Catch and Release
Iâm back, Tumblr! Unsure if anyone even realized I was gone, but I have missed sharing stories with you guys. I am slowly easing my way back into writing on a somewhat semi-regular basis; currently working on a couple of items on my WIP Wishlist, and Stormholt.
First up is a story that is my âhold my beerâ response to a recent conversation I had with @ao719 about how Liam would never be a cold-hearted asshole EVER, even in the face of betrayal. This is a rewrite of the Drake and candles scene during the Homecoming Ball, sans assassins.
This is a one-shot, but already toying with an alternate version âŚ.
THANK YOU to all who read this over in parts and pieces! The key smashes and follow-up questions reminded me why I love writing, and sharing on this hellsite.
To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated more than you realize.
Please excuse any and all typos, grammatical errors, and missing/extraneous words. MS Editor rates this piece as 99% error free.
Song Inspo: Fine Line, Harry Styles
Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley
Rating: M for Mature for a smallish, unripe lemon
Word Count: 3,213
I canât breathe.
My arms are stiff by my sides, hands tightly clenched into fists. The pain in my heart aches and pulses with every breath I draw. The rage that boils my blood also tightens my throat. Images flicker through my brain, snapshots of the scene I walked in on. Even as my mind reels from the betrayal and my heart falls into a million pieces that shred me from the inside out, I still try to justify and deny.
My eyes are fixed on my fiancĂŠe who still sits on the edge of her bed; her eyes are trained on her slip-covered lap. I notice the fingers of one of her hands comb through her hair; the other hand lays limply against silk sheets.
Her skin is golden in the candlelight, her hitched sobs mixing with the crackle and hiss of the wax torchesâ flames. Â For reasons known only to Drake and Riley, there are dozens of lit candles covering nearly every available surface. No lamplight, no overhead lighting.
Just candles.
Sheâs the most beautiful woman Iâve ever seen, and the only woman Iâve ever hated.
No. I donât hate her, not really. But in this very moment, I see why crimes of passion are committed.
Drake. Naked. Kissing her neck before their lips lock in a heated kiss.
Riley. Clad in only a slip. One of her hands stroking his member as she slides to her knees.
âLiam,â she says softly in a quavering voice.
I shake my head slowly. âNo, Riley. Whatever you have to say right now, I donât want to hear it.â
She swings her leg; itâs a nervous habit she has. One of the swings increases into a stretch and I wonder if itâs deliberate. Her leg is long and tanned; my eyes take in a luscious thigh leading into a toned calf that flows into a shapely ankle. Her perfectly manicured toes point downward as she arches her foot.
Her limb is suspended for a moment too long before it falls.
The moment it takes for my cock to stiffen and butterflies to take up residence in my stomach.
She turns her face towards me; I see her lipstick smeared across her mouth, shiny streaks on her cheeks, and regret in her eyes.
Regret. Not remorse.
âIâm sorry you had to find out this way.â Her voice is thick with tears.
Our relationship has been littered with apologies ⌠always from me ⌠beginning with our first meeting. If I could, I would laugh at the irony that the one apology I find myself repeating stemmed from accusations of the American suitor being unfaithful to the future King.
The rumors werenât so unfounded after all.
This is her first admission of guilt and/or wrongdoing our entire time together.
She has no choice.
I attempt a deep inhale, but my chest is too tight.
The wedding is in one week.
âYes, Liam yes!!! A THOUSAND TIMES, yes!â
Tonight is the Homecoming Ball; a celebration of many things, including our engagement.
I caught her ⌠them ⌠the woman I love madly, truly, deeply and the man I trust more than anything in the world ⌠preparing to indulge in an act I consider so sacred, I have never dared to ask her to perform it while we are merely engaged.
I manage to choke out a single question. âWhy?â
Her shoulders slump as her head falls forward, causing her hair to cover her profile. âIt hasnât been going on long; it started on the Engagement Tour. I told him in Vegas that what we had would have to end.â
I watched her leave the stag-and-doe party arm-in-arm with Drake Walker. My best friend, with whom Riley wanted to have a fling. She swore it was a one-time affair; she was so much in love with me, but she wished to satisfy her curiosity.
I attempted to leave first, but I was not only one of the honorees, I was also King.
Per traditional protocol, the King is the last to leave.
