#raleigh carrera x MC

[a-cloud-for-dreams]

Overthinking

Summary: Raleigh gets his sister's unsolicited opinion regarding his love life

Pairing/Characters: Raleigh Carrera x F!MC (Destiny Katz; No Appearence); feat. Aaliyah Hadid

Book: Platinum

Rating: General

A/N: Omg another draft I'm on a roll imao, hope you like it! Also, just to clarify, Aaliyah and Raleigh are actually half-siblings. It's not super relevant to this fic but I thought I would point it out

"Does it always take you this long to send a text message, Ral?"

Raleigh practically jumped at her sister's sudden appearance behind him. "What the hell, Liya?!" She chuckled and handed him a glass of apple cider.

"As someone who works for the FBI," Raleigh rolled his eyes before Aaliyah could finish her sentence, which earned him a slap on the shoulder. "AHEM! Roll your eyes at me again and see what happens."

"Cute, is that what all FBI agents say? Or is it just insufferable sisters who never shut up about being an agent," he said, casually shielding the screen from her.

"I was actually going to say you're horrible at being sneaky. Like anyone could see you nervously attempting to text her from a mile away. You usually only take a few seconds to reply to texts."

"Okay, Genius," He mumbled, knowing it wasn't a great insult if it was technically true.

Raleigh sighed and invited her to sit next to him. She settled herself onto the couch and rested her head on her palm. "Why are you so jumpy? Are you asking her out on a first date or something?"

"I wouldn't say first date..."

Aaliyah gasps dramatically. "Raleigh Bartholomew Carrera!"

"How are your fake middle names only getting worse-"

"You're falling in love with your fake girlfriend!" she says uncharacteristically excitedly. She clapped her hands like an eager child who was given candy. "What's her name again?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he asks sarcastically.

"...Yes Ral, that's why I'm asking," Aaliyah sighed, her eyebrows furrowed as she thinks. "Wait! It's the One in a Million winner...something Katz? She was incredible."

Destiny.

"Shocking. You guessed who it was by using the internet," he scoffed.

"Destiny!" she called out, ignoring his tone. "Maybe it was fate you were both meant to be in love." She gently elbowed him. Raleigh didn't like getting his hopes up, but the fact that his own sister was being so optimistic about his relationship which she never was had to mean something, right?

"We have to go on another fake date before some award show and I remembered she said she's always wanted to go to an opera."

Aaliyah groaned. "Then take her to the opera, Ral! You don't need to overthink that part of the date right now. You already know her and what she likes and from the way you describe her, I'm 100% sure she likes you back. Now focus on being a good guy. I could see the headlines now: Raleigh Carrera's New Relationship Shows Operatunity."

"Since when do you care about my public image?"

"I don't. I care about your publisher not dying of stress," she comments, casually stealing the phone from him. "You know what? I'm going to handle this, just stay back until I get your final text approval."

"Whatever." Aaliyah smiles and furiously texts away at what she considers a perfect response. Raleigh leans back and sips the cold apple cider and suppresses a laugh. It's been a while since he's last cared this much about impressing a fake girlfriend. Or making sure they eventually end things on a good note.

Hopefully, he doesn't mess it up.

A/N: And the two meet Ethan and my MC at the opera. End of story

@choicesficwriterscreations

[peonierose]

Top 10 works

For @choicesfandomappreciation Top 10 I’ve wanted to list my favorite Top 10 stories. I can’t believe I can even say I have written 10 stories and more to begin with 🥰 Who knew these stories and characters would become so important to me? But I’m glad I took the plunge, sat down and wrote some stories. I hope they can make people smile and make their better at least for a little while.

Thank you to anyone in this family fandom - as I like to call it - who is kind and supportive and gave me and my characters and stories a chance 🩷

1. Wildflower - Keiki Lahela (F!MC) x Koa Haulani (M!OC)

2. Go Blonder - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

3. I‘m a Sucker for You - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

4. Cinnamon Sugar - Maxine Moore (F!OC) x Adam Sinclair (M!OC)

5. Both are good - Bryce Lahela (M!MC) x Raleigh Carrera (M!MC) with @aallotarenunelma 🩷

6. ”How were we ever strangers…“ - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

7. Cake by the Ocean - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

8. Wake Up Little Susie - Chapter 1 - Gretel van Andresen (F!OC) and Hänsel van Andresen (M!OC)

9. Paint Wars - Luna Auclair (F!OC) x Bryce Lahela (M!MC)

10. Girls Night Out - Chapter 1 - What’s the secret password? - Characters involved: Jenny, Emma Anderson (F!MC), Addison Dalton, Sofia Russo, Sam Dalton, Robin Flores and Carter

[choicesficwriterscreations]

Open Heart FotW - Mar 19 - 25, 2023

✒️= Fanfic | 📱= Text Fics/Edits | 🎨= Fanart Ⓜ️ = Mature Content 18+ | 🔥 = Explicit/NSFW 18+

Ethan Ramsey x F!MC

Almost Home ✒️- @jerzwriter

Bad Dreams ✒️- @liaromancewriter

Crossroads (Series) - @trappedinfanfiction Part 1: Thunder ✒️Ⓜ️

No Cure... ✒️- @jerzwriter

Time Away ✒️- @potionsprefect

Ethan Ramsey x M!MC

Irresistible Force Paradox (Series) - @justcallmefox89 Chapter Two ✒️

Tobias Carrick x F!MC

Karma ✒️- @lucy-268

The Missing Piece ✒️- @jerzwriter

Platonic Fics

Rock On ✒️| Sienna Trinh, F!MC, Raleigh Carrera (Platinum) - @liaromancewriter

CFWC Main FotW List

TRR FotW List

[choicesflashfics]

Week 25 Prompts:

“You’ve given me enough memories to last a lifetime.”

“Not all love stories get a ‘happily ever after.’ Sometimes … it’s just once upon a time.”

