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txemrn · 1 year

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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."

~🖤~

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#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir #choices trr #choices trh #princess eleanor #drake walker #riley brooks #liam rys #crack fic

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the-unconquered-queen · 4 months

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#playchoices #mother of the year #the royal heir #choices moty #choices trh #unconquered queries

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emkay512 · 1 year

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Show You Off

Set at Liam and Riley’s first wedding anniversary, and they are trying to come up with ideas to celebrate each other. - Another OUAT one shot

Song inspiration: Show You Off by Dan + Shay

A/N 1: This is participating in @choicesflashfics week 8 and I’m using prompt 3: “I’ve never done something like this before.”

A/N 2: I’m grateful for this prompt cause it got me to actually want to finish this by the end of the prompt week. And I want to thank @queenrileyrose for pre-reading this, just earlier today!

I’m also including the designs that I also created, just cause… I had fun making them and wanted to include a visual, as basic as it may be 😅 I hope it’s not too off putting!

Warnings: Tiny bit of language and just a mention of 🍋

Word Count: 2,445 (my longest yet! 😬)

Tags: Sorry if I missed anyone, let me know if you want to be added or removed @queenrileyrose @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @ao719 @kat-tia801 @sincerelyella @charlotteg234 @neotericthemis @kingliam2019 @iaminlovewithtrr @amandablink @iluaaa @jared2612 @sfb123 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @secretaryunpaid @ladyangel70 @gkittylove99 @texaskitten30 @shanzay44 @ofpixelsandscribbles @sarcastic01lily

The king and queen of Cordonia were enjoying a peaceful breakfast together in their personal quarters at the palace. Their first wedding anniversary was fast approaching, and they hadn’t discussed any plans. Riley was a ball of excitement for their upcoming milestone, but to her surprise, Liam hadn’t brought it up at all. She knew there was no way he’d forgotten, but she couldn’t hold in her excitement a minute longer.

“So..” Riley, broke their comfortable silence, “A pretty big day is coming up for us..”

Liam looked up at her with a smirk on his face, “I must say, I’m very impressed with you.” Riley had a very quizzical look on her face with his response. “I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up, here I thought you would have been talking of nothing but our wedding anniversary for the last month.” Liam smiled very brightly at the topic. Riley hurled a piece of toast at him for picking on her.

“Well excuse me for not interrupting the king’s schedule.” She laughed, completely relieved for his playful response. “So, tell me, what should we do? I’ve been dying for you to tell me there’s some great Cordonian tradition that we mustn’t be the first ones to break.”

“Heh, you always have been one to catch on quick, haven’t you, Love?” He reached over to grab her hand and peck it with a quick kiss. “Well there is one tradition, but it’s not centuries old or anything, and most certainly not something we have to do.”

“Please tell me.” Riley replied with wide excited eyes.

“It’s simple. It’s the idea that we exchange a sort of gesture rather than a gift. Like planting a tree or something of the sort for your partner.”

Riley instinctively scoffed, “I think I can do better than planting a tree for you!” Liam laughed at her instinct to declare she could do better than a tree for him.

“I take it you like the idea?”

“I love it, let’s do it.”

Liam stood from his chair and leaned down to Riley to seal the idea with a deep kiss. “Yes, let’s.”

The next day, Liam found himself in his study, wracked with thoughts about how to fulfill his end on this grand gesture tradition. He had a specific idea in mind. Something very un-Liam and the more he researched, the more he liked it. He knew his wife would be filled with shock and delight over it. He was quickly becoming more convinced on it, but he just needed to find the right design.

Suddenly, there was a quick knock on his door, and Liam called for them to enter. Drake walked into Liam’s study to catch up and check in on his best friend. Upon his entrance, he noticed Liam had laser focus on his computer screen. Liam glanced up, and once he recognized Drake, he adjusted his attention back to his desk. “Oh, hey Drake. Come on in, make yourself comfortable. What can I do for you?”

Drake did just that, but he couldn’t ignore his instinct to inquire on Liam’s current fixation. “Uh, well, you can catch me up for starters.” Drake had no idea what had him looking so serious. Liam didn’t respond assuming Drake would have no trouble helping himself to whatever he needed. “Dude! What’d you got porn on there or something? I’ve never seen a man stare at a screen so hard.”

“What? No!” Liam snapped his head up at Drake with the slightest and feigned look of offense at the comical suggestion. Drake had poured himself a finger of scotch from Liam’s bar cart and motioned, asking Liam if he’d like to join, which he did. Drake handed Liam his drink and sat down opposite him willing Liam to explain. “Well, Riley and I have our first wedding anniversary approaching, and I’m trying to figure out what to do.”

“Uh, huh. And so you’re.. online shopping? Doesn’t seem like you to simply buy something.”

“Astute as ever, Drake. I’m not online shopping. Riley has decided she wants to keep with tradition and exchange gestures instead of gifts.” Drake was interested and still curious where this was going. “I have an idea in mind, but.. it’s very permanent and I’m struggling to find the just right design.”

“Ok, so just exactly what is this very permanent gesture you are so unsure about?”

“Oh, I’m sure about it. I just want it to be right... Let me just say this, what is the one dare Leo gave me that I could never actually do?”

Drake shot straight up in his seat with immediate understanding and total shock. “No way! You want to get a tattoo!?”

True to form, Riley had enlisted Maxwell to help her plan this gesture gift exchange that she and Liam had agreed to. When they came up with the idea, she thought it was the brightest and best idea ever, but now here, in her own private study, she was struggling to come up with an idea. Even Maxwell had completely gushed over the tradition when she told him, but now even his over the top brain was drawing a blank. “And you’re sure you’re totally against the crotch-less panties idea?” He asked very seriously.

Riley side eyed him hard, but after a minute long stare, she shrugged and replied with a sigh, “I’ll call it plan B.” Maxwell nodded at her with pride that she put the idea on the table. “I just.. want to do a huge gesture, but also subtle.. something eternal.”

Maxwell slapped his hand and arm down on the table in a stroke of genius. “I got it!” Riley looked up at him with intrigued eyes. “You should tattoo his name on you!” Her eyes fell immediately with disappointment.

“Maxwell, I’m not even allowed to wear colorful nail polish. There’s no way I could get a tattoo.”

“Well then, get the tattoo on your ass.”

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you?” Riley said although she was secretly letting her mind wander. It’d be kinda perfect. The ass placement would be a little less than romantic as she wanted. But, his name permanently inked on her, she actually liked it. “So… just exactly where would we get all the bodily image regulations, anyway?”

Maxwell clapped his hands in excitement, “I sure as shit don’t know the official rules, but I can bet we know who does!” The next thing they knew, Riley and Maxwell found themselves in front of Bertrand.

