around the palace until then.'

Mom called it a 'midlife crisis'. I don't think I was supposed to hear the latter part.

I began to draw on my eyeliner as my mother crossed her arms, glowering at me. Feeling the disappointment radiate from her glare, I stop, shrugging my shoulders. "What?"

"Part of being royal is posing as a unified front as a family."

"You act like this is some official business or a press event–"

"Our closest friends are going to be here, Elle, and–" she stops, her eyes playfully smoldering as her voice becomes angelically romantic. "--I think even Bartie is coming." 

"Mom!" I chuckle, my cheeks pinking in embarrassment from her inflection. "It's not like that with him."

Oh, but it was…

Bartie Beaumont is one of my closest friends. He's a few years older than me and well… I really enjoy spending time with him.  He's incredibly kind and charming in and out of social situations. He's quite handsome with his dark, well-kept hair and deep chestnut eyes. And smart–goodness, he's smart. He can keep up with my father, round-for-round in debating politics and foreign policies.

He's always been fiercely protective of me, even when I was a little girl. But he was always just Bartie, my honorary older brother… that is until he asked me to dance at a charity gala when I was sixteen. I had never been asked to dance by a boy before; I was normally paired with other noble children, usually from the suggestion made by their mothers. But this? It was different… and special. Someone chose to dance with me because they wanted to. And until that moment, I never understood what it meant to let a partner 'lead you', and well… I digress. It was nice. Bartie… he's just nice.

"But seriously, Mom," I continue, "the girls have already set everything up for tonight, and I'm the guest of honor for that. I can't just stand them up."

My mom gives me a long sigh. She's having that internal argument with herself where she compares her younger years as a commoner versus her younger years as a royal. "I guess I was hoping you'd get to meet your Uncle Drake tonight–"

I couldn't control my giggles. Growing up, Mom and Dad always referred to their close friends as 'Aunt' or 'Uncle', like my Uncle Max and Aunt Livvy. But they were also active members in my life that I saw frequently. 'Uncle Drake'? I don't even know the guy. 

"Isn't he living on our couch for a while? I'm sure I'll meet him at breakfast sometime." 

My mom pursed her lips. I think she realizes she has no other reasons to keep me home. Thank goodness.

"Is Lars going with you, or is one of the other guards?"

"Mom," I whine.

"Eleanor, you know the rules–"

"But I just want to be a normal twenty-year-old for the night–"

"Almost twenty-year-old," she smirks, stepping forward to fidget with my wavy, honey-brunette hair. "It's just not safe, baby. People know who you are–good people… and bad people. Even under all of this make-up, people will still recognize you."

I give a little huff, but she was right. I once dyed my hair purple and wore thick-rimmed frames to a show for a local punk band, and I'm pretty sure I posed for more photos with fans than the musicians.

"Fine, I'll ask Lars," I give my mother a half smile. "Anything else, your majesty?"

"One more thing," she twirls me around to face my reflection in the mirror. I'm keeping it pretty casual tonight with a white shirt and black ripped skinny jeans. I am pairing my black moto jacket with some gold accessories and my red Jimmy Choo pumps. Surely the woman doesn't think I'm showing off too much skin. 

Suddenly, she raises my shirt in the back and unclips my white bra.

"Mom!" 

"Eleanor," she snickers, shaking her head at me. "We've been over and over this ever since you got boobs: white shirt, nude undergarments."

I whip off my bra, quickly grabbing a skin-tone t-shirt bra. "No one's going to be looking."

"Someone is always looking." 

After hooking my bra and smoothing out my tee, Mom gave me an approving nod. And then she put her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. "Have a good time tonight. I love you, my twenty-year-old baby."

"Almost twenty-year-old baby." We both fall into titters as we squeeze each other closer. "I love you too, Mommy."

------

I text my bodyguard Lars to let him know about the evening, and as expected, he'll be ready with the car in ten minutes. 

Poor guy was ball-and-chained to me when I got my driver's license. I'm sure when he signed up for the guard, he pictured himself traveling around the world, looking like a badass with my dad. Instead, he got me, and the only traveling he normally does is to gather my morning espresso and cronut. He's made more trips to Sephora than any man should ever make in his lifetime–even more than my Uncle Max.

He's a good guy… if you like the serious, never-crack-a-smile type. He looks like John Cena with a permanent angry expression, complete with a single bulging vein in the center of his forehead. He's a man of few words despite my attempts to make him laugh, but underneath all the brawn and muscle, he has a big heart. He has literally given me his coat so that I wouldn't have to walk through a puddle of half-melted snow. And to think, he has sworn to give so much more for my own life… 

My phone abruptly pings. Beth.

>>> "Hey, bday bish! R U ready for the nite of ur life?"

I chuckle under my breath after reading the text. Night of my life… She always has a flare for the dramatics, but then again Beth has always been the life of the party. She has more personality in her pinkie finger than all of the citizens of Cordonia combined. Her mother is the Countess of Fydelia, and ever since Beth's father left, she's been indisposed.  Mom says that's a more tactful way of saying, 'alcoholic'. 

Beth walks more on the wild side, a real risk-taker. When I get in trouble, chances are she is somehow involved, like the time I got caught with a bottle of Smirnoff Ice at the Baron's Ball. Ugh, talk about the hangover from hell… and that wasn't even my punishment…

But she, along with Josie, are my ride-or-die. My BFFs. My "You jump, I jump, right?". We've grown up together, became women together, and nothing was about to ruin that bond.

I fire a text back to Beth. 

>>> "Can't wait! My car will be ready in a few. What restaurant are we meeting at?"

My phone instantly dings, catching me off guard in my attempts to glide on some lipstick. That was fast. I tap on the message.

>>> "We're coming 4 u! Be ready!"

My face falls. I know it's probably hard to believe, but my friends often forget that I'm a princess. Like, the legit crown princess of Cordonia, and because of that, I need a bodyguard present during all activities outside of the palace that have not otherwise been secured by the royal guard. As you can imagine, that rule made me so popular in grade school when my parents tried giving me a 'normal life'.

In retrospect, I'm quite grateful for the security through the years, especially when I hear about plots made by secret coups against my dad. But still, it would be nice to get my own darn breakfast. And I'm sure Lars would love to sleep in for once.

I text back.

>>> "And Lars"

>>> "R U kidding me? Ur shadow has 2 come?"

I let out a defeated exhale.  She knows this. My phone suddenly rings, her picture lighting up the screen. "Hey–"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She sounds irritated, as if I did this maliciously to her.

"Beth, you know my parents won't allow me out without him or any other–"

"He can't come with us," she interrupts. I can hear Josie in the back, trying to calm Beth down. 

"And do tell–" I cross an arm over my chest, raising an eyebrow, "--why is that?"

She lets out a huge sigh. "Fine. It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday, but–" she hesitates, sucking on her front teeth.  "I got us three VIP passes into Core!"

I blink a few times, racking my brain for this to somehow trip a memory. "Core?" Nope. No tripping. "What's Core?"

"Nora!" She scoffs in disbelief. "It's only the newest and hottest club in town. Tonight is opening night. Half price shots–"

"Uh, Beth–?" I could feel my stomach sinking under the weight of her excitement. And Josie wasn't any better, squealing over the line. 

A club? Like, with dancing and drinking? I had never been to one before. And something tells me that the king wouldn't be too approving of his nineteen-year-old daughter partying with half-drunk strangers, groping her in the name of dancing. Still, it sounds like so much fun.

"--and we have a VIP table with bottle service until midnight!"

"Beth!" I call out to get her attention again. "There… there's just no way I can do that. Especially without Lars."

"C'mon, Nora. It's your freaking birthday. You're supposed to let loose–"

I hang my head into my hands. "You know I want to, but… I–I can't do that. My parents–"

"--don't have to know."