So I remained behind, drinking copious amounts of American liquor, making small talk in a loud voice so as to be heard over noisy music, and dancing with women I had previously rejected.
All while Riley spent the night with another man.
âBut it hasnât,â I interrupt harshly, abruptly.
Her gaze lands briefly upon me, an irritated scowl marring her features. âI donât love him,â she says simply, as if that excused everything.
I turn away from her; as disgusted as I am, I still find Riley Brooks distractingly desirable. I say that as if weâve been treading this road of infidelity and discovery for years and years. Except itâs only been months since we first met, and if I hadnât come looking for her this evening, I still would be none the wiser.
She was in my arms, kissing me deeply as we waltzed our way around the ballroom barely an hour ago.Â
We beamed brightly at each other and the crowd as the gathering toasted us with champagne and strawberries.
I smoked a celebratory cigar with Drake.
An hour ago, I was the luckiest man in the world. I was happy.
Now ... Iâm heartbroken.
I stumble my way towards a wingback chair, pausing to shrug out of my dinner jacket and drape it across the back of it. I sit heavily, legs spread slightly apart; I push off my shoes and undo my tie while maintaining eye contact with my fiancĂŠe.
âIâm highly upset with you, Riley. This ⌠this has hurt me. Deeply.â
âI know,â she whispers as the back of her hand swipes at errant tears. âOther than promising that this will never happen again, what can I do to make it up to you?â
The pad of my forefinger taps my chin thoughtfully as my eyes scan the room. I see the flames flicker and dance in silhouette against the walls. One of Drakeâs shoes lies on its side near her night table.
When I cleared my throat to announce my presence, his eyes had gone wide as his face paled. Drake gathered his clothing, trying vainly to make eye contact with Riley; however, she was suddenly fascinated with the pattern decorating the carpet.
I could practically hear his unspoken question to her: What does this mean for us?
In less than a minute, my âbest friendâ was half-dressed and ran out, not speaking one word to either me or Riley.
âIâm not sure. You know I harbor trust issues about being open, honest ⌠vulnerable, with women. No oneâs ever wanted Liam for Liam; I have always been merely a conduit to bigger and better.â
And apparently, best friends.
âLiam, I love YOU. Not your moniker, not your wealth. Tonight ⌠with Drake ⌠was a moment of weakness!  YOU are my bigger and better!
I arch an eyebrow. âWhatever the excuse, your love for me doesnât diminish the lust you have for him.â
She has the decency to look ashamed.
âPlease, Liam! It wonât happen again, I swear it! You mean too much to me! Just tell me how to make this up to you!â
Her pleas are urgent, not fervent. Insincere, almost.
I find the lack of apology perturbing.
 It is obvious she has no idea the jeopardy she has put me, and our relationship in. Very few at Court are in favor of our impending nuptials due to the simple fact that a union with a foreign commoner yields nothing for the Crown. A marriage with Riley does not increase Cordoniaâs landholdings; it does not give the country seats at tables where we are already overlooked; I, and by extension Cordonia, gain absolutely nothing from this.
Riley is the only winner here.
And I donât care.
The last thing my country is worried about is its fiscal health. Our prosperity is guaranteed for the next 80 generations without investments and development. All I wanted from Riley was her love and loyalty; with that, I would be able to scale mountains and slay dragons. But even the bare minimum I require is too much for her to give.
But Iâm in love with her. Even now, I canât not be with her in some fashion. I need to know that she is still mine, even if only in the basest of ways.
I unfasten my belt buckle and undo my pant button; my cock is uncomfortably hard. I crook my finger, beckoning her to me, wondering how many times the woman I have put first, the woman who influences my thoughts, actions, my very decisions has given me sloppy seconds.
An expression fleetingly crosses Rileyâs face; I am uncertain if itâs hope or smugness. After a momentâs hesitation, her walk of shame towards me is contrite, yet confident. Like a child who knows theyâve done wrong but realizes a way of escaping punishment.
I tug my zipper down before slipping my hand inside to release my raging erection. The head of my cock is purplish in the muted lighting and pre-cum leaks from the tip. My hips arch upwards as I begin to pull my pants and underwear down. My eyes glance up to see Riley standing expectantly before me.
It reminds me of our first meeting in that bar in Brooklyn.
âA little help would be nice,â I quip with a small smile that doesnât feel quite right.