“My dearest brother, I don’t know why, but I have always dreaded this day. Somehow, I just knew you’d lure our queen Riley into some drastic shenanigans. Little did I know you’d encourage her into a tattoo!”

“But it’s a gesture of love! And a Cordonian tradition! It’s their first wedding anniversary. And our queen wants to permanently honor our king. Hello, it’s true love!”

With Maxwell’s over excited attitude, Bertrand could only concede. “Lady Riley, if you wish to proceed, I must tell you, there are actually no restrictions on Royal bodily tattoos. You are permitted to a subtle ink job.” Riley couldn’t stop from withholding her excitement. She’d get Liam’s name tattoed on her as soon as possible, she loved the idea. She just needed to put a plan in motion.

For Liam, his plan fell into place quite easily. With Drake’s help, they found a tattoo artist that was more than willing to discreetly meet the king at the palace to get the job done. The timing worked out perfectly, three days before their anniversary date, Riley was due in Valtoria for a ribbon cutting ceremony. A usually quick appearance, but she very conveniently announced she’d stay overnight to prevent exhaustion from the quick travels.

She even assured him she’d take her time in Valtoria, and include time to make casual appearances around the area to visit the residents. It gave Liam more than enough time, it was perfect.

For Riley, she quickly finagled a side quest into her already existing planned visit to Valtoria. Maxwell was already scheduled to attend the event with her to continue with House Beaumont’s standing alliance and connection to the crown. He would help find a local shop for Riley to discreetly dip into.

Liam had already agreed to her extended stay under her guise of visiting the residents. Sure she would, including a visit to a well kept tattoo parlor. It gave her more than enough time, it was perfect.

On the day of Riley’s trip, she hastily began her travels after exchanging her affectionate goodbyes with Liam. Once Liam felt like a comfortable amount of time had passed since Riley’s departure, he had Bastien contact Mara to confirm their safe and steady passage. All seeming to be part of normal security protocol, which was of course part of Liam’s intention, but he also wanted to get started on his appointment.

Liam had decided to use his office for his in-home tattoo parlor. Drake was there to offer his moral support, and to actually see this take place.

“Are you nervous?” Drake asked, he was still in disbelief this was happening. Any time Leo wanted to win a good ‘dare-off’ with Liam, he’d end it by daring Liam to get a tattoo. Any tattoo. But Liam would never take that dare. To him it was too reckless to permanently modify his body on the whim of a dare.

“Not at all,” Liam answered with a smile.

They were cut off with a knock at the door, and Bastien entered with the tattoo artist in tow. The man was covered head to toe in ink and was extremely professional while he set up his designated station and sanitized his tools. After a while, Liam provided the design he created and showed where he wanted it placed. Liam positioned himself in the chair and the artist began his work.

Riley had finished her appearance, and she and Maxwell started to wander down the beaten path in Valtoria. Riley was relying on Maxwell to lead the way as he assured he found an appropriate place and made arrangements with the owner to accommodate the queen.

“I have the address, but aren’t we supposed to find some bright neon sign that says tattoo? I’ve been keeping my eyes peeled for it”

“I wouldn’t know, believe it or not Maxwell, I’ve never done something like this before.” Riley answered with no surprise that he would be looking for something as ridiculous as that. Once Riley stepped in with navigations, they quickly found the parlor that was eagerly awaiting her arrival. The staff greeted her and directed her to the booth and artist that would be working on her. She handed over the final draft of what she wanted and laid out where she wanted it and they got started.

Liam and Riley each woke up the next morning, missing each other, but grateful for the night apart to keep their tattoos under its covering without having to explain it. Liam went into the bathroom to clean his hands and carefully uncover his tattoo with plenty of ointment available to keep the area from getting too dry. He was ecstatic with the finished work and now just had to think of how to conceal it when his wife returned home.

Riley couldn’t wait to uncover her fresh ink. She sat up in her bed in Valtoria and quickly peeled off the covering. She loved it and gently touched it to make sure it was real. In the thrill and excitement of getting the tattoo, she had momentarily forgotten what to do next with it and surprisingly, it was Maxwell that reminded her of the needed new tattoo care.

To both Liam and Riley’s surprise, it was fairly easy to conceal the gestures they created for one another. The two were usually unable to keep off each other and they both worried that their singular desire for a little more distance would raise an immediate red flag. But neither said a thing, not wanting to encourage an annoying line of questioning.

The night of their anniversary date had arrived and they enjoyed a very romantic and intimate dinner out in the capital. They were both eager to finally reveal their gestures, and Riley insisted she go first. For some reason, she was a little nervous.

“Ok, I wanted to do something to show you how proud I am of you, to be your wife, your family, your queen. I want to be with you for forever, and I want to show you that you’ll always be with me.” She raised her left hand with curled fingers up to cover her mouth. “Ready?” She asked, and then she slowly twisted her wrist outward to display the fresh ink in the form of a beautifully scripted and ornate “L.R.” on her wrist.

Liam’s eyes went wide with utter shock and delight, the very reaction he expected out of her. He was already moved with her touching declaration and his heart was bursting with affection at his initials adorned on her body. “Do.. do you like it?”

“Like it!?” His eyes darted from her wrist to her eyes, “I absolutely love it, Riley, I never imagined someone doing something like this for me. I am in awe of you.”

Riley was thrilled with his elation, but now it was her turn. “What.. do you have for me?”

“Heh, well considering what you did for me, I think you’re gonna like what I did for you.” He removed the oversized watch he had been wearing on this left hand, and set his elbow upright on the table, displaying the fresh tattoo on his wrist that read “Riley” with a gold crown just above the name on the end.

“Oh my…. Oh my God, Liam! You didn’t!” Riley couldn’t stop from covering her mouth with her hands in complete and total shock. She grabbed his wrist and pulled it to her face. “How did you…. How did you know!? Was it Maxwell, did he spill my surprise? Liam how did you possibly know? This is amazing, look at us! We match! I love it!” She was squealing with joy and excitement.

Liam laughed heartily, “I promise I did not know, it seems we share more than just a heart, we share a mind as well.” Liam got up from his seat and pulled a hefty load of cash from his wallet to drop on the table to tip the staff, and he reached and pulled Riley from her chair. “Now, we are getting out of here, and I am putting a baby in you tonight.” He said with the most devilish grin Riley had ever seen.

#choices trr #king liam #choices #the royal romance #trr #liam x riley #choices trh #choices flash fic #liam rys #cordonia

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sfb123 · 2 years

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I was lucky enough to win a commission by the wonderful @/artbyainna for @ao719’s Tumblrversary giveaway, and I am absolutely FLOORED!

LOOK AT MY BABIES! This is Liam and Riley from a pivotal scene in my series Sapere Aude. I was going to post a snippet, but it's completely loaded with major spoilers, so iykyk. If you don’t, check out the series master here. If you don’t want to read the whole thing, and want the spoilers of this scene, it’s from chapter 8.