“I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

Trace the Steps - @ao719 (The Royal Romance; Liam x F!MC)

Memories of You - @bebepac (The Royal Romance; F!MC x M!OC)

Marabelle - Falling (Ch. 3) - @tessa-liam (The Royal Romance; Liam x F!OC)

Rock On - @liaromancewriter (Open Heart; Sienna Trinh, F!MC, Raleigh Carrera from Platinum)

[alj4890masterlist]

30 various Choices drabbles all centered around kiss prompts. *Updated list of kiss prompts and pairings*

Evidence (Thomas Hunt x OC)

The Green-Eyed Monster (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

The Statement (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont)

Escaping for a Moment (Ernest Sinclaire x MC)

Silence (Drake Walker x Olivia Nevrakis)

The Sleeping Bag (Aislinn Tanaka x M!MC) *NSFW*

The Truth Comes Out (Hugh Crawford x MC)

The Apology (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

On Impulse (Maxwell Beaumont x OC)

Making It Believable (Prince Emerick Rhys x Juliet Nevrakis-Walker)

It's Over (Leo x Madeleine)

Over the Top (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

In Times of Comfort (Thomas Hunt x OC)

To Make It Better (Tom Sato x F!MC)

Just Try (Liam x Madeleine)

Slipping Away Together (Thomas Hunt x OC)

So This is Goodbye? (Jax Matsuo x MC)

Visceral Reaction (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

From the Heart (Ethan Ramsey x OC)

Anytime, Anywhere (Liam x MC)

Just You and Me (Prince Ellis Rhys x Emily Beaumont)

Snap (Bertrand Beaumont x MC)

Sparks of Hope (Thomas Hunt x OC)

The Promise (Liam and his daughter)

Right At Last (Jackson Nevrakis-Walker x Nicky Beaumont)

Just a Dream (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

It's Time to Say Goodbye (Maxwell Beaumont x OC)

Second Thoughts (Raleigh Carrera x MC) *NSFW*

Washing Away Your Troubles (Trystan Thorne x F!MC) *NSFW*

Confession Time (Thomas Hunt x OC)

[openheartfanfics]

Newly Added Fics

Mar 18 - 31, 2023  

🎭 Angst  |  🦚 Angsty Fluff  |  🛸 AU  |  ☁ Fluff  |  ♥ NSFW  |  📚 Series  |  📷 Edit  |  📱 TextFic  |  Ⓜ Mature

ETHAN X F!MC

Bad Dreams - @liaromancewriter ☁

Ethan finds that stubbornness runs deep in his family. [Domestic; Family]

Common Ground - @inlocusmads ☁

First dates suck. But if you are anything like Ethan and Jane, dissimilar but happy to listen and also incredibly chaotic, you might just have a good time. [Date]

Highways & Byways - @jerzwriter ☁Ⓜ

Ethan & Kaycee were on an early morning drive to Providence, and Kaycee finds the highway signs inspiring.

If Only I Could - @cariantha 🎭

After conducting surveillance on Louise, Sawyer is frustrated with Ethan’s mixed signals. [2.7]

ETHAN X TOBIAS

Daddies and Doctors - @beyondsimsreality ☁

Tobias and Ethan take out their kids. [Platonic]

Sorry, Tobias - @jerzwriter ☁

Tobias wants Kaycee to introduce him to her gorgeous friend, but when he won't take no for an answer, Kaycee has to set him straight. [Platonic]

SIENNA TRINH

Rock On - @liaromancewriter ☁

Sienna and Cassie meet an international rockstar. An OH/Platinum cross over fic. Feat. M!Raleigh Carrera [Platonic]

SIENNA X M!OC

When The Clock Strikes Twelve - @liaromancewriter 🛸🦚

Max tries to take his shot with Sienna, but obstacles have him doubting if they’re inevitable.

TOBIAS X F!MC

Highways & Byways - @jerzwriter ☁Ⓜ

Tobias & Casey heading out of Boston to head to his college reunion in DC for the weekend. Tobias never saw the sign, but Casey did.

Karma - @lucy-268 🎭

After Samantha and Tobias break up, Tobias has regrets. Feat. Bryce Lahela, Sienna Trinh

The Missing Piece - @jerzwriter ☁

Casey's heading out for a night with friends, and Tobias is on Dad duty.  The night goes well overall, but it's not complete until Casey returns home. [Domestic; Family]

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[raleighcarrera]

“you make me feel like i want to tell you things. i don’t know why.”

thank you so much to @kingkangs for this gorgeous commission of one of my favorite raleigh moments ever for @platinumweekend !!

[homeformyheart]

more hugs - featuring m!raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian) for @platinumweekend

commissioned from the amazing @kissingagrumpygiant. they are so cute!!

*goes without saying, but do not repost.

[pixelsandkink]

Your Skin Like a River

Pairing: M!Raleigh x MC (Parker) Rating: E Word Count: ~3,400 Summary: A night in the desert. 

Notes: For @platinumweekend! I said, “oh friends, what should I write for PlatAW?” And I believe that there was a resounding chorus of “sm*t??” and well, it’s sort of weird and meandering, but it sure does fit the bill! I hope you like it! The title is from Mac Miller’s “Skin” because naturally.  

CW: besides general sm*t, there is gentle, recreational drug use (m*rijuana) and these characters have the s*x after they partake SO. _______________

It’s very irritating but she probably falls in love with Raleigh a dozen different times a day. 

He should be annoying her right now. This whole trip should be annoying her. This “artist’s retreat” for his album. She’d thought it was an excuse to have all their friends filter in and out of the house they’ve rented in the desert for the summer. It is, a bit, but she can’t deny there is a certain...magic in the air. 

They’re making something. 

Creating something. 

And she’s falling in love again, watching him. They’re singing a song that’s not an original, but she doesn’t know it. Raleigh knows it by heart though, and he’s beating out it’s rhythms on his body. The clap of a hand against his chest or his thigh is all the percussion they need. 

His voice rings out, clear and pulled into long syllables. The song, it’s very old-school, from the sixties maybe, and more blues than anything else. It gives him room to run and stretch and play. Improvisations that emphasize the gravel in his tone, and the silky smoothness he can conjure. 

Parker can’t help but smile as the song morphs, as Raleigh starts scratching out words on a notepad and Cameron’s guitar strums with something a little funkier and soon it's turning into something else. 

She’s proud of him. He’s making an album that he’s going to be excited to put his name on, when it's all said and done. If she smiles at him with extra happiness, who can blame her? She’s probably still smiling when she blinks a couple of times and Cameron laughs. 