She kneels before me, pulling and tugging at my trousers and silk boxers. My eyes are trained on the rounded tops of her cleavage as my hand slowly slides along my member. Once Rileyâs task is finished, she looks up at me with repentant eyes.
âDo you forgive me, Liam?â Her voice is hesitant, her tone tentative.
I lean forward, the back of my fingertips caressing the curve of her cheek. âIâm in love with you, Riley. Thereâs nothing to forgive,â I assure her in a soft whisper.
She leans into my palm. âI love you so much. Iâll never lie to you, or hurt you ever again,â she promises.
I aim my cock towards her plump lips, still smeared from her earlier kiss with Drake. Small halos of smoke wreath her hair.
âWould you ⌠could you ⌠perform oral on me?â My voice is shy, hesitant. Even in the face of her obvious infidelity, I am uncomfortable asking her this.
Her eyes fill with relief that forgiveness would come so easily, and wariness at the request. âYouâve never asked for that before.â
I lock eyes with her before quietly replying, âWeâre betrothed.â
She nods in understanding. If that act is good enough for her lover, itâs certainly good enough for the man who will make her Queen.
Riley places her palms flat against the top of my thighs; her head dips and I feel the tip of her tongue lightly lick my balls. It tickles, but no mirth escapes my lips. Without thought my hand drifts to the top of her head, fingers combing through her soft hair.
The flat of her tongue licks wetly up the underside of my cock while she cups a hand to fondle my balls. I stare down at her cleavage, the rounded tops of her breasts teasing me as they rise and fall in time with her breathing and ministrations.
My head falls back against the chairâs headrest when her mouth opens wide enough to engulf half of my cock. When she has a tad over half of me in her mouth, she hollows her cheeks and snakes her tongue around my erection while stroking its base.
Memories and images flash in my mind as my hand tightens its grip on her hair.
Kismet.
The Masquerade Ball
Hedge Maze
Cronuts
Forgotten Falls
Deep pants escape my lips as I simultaneously lift my head and slide down further into the chair; my hips arch upwards. Rileyâs head bobs as she sucks me. A thin line of drool ekes from a corner of her mouth. My cock eases deeper down her throat, and my hand pulls and pushes at her head to get to take all of me.
I close my eyes as her warm mouth tightens around me.
Coronation Night
Fydelia
Barn Raising
Italy
Her gagging breaks my reverie and hardens my cock even more. I sit up, my palms pressed against either side of her skull as I begin fucking her mouth. Her eyes are closed; bliss or boredom, I donât know. Her lashes are dark against her skin.
âLook at me,â I order in a voice that isnât mine.
Obediently her eyes open; her jaw and chin are wet with spittle and pre-cum. She continues to suck me, emitting low moans over my member. My strokes get faster, longer, rougher. My balls are heavy, and I feel a tightening in my muscles before the last image flashes before me.
The scene I walked in on.
With a harsh yank, I pull her even further down onto my cock as I push myself down her esophagus as far as I can. A primal yell rips from my throat as an intense orgasm comes over me. My body shudders and convulses as ropes of white cream pulse out of me.
As my seed fills my fiancĂŠeâs mouth and spills down her throat, I forcefully tug her hair so she is looking up at me; her eyes are questioning.
It takes me a moment to compose myself and catch my breath. I watch Riley swallow all that I have given her.
âThe engagement is off. Our relationship is over. I am finished, do you understand me?â My voice is gravelly, tone firm. âYou shall retain your title of Duchess, and ownership of Duchy Valtoria, but you will never be my Queen.â
Fright and fear fill her eyes. The heels of her hands press deeper into my flesh as she attempts to pull away from my cock, but I donât relinquish my hold.
âA press release will go out tomorrow afternoon, after security and housekeeping move you and your belongings to the South Wing. Â I think you will appreciate being closer to Drake Walker.â
I release Rileyâs hair, and she falls back on her haunches.
âWHAT are you talking about??â she demands angrily.
I stand and begin collecting my clothing; I step into my boxers, glancing over at her.
âI trust you fully comprehend what I just stated. I believe I communicated openly and honestly what our next steps are. Already, I have offered you more than you or Drake have ever given me.â
I glance at her left hand; the engagement ring glints in the light. âI would like my ring back, please.â
I am tucking my shirt into my pants when I see her rise from the floor and come at me, fists flailing. Her pummels upon my arm and shoulder are no surprise.