That silenced me real quickly into deep thought. I might not be the world's most perfect child, but I have learned never to hide things from Liam and Riley Rys. Never. 

But I'd be lying if a glimmer of hope and excitement didn't blossom in my chest at the thought of going out despite my parent's knowledge. Besides, I am an adult; I'm almost twenty for crying out loud. If anything, I've shown them how responsible I am, and that I can be trusted. Plus, Aunt Livvy has taught me more than enough self-defense maneuvers that I could probably take a second job as a spy with her wife.

Okay. Maybe Beth has a plan.

"And how won't they find out? Lars has to give a detailed report–"

"We won't bring him."

That's the plan? I snicker under my breath, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "And… how do you suggest I get rid of him?"

"Why not a sleepover?" I hear Josie suggest in the background.

A sleepover. That could work. There were few places I could go where security didn't have to be right beside me once a building was given the all clear. Beth's house happened to be one of them. 

"But I'm already dressed up. And–and I told my mom we were going out–"

"So?" Beth interjects. "We changed our minds. We'll have dinner catered."

Crap. Am I really considering this? I look at my reflection in the mirror as I twist my lips. Dangit. And I'm having a really good hair day.

"What's it gonna be, Nora?"

I take a few cleansing breaths. I can feel my pulse, galloping like a racehorse in my ears. Could I actually get away with this? I've been to Beth's house thousands of times. The guard comes in, does a quick sweep, and then keeps watch outside, never to return until it's time for me to leave. We could sneak out the back through the guest house. He would never know.

I swallow thickly, adrenaline pouring into my veins.

"Okay. Let me make a call."

~🖤~

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@alj4890 @ao719 @charlotteg234 @issabees @kat-tia801 @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @mom2000aggie @nikirennie87 @peonierose @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam

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------

Thank you so much for your support! Every like, comment and reblog means the world to me! 🖤

[cedarsmokesrandoms]

Some of the best fics I’ve ever read were written by people in their 30s or older, including one by the OP.

Yes, there are amazing fics written by younger writers and there are terrible fics written by older writers, but there’s a certain something about fics written by people in their 30s+ who have been writing fic for years that’s just…different. Those fics are the ones that consume your soul not just because they’re about your favorite character or about a scenario you like, but because the writing itself pulls you in. Those fics that are a song you hear in the distance and the tune is what draws you instinctively closer before you can hear even a single word. That ebb and flow, that

Also, the longer I’ve been reading and writing fic, the more I’ve realized how vital it is to continue doing so as you age. Not only is it fun and satisfying and a good way to connect to people who share similar interests—writing is an incredibly valuable skill that comes in handy in many aspects of life especially as you get older. Like any skill, it improves and changes as you practice, and yes, even writing the most disgusting, smutty, self-indulgent fanfic you can possibly think of is still practicing a skill.

Through time, writing becomes more than a fight to string words together, it becomes an intriguing artwork, a beautiful painting, a delightful puzzle, and eventually even a mental muscle memory that can be a lifesaver in hard times.

Leave shame behind. Keep writing fics, especially as you get older.

How are you in your 30s doing this. Genuinely how. Are you not embarrassed? Like at all?

Not at all. I consider ageism to be much more embarrassing.

[bebepac]

The Last Part

I am participating in @choicesflashfics prompt: If you think I’d ever love someone after you, then I have failed in showing how much you mean to me”  will appear in bold.

I am also participating in @choiceschallenge-may2023 for engagement.

Thanks @peonierose​ for sending me an ask that helped a part of this fic come to fruition

This is the next to the last chapter of the Rotten Apple.  I decided to make the final, the Wedding be it’s own chapter on its own.  A lot of stuff is going to happen in that chapter.  Sorry it has been so long since updates, hopefully, you will believe the wait has been worth it.  

The Book: TRH

The Series:  The Rotten Apple 🍎

The Pairings: Eleanor x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC) 

Word Count: 2500ish

Warnings and ratings: Brief mention of mental illness/ Teen

Mood Music Monday Song Inspiration: The Call : Regina Spektor

Summary:  Elle and Nico have their first huge fight as a couple. Liam comes to visit Ellie and her family in Greece. 

Original post: 05/20/23 at 7:57PM  EST.  

She stared at him in silence focusing on his eyes; they were completely unreadable.  

 She could always tell what was going on in his mind when he let her see him.  The two of them were identical in that aspect.  He could hide his true feelings from her, if he wanted to, and so could she. The look in his eyes scared her, until they brightened, and twinkled at her and a smile filled his face and more importantly his eyes. He had the most endearing smile line crinkles, which in turn made her smile.

Elle sighed in relief.  

“You’re happy.”  

“Of course I would be! Were you worried?”

“We didn’t plan this Nico…”  

“We didn’t plan Ana either, and I don’t regret how she came to be for a second.  Are you sure? How long have you known?”  

“Just since this morning.  I took a test, two to be exact, because I have been feeling off for the past few days. Both were positive. My doctor would like me to come in to confirm.  They might need to adjust some of my medications to make sure everything is safe for the baby, and for me. The earliest she could get me in is this Friday.”  

“I would like to go with you.  I want to be at every appointment with you. I don't want to miss anything. We both missed crucial points of Ana's life. Let's not make that mistake again."

The way he was looking at her now, enamored and proud, the way he gently caressed her stomach, was the way she had wished he had looked at her, when he had found out about Ana…. but those were different circumstances. Their life together was progressing in a natural way.

Wednesday

Elle rolled back over in bed, It was barely dawn. When she moved, she felt Nico's grip tighten around her. He softly kissed her earlobe and whispered softly in her ear.

"Go back to sleep, she's not up yet."

"Just because she's still sleeping doesn't mean that we have to."

"Mmmmm….wonder what's on your mind?"

Nico softly kissed her neck, nipping at her skin, grinding his hips into hers.

"Feels like the same thing that is on your mind."

Elle licked her lips pulling Nico's shirt off.

"A little delight to keep you in a good mood at work?"

"Yes, I love that idea."

“Then maybe you should lock the door?”  

Nico jumped up quickly turning the lock before returning to bed with Elle.

Ana was out of school home with Elle for the day.  

“Stay home with us Papa.”  

Elle still had that nonchalant look  that she always did, softly shrugging her shoulders, with a little smirk to her lips, 

which had Nico grinning.

“I would if I could Honeybee, but you and Mommy don’t get many days alone together, and you two should take advantage of it.”

Nico winked at  Elle as he kneeled for a moment to kiss Ana’s forehead.  Then he stood and kissed Elle’s lips, grazing her stomach with a feather light touch.

“You could stay home with us, if you want. We don’t mind.”  She emphasized the word 'could' to him to let him know he was wanted there by her.

“No it’s alright.  Have a girl’s day together, and I’ll bring you each a surprise home later.”  

Ana pushed Nico towards the door.

“Bye Papa!!!!”  

Nico lightheartedly laughed.

“Guess I’m being kicked out then.” 

 “Have a good day.” 

 Elle smoothed down the lapels of his uniform tugging him close to kiss him once more.

“I’ll be back home soon.”

“With a surprise at lunch?”  Ana chimed in.

“Mayyyybe.”    

Both Nico’s girls watched him walk down the driveway to his vehicle.  He gave one last wave as he drove out of sight.

Elle began her day of  cleaning 

entertaining Ana, trying to make it a special day just for them,  unfortunately her stomach did not want to let that happen. Morning sickness happened throwing a monkey wrench into all of her plans. She remembered having bouts of sickness with Ana, but this was every day, now, multiple times of the day.

Elle was doubled over in the bathroom hugging the toilet when she heard the door open.

She couldn't speak as another wave of nausea hit her again.  

"Mommy are you okay?"  Ana's voice was full of fear.

"I'm just feeling a little sick. I'll be alright."

Ana burst into tears.