“Sleeping Beauty’s fading.” 

Parker flips him off and Raleigh laughs too. He reaches over and gives her a squeeze at the nape of her neck. “Come on, baby, I’ll walk you home.” 

This is a nonsensical statement. The fire pit is maybe twenty feet from the house, and nothing is going to grab her between here and there, but she likes holding his hand on the stroll and the way he gives her another squeeze at the top of the stairs. 

“I’m not going to be able to stay asleep,” she complains. The same complaint she’s made nearly about every night since they arrived.

Raleigh leans against the wall beside the door as Parker shucks off her jeans. His eyes linger as she strips all the way down to nothing before wriggling into a tiny pair of cotton shorts and a tank top. 

She’s probably too gross to climb into their sheets, because the dust gets everywhere out here, but she can’t bring herself to care. She gets into the bed with a huff and steals his pillow, and he shakes his head too indulgently. 

“Wow,” he says, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Your poor mom.” 

“Shut up,” she returns. “I’m just mad because I won’t be able to sleep through the night.” 

She hasn’t since they got here. Since before that. It’s a good thing, sort of. She works a lot. She likes to write songs, but she also has a lot of meetings and appearances but Raleigh says it's stress. This whole thing was meant to be a vacation for her, technically speaking. But still. The sleep thing. Not going so well. 

“Maybe tonight’s your night.” 

“Maybe.” A beat. “But probably not.” 

Raleigh sniggers. “Yeah, okay.” 

He kisses her forehead, and pads out of the room, leaving her to the dark. 

***

She’s probably only been asleep an hour. Maybe two. Raleigh hasn’t come to bed yet. His side is cold. 

The house is quiet when she steps out onto the landing but she thinks he must be in the basement. It’s soundproof. The reason they picked this place. He won’t cut any demos or anything, but he’s been getting a lot of writing done and some recordings with shit audio. 

Parker kind of envies that he’s gotten so much work done, even though this is supposed to be a vacation, even though she’s supposed to be relaxing. 

The thought makes her snort as the screen door at the back of the house screeches open on shouting hinges. The deep freezer plugged in on the porch has to work hard to do its job. But even if it failed, it wouldn’t matter. 

There’s nothing in there but popsicles. Every flavor they can scavenge: orange, grape, raspberry, blueberry, lime. They go through them like children, and every time someone is sent into town, the number of boxes requested grows bigger. 

She plucks a cherry popsicle (she’ll have to get more before Micah comes back, they’re his favorite too) from the depths of the freezer. She leaves the wrapper on to catch the syrupy red drops, but quickly discards it in favor of faster eating. 

The dust really does get fucking everywhere. It's on the backs of her thighs as she settles on the porch, popsicle between her lips and phone in her hand. Their signal is awful, which is, again, the point, but the phone is a habit more than anything else, one she hasn’t managed to break yet.

She hears him before he makes an appearance, his long brown legs as he settles in beside her. 

He doesn’t say anything at all, his gaze drops down to the cherry popsicle tucked between her lips. His mouth curved in a presumptuous smirk, and then he lights the joint dangling between his fingers. 

He doesn’t hit it first, instead passing it straight to her. 

“Aww baby,” she says in a tone that drips with a little too much sweetness, “you roll this for me?”

The end burns a bright, sunset orange as she inhales. And when she exhales, the smoke rolls out; undulating waves of white before it breaks apart, dissipating like seafoam. It feels like that inside her too. 

She huffs with amusement, talking around her popsicle. “That’s Avery’s weed.” 

Raleigh’s grin is exasperated. “Still won’t tell me who his guy is. What a shit.” 

He refuses when she goes to pass it back, and she hits it again. This time he leans forward to catch the exhale as it happens, runaway fog streaming into his mouth. He always makes her heart race when he’s this close, when he’s close enough to feel his warmth. When his mouth is open just enough for her to remember how it feels when he kisses her. He looks self-satisfied as he sits back, like he knows exactly what she’s thinking. They simply stare at one another while she digs her toes into the muscle of his thigh, worrying it through the polyester of his shorts. 

He takes the joint in one hand, and catches one of her feet in the other, pinching each of her toes. 

Fuck, she does love him. 

Raleigh’s lips pull to one side as she passes the joint back and returns to her rapidly melting popsicle. She licks until it’s down to the stick. Time seems short for the popsicle, but long as he watches her. So long, she should be nervous, but it’s good weed and she can already feel it creeping up her calves. 

He only speaks again when she’s taken another hit. 

“Spread your legs.” His voice is low and scratchy. 

She holds his gaze as her knees fall open in jerky fits and starts. There’s no one around for miles, save their friends inside the house. Even so, the thrill and panic of doing this, here, twine together and lay heavy in her belly. 

He takes her sticky, cherry hand and hooks it in the gusset of her shorts, and plucks the joint away too. It doesn’t take any figuring out, and when she pulls them aside, he makes a tiny, satisfied sound. She hears him fiddling with the ashtray, but she can’t look away from his eyes, and they’re trained between her legs. 

“Pretty,” he says, a cut above a whisper.

Parker’s toes curl. He hasn’t even touched her, he’s only looking and she’s already wet, squeezing around nothing. He passes his fingers over her and she jumps a little when he strokes her clit but it’s not—its almost not even sexual. It’s almost like he’s stroking her arm or her cheek. 

Except that here she opens for him, and when he strokes his fingers over her a second time, there’s somewhere for them to go.  She hates it when people equate pussies to flowers. She’s not blooming open for him. She doesn’t have petals. She’s never going to smell fucking botanical. 

Even so, he strokes her with reverence, like she’s a delicate rose, or a sweet lily, touching everywhere but where she wants him most, pressing until she can take two fingers. Then finally, touching her clit until she’s so wet and turned on she can take three, but it makes her pant. 

It’s hot and her hair is sticking to her forehead. Her back hurts too, the wooden post is pressed between her slouching shoulder blades as she tilts her hips up to meet his hand. 

Raleigh makes a noise, something like a sigh and then he plants one foot in the dirt, the other knee on the lower stair, and leans down until he can put his mouth on her. 