Thank you so much to Anitah for your generosity (and congrats again on that Tumblrversary), and to Ainna for using your incredible talent to help me bring one of my silly stories to life yet again.

Permatag:

@3pawandme @busywoman @charlotteg234 @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @gryffindordaughterofathena @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @i-am-only-here-for-sims-cc @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @nikirennie87 @princessleac1 @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @secretaryunpaid @sincerelyella @theroyalheirshadowhunter @tessa-liam @twinkleallnight @txemrn

TRR:

@21-wishes @ao719 @belencha77 @burnsoslow @lovingchoices14 @ofpixelsandscribbles @queenrileyrose @the0afnan @tinkie1973

Liam:

@amandablink @cordonianprincess @custaroonie @jared2612 @xpandass420x @yourmajesty09 @zaffrenotes

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becca-davenqueer · 2 years

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TRR but I redesign the MC set to look like modern Choices

#choices #playchoices #choices edit #choices stories you play #choices edits #pixelberry #choices stories we play #the royal heir #the royal romance #trr mc #choices trr #choices trh #bdq edits #trr edits

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moodmusicmonday · 1 year

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Here's this week's playlist! Thank you to our writers for submitting! All the details are below the cut.

And of course thank you to everyone who follows, likes, and shares our posts week in and week out. We wouldn't be here without all of your love and support. 🥰

Keep an eye out next week for more information on this year's Luck of the Draw!

@cariantha

"Seein' Red" - Dustin Lynch; Seeing Red (OH; Ethan x F!MC)

"Be Kind" - Marshmello, Halsey; War & Peace (OH; Ethan x F!MC)

@txemrn

"Keep Your Head Up Princess" - Anson Seabra; Keep Your Head Up (TRR/TRH; No Romantic Pairing)

"Broken Pieces Shine" - Evanescence; Pour Two Glasses, Chapter 6: ...Everything's Turned Upside Down... (TRR; Liam x MC)

@bebepac

The Vampires Live On, Part 3 (TRR; Liam x MC)

Song 1: "Friday I'm in Love" - The Cure

Song 2: "Together Again" - Janet Jackson

"Lift Me Up" - Rihanna; The Cordonian Arrangement, Part 6 (TRR/TRH; Riley x M!OC)

@tessa-liam

"One Call Away" - Charlie Puth; Marabelle, Chapter 2: Once Upon a Time (TRR; Liam x F!OC)

🎵🎵🎵🎵

#Spotify #mood music monday #moodmusicmonday #choices mmm #music inspo #fanfic inspo #fanfic music inspo #choices trr #choices trh #choices oh

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playchoicesconfessions · 10 months

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Sent by anonymous

‘King Liam is one of the best LIs of all time. ’

POST/CONFESSIONS DO NOT REFLECT THE MOD’S PERSONAL OPINIONS!

#choices the royal romance #choices trr #trr #the royal romance #choices the royal heir #the royal heir #choices trh #trh #king liam #liam rys #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices #confessions #mod bruffle

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cadybear420 · 14 days

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Why is r/Choices so obsessed with complaining about TRR MC not having a backstory... like that is such a non-issue. It's the king god of non-issues.

like... just come up with your own backstory for your own MC. the writers even said that that was the point. and seriously like... try it. it's fun. sometimes less is more.

#same goes for OG HSS MC too #although people don't complain about that nearly as much #choices stories you play #choices #choices game #choices stories we play fandom #choices stories we play #trr mc #trr #choices the royal romance #the royal romance #choices the royal heir #the royal heir #choices trh #trh

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txemrn · 1 year

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Keep Your Head Up

Book: TRR/TRH Post-series

Word count: ~2325

Song Inspo: "Keep Your Head Up, Princess" - Anson Seabra

Warning: fairly fluffy (no one dies!); tiny sprinkles of angst, mentions of bullying

A/N: I am participating in week 21 of @choicesflashfics prompt challenge! I chose prompt #2: "I look at you and my heart breaks because all I see is loneliness.” The prompt will be in bold.

A/N 2: Most of the characters and some of the plot points belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Please excuse my errors! Also, if you are curious about Royal Roulette: it's a fun little challenge you can do anytime for yourself! Take your music and hit mix! Take the first song that pops up, and use it as a muse for a fic! No need to credit me, but do tag me if you do it because I LOVE reading other RR!

~🖤~

"Where is she?" Liam grits his teeth, frantically glancing around the ballroom before turning back to his head guards. A strangled-growl drips from his words, a crimson hue coating his vision. "Can anyone tell me where the hell she went?"

Not waiting for an answer, he pushes open the heavy, ornate double doors to exit the ballroom before bounding down the side corridor that leads to the grand staircase. Each step he takes becomes quicker, angrier, and despite being in full regalia, his walk becomes a run. Once he reaches the living quarters of the palace, he takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches her room. And he knocks softly.

When she doesn't answer, he raps against the polished wood once more. "Love?" But again, she doesn't answer.

He sighs, his jaw ticking, knowing that he needs to speak with her. To hug her. To hold her.

To tell her that he loves her.

He turns the doorknob, inviting himself into her room; but upon entry, he notices the darkened room is empty. Her bed is still made, her belongings untouched.

He lets out a heavy sigh, turning on his heel to search elsewhere– that is until he hears the soft rustle of taffeta from the large, oak wardrobe on the far end of the room.

A smirk grows across his face as he saunters to the closet. Of course, she would pick this as her hiding place. Her favorite book was The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe from C. S. Lewis's The Chronicles of Narnia. Staying quiet, he cautiously approaches, leaning in closely, just to verify he heard correctly.

And suddenly, a breath hitches as a quiet, almost inaudible sob continues.

And the fibers of his heart begin to splinter, shattering into a million shards on the ground.

He thought he could protect her and shield her from the snide comments and hateful glares. The judgment from the public was bad enough, but the turned up noses and undercut statements made by nobles could be relentless. Seeing her bright light and contagious laughter stolen at the ruthless words of bullies seeped a new level of sadness into his heart.

He gently taps on the door of the wardrobe. And instantly, the movement stops, retreating back into hiding. "It's me," he softly whispers, "Daddy."

After a brief, silent pause, the hatch unlocks, the door swinging open to reveal six-year-old Eleanor tucked in the corner underneath her winter coats. Her pink ball gown is scrunched up around her body as she hugs her knees, her trusty stuffed lion Fabian under her arm for cuddles. Her freckled, cherub face is swollen and blotchy, wet from her tears. Her hair remains in a blonde French braid with pink jeweled barrettes, fixed by her mother for the evening.