"Are you going back to the hospital?"

"No Ana. I'm not. It's not the same kind of sickness as before."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I'll be out in a minute."  

Ana slowly closed the door behind her, leaving Elle alone.  Elle decided to make some more tea to make her feel better, better yet maybe it would be a good idea for her  to just drink some every afternoon. Ana looked truly mortified at the fact that she was sick, and afraid of the thought of her going away again.  They hadn’t told anyone about the pregnancy yet, and were waiting after Elle’s doctor’s appointment to share the news with everyone.  She tried to cheer Ana up

 before Nico came home from work to no avail.  

Ana was still unusually quiet at dinner, and Nico being so perceptive and intune with Ana, noticed immediately.

"What's wrong Honeybee?"  He playfully nudged her, smiling down at her.

She looked at Elle for a moment, then turned to him  shaking her head, shrugging her shoulders.  

Nico’s smile immediately faded, his facial muscles tensing slightly, an overwrought look taking over his face.

"Ana? What's wrong baby girl?" Nico was concerned.

“Nothing.”  Ana whispered, still failing to make eye contact with him while picking at the food on her plate. Something was wrong, and Ana was upset enough that it was affecting her appetite.

"Don't lie to me. You look at me when I talk to you, young lady."

Because of the sternness to Nico’s voice, Ana immediately  looked up from her plate.

"Tell me the truth Ana." he urged.

Ana's eyes filled with tears.

"Tell me Ana."

"Mommy's sick again."

Surprised flashed in his eyes as he dropped his fork, it hitting his plate with a loud clatter.

"Elle? What is she talking about?"

"I'm fine. I have been going to my therapy check ins. I haven't….seen him, Nico, I promise. I wouldn't hide that from you. You believe me right?"

Nico looked from Ana to Elle.

"What did you see Mommy do Ana?"

Elle gasped.

"Nothing! It can't be what you’re thinking! I didn't do anything Nico. I didn't."

Nico completely ignored her, focusing on Ana.

"What did you see her do, Honeybee?"

“Nico…”  Elle’s voice was low, pleading and timid. 

“I didn’t do anything…”

Ana looked at Elle. “Mommy…..”

"Nico…don’t do this."

Again, Nico ignored Elle speaking to Ana sternly.

“Don’t look at her.  You look at me and tell me the truth.” Nico raised his voice. “NOW! Eliana. I mean it.”

“It’s okay Ana.  Tell him whatever it is you saw.”

Immediately Ana’s eyes shifted to Nico’s.

"She was throwing up in the bathroom. She’s been sick a lot."

Relief washed over Nico’s face, and his smile returned.

"That's all you saw Ana?"

Ana nodded.

"Will Mommy have to go away again?"

"We should tell her then. I think it's time. We don't want her to be worried."

"You're right. She's scared."

"The reason Mommy is sick is because we have a baby on the way. Sometimes the baby makes Mommy's tummy upset."

"Did I make you sick when I was a baby?"

She looked between both of  their faces, but Nico couldn't answer because honestly, he didn't know.  Elle answered for him.

"I was sick a lot, but it was worth it because we have you now."

"And you know what this means Honeybee?"

She shook her head not understanding.

"You're going to be a big sister and you'll be able to help with the baby, like you do with Aunt Athena."

"Not with dirty diapers."

"Especially dirty diapers!"

Elle rose from her chair to walk around the table to Ana.

"I realize now how much I scared you, and how worried you were about me, and I'm sorry Ana."  

"It's ok Mommy, I just want you to stay with us, with me. Don't leave me."

Ana hugged her middle, and Elle gently stroked her hair.

"Never again."

Later that evening in their room Elle was giving Nico the cold shoulder.

"Elle, I'm sorry."

“You really thought I had hurt someone?  And that I wouldn’t care enough about our daughter to let her see me do it? Really Nico? Why am I even here if you have that little faith in me?”  

Nico looked absolutely ashamed of how he had reacted. He took her hands, pulling her closer to him.

He was met with silence; Elle was livid with him.

"What do you want me to say? What should I say right now?"

She yanked her hands free from his.

"I wanted you to say you believed me! But you didn't Nico! You looked to Ana for a confession of my wrongdoing!"

"The truth Elle....is I thought it might be the baby. You told me they might have to adjust your medication and that would have been my fault. Your medication was working just fine before the pregnancy ....…. And you’re pregnant because I got carried away in the moment and didn't use protection. That was my fault for not being careful."

He wasn't winning her over, Elle still looked angry.

"Nico, what we are building is supposed to have trust as a foundation, and what you just did to me in front of our daughter was the antithesis of that!"

Nico hung his head for a moment.

"I know…. All I can tell you is the truth, Elle. I was afraid. Every single time I get too happy, something goes wrong. And I thought…this is it. Here it is. The proof that we were fooling ourselves thinking we could do this… be together after everything that happened between us."

Elle's eyes that were filled with tears met his.

"You feel like that too?"

Nico nodded. 

"I feel like I don't deserve this. Like I don't deserve to be happy. But the only times I've been truly happy in my life is when I am with you."

She nodded.    

"I agree, even when I was trying to fight it Nico.  I know things are not perfect for us. Far from it. Maybe this is something we could think about working on together in therapy. Since it's something we both struggle with. Maybe it will help us both to work on it together."

"I've never been to therapy before."

"Never?!? After everything?"

"No, my family just looks at it a certain way. We deal with things on our own."

"Getting therapy doesn't make you weak Nico."

"I know that but…. It's just not what we do."

"Therapy really helped me, when I really made an effort and was honest with myself, along with taking the medication prescribed to me. I wouldn't be here now with you and Ana without those two things in conjunction. We should do everything in our power to make us stronger."

"I'll do this for you Elle. For us. We'll go."

"Okay."

Nico studied Elle's face.

"There's something else. Tell me Elle."

“The way Ana looked at you Nico.  She doesn’t look at me like that. She’s never looked at me like that.”

“It’s because I've had to discipline her when she has misbehaved. It usually doesn’t take much more than a stern voice to get her back in line. Ana has a very sensitive soul.

 She reminds me of your sister Liberty in that aspect.  Like Liberty, Ana was trying to protect you. She loves you so much Elle. I love you so much. I'm sorry that I had such little faith in you when you are showing me every day you have truly changed.”

That Friday appointment confirmed what they had expected it would, meaning their little family in seven more months would have a new little baby boy or baby girl as a new addition.  Nico had made a request.  The first person he wanted to tell was her father.  He wanted to invite him there for a visit.

Her father had agreed to come into town for a visit. In less than a week’s time he arrived on her doorstep smiling carrying a bag of gifts, and an even bigger surprise.

“Hi Father…. OH MY GOD!!!!!  LIBBY!?!?!?”

"Hi Ellie!"

She made the first gesture giving Libby a hug first and then her father.  

“Father, this is an amazing surprise. Thank you!”  She hugged him again.

"When Libby found out I was coming to see you here in Greece, she wanted to visit too.  You look very well Eleanor."

"Thank you Father. I feel better. Come in. Nico is not home yet, but he’s on the way. And dinner is almost ready."

"You're cooking?"

"Yes, I really enjoy it."

"It  smells wonderful."

"Thank you."

“How are things?”  Libby inquired.

"They're wonderful. I really love living in Greece, with Nico and Ana."

"You always did love Greece, even as a young child.  Are you happy Ellie?"

"Yes I am. The happiest I've ever been in my life.  It’s a dream come true.”

Ana came running up to Liam to give him a hug.    

"Pappoús!!!!"

Liam kneeled immediately, catching her in a hug.

“My beautiful granddaughter.  How are you?”

"I’m good!”  

Father’s guard Tomas did a check around the perimeter of the house.

“All clear Your Majesty.”

“Thank you Tomas.”  

“You look very well, Your Highness….’