She hisses and grabs him by the back of the hair. He’s not sparing. He slides his hands under her ass and lifts her to him.  His mouth is wet and open wide. His bottom lip drags heavily up her opening as he tastes his fill of her. She’s wet all over, because it's a million damn degrees out. Between her tits and under arms and behind her knees and most of all against his mouth because he uses his tongue and his fingers to coax it out of her. More and more and more and his own tongue is impossibly silky as he narrows in. He makes room for his fingers again, curving inside her, pushing on that spot way deep.

She’d been doing a great job of being quiet until that, but it draws a loud groan out of her and he pauses, lifts his head to look at her, takes a breath like a man who’s nearly drowned.

“Park. Let’s go upstairs.” 

His face is wet with her. 

Raleigh stands first, and sticks a hand out to pull her up. Her eyes flick down to his dick, straining against his shorts. She brushes against it with her nose first. Then her tongue and she can tell he’s also not wearing any underwear, and it only takes a second to yank down his shorts and take him in her mouth. 

He gives her a shaky chuckle, and braces a hand on the post behind her. “You...are very good at this. Fuck.” 

Yes, she knows. She likes the way it feels under her tongue—the veins and velvety skin and even how he’s all saltwater against her tongue, but she likes his words, his expressions most of all. The way he passes a hand over his face, teeth gritting.

“Stop, stop,” he says, after a minute and she releases him reluctantly. They both watch a string of saliva pull and snap as they separate. 

“Disgusting,” she says at the same time he says, “hot.” 

He pulls his shorts back up and helps her to her feet. On their way up the stairs, she plays his ass cheeks like bongo drums and he swats at her hands. 

She’s really starting to feel her high, cotton candy spine and liquid joints, when he follows her into the bedroom. Closes the door. Locks it. 

He crowds her, but she doesn’t move. She lets him slip a hand into her shorts and grab her ass. He doesn’t—he doesn’t even kiss her. He looks down at her like he might want to. And this close, even with only the moon for light she can see that the sweat still hasn’t quite cleared from his brow, and he needs to wash his hair. 

Thighs slide against each other as he pushes her toward the bed. The backs of her knees hit it first and she teeters for a second before he lets go and she topples. Neither of them speaks as she shimmies her useless, wet shorts over her hips and down her legs and leaves them in a heap on the floor. 

She holds his gaze as she scoots up the bed. Parker rests her feet on top of the sheets and lets her legs fall open. He likes it when she touches herself. He likes to watch. Whatever he’s got planned—and he’s always got something planned—she’s gonna nip it in the bud right here. She can smell it on him, something devious and brain bending and—

“Yeah, go ahead,” he says, softly. “I wanna see you play with it.” 

An unstoppable moan bubbles up her throat. He’s fucking slinky as he crawls into bed on top of her, most of his weight braced on his forearms. But slowly, slowly, he presses his pelvis down against her, against her hand, pressing his weight into her, her fingers against her clit. 

“You know.” He’s speaking slowly. Rocking so lightly against her that he has plausible deniability. “I was told that I can’t make an album full of love songs. That I’m gonna ruin my career.” 

She can hear the air quotes around the last part. Her breath hitches as he presses forward. Even the pressure of him is good: hot and hard and big. 

“Is that what you’re writing?” she asks, stuttering through the last bit. Just from dry humping. This is love. “A bunch of love songs? For me?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, a teasing grin on his face. “For you, and about you and inspired by you.” 

“But you can’t ruin your career.” 

Raleigh grunts. “Fuck a career.” 

He strikes while she’s laughing (because fuck a career is a very funny thing to say, because he loves his career and because, yes, the weed has made her giggly). He mouths her nipple through the onion-skin thin cotton of her tanktop and sinks two fingers inside her. 

She swears with a hiss. He’s really not even fucking her, barely moving. But her fingers are fast over her clit and his mouth has sucked her until her nipple is hard and jutting and the wet spot on her shirt has spread. 

“Come on,” he urges her, and yanks the shirt down to scrape his teeth over her nipple. He forces his fingers deeper and she does come, the surprise kind, bursting over a few seconds before she expected it to break. So much so it startles a laugh out of her, and it gives him room to kiss her. 

Everything about his kiss is soft and smooth and plush. When he pulls back to nip at her mouth she feels him everywhere. They move together: they are waves, tossing together, with him in the cradle of her body and her arms around his neck. 

The taste of him, faintly acrid, kind of sweet, blinds her to the way his hips move, to his increased desperation, until he’s nudging against her, until he parts her, until she’s nodding against his mouth, a silent plea for more. 

He works his way inside her. Tiny shoves that remind her she was made for this. Not for sex, but for him. She’s a goner.

Raleigh rises up with a wet gasp, braces on his knees. He uses her thighs to lift her, to give himself room. He’s told her before: “I like to watch the faces you make.” 

He must get the reaction he wants the first time he shifts them again, and he bumps against that place deep inside her and her eyes go wide. Someone should slap the smile off of his face. 

“Raleigh—fuck—that’s—.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, still rocking lazily. But his eyes are pure avarice, drinking her in. 

She goes tense, fingers and toes curled into the sheets. She’s broken out into a thin sheen of sweat all over. It does feel like cheating, because her body is careening along ahead of her, and her brain is in smoke, it’s suspended in water, and she’s afloat on pleasure. 

“Look at you, fighting it. Come on, baby, give it to me. I want it.”  

Like he collects them in a jar. Like they’re his to keep. Parker comes in a wild, tight, tense fury, every muscle in her body going rigid with it, before she goes utterly loose-limbed. Her brain is soupy from her high and from him and when he pulls out and rolls her onto her stomach, she’s too pliant to object. 

His teeth do shock her. Nipping at her shoulders and her waist. In the swell of her ass and the meat of her thighs and the back of her calves and down to one of the toes he’d pinched. And all the while: beautiful, sweet, love you love you, good you’re so good. 

Raleigh’s fingers ask what his mouth does not and she eases her thighs open to make way for him again. His body curls over hers, lips at the back of her neck. 

“You’re gonna come for me again?”’

She makes a sound, sort of like a laugh and wail. “Don’t think I can.” 

Raleigh mumbles something and grabs her by the hips, hauling her ass in the air. Then his fingers are inside her and the “wow” he says seems genuinely surprised and not condescending. 

