Raleigh Carrera - Tumblr Posts
HIT ME UP
Hi yes I'd like to have all the Raleigh Carrera smut please thanks
SARA IS MY NAME. MY NAME IS SARA.
?@$*/#'
Fuck u @playchoices I NEED PLATINUM BOOK 2 3 4 5 6
Nobody
Absolutely nobody
Me: reads all pb fanfics during study breaks till my eyes bleed
God bless all the choices fanfic writers ❤
Linger
pairing | m!raleigh x mc (but she’s not in it)
word count | 637
warnings | a little bit of cursing, a little bit of drinking (or references to drinking)
author’s note | I scrapped my first idea for @platinumweekend about… 2 hours ago. This is what I threw together to make up for it. Sorry if it seems like it was last minute – it literally was. 😅 I also accidentally deleted it when Tumblr refreshed because I changed the size of my browser window. Twice. Raleigh deserves better. I’ll do better next time. Thanks to @blushingpaperwerewolf for the inadvertent inspiration. 😉😁 Characters owned by Pixelberry, blah blah blah. You know the deal.
I thought about putting in a cut, but it’s not even a full page in Word, so fuck it.
He could still smell her on his clothes.
It had been hours since he’d seen her, and still she lingered on him, permeating the very fabric of his being. Muddling his thoughts. Distracting him. Drawing his mind elsewhere as he stood on his balcony overlooking the ever-bustling city below, bottle of tequila in hand.
The sun had long since set and he didn’t bother to try to look up at the stars – he knew the lights of New York City would prevent any from being seen. But the city couldn’t stop the wind, and it swept around him, picking up her perfume and filling him with an intoxication that sure as shit wasn’t coming from his drink.
He could still feel the warmth of her body against his. The sensation of her hand in his, their fingers intertwined. Points of heat where she’d touched him. The line she’d drawn down his neck when she’d kissed him. Dragged her lips over his skin and set his heart racing.
She hadn’t known he wasn’t reacting to the paparazzi when he’d agreed with her on how much their ruse was working – any of the times he’d said it. Not the first time when she took his hand at the table and he’d laced his fingers with hers. Not when they kissed on the grass in Central Park. Or later, when they’d slowly walked back to the limo, simply enjoying each other’s company.
Each time she’d commented on how well their act was playing out, he’d responded in kind, but he’d always been talking about her. How well her act was winning him over.
Not that he was in love with her or anything, of course. He was a seasoned professional, had been in several of these relationships-for-show. Got to be pretty good friends with some of them, but never had an attachment before. Just like he didn’t have an attachment now.
But he’d already nearly finished this bottle and he could still taste her on his lips. Fuck she’d tasted good. Like she had the first time, when they kissed backstage at One in a Million. When he was merely teasing her, flirting with her because she was hot and that’s what he did.
What he didn’t do was stand outside of his apartment and try to drink away the thoughts of his newest fake girlfriend. Someone he was going to be spending an awful lot of time with over the next howevermany weeks. Someone he was supposed to be pretend falling in love with.
With a frustrated groan, he ran a hand over his face and through his hair. What bullshit. She was even ruining his tequila time with her… continual presence despite not actually being there. He took a long pull from the bottle, letting the acerbic liquid sear a path down his throat, finding comfort in the way it burned.
He’d get over this – whatever this was. They were only “together” because of her goody two shoes image and the mutual benefit this “relationship” served to their individual careers. She wouldn’t be able to keep up with him and this charade would be over before he knew it. He’d just liked that she didn’t know who he was when they first met. The thrill of anonymity would wear off soon enough, and with it, any other lingering interest he might’ve had.
Tipping the bottle back one more time, he drained the last of its contents as he walked back inside, dropping the now-empty vessel on the kitchen counter. He peeled off his clothes and left them in a discarded trail to the bathroom, where he showered and brushed his teeth before throwing himself into bed.
But when he took a deep breath as he drifted off to sleep, all he could smell was her.
I might like him at first more (I mean in just a pencil version), but it turned out not that bad in the end too ;D
Sorry, but I am not a fan of Raleigh’s moustache, so I tried to “shave“ him in this sketch. ;D