“Thank you Tomas, but you can call me Eleanor, or Ellie.”  She still liked it that only Nico and his family called her Elle.  It felt very special to her.  

They decided to eat on  the patio since it was a wonderful night.  Conversation and laughter filled the night air.  

Elle smiled as her father heaped seconds of her meal onto his plate.  

“Ellie, this is amazing.  I’m genuinely in awe of your cooking skills, in such a short period of time.”  

“Well, I’ve had the best teachers here, and I really enjoy it.”  

Nico patted his stomach.  “I’ve gained over four kilos since she’s been home.”

“And I don’t mind that at all.  We both have gained some. The food just tastes better here.”  

“But that’s happiness. You two are happy together.”

“We are.”  

“Speaking of, would you mind taking a walk with me King Liam, there are some things I wanted to discuss with you.”  

“Of course. Let me just finish….”  He took a few more bites of the food from his plate.  

“There is dessert father.  Your favorite.”

“Let’s get this walk in Nico, it might need to be a spirited run.”  

“We’ll start  at a fast paced jog and see how that goes."

Elle and Libby laughed as the two started to jog down the driveway.

"What do you think they're going  to talk about?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Libby stared at Ellie in silence waiting for her to connect the dots.

"You silly!!!!  Father insists the two of you have an announcement to make since you invited him here. Are you engaged? I know you're not wearing a ring unless you’re hiding it?  Are you engaged Ellie?”  

“No, he hasn’t asked.”

“Would you say yes if he did?”

Elle opened her mouth to speak but Libby immediately cut her off.  

“Of course you would!  I don’t even know why I even asked that. Well if you’re not engaged….”  Liberty’s eyes went wide.

“Are you pregnant again?”  

Elle choked on her drink.  “Why would you say that?”

“Could it be your mini me, that’s playing in the yard with your dog Icarus right now? You’re not denying it.  And you’re drinking water, not wine.”  

“So what? Nico is drinking water too.  He doesn’t drink anymore.  He only keeps wine in the house for company.”  

“You’re still not denying it Ellie….”

Elle nodded. "Yes, I'm pregnant.  He wanted to tell Father first."

"Think that's all Nico wanted to talk to him about?"

"I don't know, that’s all he told me he was going to tell him."

Nico and Liam

“I think this is a great spot to take a break.”  

Both Liam’s and Nico’s jogs stopped, pausing at the dock.  Both were relieved for the breather, neither were in the same shape they had been in when miles were easier to run and after a run, the two had spared for hours on multiple occasions.  

Before Nico could begin speaking, Liam spoke first.

“How is Eleanor doing?”

“She’s fine, she’s happy here, with me and Eliana.”  

Liam shook his head.  “How is she really?  We both know that’s how it started before, and then she started losing her grip on reality; she needed help.”  

“She is really doing well, King Liam.  She takes her medication daily, she goes to a therapist, we even see one together.  This is the most emotionally healthy she’s been in a very long time. Honestly the both of us are in a better place because of it.”  

“That’s really amazing to hear Nico.  And how is she with Eliana?”  

“Like no time has passed.  Ana loves her mother  as much as I do, which is why I wanted to talk to you alone.”  

“Alright, what do you wish to talk to me about?”

“Elle has been living here with me and our daughter for the past four months as a family and the past two of those, we have rekindled our relationship. With your blessing, I would like to ask Elle to become my wife. I have had my mother’s ring for her all this time, and now I feel like we are ready for this.  We’re having a family get together tomorrow night, and I would love to ask her while you and Liberty are still here visiting. She won’t say it, but she needs and misses all of you.” 

“We have missed her too.  I talked to Eleanor for a bit before you came home, she is very content with her life here with you. That’s all I ever wanted for her, was to find her happiness, and she has.  You have my blessing Nico.”  

“There’s more.  We also wanted you to be one of the first to know.  The home we are creating for ourselves, and our family is growing. We just found out last week Elle is pregnant.”  

“Then congratulations are in order. I would have never thought the two of you then, would have found your way back to each other now.  I remember telling Eleanor not to expect anything from you, because of what she had done.”  

“I love her, and I see her even when she has the broken pieces, and she sees me, even though I have mine, and somehow this just works.”        

“I see that now.”  

Party at the Karahalios Home

“Who is he?  Another of your cousins?  You have so many I can’t keep track of them all.”  

The young man had asked Liberty to dance for the fourth time.

“Actually no, he’s the son of a friend of the family.  We’re not related.”  

“He seems rather taken with Liberty.”  

“A little too taken.”  

“Father please!  Let her have some fun.”  

Liam crossed his arms over his chest.  “I’m watching him.”  

After more dances were enjoyed by all, Nico got the attention of the family crowd.

“Thank you everyone for coming out tonight, I can honestly say I’ve never been more content with the life I’ve been given and it’s all because of you Elle.   Can you come join me please?”  

“Go!”  Liberty gently pushed Ellie, she looked surprised as she walked across the lawn to  take Nico’s outreached hand, Ana stood by his side.

“If you think I'd ever love someone after you, then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.  Together we have made a family and a happy home.   The time we spent apart did both get to this moment.    I found love in your laugh Elle. And we both know, and remember a time when you didn’t laugh or smile a lot.  But that’s over now, because I’m here, we’re here. It’s just us Elle.  It’s always been us against the world.

You are a loving mother, and you have put Ana first, from the moment you found out about her existence.  Even when I couldn’t see.”

“What are you doing Nico?”

“What I should have done the moment you walked back into my life again.  I love you Elle.  I love everything about you, including the little broken pieces, that somehow heal when we’re together, in both of our hearts.  

Say yes to the next question I’m about to ask you, because I need you to, I want you to, and I believe you might want to, too.”  

Elle’s eyes filled with tears as Nico got on one knee.

“What is your question?”  

“Elle, will you marry me?”

“Yes!”  I will marry you!!!”  

[dcbbw]

The Commoner’s Wife--Chapter 6: Three Blind Mice

It has been one long, hot-ass hour since I have updated this series (Chapter 5 was posted 8/4/2019), but it’s back. This is not a drill, not a one-off while I fart around with a kajillion other stories. Chapter 6 is FINALLY here, and there are so many people to thank:

@moodmusicmonday and their annual #Luck of the Draw event; the song I was assigned, Just Say When by Nothing More, spawned so many story ideas but Commoner’s Wife kept popping up the more I listened to the lyrics.

@sfb123 for her patience with me and my erratic schedules

My WhatsApp crew for their (loving) hounding, harassment, and encouragement

My hand-holding crew: @ao719, @bebepac, @angelasscribbles, and @umccall71

So, what happens now that Drake unequivocally knows the truth? Buckle up and find out!

THANK YOU to all who will read this story; if you are new to the hot mess that is TCW, you can catch up on this “one-shot” here. Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors.

MS Editor rates this fic as 99% error-free.

It has been soooo long since the last chapter, I have no idea who, if any, of the original story fans are around, and if they are even still interested if they are. Using my current tag list and encouraging you to tell a friend.

Rating M for Mature (adult themes, cursing)

Pairings: Liam x Riley; Riley x Drake

Book: TRR/TRH

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Song Inspiration: Just Say When, Nothing More

Word Count: 6,336

Highlights from Chapter 5:

Drake x Riley

“Just tell me, Brooks. Is our marriage a thank you to me or a fuck you to Liam?”

A deep sigh. A shaky voice. “Both.”

“We need to talk, Drake. I know…. I know I’ve been difficult and closed off, but I’m ready to talk.”

Drake was rummaging in the cupboard for the bottle of liquor. I know you aren’t being completely honest. I also know Liam isn’t either. What I don’t know is….is it out of fear of hurting me, if you think you’re that smart, or if you don’t have answers yourselves.