“We’ll see.” 

He slides inside her, she can feel that she’s slick and swollen, and when he eases in, he makes a tiny, helpless sound that makes her giggle into the crook of her elbow. His thrusts are more purposeful now, and her jello knees give. He follows her down, adjusting their bodies, bending her leg to open her wide.

His thrusts are slow, but it feels like he’s going to fuck her through the mattress. Every thrust forces a sound from her, a hot, frustrated groan. She’s droopy with pleasure, half-certain that she really won’t come again. 

But. 

“Parker, baby, you feel so good. So fucking good. You gonna give me one more?”

She shakes her head. It’s an impossibility, even though she can hear how wet she still is, and it’s such a stretch like this and he’s panting, which only turns her on more. 

“No?” he says, so cajolingly, she knows she’s in trouble. 

He’s practically laying on her as he worms his hand between her and the bed. It barely changes anything, but her clit rubs against his warm palm as they move with shallow thrusts, where he barely withdraws and she stays full. 

Parker swears. “Shit, babe, oh—” 

She rides out her orgasm on his hand and on his dick, with her eyes screwed shut and her mouth in a noiseless gasp. Raleigh swears, grunts, pumps and follows her seconds later. Slumped over her, sweat seals their bodies together. It doesn’t matter that his weight has her pressed into the mattress. She can’t move a single muscle. She’s all tapped out. Fog and still waters. She has no idea how much time has passed when he coaxes her up for a trip to the bathroom to get clean. 

When she comes out of the bathroom, he’s already put his shorts on and added a t-shirt. She cuts him a look as she crawls into the covers, yawning. “You’re not coming to bed?”

“Nah, I told Cameron and them I’d be back down.” 

Parker scowls. “Where did you tell them you were going?”

“To give you a sleeping pill.” 

She can’t help but laugh since he also gives her a shiny, shit-eating grin. “Are you really not tired?”

Her eyelids are falling fast. 

“Nope, I’m feeling very inspired all of a sudden.” 

Parker’s lips curl up, and she hears him head for the door. “Go write more songs for me.” 

“They’re all for you. Go to sleep.” 

She falls asleep like she fell in love: slowly, and then submerged. Tomorrow she’ll do it all over again.  ____________ I’m not tagging anyone bc of the drug mention and if you don’t wanna see me gush a lil, look away! To our platinum weekend hosts: I adore each and everyone of you!! this is so fun and lovely, yall have really nailed it, you wonderful humans!! I’m glad I could contribute something and I hope you enjoyed it! 

[zigtheeortega]

redeemed

pairing | m!raleigh x mc

word count | 6.6k

warnings | cursing, innuendos, mentions of sex

tags | @natesewell, @choicesarehard, @empressazura, @raleighcarrera, @pixeljazzy, @pixelsandkink [tagging people who usually ask to be tagged !] 

author’s note | i’ve talked about this before but i’m not a huge fan of the platinum mc’s personality, so i’ve kind of crafted my own that’s quite a bit more rebellious than canon. i’m obsessed with the idea of an mc who’s romancing raleigh and falls into the same pattern of behavior and it genuinely concerns them – so yeah i play with that idea here! i deviate from canon some but not too much ! this is my submission for day 2 of @platinumweekend as well ! also i had no idea how to end this so i apologize for the fizzle out at the end lol

•─────────────────•

As soon as he stepped off stage, he was shuffled to his tour bus, Fiona on his heels. She looked like the human embodiment of rage in a grey blazer, a look in her eye that made him thankful he wasn’t the one it was directed at – or at least he hoped he wasn’t the reason she was two seconds away from a murderous rampage.

She slammed the door behind her, locking it, running to the windows and closing the curtains, peeking out at the paparazzi that no doubt had already tried flocking at the edges of the blocked off area where the bus was parked.

“Damn, what’s the problem? Can’t I at least get my food from craft services? Jesus,” he complained, grabbing a bottle of water from the fully stocked mini fridge, downing it while Fiona frantically ran around the bus, turning off every electrical device in sight.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

She wheeled on him, a few strands of her hair sticking to her lips. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Yeah, you won’t let me go get my fuckin’ overpriced grilled cheese that I know is waiting for me,” he jabbed his thumb towards the venue. “At craft services.”

She eyed him, pupils wide, her anger nearly palpable. “It’s bigger than food.”

He ran a hand through his damp hair, some strands completely drenched in sweat. “Lay it on me.”

And the three words that fell from her lips were soul crushing, his post-show high wearing off in an instant.

“Dom’s been arrested.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He sat up, posture rigid. “What happened?”

“Not here. We’ll talk on the plane,” Fiona said, twisting the knob of the closet door, grabbing the black duffel bag on the ground. She tossed it at his feet, motioning for him to stand. “The jet leaves in an hour. I packed for you.”

“The plane? Where is she?” He was getting more and more frustrated, nearing hysterics. He should’ve felt a bit more shame about how worked up he was getting, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Fiona took notice, her fiery gaze softening at the edges, the blue flames flickering across his face. “Not here, Raleigh.”

He slung the duffle bag on his shoulder, walking to the door.

“Wait –” Fiona said, leaning over the couch to pull the curtain to the side, peering out again. “I paid off a security guard to distract the paparazzi. And when he does, we have to run to the car that’s gonna pull up any minute now – undetected,” she shot back at him, her icy gaze warning.

Within minutes, a security guard with a similar build to Raleigh sprinted towards the venue, jacket over his head, paparazzi on his heels.

With the camera’s flashing finally pointed away, they were able to slide into the back of the cab, thankful that Hank had connections everywhere. The driver rolled up the barrier without question as soon as Fiona tossed him a wad of cash that she’d fished out of a plain leather pouch.

She shook the pouch, her lips set in a thin line. “You know what this is?”

“A purse?” He asked, brows furrowed. “Is this some kind of fuckin’ trick?”

“It’s an emergency fund. Cash. Not traceable.”

She shook her head, dropping the pouch into her lap, before pinching the bridge of her nose. “When Dom first started getting into trouble, I had to pay off a few people here and there, but when it became more frequent, I had to actually sit her down with her accountant and sort this out.”

“Sort… what out?”