"Eleanor?" Liam quietly crawls onto the floor, pulling his ankle under his knee to crisscross his long legs. He takes a deep breath, his crystal gaze matching hers as she coyly watches him like a frightened animal. "What's wrong, Squirt?"

A large tear slopes down her nose as she tucks her head lower into her arms. She remains silent.

Liam gently clears his throat. "Why aren't you down at the Baron's ball?" Again, the young princess remains quiet except for her rhythmic sniffles.

He turns his attention to her feet, noticing her beloved pair of black Converse high tops. And he can't help but smile. Gosh, he loves his girl.

Eleanor has always marched to the beat of her own drum. She showed interest in so many different things, playing with both dolls and toy cars, eager to play soccer and climb trees while also hosting tea parties and playing in her mom's makeup. She was rough and tumble, but loved glitz and glam. She wasn't too fond of wearing heavy, itchy ball gowns, but when Riley suggested she wear her Chuck Taylors like a comfort item, their daughter couldn't wait for the next royal function.

That event was tonight.

"Princess," he sighs, "I look at you and it breaks my heart because all I see is loneliness. I want to make whatever this is better, but I can't unless you talk to me." When she doesn't budge, Liam glances back to her high-tops, and remembers she was debuting them tonight. He taps on them. "Did you show your friends your cool sneakers?"

Eleanor looks up with a scowl before putting her head back down. "They're not cool," she cries.

Liam's eyebrows furrow with curiosity. "What do you mean they're not cool?" He reaches over and grabs her foot, playfully inspecting the shoe. "These look pretty cool to me, but then again–" he tickles her knee, "--I think the person wearing them makes them the coolest shoe ever."

Eleanor looks up with a pitiful smile, wiping at her face with her arm. Her brilliant blue eyes match her father's, more ablaze from being red with irritation. She quickly climbs out of her corner, and reaches for her dad; but before her arms could reach him, he was already pulling her into his own embrace. She clings tightly to his neck as his large hands rub endearing circles on her back.

"They said they were stupid."

"What?" Liam looks down as his daughter readjusts to sit in his lap. "Who said your shoes were stupid?"

"The other girls," she holds out her feet, knocking the toes of her shoes together. "They said that real princesses don't wear boy shoes."

"And how would they know? You're the only princess in that ball." He boops her nose causing her face to scrunch with a genuine smile. "Uh, Squirt, where are your glasses?"

Her elation died at her dad's words. "I don't want to wear 'em, Daddy."

Liam extends his arm into the wardrobe, pulling out the purple bifocals, holding them out in his hands. "Why not?"

"'Cause…" she fidgets with her skirt, "I'm not pretty with them on."

"Squirt," he places his finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "It's impossible for you to not be pretty. In fact," he smooths out her dress before pushing back a gold wisp of hair. "You are the prettiest girl I know."

"Daddy," she bashfully singsongs.

"What?" He sits up a little taller. "I know these things. I am a king." He chuckles. "Now, about these glasses–"

"--I don't want to wear them."

"But they look so pretty on you, Eleanor," he unfolds the glasses, offering them to her.

"They give me four eyes. And-and I don't want four eyes, Daddy! What if they turn into five… or six?" She drags her fingers down her cheeks.

Liam titters to himself. "Who told you glasses give you 'four eyes'?"

She crosses her arms. "Stupid boys."

"Eleanor," Liam warns, "you know we don't say words like that about others."

She pouts harder, slumping in her father's lap.

"Let me show you something," Liam points to her eyes. "You have one… two eyes right here, but you need glasses to help you see, right?" She nods. "These," he looks at the eyewear in his hands, "are like having another set of eyes. See?" He points to each lens, "three... Four."

"Oh!" A wave of understanding crawls across Eleanor’s face. "Four eyes!"

"Right," Liam snickers, placing an endearing hand around her back. "People say it to try to be rude, but honestly, all they're pointing out is that you wear glasses. That's it."

"Oh," Eleanor considers her father's words before continuing. "But they said I was ugly in them. And I don't want to be ugly, Daddy."

"Hrmmm," Liam thoughtfully looks at her glasses, and then slips the small pair on his face. Clearly made for a child, the eyewear pinches tightly at his nose and across his temples. "Am I ugly?"

"No," Eleanor giggles, holding a hand over her mouth.

"But, I thought these glasses make people ugly–"

"Daddy!" She squeals, "you're being silly!"

Liam chuckles, hearing her laugh again. He takes off the glasses, cleaning them off against his shirt. "Eleanor, do you know why princesses wear crowns?"

"Because they're princesses," she answers proudly. "And crowns are pretty."

Liam reaches over to a wooden chest next to the wardrobe that is filled with costumes, play clothes and accessories. He pulls out a plastic, gold crown with bright pink jewels glued around the band.

"Crowns," he continues, holding the toy crown in his hand, "help princesses keep their heads up."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah, huh!" Liam jovially retorts. "See, some people can be very mean. And because you are a princess, you're an easy target for people to be mean. But do you know why they're mean?"

Eleanor innocently shakes her head, her attention glued to her father's words.

"They're mean because they're jealous."

"Jealous?"

"That's right," Liam nods. "You have something they don't have. It can be a pretty dress or a pretty smile," he pinches her cheek. "Sometimes it's simply because someone else hurt their feelings, and they want someone else to hurt, too. They're jealous of your happiness. They think that if they're mean, it will make them feel better."

Liam takes the toy crown and fixes it to her head. "Being part of the royal family means you have a lot more things, that you are given a lot more opportunities than people not born into nobility--which, you should never, ever be ashamed of. But we live our lives in the public eye, so people from around the world know how privileged we are."

Eleanor taps her finger on her lips, knitting her brows together. "So… they get jealous?"

"That's right, Squirt," his lips slowly curl. "They can."

"But, Daddy? It… it still hurts my feelings."

"I know it does, baby," he pulls her in close to his chest, "I know it does. But just remember: those mean words are not true." Liam looks up at the gaudy crown on his daughter's head. "So, that's why princesses wear crowns. That's why you wear a crown, Squirt. It's there to remind you that when people say mean, untrue things about you, keep your head up. Don't listen to them. You don't want your crown to–"

There's a sudden thud on the ground.

"Oops!" Eleanor’s hands fly up over her mouth as she looks at the plastic crown that slipped off her head, crashing to the floor.

Liam rolls his eyes before offering a kind expression towards his daughter. "Come here, Squirt." He wraps his arms around her, placing tender kisses in her hairline.

"Daddy?" She slides on her glasses. "Is it too late to go back to the ball?"

"Ehh," Liam shakes his wrist, his watch turning for him to read. "It looks like the night is over."

"Aww rats," Eleanor deflates, "Uncle Maxwell was going to play Baby Shark for us to dance to."

"Well," Liam stops, glancing down at his daughter. "Do you still want to dance?"