“I can’t deal anymore with half assed answers, Brooks. I can’t deal with the thought of being in a marriage based on pity or revenge. I just … can’t deal anymore.”

Princess Marguerite

Once she had Gunner out of his outfit, she ran her hands over the latex suit. The feel of the material sparked curiosity and lust within her, and she felt herself becoming wet. I have to see it.

“Do you have any medical or sensory issues?” She was now at the library desk, opening the top drawer; earlier in the day, she had placed an extremely long, extremely wide dildo and a remote control there.

Marguerite sighed as she pushed herself away from her desk. It was time to make yet another trip to Cordonia. She wouldn’t inform anyone about it; Liam couldn’t ignore her if she was standing in front of him.

Liam x Riley

Liam heard the knock on the door but ignored it. He had Riley so close to the edge; he was closer. Besides, the door was locked. Except it wasn’t.

Riley’s moans and low screams filled his ears. Stars exploded behind his eyes as he followed her over the edge. His seed spilled into her. His forehead rested against hers as the real world slowly came back into focus.

And the first thing he heard was Drake’s voice roaring obscenities, followed by a tearful gasp. But not from Riley. Marguerite.

Liam closed his eyes and bit his lip as he slipped out of Riley. Time had run out.  

Chapter 6:

Presently, in the study

The room held both an electricity that crackled with tension and a stillness; as if the very air had been sucked from it, leaving the occupants in a vacuum devoid of everything but harsh emotions.

Liam

Liam’s forehead pressed against Riley’s, his breathing heavy and uneven. His eyes were closed, the last of the bursting stars behind his eyes fading into black. He inhaled deeply; he smelt the flora and fruit of expensive fragrance, and a slight musk from the sheen of perspiration on Riley’s skin. As he slipped out of her entry, he felt her arms tighten around him as her legs slid off his back.

His arms tightened around her in return as the world came back into focus. He heard Drake yelling What the fuck? and I KNEW it! He heard Marguerite’s gasp, but nothing else from her. Perhaps Drake’s thundering baritone was drowning everything else out.

Except the incredible remorse Liam felt.

Drake deserved better than to find out this way. Hell, they all deserved better.

What the bejesus just happened? Drake was supposed to be at the cabin today and returning to Valtoria tomorrow. And Princess Marguerite … why was she even in Cordonia?

Drake

When Drake opened the study door, he was stunned. He stumbled backwards a few steps, feeling an almost-physical sucker punch at the sight of Liam’s naked ass, and the sounds of the King … his best friend … fucking.

Fucking Drake’s wife.

He wanted to cover his ears to muffle Riley’s moans as her back arched her off the sofa. He wanted to close his eyes so he wouldn’t see the convulsions as his wife’s body entered le petite mort.

Looks, sounds, actions that were supposed to be reserved for Drake because he and Riley had vowed to forsake all others.

He wanted … no, needed to hit something, but instead settled for screaming his disbelief as his fists clenched and unclenched.

This was beyond anger, beyond hurt. His vision was clouded and blurred, as if someone had painted the room and all its occupants red. Yet, for all his fury, there was a tiny piece of him that was not surprised. That wondered why it took any of them so long to speak the truth they all shared.

Drake knew it was not yet even 10am, but a strong drink was absolutely essential. He needed to numb himself. He needed to stem the tide of answers flooding his brain. As he swiftly strode past the sofa, he wanted to avert his gaze away from the irrefutable proof of the betrayal committed by his wife and best friend.

But he couldn’t.  

When he saw Riley tighten her hold on Liam’s nude body, pain pierced Drake’s heart despite the weight of his anger.

She’s clinging to him. She doesn’t care that I’m here, that she’s caught in all of her lies. She doesn’t care that she is filling the hole in my heart with salt.

Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he shook his head in sorrow and disgust.

She just does not care.

GO TO HELL, Riley Brooks!

Riley

Riley was cresting the wave of her orgasm when she heard Drake’s voice boom throughout the room.

OH MY GOD! What is he doing here?

She wanted to stop her body from responding to Liam’s touch, Liam’s tongue, Liam’s cock … but she was too far gone. Liam was as well. She closed her eyes tightly as she felt the trembles of Liam’s body through the shaking of her own before Liam slipped from inside of her.

Maybe if I can’t see Drake, he can’t see me.

Riley felt waves of guilt and shame wash over her, and as her erratic breathing tried to slow down, she instinctively pulled Liam closer to her. She needed his protection, his validation that she wasn’t an adulteress whore. Her breathing eased when Liam responded by tightening his hold on her, but she couldn’t wipe away the tears falling from her eyes.

The Duchess of Valtoria had no idea what to do. Hell, what could she do? She lay naked and sated in the arms of her lover, while her husband watched. She wanted to get dressed; clothing would make her less vulnerable, but her frock was scattered somewhere on the floor.

She had heard a woman gasp and was curious who the person was. A Lady of Court? A staff member?

In either case, Riley needed all the advantages she could get, and right now she had none. She heard Drake’s heavy thuds as he moved past them; she bit Liam’s shoulder to keep her sobs inside.

I never wanted you to find out this way, Drake. I swear it. I know you don’t believe me, but I do have love for you. I do want your happiness. I always have. It’s just my love for Liam is stronger and … and I think he may be my happiness.

Marguerite

Marguerite stood in the study’s doorway, her wide eyes darting everywhere. The gasp had come out so suddenly, she couldn’t stop it. She managed to cut it off because the laughter that was following it was highly inappropriate at best. It was obvious Liam’s partner was the Duchess of Valtoria, Drake Walker’s wife.

Dear God, could this King get any more cliché?

The gasp came out sounding tearful, which worked in her favor. Her eyes continued to take in the scene.

There was Liam with his naked ass on display for all to see. The Princess knew firsthand that it was firm and muscled; what she didn’t know was how … chiseled it was. Her lips lifted in a small smirk as she imagined pushing a dildo up his puckered hole, perhaps flogging his cheeks if he chose to be insubordinate.

What the Princess of Monaco wanted to do was make her way to Liam’s desk to sit in his oversized chair and slide her hand down the waistband of her skirt. She exhaled a low sigh as she imagined her fingertips stroking her clit.

Instead, she drew closer to the naked couple, marveling at how they clung to each other.

Desperately.  

Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of the side of a brown breast and chocolate nipple pressed against the pinkish white of Liam’s chest.

I wonder if I can convince her to flash me.

Marguerite mentally shook her head.

Back to the matter at hand. This can play in your favor so well.

Everyone was jolted from their inner thoughts when Drake angrily tossed Riley’s dress at her; it landed on Liam’s back.

“PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES ON!” he thundered before crossing the doorway and slamming the door heavily behind him.

With a last lingering look at the disgraced lovers, Marguerite ran after Drake.

She hadn’t had angry sex in the longest time, and this Drake Walker person may be up for a revenge fuck.

After they heard what Liam and Riley had to say.

Group Chat

By unspoken agreement, the quartet were gathered in the West Wing’s library. No one was speaking.

Liam sat behind the desk, his elbows on the polished wood and his hands steepled beneath his chin.

Riley sat ramrod straight in a ladderback chair which was angled in a corner between the desk and an oxblood-colored leather sofa. She kept her head turned away from the others, causing the sunlight pouring through the window to cast her profile in a half-shadow.

Drake sat in an armchair across from the desk; his eyes were fixed on the bottle of French cognac he held in one hand. He wondered how much he would have to drink to erase this morning from his memory.

Marguerite was sipping a mimosa as she sat on the end of the sofa furthest from Riley, her well-rounded legs crossed at her ankles.

The Princess tilted her full glass towards Riley, her gaze locked on Liam. “Is she why you could neither accept nor return my phone call?”

Liam’s jaw tightened. “I was busy, Marguerite. I do run a country, you know. The better question is, why are you here in Cordonia?”

“I came to see why you were ignoring me.”