“How much money she needed to allocate to her… antics,” she rolled her eyes, propping her elbow on the back of her seat, hand pressed to her forehead.

She looked drained. Fiona never looked disheveled, but he sensed this was the closest she’d be to it.

“If it’s money she needs, that’s fine. Lemme call my agent –”

“There’s only so much cash I can hand people under the table before it becomes a problem. Not just financially, put publicly,” she sighed, chewing the inside of her cheek. “I’ve been able to cover up the smaller mishaps, but this, I’m afraid, might be the start of something… much worse than disorderly conduct.”

“You gonna tell me her charges?” His jaw set in anticipation, already running through a list of the best lawyers in L.A. that got him off from potentially hefty lawsuits.

Her short locks swayed as she shook her head. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”

He blew air out of his cheeks, leaning into the corner of the cab, legs splayed wide as he tried to take a nonchalant stance. “Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“You’ll be glad you have a bedroom, shower, and fridge on the plane,” she said with another shake of her head.

––––

Raleigh laid in bed, aimlessly scrolling through his burner account.

He never really cared for social media under the public eye. Every post of his was either related to tour or the series of brand deals for products he never used. Each page was a personified advertisement – some shit he regretted signing up for.

One drunken night, his curiosity got the best of him and he found himself making a pretty inconspicuous profile, following some funny internet personalities and political commentators. And although he had plans to delete it, once Dom came into the picture, he unabashedly lurked.

He followed her on all platforms, and when he had the chance, he watched her stories, voted in her daily polls, and occasionally scrolled through her old instagram photos.

This time in particular, though, he was looking for something specific without really knowing if there was an answer.

He scrolled to her first post, hundreds down, smiling at high school Dom. Thick eyeliner, layered hair, brace-adorned grin – she was a poster child of adolescence.

Photos of her with Shane at pep rallies, in Halloween costumes, in prom formal wear filled the screen, later transitioning to senior portraits, graduation photos, and dorm photos. A setting of picturesque normality as Dom grew into herself, growing out her choppy layers, softening her makeup, her gleaming smile lighting up each photo.

She grew more beautiful with each year, each little phase of her life coming with a new style, a new little identity or association, Dom’s willingness to try new things the reason she was able to break free from her small town.

God, was Raleigh so fucking envious of this imperfect little portion of her Instagram. If someone were to look this far back for him, there’d be photoshoots and magazine spreads and paparazzi photos all neatly planned. The shaky off-guard photos, the unedited red eyes, the off guard photos, the expressions they made in them… it was something Raleigh never had the chance to do.

Being in the business for ten years, everything was pristine, crisp – always smiling or smoldering, no in between. Sexy and rugged or smiling and happy. Like he had two modes and he wasn’t ever able to exercise those other parts of himself because being in front of the camera was restrictive – while Dom was able to be unabashedly herself.

He was breaking shit just to feel something, to have some range of emotions even if it was a stupid fucking publicity stunt where he damaged property or made out with another politician’s daughter or attempted irreparable blows to his public image.

The more recent the posts, the more calculated her photos got, the phrase “ad” showing up more and more. But even with a skincare brand deal, her step-by-step skincare routine video was on brand for Dom, her bright smile and wit always present in everything she did.

But Raleigh couldn’t help but feel like parts of her were slipping away.

Her online persona was still pretty crisp, except for her style shift – tattoos, a couple piercings, and some edgier photoshoots signified a tonal shift in Dom’s aesthetic, but nothing he hadn’t seen before.

Hell, when he used his first innuendo on his solo album, there was widespread outrage on Sunset Skatepark fan forums, ripping into him for singing about using his dick (even though he was definitely an adult and definitely not a virgin).

But other than her general style, nothing was different. Nothing to indicate this downward spiral that Fiona kept a secret.

Where’s the shift? He thought to himself as he scrolled to the top. When the hell did she start changing for the worse?

She’d come a long way from her clean songs that didn’t require a radio edit. He felt a pang of something in his chest –– regret, maybe? Was he the reason she’d changed?

The questions sent him into a near tailspin, his pulse quickening at the realization.

He was the problem.

She’d since deleted her photos with Raleigh, because their breakup was so public, but he could tell that the shift happened right around the time she started spending more time with him.

He’d been a mentor of sorts, opposite of Avery, showing her the ropes… which meant that he was teaching her how to evade the press, fuck with the paparazzi, pick out industry plants – the whole nine yards.

She was impulsive, daring, adventurous, fearless – all the qualities he liked in himself. But he never thought those traits would take a negative turn, morphing her into a rebel with an affinity for breaking laws.

He could blame himself all he wanted, but he couldn’t blame her for taking the same route he took. 

He knew it better than anybody – it was hard to shift the public’s persona of you. Once you did something horrible to make them hate you, either the rebrands and ass kissing worked, or you get written off by everyone.

Raleigh Carrera was a special case, a wild card of sorts who toed the line, unpredictable, both with his craft and his behavior. The nastier his lyrics, the crazier his publicity stunts were, the more polarizing he was.

And that was no doubt the route Dom was on, heading towards an inevitable press nightmare – if people were to find out the home grown rags-to-riches Dominique Avalos dove headfirst into her rebellious phase with no smooth transition, she wouldn’t be able to Google herself for months without having a panic attack.

She’d changed drastically, but that’s what fame did to people. Some people cracked under the pressure, or they rebelled to show the public they were in control of their narrative… or that they desperately wanted it back.

He took a shaky breath, swiping out of the app.

He wasn’t sure if he could save her, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna try.

––––

The moment the jet touched down, Fiona was in full manager mode, adamant on abandoning his phone, stressing the importance of going off the grid.

“If anyone finds out you’re here, they’ll be able to put two and two together. Why else would you be in the same country as Dom when you’re supposed to be heading towards New York for your next show?” She asked, hand outstretched.

“I hate it when you’re right,” he grumbled, tossing his phone into her palm. “Where are we exactly?”

“I can’t tell you,” she sighed, looking exhausted. He had a gut feeling she hadn’t slept a wink since they’d boarded the plane.

“Why not?”

“It’s a bit safer that way.”

He scoffed. “You’re serious? Look, I’m not exactly thrilled to pull the A-List celebrity card, but this is borderline kidnapping.” 