Eleanor’s eyes light up as she eagerly nods her head. She grabs her father's finger, guiding him to an open area of the room. "What should we do for music?"

"I've got an idea." Liam bends over, holding out his hands, curling his fingers into a C-shape with his thumb. "Ba…by… shark! Do-do-do-do!"

Eleanor squeals, joining in with her father singing and doing the hand motions. They both dance around the room, creating their own dance party they both would never forget.

------

Baron's Ball 10 Years Later…

The rubber soles of her Converse high-tops tap hypnotically against the polished ballroom floor. She anxiously chews on her nails as she watches the other noble children laugh and dance amongst the parents.

She had spent the better part of a day getting ready for the annual event: hair curled, pinned and hair-sprayed into place; make-up carefully fixed to the features of her classic beauty; her baby blue ball gown perfectly tailored to her budding womanly curves. But even though she felt beautiful, she remained nervous of facing the other kids, and she knew she would probably be left alone, no one wanting to dance with her.

Life for Eleanor didn't get easier at royal functions. The bullying and backhanded comments continued over the years. It hurt, but the desire to hide and cry became weaker and weaker as she remembered her father's words so long ago.

Keep your head up…

"May I have this dance?"

Eleanor’s pedal pink lips curl into a bright smile as she turns towards the familiar baritone voice. "Daddy, you said you were going to stay in the–"

"And miss the chance to dance with my beautiful daughter?" He beams.

A soft blush crawls across her cheeks as she takes his hand, following his lead to the dance floor. After a cordial bow, they begin to waltz, their feet gliding across the floor with ease.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Oh, Squirt," he nervously titters, "someday you'll be queen, and these dances with you… well, they'll just be an old man's precious memory."

Eleanor scoffs. "I will always save a dance for you."

Liam laughs. "You might want to take that up with your husband. If he knows how much of treasure you are, he'll never let go–"

"Excuse me, your majesty?"

Liam and Eleanor stop at the timid voice, turning to see Bartie Beaumont mid-bow.

"Son?" Liam gives a curious, yet humored glare.

"I was wondering, that is, if it's okay with you… oh! And if it's okay with your daughter… um…" clearly nervous, the young man takes a cleansing breath as he wipes his palms against his slacks. "May I have this dance?"

Liam turns to his daughter, noticing her eye's brightening by the moment with anticipation. And he smiles. He takes her hand, guiding her closer for Bartie to take it. As they begin to bow, Liam clears his throat, making both Bartie and Eleanor freeze.

"I'm watching you, Beaumont."

"Y-yes, sir," Bartie swallows thickly.

"Daddy," Eleanor growls.

Liam takes his cue and begins to walk away–that is, until he turns around again. "And leave some room in between–"

"Daddy!"

~🖤~

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

~🖤~

Tags (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed)

PERMA

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

ALL TRR

@3pawandme @alyshak92 @iaminlovewithtrr @lovingchoices14 @malblk21 @rubiwalker @sfb123 @twinkleallnight

#the royal romance #the royal heir #choices fanfic #choices fanfiction #choices trr #choices trh #royal roulette #choices flashfics #liam rys #king liam #princess eleanor #bartie beaumont #choices the royal romance #choices the royal heir

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findingdrake · 3 months

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#my mc #choices #choices trh #outfits

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alj4890 · 1 year

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Day 1: Distraction

(Thomas Hunt x OC) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries/ The Royal Heir crossover fic.

Masterlist

Rating: PG for some mentions of sexual situations. Mostly fluff all over.

@krsnlove @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @flyawayboo @trappedinfanfiction @sophxwithers @twinkleallnight @hopelessromantic1352 @tessa-liam @choicesrcd2022 @promptnonny

Premiere Date

Two months earlier...

"Maxwell said the premiere for The Royal Romance will be December first." Amanda balanced her phone on her shoulder while finishing up reviewing the servants' wages. "Would you like to be my date for it?"

"Of course." Thomas jotted it down on his calendar. "I believe we made it official last month that I would be your date from now on."

Amanda couldn't help but smile when she looked at her engagement ring. "Yes, we did but I thought since it is a Tommy Phelps film, that might stretch your affection for me.

Thomas snorted in response. "There are not enough explosives in that man's mixed bag of mediocre cinematic tricks to ever stretch what I feel for you."

"I love how you're able to take an insult to someone else and turn it into something romantic for me." She replied with a giggle.

His lips curved. "As was my intention. I should be in the process of editing my film by then." He double checked the date. "Are you able to remain in Los Angeles after the premiere?"

"I believe so." Amanda flipped through her own calendar. "I don't have any court events I have to attend until after the holidays."

"Good." Thomas motioned for Holly to bring him his schedule for the day. "Then we can begin our plans."

Amanda smiled even more. "Our wedding plans?"

"Exactly." He quickly scanned the day's shots. "I don't intend to start any film projects until the end of next year so that we can enjoy the beginning of our marriage."

Thomas glared over at Holly and Addison making aww noises. He turned away from them in an attempt to keep his conversation private.

"Plus I want us to have a honeymoon away from everyone we know."

His frown eased when he heard Amanda laughing.

"Have you got your usual audience around you again?" She teased.

"I do." He grumbled.

"I see." Amanda smiled softly. "I suppose this means no, I love you, at the end of this call, hmm?

"Of course not." He replied. "I'm not going to let a few irritating individuals stop me from saying that."

"Then I will let you get your day started while I wind down for the evening." She replied. "I love you, Thomas."

"I love you, too." He sent another glare over his shoulder when he heard Addison and Holly's overly dramatic sighs. "Sleep well."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, my love." Amanda promised.

"I look forward to it." Thomas ended the call with a dark frown towards his two assistants. "Don't you have something you should be working on?"

"Just waiting upon your usual demands, boss." Holly replied.

"Is Amanda coming to visit?" Addison asked.

"Unfortunately," he quickly counted the weeks, "not yet."

"You miss her a lot, don't you?" Holly prodded.

"I do." His frown reappeared at them involving themselves in his private life. "Well, don't just stand there! Make sure everyone is waiting on the set!"

Their grins let him know they weren't the least cowed by his bluster of anger. He knew he'd have to do something about that at some point. A soft smile formed as he realized he wasn't too worried about it.

In eight weeks, he'd be back with the one he loved.

*************

Seven weeks later, Taos, New Mexico...

This had to be one of the inner circles of hell Thomas was trapped in. There was no other explanation that could make sense better than that one. All his plans, his intentions, everything was one monstrous nightmare.

Nothing about filming his new take on the western genre was going like he'd envisioned.

He'd lost numerous supporting actors due to some type of food poisoning. Two of his stunt doubles were in the hospital due to accidents off set. The hotel they were originally at caught on fire and most of the costumes were damaged from the smoke and embers.