Drake choked as he swallowed straight from the bottle. “You came 800 miles to see why he didn’t answer your call?”

This chick is cuckoo.

An unfazed Marguerite sipped her drink. “Yes. He texted me yesterday proposing a second date; when I called him to suggest he visit Monaco, his assistant informed me that he would return my call at his earliest convenience. He never did. So, I decided to pop in, thinking we could discuss matters over breakfast; if I had known tart was on the menu, I would have arrived earlier.”

Liam’s eyes went to Riley; the Duchess stared at her hands which were loosely clasped in her lap. Her lips were thinned, and her jaw slightly tensed.

They both looked up at hearing a heavy thud against the Persian carpeting.

Drake rose so suddenly and violently out of his chair, it had toppled over. The bottle of expensive brandy lay on its side, amber-colored liquid spilling as it spread across and stained the priceless rug.

“SHE IS STILL MY WIFE!” he hollered, his cheeks darkening with rage.

“Who’s fucking the King right under your nose,” Marguerite snapped. “She may have had the good sense to know her place and wed a fellow commoner, but the fact remains she’s a disloyal harlot and unworthy of anyone’s devotion.”

I’d still suck her tits was the unspoken portion of her statement.

Liam looked between Drake and Marguerite, choosing his words carefully. The entire room was already a powder keg; the Princess was a loose match. A lit loose match.

“I appreciate your obvious…. attraction to me, Your Highness, but my heart and affections have been claimed by another.”

“You mean your best friend’s wife? Listen to me, Your Majesty….no royal or noble worth their salt will accept a divorced commoner as Queen. Your court will be the laughingstock of Europe and you…. you’ll be the biggest scandal since King Edward VIII. At least he was lucky enough to choose love over Crown, but you don’t have that luxury, do you? Your brother beat you to it.”

“What I do with my personal life, especially when it takes place in Cordonia, is no one’s business but mine.”

“Even when it involves fucking other men’s wives?” Marguerite arched an eyebrow.

“If you wish our countries to remain in good standing, you will stop talking,” Liam growled.

The Princess lowered her eyebrow when Liam’s eyes narrowed dangerously. This was not working well in her favor. She still needed to make an advantageous match; despite being obviously pussy-whipped, Liam was the best of the lot. When she spoke again, her tone was more conciliatory.

“Darling, I’m offering you not only a union, but an alliance … a chance to rule over two countries, not just one. I don’t require what others would; I have my own coffers, my own lands, and my social station is secured.

“We don’t need to be in love and arrangements can be put in place, but only one of us can be scandalous; I’ve already claimed dibs on that.”

The Princess smiled brightly before downing the remainder of her beverage. She looked around the room before setting the champagne flute on the table in front of her and gathering her purse.

“I’m sure the three of you have much to discuss; I’ll see myself out,” she spoke to everyone and no one.

She began rummaging inside her bag, murmuring to Liam that he could email her a non-disclosure agreement. “As juicy as this morning has been, I wouldn’t tell anyone; however, I understand the need for assurance.”

Marguerite rose, a plastic keycard between her fingers which she offered to Drake.

“Retaliation fucks can be most satisfying. I have a standing room at the Savoy Five Kingdoms. They have an excellent bar and even better room service. Drop by anytime today; I fly out in the morning.”

Riley’s face twisted with anger; this brazen hussy was coming on to Riley’s husband IN HER FACE, yet the Duchess was the harlot. Her eyes held a flicker of fear; what if Drake accepted?

Why did she still care if he did?

Liam’s head fell into his open palms. Marguerite was the mistake that kept giving. With one breath she was proposing to Liam; with the next, she was propositioning Drake. The irony of her actions versus what he and Riley had done to Drake was not lost on the King.

Drake stared blankly at the key before raising his eyes to the future monarch of Monaco.

Is she flippin’ serious right now?

“Fuck you,” he spat.

Marguerite looked baffled as she tucked the key into his jacket’s breast pocket.

“That’s the entire purpose, darling.”

Detour

Marguerite stepped swiftly down the immense hallway, her cellphone pressed to her ear as she and the guard Liam had assigned to accompany her off the property studiously ignored each other.  She huffed impatiently as she heard the number she had dialed ring for a third time.

The Princess was most definitely going to tell someone about her fiasco of a morning; if details about a certain Cordonian King were revealed, so be it. There was no nondisclosure agreement in place yet.

“Ullo?” a woman’s husky, sleep-filled voice greeted Marguerite just as she heard heavy, dragging footsteps make their way up the marble stairs of the main west wing staircase.

“Cecily! Why in God’s name are you still sleeping?” Marguerite demanded incredulously.

“Because I haven’t had a drink or a drug in two days, and it’s 5am where I am.”

“Well, you need a sip, a sniff, and a new time zone, darling.”

“Why are you calling me? Good gossip?” Cecily asked in a voice filled with annoyance and nosiness.

“I’m in Cordonia, that dreadful teeny tiny country in the Mediterranean and my morning … is about to get better. Call you back.”

Marguerite slowly removed her phone from her ear while her eyes took in the sight before her.

Leo Rys, the prodigal firstborn son, stood in front of her, peering at Marguerite through bloodshot eyes. His blondish-brown curls were tousled, his impressive chest and abs on display thanks to his unbuttoned dress shirt which was half-tucked into a pair of navy-blue pants. His belt hung from his neck; his tie was partly stuffed into a front pocket.

“Marguerite?” he questioned in a disbelieving tone.

The former Prince and the Princess had a history of random encounters that were exotic, erotic, and always with Leo needing a chiropractor afterwards.

“LEO!” Marguerite sauntered up to Liam’s brother, planting an open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked disbelievingly as he rubbed the back of one hand across his bleary eyes; the other gripped her firm ass.

“I could ask you the same,” she countered.

“I’m here for a scotch and some shuteye before heading to your corner of the world later this afternoon, but my plans could be flexible,” Leo smirked.

“Flexible is my favorite word. Lead the way,” Marguerite instructed as she looped her arm through Leo’s.

Three Blind Mice

While Marguerite pulled the massive door shut behind her, Drake leant over in his chair to retrieve the dropped bottle of brandy. Riley stood to open the terrace doors to help rid the room of the sweet, oaky smell permeating the room.

A fresh breeze drifted into the library, ruffling her hair and riffling the loose papers on Liam’s desk. Her heels tapped sharply against the blonde hardwood as she returned to her seat. Her eyes darted between her husband and her lover.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Thank you both.”

“Don’t speak to me. You no longer have the RIGHT to speak to me!” Drake growled as he tilted the half-full bottle to his lips.

Liam rose from his seat, and stepped around the desk; the monarch threw Drake a reproving look as he continued to the bar cart.

“There is no need to speak to the Duchess in such a tone, Your Grace.”

Drake rolled his eyes. “You need to shut the fuck up, Your Majesty.”

Liam’s body tensed at the words, and he stilled his movements for the briefest of moments. “I understand your disappointment and frustration,” he replied in a controlled tone.

“DO YOU?” The question exploded from Drake, causing Riley to jump slightly at the harshness in his voice. “Obviously you don’t, judging by your choice of words! Because this is so much more than disappointment. THIS is undiluted heartbreak! THAT woman,” Drake pointed to Riley, “was my sum total of EVERYTHING!”

His shoulders slumped as ragged sobs tore from his throat. His fingers brushed away the stream of tears streaking his cheeks. Riley’s mouth fell open and she rushed to Drake’s side. He held his hand up to stop her.

“Don’t,” he pleaded in a broken voice.

Riley shook her head in either defeat or denial; none of the trio knew.

“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. I didn’t mean …”

“For me to find out or to get caught?” Drake finished for her.

“Drake, she’s attempting to apologize. Can you at least hear her out?” Liam entreated as he added ginger ale to one of the two tumblers of scotch he had poured.