“Let’s just say you might be able to pick up on some of the language,” she said, turning on her heel to exit the plane.

Within minutes, they were pulling onto a dirt backroad, the small houses they passed barely casting shadows onto the ground.

The town itself was seemingly innocuous – the tiny brick houses riddled with dust, the stone paths lining the road cracked and deserted. The tiny town had turned in for the night, their old Sedan sticking out like a sore thumb despite the old model.

Raleigh squirmed in his seat, twisting the expensive watch on his wrist. He fucking hated this.

No matter where he went, he was noticed in some capacity – so wearing a Rolex and Cartier rings in a small village in the middle of nowhere just made him look pretentious.

He slipped the rings and watches off, shoving them deep into the pocket of his jeans, ignoring Fiona’s calculating side eye (one he knew all too well).

The only light, other than the gas lamp posts and their high beams, came from the building at the end of the road.

The car pulled around the side, flicking their lights off, the driver peeking around before motioning for them to exit the car.

“Throw the hoodie on, Raleigh,” Fiona ordered while slipping on a ball cap of her own, her casual t-shirt and leggings wildly different from her normal outfit.

“Sure,” he murmured, tugging the hood on.

The walk from the car to the dusty glass front door was short, Fiona breaking into a light jog to keep up with Raleigh’s brisk pace.

The makeshift “waiting room” in the front corner of the station was empty, the scratched up folding chairs in crooked rows. The front desk was occupied by a sleeping form, head buried in the crease of his elbow, snore muffled by the counter top.

The other officer stood at the back near an old vending machine, sliding coins into the slot, the clink of each piece ringing out against the brick and linoleum.

No cameras, he thought, after a quick scan of the room, shoving the hood back in its place at the nape of his neck.

The holding cells were farther back, but he couldn’t see her.

He stepped up to the counter where the man was sleeping, giving a gentle knock to the top. The man stirred, unfurling his arms, while the other man in the back glanced up from where he was, elbows deep in the snack machine as he fished out his bag of chips.

Raleigh offered a basic greeting in Spanish, frowning just a bit when both officers’ eyes lit up – the phrase “famoso” and “celebridad” falling from their lips almost as soon as they recognized him.

Yeah, he was gonna use his notoriety to their advantage, but that didn’t mean it still didn’t sting when people immediately tried gauging what they could get from him when they realized who he was.

For a long time he’d been waiting for the day where name dropping himself didn’t get him out of deep shit.

And the day he met Dom, when he assumed she knew who he was, all she did was raise her brow as if to say “Why the fuck should I care?”

It startled him, truthfully. But it was such a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t remember a time before or after that someone showed no interest in him.

The officer in the back jogged to the front, pulling his phone out of his back pocket while asking for a picture.

He looked to Fiona, who was shaking her head furiously, stepping up next to him like her 5’5 stature was enough to shield him. “Nobody can know we’re here.”

He nodded, turning back to the men, trying to negotiate with them.

Yes, Dom’s here.

No, you can’t see her.

He racked his brain trying to figure out how he was gonna get himself – and Dom – out of the situation unscathed if he couldn’t give them a photo or autograph.

“Dom bought me the Rolex and Cartier rings, right?”

Fiona’s brows furrowed. “Yes. She gifted them to you on your birthday. You know this –”

“No, what I mean is, she has the receipts? Or you do?”

“I don’t have them, but I have access to them,” she said, still confused.

“Get rid of ‘em. I haven’t told anyone she bought them for me.”

Her face lit up in recognition, and she nodded, encouraging him to go on.

He dug in his pockets, fishing out the watch and thin bands.

After a quick exchange, the officers took two rings each, and began rapid fire arguing over the Rolex. They tossed Raleigh the keys, stepping out the front door.

“I’ll keep watch,” Fiona said, turning towards the door.

“Hey –” Raleigh said, laying a hand on her shoulder.

She quirked a brow at him. “What?”

“You’re not coming with?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Why not? I’m not even sure what the fuck I’m supposed to say –”

“She specifically asked for you.”

He took a step back, resting his palm on the countertop behind him. “What the – are you… are you serious?”

She nodded once. “She might’ve been slurring, but she was clear as day. She wanted you.”

He blew air out of his cheeks, running a hand through his short waves.

Fiona’s gaze softened, her eyes still piercing. Fiona was a lot of things – steadfast, headstrong, determined – but she wasn’t soft. She didn’t sugar coat shit.

“She’s missed you. She doesn’t confide in me much, but even I can tell she’s unhappy. Be gentle with her,” she said, gaze tearing right through him.

The walk to the holding cells felt miles long – his resolve was shrinking with every step.

He wasn’t afraid of seeing Dom, not at all. He was afraid of whatever part of himself that might’ve been reflected in her.

The cell was empty, save for the curled form on the bench, long dark hair cascading over the edges of the seat.

“Dom?” He called, hearing her sharp inhale of breath as she stirred, bending into a long stretch, her limbs unfurling until she was lying on her back on the bench, tilting her head towards his voice.

God, even when she looked like life had torn her to shreds, she still looked beautiful.

“Raleigh?” She croaked, her eyes squinting to adjust to the low lights. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

She arched her back, stretching again, her long frame covering the bench. It was almost the right level of distracting to stop the creeping annoyance at her question.

“What do you mean? I’m here to bail you out, obviously.”

“Where’s Fiona?” She asked groggily, rolling off the side of the bench awkwardly, trying to gain her footing.

“You asked for me, didn’t you?” He raised a brow, sliding his forearms through the bars, resting them there.

“She told you?” She asked, voice raising in betrayal, a scoff following his silence. “I was drunk.”

“And? You still asked for me.”

 “Oh, fuck off,” she murmured, crossing her arms as soon as she was balanced.

He dangled the keys between his fingertips, gently jingling them. “I’ll let you out if you tell me what happened.”

Her lip curled in annoyance. “You’d really leave me here?”

“You don’t want to find out.”

She ran a hand through her hair, blowing air out of her cheeks. “Alright.”

He unlocked the door and slipped in, the heavy door creaking as he slid it wide enough for him to fit through.

She backed up, plopping back onto the bench, arms lowering to curl around her sides.