Holly fell while hiking and twisted her ankle all while dragging Addison with her and causing the costume designer to break her wrist and three fingers.

Matt Rodriguez had to leave for a few weeks, halting production since his character was the one the entire plot revolved around, when his father suffered a heart attack.

Jessica Clarke, Hollywood's favorite new actress since her starring role in Thomas's The Last Duchess, had to stop filming her own horseback riding scenes the moment she found out she was pregnant.

Thomas was certain that all of this was occurring at just the right moment to drive him completely insane.

There was no way he'd be able to up and leave to start over. They were halfway done with filming the needed scenes on location. Plus, the backdrop to this desert town was exactly what he needed to convey the sheer hopelessness of Matt's character finding peace and redemption.

He eyed his phone, knowing he'd have to make the dreaded phone call.

He wouldn't be able to be Amanda's date for the premiere.

He needed to stay and combat these problems.

He knew she would understand. It was one of the many things he adored about her. He simply hated the thought of letting her down. And to be honest, he wasn't looking forward to seeing her in pictures on the arm of anyone else.

Who else was more perfect to be her escort to a movie premiere than the one man many regarded as a cinematic genius?

Thomas rubbed his face, softly groaning at what must be done.

He visibly jumped when his phone vibrated loudly on the table with an incoming call.

"Hello?" He tried to not sound so disgusted.

"Oof." Amanda replied. "That might be the most depressing hello I've ever heard."

Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't know how to begin letting her down.

"Production must be going rough." Amanda softly said. "I'm so sorry."

"What do you have to apologize for?" Thomas snorted. "Unless you have become some maniacal sorceress and placed a curse upon my film, you have nothing to be sorry about."

He realized how bitter his tone was when he was met with nothing but silence.

"Amanda, I apologize." Thomas began again. "I didn't mean to sound like--"

"I know you didn't." She quickly interrupted before he spiraled on with guilt. "I only meant how sorry I am that I can't do anything to make it better for you."

"You make everything better." He grumbled. "In fact, hearing your voice is the only thing keeping me from yanking my hair out right now."

The sound of her laughter bubbling up brought a softening to his frown.

"We can't have that." She sighed. "I hate I won't get to see you next week."

He blinked. "How did you know I wouldn't be able to take you to the premiere?"

Her chuckle held a touch of sadness.

"Because I know how hard this shoot has been for you and I know you need to be there to complete it."

Thomas shook his head, marveling at how she always knew what he needed before he even said a word.

"I'm going to miss you terribly." She continued. "If Maxwell hadn't made us all promise to stick by his side, I'd find a way to sneak over to Taos."

"I understand." He slumped in his chair. "I was looking forward to finally having a chance to be with you." He rubbed a hand down his face. "I'm sorry I can't be there as your date."

"Then you better make plans for when you are free for the two of us." She replied.

Thomas could imagine the smile she must have just by the sound of her voice.

"What kind of plans would you like me to make?" He asked.

"The usual kind, Mr. Hunt." Amanda replied. "Time where we can be alone without anyone or anything else bothering us. I want no distractions taking your attention away from me."

"My favorite kind of plan." His lips curved. "And you should know that every time I am with you, nothing can take my attention away from you."

"That's all I want to hear." Amanda softly sighed. "I probably should let you go so you can get some rest."

"I doubt I'll get any sleep." He grumbled. "I've got another rewrite to work on with Holly."

"Try for my sake." Amanda gently urged.

He groaned.

"I will for you."

"Good. I love you so much."

Thomas relaxed some in knowing she must truly not be upset with him for canceling their plans by hearing her say that.

"I love you, too."

After he ended the call, he sat there staring at nothing in particular while thinking of Amanda. His frown formed once more in knowing she'd be coming to America and he couldn't enjoy her visit.

He reached over for the script, picked up his pen, then paused.

He wondered if there was a chance she could come here after the premiere.

*************

December first...

"Earth calling Thomas, Come in, Thomas."

He looked up, blinking the world around him back into focus.

"Welcome back." Holly grumbled, handing him a new cup of coffee. "Are we going to change up the scene with the argument Jonah and Marlene have since Jessica can't chase him down during the stampede?"

"Hmm?" Thomas glanced at the script. "Yes, of course."

Holly waited for him to give her something to write down.

Thomas stared at the scene for a few silent seconds.

"Okay." Holly threw her pen down. "Talk to me, boss."

Thomas quirked an eyebrow at her.

"We've been moving at a snail's pace with this script. You've barely shot any new footage. Every time I come into your trailer, you're staring off into the distance." She folded her arms. "There's only two possibilities for you to lose focus."

His eyes narrowed.

"The first one," Holly continued, unfazed by his glare, "is that this desert town has now drained your heart of filmmaking."

He rolled his eyes in response.

"Or you are distracted with a serious issue." She concluded.

He averted his eyes from her.

"What's wrong?" Holly repeated. "Come on, Thomas. I've worked with you too many times to be ignored."

He cleared his throat. "I don't know. Each time I think about the scenes that need to be addressed, I find myself..."

He squirmed in his chair, glaring down at his cup of coffee.

"You find yourself, what?" Holly prompted.

"I find myself thinking of Amanda."

Holly sat back with her jaw dropped.

"It isn't that shocking." He grumbled. "She is my fiancée after all."

"I know that." Holly leaned forward. "But I've never known you to be so lost in thought over her that you weren't able to work!"

"I am working!" He snapped.

Thomas snatched his pen up and x'ed out the entire scene. "There!" He threw it down. "I just made a directorial decision!"

"Thomas!" She scolded.

He rubbed a hand down his face.

"Why don't you take the next couple of days off and go see her?" Holly asked.

"Because I have a job to do, here." He argued.

"Which you're sucking at." Holly mumbled

"That was unnecessary." Thomas bit out.

"No. It's pretty necessary." She took the script and set it back in her portfolio. "Take a break. Everyone else has needed one for various reasons. You need one to clear your head so we can finish this shoot strong."

Thomas groaned, shaking his head.

"You know I'm right. Go surprise Amanda. It will put you in a better mood." Holly swiped up her stuff on her way out. "And we certainly need a more pleasant director right now."

"I won't make it in time to take her to the premiere." He mumbled.

Holly paused at the door. "Then get there in time to take her home."

His eyebrows raised while he calculated the hours he'd need to do just that.

*************

"What'd you think?" Maxwell eagerly asked.

"It was amazing!" Riley exclaimed.

"I never said any of that." Drake snapped. "Why did you--"

"I loved it!" Hana interrupted before Drake could destroy Maxwell's excitement. "I wish I was as graceful as Cassandra Leigh."

"You are even more graceful." Liam told her while slipping his arm around Riley. His smile grew when his wife kissed his cheek. "And I am moved seeing our love story come to life."