The bottle of brandy shattered against the wall closest to Liam. The monarch continued to prepare drinks, seemingly unperturbed.

“NO! NO, I CANNOT HEAR HER OUT! Do you know when I wanted to hear her out? When I was willing to listen to BOTH of you? WHEN I WAS ASKING ABOUT MY MARRIAGE! And you both LIED TO ME! TO.MY.FACE!”

“It wasn’t supposed to go on as long it did,” Riley explained, her voice trembling. “It was only supposed to be until Liam found a Queen.”

Drake looked disbelievingly between his wife and best friend. “So, the King here is supposed to date and get to know someone intimately … to the point of making her his wife and this country’s Queen … by fucking his best friend’s wife?”

Liam stood beside Riley, pressing the scotch and soda in her hand. She glanced at him gratefully as she took a steadying swallow of the liquid courage.

“Your emotions are directed at the wrong person, Drake. I asked her to be my lover. I … I am in love with her, and I simply could not move forward in that aspect of my life knowing Riley was right there.” Liam’s gaze took in Riley, who was staring ashamedly at Drake.

“You couldn’t tell me? We’ve been lifelong friends, and you couldn’t tell me you were in love with my wife?”

“I wanted to tell you, but Riley wished to spare your feelings for what was supposed to be a brief fling. I have neither excuse nor explanation for my lack of actions. I was … I am a coward and a cad.” His blue eyes held Drake’s wrath-filled gaze. “And I regret nothing.”

Drake’s gaze shifted to Riley. “I begged you, I asked you, I damn near got on my knees to get you to talk to me! WHY DIDN’T YOU?”

Riley stared at the floor, a helpless expression on her face. “I’m still in love with him, Drake.”

“I TOLD YOU; you didn’t HAVE TO MARRY ME! But NOOOOO … YOU insisted!”

“YOU KNEW! YOU FUCKING KNEW and married me anyway!” Riley flung back.

“Because you lied to me. YOU lied to ME about everything!  Hell yes, I had doubts but I chose to believe the words coming out of YOUR mouth! And somehow, this makes it all my fault?”

Drake took a step towards Riley; Liam moved swiftly and protectively in front of her.

The Duke let out a derisive snort. “Oh, this is FUCKING RICH! The caught lovers putting on a united front. Before the husband no less, who so happens to be the injured party here.”

His eyes fell on Liam. “When she was trash-talking your ass, I DEFENDED YOU! I told her she needed to give you a chance, that you were in love with her. AND SHE STILL ASKED ME TO MARRY HER!”

Dark chocolate eyes went to Riley. “Just tell me this, if there were no Liam … could you have loved me the way I needed you to?”

Hesitation before the Duchess nodded.

Silence as no one looked at the other and Drake paced the room.

“Marguerite said Liam reached out to her yesterday, but he never followed up. Riley, you called me at the cabin, saying you wanted to talk.”

Riley nodded in agreement. “Yes. I called to make sure you weren’t injured or ill, and to find out when you were coming home so I could tell you about the affair and that I wanted to end the marriage.”

“The question becomes: where were you when you called me? Were you in Valtoria or here at the Palace? Because as batshit crazy as that Princess is, she wouldn’t fly 800 miles UNANNOUNCED for absolutely nothing. There’s a reason she feels comfortable enough to show up without notice, and there’s a reason Liam put her off.”

“I asked Riley to join me here. She arrived after she spoke to you,” Liam answered as he refilled his glass.

“And you knew she was going to ask for a divorce.” It was a statement.

Liam nodded stiffly. “She has discussed it with me on several occasions but nothing ever came to fruition.”

A flash of pain crossed Drake’s features at the revelation. “So last night was a celebration of sorts.”

Silence. Neither Liam nor Riley could tell Drake that their time together was about them, and that he was merely a guilty afterthought.

“How did you meet Marguerite?” Riley asked curiously, her voice small.

“I wasn’t cheating on you with her, if that’s what you’re asking. We met coming into the Palace this morning. I was going to seek Liam’s advice and counsel before returning to Valtoria.” Drake shook his head as his palms ran down his face. “I definitely got more than I bargained for.”

Liam’s brain churned as thoughts tumbled about:

Riley was being truthful with her husband, but there wasn’t enough … conviction behind it. She was, in this moment, a naughty child who had been caught, telling the truth to avoid discipline or punishment.

Liam knew Drake wanted to make his marriage work, but he hadn’t realized just how deeply his friend was in love with Riley; his guilt intensified. He still regretted nothing that had transpired, but Riley had left Liam of her own volition; she had taken up with Drake with no outside influence.

It was because of Liam she was willing to destroy Drake. She said it herself.

The King cleared his throat before putting distance between him and the Duchess. Riley looked at him curiously, but he was staring at Drake.

“I realize the role I play in this and am beginning to understand the depth of your pain. It is obvious that I am the obstacle preventing you two from having a happily ever after. Drake, I will stand aside and leave Duchess Riley alone if you two wish to salvage your marriage.”

“WHAT?” Riley screeched.

He can’t do this to me again!

Drake stared at his old friend before bursting into hysterical laughter. “NOW you want to step aside? Now that the damage is done? Dude, THAT is a coward move!”

“LIAM, what are you DOING?” Riley began punching his arm.

“Let me help the two of you out right here,” Drake said as he advanced on Riley.

He held his hand out, palm up. “Give me back my ring,” he ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.

Riley’s nonplussed gaze snapped towards Drake. “WHAT? NOOOO! It’s my WEDDING ring, Drake!”

“It’s my grandmother’s ring. Meant for my wife, not the woman who’s fucking around and has TOLD ME she wants to end our marriage. I’m doing you a favor.”

“NO!” Riley replied stubbornly.

Liam watched the couple, a stoic expression on his face. Riley’s reaction confirmed he had made the right decision, as painful as it was.

“Return it willingly, or I’ll snatch it off your finger,” Drake threatened through narrowed eyes.

“There’s no need for this behavior, Drake,” Liam stated, attempting to de-escalate an out-of-control situation. “Riley, if you are being honest about your feelings for me and a future for us, return Drake’s ring.”

Riley shrank away from both men. She felt emotionally attacked.

“There was no need for ANY of this shit, but here we are,” Drake countered, his eyes still trained on Riley. “My ring,” he repeated.

When the Duke left the Palace five minutes later, he had his grandmother’s ring. His wife was sobbing and arguing with Liam. When he reached his truck, he unlocked the doors and slid behind the wheel, realizing he had nowhere to go.

Megs and Old Man Harold were at his cabin; Drake was not in a headspace to either entertain or explain.

Valtoria was out of the question.

Ramsford was a possibility, but again … his headspace.

His palm patted his jacket pocket where he had placed the ring, and felt the hotel key the Princess of Monaco had given him.

Drake pulled it out, staring at it thoughtfully before starting the truck, and pulling off.

Valtoria

Darkness had fallen; save for live-in staff, the Duchess was alone in the Great House. It was a blessing and a curse. After the events of the day, Riley needed the alone time; she needed to process the words, the actions, the accusations.

But her thoughts were too loud, the rooms too empty.

On the ride back to Valtoria, Riley was silent. She stared at her now-bare ring finger, finding it hard to swallow over the thick lump of tears lodged in her throat.

Her marriage was over.

The one man who had faced death for her, whose love wasn’t predicated upon duty and appearances and secrets had wrenched the symbol of their union from her finger.

Riley had wanted to fall in love with Drake; she thought she was in love with Drake. But Liam … their connection, their chemistry was so strong. It was as if he were a magnet, and she were metal.

But only in the shadows.

Her love affair was once again sinking under the quagmire of Liam’s nobility and guilt. The man who had been so willing to share her under a cloak of deception was once again kowtowing to doing the “right thing” just when they could finally be open with their love and relationship.