âYOU BASTARD! YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!â she rasps as her fists beat on my shirt. âYOU JUST SAID THERE IS NOTHING TO FORGIVE!â
I do not defend myself against the attack; I merely sidestep and continue dressing.
âAnd there isnât. I will once again assume the guilt and blame for your lack of transparency and communication. But this is the last time. Weâre over.â
I reach for my jacket from the back of the chair and begin to pull it on. Rileyâs face is twisted in rage and hurt; her eyes are narrowed into slits.
I look her over impassively and hold my hand out, palm up. âThe ring, Lady Riley.â
âFUCK YOU,â she shrieks. âThis is ALLLL your fault, and you KNOW IT! If you had never picked Madeleine âŚâ
âI picked her because neither you nor your lover felt the need to tell me what happened in Applewood, something I have never been offered an assurance or reason for. I made a decision for your safety and protection with absolutely no context. I have apologized and explained this to you over and over and over again.â
Riley blanches before playing her last card. âMy BEST protection wouldâve been with you, under your care!â
âMy engagement to Madeleine was the most viable protection. With all eyes on me and my fiancĂŠe, ittook the target off you, and freed up our friend circle to freely pursue Tariq with the aid of my HEAD GUARD!â
I cut my eyes at her. âPresumably you were too busy justifying spending all of your time with another to even consider that I was the doing the very best I could in a situation that I was blindly thrust into.â
I jostle my hand impatiently. âThe ring,â I remind her.
Her mouth hangs open slightly, her eyes baffled as she slowly pulls off the engagement ring. Her fingers hover above my palm before dropping the jewelry into it.
âLiam, why are you doing this to me? To us?â she asks brokenly.
I am slipping the ring into my jacket pocket; I pause to look up at her in puzzlement.
âMe? You did this, Riley. You have been holding onto one incident our entire relationship while committing multiple transgressions against my love for you. You accepted my proposal. You betrayed my trust when it was unnecessary. Iâve been the one saying sorry, being tormented by guilt, feeling less than for not being there to protect and defend you. And the whole while, you were with Drake.â
âI was single when I was with Drake!â she hollers.
âWere you single after accepting my proposal? Were you single tonight when you were getting on your knees for him?â I challenge in a cold voice.
Riley looks around helplessly before offering more feeble excuses. âI was tipsy! He caught me in a moment of weakness! I SWEAR to you, itâll never happen again!â
I am at the door, my hand on the doorknob, twisting it.
âLiam, you still love me! I never stopped loving you. We can work through this!â Her words are rushed, laced with desperation.
But they strike a nerve, sparking hope.
 My head drops and my eyes close; my feelings and her words tumble in my brain. I breathe out a deep sigh and turn to look at her.
âYou want me to forgive you, yet you have never forgiven me.â
The door is slightly ajar and light from the hall spills into the doorway; chatter and merriment from the party can be heard. It muffles the last break of my heart. But I do not leave immediately. Instead, my hand falls from the knob, and I deliberately make my way back to her.
The merest of fractions separates us. My eyes take in her tousled hair, ruined makeup, her curves and swells making an hourglass of the slip.
I pull her in for an embrace, which she eagerly responds to. Her body fits perfectly against mine as it always has. Familiar scents assail my nostrils: strawberry shampoo, coconut rose lotion, jasmine and vanilla perfume.
I wonder if Iâm making a mistake.
âRiley, I am in love with you but itâs apparent that even with all my wealth and resources, it isnât enough for you. Iâm not enough for you. We both deserve to be people who will find us ... sufficient, not supplemental.â
She is silent as tears fill her eyes again; I brush them away from her lashes and cheekbones before I place a gentle, lingering kiss on her forehead.
Her lack of reassurances and promises tells me Iâm not.
âThank you for giving me the Drake Walker treatment,â I say politely as my eyes burn from smoke and unshed tears.
And I let her go.
Her hand reaches for me, but she lets it fall as she watches me exit the room, closing the door quietly behind me.
Tagging: @jared2612 @marietrinmimi @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @beezm@gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @gardeningourmet @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @lovingchoices14 @lady-calypso @choicesficwriterscreations @queenjilian
I...I have all these feels right now.....and I'M LOVING IT!!!!!
You know I'm đđ for part 2