Olivia rolled her eyes. "At least you made me true to form." She eyed Amanda. "You're awfully quiet."

"Hmm?" She looked up at her friends. "I'm sorry, did you ask me something?"

"The movie?" Maxwell took her by the shoulders to playful shake her. "Remember seeing it just a few minutes ago?"

Amanda laughed. "Yes. It was great."

"It's a shame you were out of the country during all that." Maxwell slung his arm around her shoulders as they followed everyone out to the lobby. "Then you could have been cast as someone awesome."

"I doubt anyone is more awesome than Ryan Summers." She teased. "You lucked out."

"I know!" Maxwell grinned at her. "Wasn't it like looking at my twin brother?"

"Sure."

Once they were out in the lobby, the group looked around at the crowd.

"Now what?" Drake asked.

"After party, baby!" Tommy Phelps joined them. "We are going to celebrate our success!"

"I've been waiting all my life for an after party." Maxwell exclaimed.

"My man!" Tommy fist bumped him. "I knew you would be down for one." He eyed the other Cordonians. "You're all coming too, right?"

"We are." Riley replied. "Right guys?"

Liam, Drake, and Hana answered in the affirmative.

Olivia rolled her eyes with the pleading looks from Maxwell and Riley.

"I suppose I could go for a drink or two." She responded. "Amanda?"

She nudged her when the duchess remained quiet.

"Hmm?" Amanda tried to focus on the conversation. "Oh! No. I'm not going."

"No!" Maxwell pouted. "How come?"

"Jet lag." Amanda latched on to the excuse. "I think I'll go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

After another firmer refusal, she was able to escape her friends.

All she wanted to do was to go back to her room and call Thomas. It felt so wrong being in Los Angeles without him. Her first premiere had been as his date for The Last Duchess. She'd assumed as quickly as their relationship developed that all premieres would be spent by his side.

She could just imagine his reactions to the overly dramatic scenes, the unneeded explosions, and the way the scenes were framed. Her lips curved into a sad smile as she also thought of how he would have remained by her side, his arm around her or holding her hand, whispering that he thought she looked lovely tonight.

She could almost feel the kisses he would have placed upon her knuckles and temple as they sat through the film. Her skin tingled with how he would have insisted they not go to the after party so that they could return to his home for an evening alone.

Her imagination was vivid enough to conjure all they would have gotten up to once within that peaceful, empty of all well meaning friends, and able to express their love. The kisses and caresses that would follow once the door was shut. The clothes slipping off.

Her cheeks colored as she walked outside of the theater. Her eyes scanned the now empty red carpet, searching further for a taxi or town car to take her back to her hotel. The number of limos lined up made her softly groan over the possibility of having to walk a few blocks in her uncomfortable heels.

As she dismissed each limo and waiting driver without a second glance, she doubled back on the sight of a tuxedo clad man leaning causally against a limo.

Thomas watched as recognition flashed in her expression. Unfolding his arms, he broke out into a smile as she rushed to greet him.

Chuckling, he caught her in a hug that lifted her off the ground. His lips sought hers as she slipped her arms around his neck.

"You came." She breathed against his lips.

"I did." He deepened the kiss, feeling at peace for the first time in weeks. "I've missed you."

"Nowhere near as much as I've missed you." She leaned back to look into his handsome face. "I can't believe you're here!"

He took her hands while motioning with his head toward the limo. "Shall we go home?" He eyed the people beginning to spill out. "Unless you have other plans."

Keeping his hand in hers, she got into the limo, tugging him in behind her.

"My plans only involved returning to the hotel and calling you." She snuggled against him once he settled his arm around her. "Now that you're here, I'm rethinking them."

"Oh?" He pressed his lips to the side of her neck. "I hope they align with my own."

She melted against him as his hands began to wander along her curves. Their lips met again and again in a more heated exchange than the last one.

"I feel very confident that our plans are going to align perfectly."

#rcd2022 #rcd appreciation week #choices red carpet diaries #choices thomas hunt #thomas hunt x amanda #thomas hunt x oc #chocies the royal heir #choices trh #choices fanfic writers creations

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angelasscribbles · 2 years

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Heir Apparent Chapter 15: Homecoming

Series: Heir Apparent.

Fandom: The Royal Romance

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

Word Count: 1,776

Rating: R

Warnings: Mature themes, language, Depression, self-harm mentioned, I should tag as infidelity (even though it arguably wasn't, as she had her fiancée's permission for what happened in Vegas, but some people have gotten very upset with me about it, so I'm tagging it as such just to be on the safe side)

A/N: Yes, you guys, it's back! I'm sorry it's been so long since the last update. Other things got in the way, but I do have so many more ideas for this one.

A/N2: My original idea for this was just simply that it never made sense that Drake would agree for his child to be the heir. Under what other circumstances would Riley marry Drake but be mother to the heir? Well....if she were actually pregnant with the heir. The Vegas fling was the perfect vehicle to drive that. Since Drake gave permission for the fling, I didn't anticipate the trauma that ended up happening, but once I started writing, that's what happened. This story went to some much darker places than I ever imagined or planned. Hopefully they are back on solid ground now. We'll see. As I write by the seat of my pants, I often don't know what's coming any more than the readers do! 🤣

Everything else: Master List.

On the ride back to Valtoria, they kept sneaking glances at each other. As if they were both afraid the other was going to disappear. They drove mostly in silence, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable one, like the ride to the palace had been. Both were lost in their own thoughts, the events of the last few days, the last few weeks, had been heavy, there was an overwhelming tiredness mingled with the relief. Now that the gripping fear of losing each other had abated, emotional exhaustion set in.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week.” Riley said. All she’d done in her time at the palace was toss and turn, fall into a fitful sleep, jerk awake, then fight the panic in her chest until she could fall into a restless sleep. Repeat, on loop. Nothing about those three days had been restful.

“Me too.” Drake had no idea how much sleep he’d gotten, but passed out drunk wasn’t exactly the same as restorative sleep. He didn’t sleep well without her next to him anyway. He snuck a quick glance at her as he reached for her hand, “There’s nothing stopping us from climbing into bed and doing exactly that.”

She smiled at him as she took his hand and tears pricked his eyes. He’d had no idea just how tight the vise around his heart had been until it loosened. There was the smile he’d fallen in love with, there was that light in her eyes, there was the expression of love shining from them. He had missed those things so much, had missed her. He’d missed those million little ways she showed she loved him, like the way he’d catch her staring at him from across the room or the way she cut his sandwiches into heart shapes. He grumbled about it. “I’m a grown ass man, Riley.” But secretly it made his stupid heart feel all warm and fuzzy. He squeezed her hand as he forced his attention back to the road.