Now … NOW, Liam was willing to step aside if Drake and Riley decided to try and salvage their marriage.

How ironic that the one thing she admired most about Liam was also what she loathed the most.

Liam was a huge ass what-if whose love she couldn’t trust. She never could.

Liam was why she couldn’t leave Drake.

When the Duchess arrived home, she gathered her staff, explaining that the Duke was away for an indeterminate amount of time. Riley then dismissed all staff who lived off-site, telling them to return in three days’ time. Staff who resided at the Great House would be on-call as needed. She then retired to her chambers after requesting ingredients for dinner be brought from the pantry to her chambers.

Riley stood in her kitchen wearing nothing more than a white silk slip as she washed dishes. She had prepared curried lamb and vegetables, jasmine rice, sweet corn-on-the-cob, and a garden salad for the evening meal; it was one of Drake’s favorites minus the salad. It now sat in Tupperware containers in the refrigerator.

The Duchess did not partake of the meal; a bottle of Lythikan wine had been her supper.

She had cooked dinner thinking Drake would return, if only to pack his things. But there had been no visitors, no phone calls. The woman who not 12 hours earlier had a husband and a lover, had no one.

Tonight was the beginning of their end.

The Duchess placed the last pot in the drying rack before she wiped down the countertops and swept the floor. She extinguished the kitchen light, grabbed her silent phone, and wandered through the quarters turning off lights as she went.

Despite feeling no overt effects from the potent libation, Riley’s steps held the slightest hint of unsteadiness.

The great room, where her fingertips ran along the grosgrain black leather recliner that Drake liked to sit in. His buffalo plaid blanket was neatly folded and draped along the back of the furniture. His gaming console where he and his nephew Bartie played Minecraft and Mario Brothers on weekends. The bearskin rug he insisted on placing in front of the fireplace.

Riley bit her lower lip as she turned the lamp switch off, plunging the room into shadow.

She passed through the informal dining area where a vintage hutch took prominence; it was filled with his mother’s china and a few figurines and knick-knacks bequeathed by his grandmother. A stereo system complete with a record player sat in a corner. Riley leaned down, peering at the vinyl record protected beneath a glass covering: Johnny Cash’s Hurt.  

In their bedchambers, Riley looked around as she exhaled a shaky breath. Pictures of her and Drake, Drake’s parents, their friends, Savannah and Bartie littered bookcase shelves and the nightstands. His robe was balled up on the settee at the bed’s footboard.

Her vanity was crowded with cosmetics, expensive fragrances in elegant bottles, and a painted, wooden box overflowing with jewelry.

All gifted to her by Liam.

Portraits of Cordonians long gone, with pale faces and thin lips, lined one wall. She and Drake had been planning to put them in storage and decorate with brightly colored abstracts and nature scenes.

They were going to build a life together.

Riley grabbed his pillow and pulled it next to her body; she lowered her head to inhale his scent imbedded in the fabric. Tears pricked her eyes but refused to fall.

The Duchess was acutely aware of the largeness of the space and how empty it felt without Drake’s presence.

In the house given to her by Liam.

The closing of a door was loud enough to be heard over the hushed roar of the waterfall. Riley frowned as she lifted her head; more than likely it was Gladys coming to check on her.

“I’m fine, Gladys,” the noblewoman called out in a quavering voice.

No answer as the footsteps came closer.

Riley let out an annoyed sigh. She didn’t want company; she didn’t want to answer any questions, regardless of how well-meaning they were. She tossed the pillow onto the bed as she rose, ready to waylay the majordomo. The doorway filled, and her breath caught in her throat when she saw him. His face was flushed and his breathing slightly heavy, as if he had run through the entire manor to reach the rooms.

“What …what are you doing here?” Riley stammered in a dull tone. She was too emotionally exhausted to muster up anger, surprise, relief … anything.

His brow furrowed in confusion at her question. “I love you,” he replied in a low voice as he shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it onto an antique rocking chair.

She ran her fingers raggedly through her short curls. “I ... I made dinner.”

He flashed her a quick smile. “Good. I’m starving.” The smile faded. “We need to talk about … earlier.”

Before Riley could respond, her phone rang; the sound of it was shrill and slightly jarring. Curious as to who it could be but also grateful for the distraction, she turned away to answer it.

Her eyes widened and her heart dropped into her stomach as her gaze went from the caller ID to the visitor, and back again.

The Palace

Leo and Marguerite stood beneath the shower head, warm water rinsing away soap bubbles as it pelted their skin. The former royal alternated between wincing and grimacing from the pain radiating from his lower back as he struggled to stand upright.

“SweetJesuscomepleaseus, Marguerite,” he ground out through clenched teeth. “Where the hell did you learn that new shit?”

The Princess was behind him, washing his back; she paused her motions to press the pad of her thumb into the offended area; Leo let out a relieved groan.

“At least there are no rope burns this time,” she consoled as the washrag slipped from Leo’s shoulder to the wet floor beneath them.

“Thank God for small favors,” he muttered as his palms splayed against the damp-tiled shower wall.

“Why are you coming to Monaco?” Marguerite questioned.

“International Baccarat Tournament in Monte Carlo. Staying three days, then off to Greece for a Mediterranean cruise aboard the Jewel of the Sea.”

Her lips pursed in thought as she stooped to retrieve the washcloth. Her palm slapped one of Leo’s ass cheeks before her index finger jammed itself into his puckered orifice as she rose. He yelped in annoyance and pain.

“GET YOUR FINGER OUT MY ASS!” he yelled.

“Darling, why don’t we return to Monaco and get married?” the Princess proposed as her finger twisted inside of Leo.

It wasn’t an arbitrary question; nothing was ever random with Marguerite. Leo was a fine piece of man: tall, handsome, intelligent. He may no longer hold a royal title, but that was an advantage. Not having a moniker meant one country, one sovereign. Royal blood still flowed through his veins, and he held land ownings in both Cordonia and its provinces, which would satisfy her parents. And Leo could never threaten her with severing governmental relations as Liam had done earlier.

Over a commoner slut.

With amazing tits.

“YOU ARE STILL IN MY ASS!” Leo retorted.

Marguerite removed her finger, sticking it beneath the overhead stream of water.

“Well?” she demanded.

Leo shook his head, droplets from his hair flying in the air. “Look, I enjoy our times together, but I can’t have sex like this every day, multiple times a day.”

“It’s like exercise, your body has to become acclimated to it,” the Princess explained as she stepped in front of him to shampoo her hair.

“And there’s a reason I abdicated my own throne.”

“Thanks to Anton Severus, that reason is now six feet underground.” She exhaled a petulant sigh. “If only Anton hadn’t attempted to kill Liam, the man would be a hero throughout all of Europe and not in a prison cell.”

“That reason is still my father, Marguerite!” Leo spat angrily as he stepped out of the shower. “You need to leave.”

“If I’ve said anything untrue, I will rescind my offer and leave immediately. But I haven’t. You simply haven’t healed and don’t have enough liquor in your system to bandage the pain.”

She twisted her honey-blonde hair, squeezing the excess water from her tresses. “Marry me and re-discover the joy of being a royal again. You won’t be the ruling monarch which gives you all the rewards and none of the responsibilities. It’s a win-win darling.”

She sauntered out and up to Leo who was avoiding her gaze, her wet body glistening. He was combing his hair, purposely avoiding Marguerite’s gaze. Her arms snaked around his neck before she stood on her toes to kiss him.

“Be a good sport, luv,” she urged.

“My cruise …”

“Our honeymoon!”

A half-hour later, the pair slipped through the rooms’ doorway with Leo lugging two suitcases. They both glanced down the hall, seeing the sliver of light beneath the closed door to Liam’s library.

Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @queenrileyrose @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame​ @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations @moodmusicmonday​ @katedrakeohd​