With his attention fixed on driving, Riley was able to study his face. She leaned her head back against the headrest as she drank in the curve of his face, the way the setting sun filtered through his hair. She smiled at how he always kept his hands precisely at nine o’clock and three o’clock unless he needed a hand free for something. Like holding hers.

She gripped his hand like it was the only thing holding her above water. His touch calmed and soothed her; she hadn’t realized how much until it had been gone. Even when she had been afraid of losing him, even when she had been sunk in depression, even when she had barely responded to him, his presence had been comforting. His touch, brushing her hair out of her face or rubbing her back, had helped. Without him she’d been set adrift, anchorless. She never wanted to experience it again.

“Let’s do it then!” She smiled up at him.

He took his eyes off the road long enough to glance at her face, the dazzling smile he found there made all the unhappiness and uncertainty of the last few weeks just wash away. He drug his eyes reluctantly back to the road. His foot pressed down a little heavier on the gas pedal at the thought of cuddling up next to her in their bed, wrapping his arms around her and not having her pull away.

“Do you need anything before we head up to bed?” He asked her as they entered the house.

“Do we have any chocolate cake?” She asked hopefully.

“You want cake?” He asked in pleased surprise. Eating was definitely a good sign.

“I could eat some.” She admitted, “But really what I want is a bath. I haven’t had one in three days. Poor Liam, I hope he changes the sheets before he sleeps in his bed.”

“Yeah…” Drake pushed away the thought of Liam sleeping on sheets that smelled like his wife.

She caught the hesitancy in his tone, “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-“

“You did nothing wrong, baby. Come on, I’m going to go draw you a bath then I’ll call down to the kitchen for some chocolate cake…chocolate lava cake, how about that?” Liam being in love with her was just a fact of life. There wasn’t much either of them could do about it. He didn’t see the point of talking about it.

Her face lit up, “Oh, yummmm! Yes, please! With milk!”

“You sure about that?”

She nodded emphatically, “I’m sure!”

“Ok, then.” They climbed up the stairs together and entered the bedroom. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply upon entering the room, the familiar smell washing over him. It was a unique mixture of her scent mixed with his own, with a faint whiff of Riley’s favorite fabric softener underlying them both. It smelled like home.

“I’ll…uh…go start you a bath while you pick out some clothes, ok?”

“You don’t have to do that you know.”

“I know. I want to.” He was determined to make sure she never doubted his commitment and devotion again.

When Riley entered the bathroom, she found the tub full of her favorite bubble bath, scented candles flickering on the counter and her favorite bath towel already placed in the warmer. “Wow, this is above and beyond.”

“You deserve above and beyond, Riley.” He told her, “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you didn’t.”

“What?” She looked at him in surprise, “Of course you didn’t! I was the one pushing you away. It seems silly, now. Looking back, all you did was try to be there for me, cooking for me, trying to plan the nursery, you literally held my hair while I puked. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

“Oh, whatever.” He scoffed, “You patched me up after a gunshot wound then refused to sleep all night so you could watch me breath.”

Her face went completely serious, “I’m not a doctor, Drake. I was afraid that if I fell asleep and you started bleeding again-“ the words choked off in a sob.

“Oh, hey, hey! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to upset you!” He was across the room and at her side in two strides. He wrapped her up in his arms, “It’s ok, I survived, see? I’m right here!”

“Sorry.” She sniffed, “Hormones, I guess.” Or, recent events had stirred up those feelings of helplessness and panic when she’d thought she might lose him.

“Don’t apologize. You’re fine.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks, “You’re just tired and emotionally exhausted. I know the feeling. So, let’s just get you into the bath, ok?”

She nodded as he pulled Liam’s shirt over her head and tossed it into the hamper. His motives for getting her out of those clothes and into the bath might have been at least a little selfish on his part. He knew it was probably petty and stupid, but he didn’t like seeing her in Liam’s clothes.

She slipped into the bath and sighed as she stretched out in the extra large claw footed, cast iron tub. She tipped her head up to find Drake still standing there, “Are you just going to stare at me while I take a bath?”

“Uh…I’m kind of afraid to leave you alone. I don’t want you to fall asleep in the tub.” He admitted.

“You could come in here with me.” She suggested.

“Thought you’d never ask!” He grinned at her as he stripped his own clothes off and climbed into the tub behind her.

She scooted forward to give him room. Once he settled in, he pulled her back, so she was leaning against him. She picked up the bottle of shampoo, but he reached out and took it.

“Here, let me do that.” He squeezed some into his hand and rubbed it into her hair.

He worked the shampoo through her hair, fingers massaging her scalp. He felt her body go limp against his. “Hey, don’t fall asleep, ok?”

“Not.” She mumbled, “Just relaxed.”

“Uh-huh.” He poured water over her hair as he rinsed the soap out. “Hand me the conditioner please.”

She handed it over and he opened it, the familiar lavender scent hitting his nostrils as he poured a generous amount into his hand. He smoothed the conditioner into her hair then poured out a second handful. She had a lot of hair. He took his time, using his fingers to comb out any tangles and making sure every bit of hair was coated.

While Drake focused on her hair, Riley lathered soap onto a loofa and washed the front of her body, leaning forward and tossing it over her shoulder to Drake when she was done, “Do my back?”

He moved her hair, gathering the wet, heavy, freshly conditioned mass in his hands and placing it over one shoulder, out of his way. She shivered as his fingers brushed her bare shoulder. He ran the loofa over her back then used his hands to scoop water over her bare skin, rinsing it clean. “Lean back and I’ll rinse your hair.”

She leaned back into his chest and closed her eyes, the warmth of the water around her and the soothing feel of his hands caressing her scalp combined to bring her to the brink of sleep, heaviness overtaking her drooping eyelids. She must have fallen asleep in the tub after all because the next thing she was aware of was being lifted in Drakes arms and deposited into a chair. “Mmmm, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, here.” A towel fresh out of the warmer wrapped around her as another moved across her body, gently drying her.

When she was dry, Drake gathered her in his arms again and carried her to bed, tucking her under the covers before climbing in next to her and pulling her close against his side.

“I never got my cake.” She mumbled into his chest.

A soft laugh rumbled through him, “You can have it for breakfast.”

Her eyes blinked open and fixed on his, “Drake?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For bathing you?” He chuckled again.

“No. I mean, yes, but also….for loving me.”

His arms tightened around her, “Forever, baby, no matter what.”

“Same.” She sighed; her eyes fluttering closed as she lost the fight to stay awake.

Drake buried his nose in her hair and inhaled before kissing the top of her head. Then he held her close as the sound of her breathing lulled him into a contented sleep of his own.

#heir apparent #angelasscribbles #the royal romance fanfic #the royal romance #drake walker #liam rys #riley campbell #riley campbell walker #trr #choices #choices stories you play #drake x mc #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #choices trh #the royal heir

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