He followed suit, sitting a couple feet away from her on the other end of the bench, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie.

She stared at the floor, clearly waiting for him to make a move.

“So…”

“So, what?” She grumbled.

“So… how’d you end up here?” He asked, trying to remain as relaxed as he could since she was clearly on edge, ready to tear him a new one at a moment’s notice.

“I was drunk. I got in a fight. Here I am.”

He sighed. “Look, you don’t have to tell me everything, but I can’t help you if I don’t know if you’re ankles deep or neck deep.”

She chewed her lip, chin dipping lower, strands of her hair falling forward, creating an inky veil. “Fine. I’ll tell you but… can you not… look at me?”

Raleigh’s face contorted in confusion, but he listened, swivelling until he was facing the back wall, propping one leg up on the bench.

He waited for her to speak. The break in conversation was a bit too long – but before a quip could fall from his lips, she spoke.

“I did get drunk, and I did get in a fight. I’m telling the truth but I, uh, left out some details,” she started, her voice low.

“I, uh, was passing through this town after my last show because I wanted to go to a bar without being noticed. Like the old days. I know it was stupid, but I didn’t think anyone would find me here.”

That was her first mistake. Smaller towns surprisingly had the most dedicated fans – maybe because they’re bored or nothing exciting happened in their towns, but most of his die hard fans came from the middle of nowhere. 

“The first hour was fine, and I was able to drink and dance with strangers. Most of them were a lot older than me and spoke zero English – and I speak a little bit of Spanish as you know, so I could make some small talk, but I was on my own just… enjoying myself and my freedom,” she said, and he could almost see the grin tug at the corner of her lips.

“I noticed someone taking photos of me with their phone, so I got a bit paranoid and sat in a booth in the back drinking for a little while longer so I could figure out my next move,” she continued, before sighing loudly. “I guess they told the local news or something, because by the time I decided to leave, I ran smack into a reporter on the sidewalk.”

Silence ensued again, this time more deafening than the last.

“I didn’t mean to give her a black eye. Or break the camera. Or elbow the camera man in the face when he tried restraining me. I just… couldn’t think straight. I was mad. Intoxicated and wrong, but still mad.”

“I know Fiona’s trying her best to get me out of this mess but… I think I went too far this time.”

Raleigh stared at the wall, racking his brain for something. He was a little dumbfounded that she spilled to him so fast. He figured it was gonna take a bit more digging to get her to open up, but she blossomed in front of him; despite the wilted petals, he was relieved to know she still trusted him enough to confide in him.

“Are you gonna say something?” She asked, a bit timidly.

“Not if I can’t look at you.”

“Okay, then don’t say anything.”

He sighed, settling into his spot on the bench, waiting again for her to speak.

“Why did you come?”

Instinctively, he shrugged. “You asked me to.”

“But you don’t owe me anything. We’re not together.”

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t drop everything to come help you. I mean, I’d like to think we’re at least acquaintances, if not friends,” he joked, resting his arm over the back of the bench.

“Sure,” she said, voice straining just a bit. Just enough for him to notice.

Dom was a special kind of resilient – one trait that Raleigh was sure she didn’t copy from him.

He knew that being a woman in the industry was already hard enough – everything from beauty to body standards to raging misogyny was enough to give people reasons to hate her, as stupid as they were.

Raleigh benefitted from the standards in place for men. He was young, attractive, talented – didn’t matter what he did wrong. He’d bounce back.

But he’d seen some vile shit since he’d ascended to fame. So many celebrities fading into obscurity after one mishap. One bad album. One bad interview. One rude encounter. One rumor.

For some reason, despite diving headfirst into troubled waters, Dom bounced back every time, fire in her eyes, her jaw set in determination, her face painted with the look she got when she was ready to face the world.

But whatever she was feeling in that moment, in that jail cell in the middle of nowhere – was enough to break her. 

He heard her take a deep, shaky breath, and he started to turn, but he felt her warm palm on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Don’t,” she whispered.

He listened to her labored breathing, likely struggling to hold back tears, while he stared at the cracks in the wall, trying to think of something – anything – to console her.

“Did Fiona seem… upset?” She asked, seeming a bit nervous.

“It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest. She’s pretty intense all of the time,” he laughed, not really meaning to.

He was relieved to hear a light chuckle from behind him.

“Yeah, I figure she’s pretty mad at me. I don’t blame her,” she sighed, another break in conversation ensuing. A couple beats later, she asked, bluntly, “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he answered with zero hesitation. “I know you’d do the same for me.”

She laughed again, a bit more genuine that time. “Not sure where you got that impression.”

“You wouldn’t leave me here to rot if I asked you to come, Dom. You’re not that heartless,” he teased gently, glad that things were taking a lighthearted turn.

“I’m just glad you’re not gonna lecture me. I already know I’m gonna get an earful from Fiona, not to mention the shit I’ll get from Shane and Avery. I couldn’t handle one from you.”

He grimaced. “Uh, well, you’d rather hear it from me than Fiona, right?”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” she mumbled under her breath.

“You know I normally don’t care what you do, because it’s your life, and you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, but Dom…” he trailed off, trying to choose his words carefully.

“I know I fucked up, Raleigh. I don’t need you making me feel more guilty than I already am,” she said defensively, voice raised.

“I’m not gonna make you feel guilty. Just offering some advice.” God, did those words feel foreign to him. Offering advice. He never did shit like this for anybody.

He took her silence as a green light. “You’ve just gotta slow down, Dom.”

Whatever impact his words made, he couldn’t see it, since he was still facing the damn wall. “Can I please turn around? I can’t talk to you like this.”

“Sure.”

He adjusted himself on the bench, trying to look attentive without staring. She was stunning, even with the smudged makeup, the dark circles, the red eyes  “You don’t have to do anything and everything you’re asked to do, but you gotta find some kind of balance.”

She wrung her hands in her lap, picking at her cuticles absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean balance the good and bad, Dom. There’s a line for people like us and you can’t cross it often. You can get close, but you can’t just dive over it and not expect there to be some fallout.”

“I know,” she said, bluntly, looking a bit more annoyed with each word that came from his mouth.

“You can cause some chaos, but some of it isn’t acceptable,” he said, watching her expression contort in anger. “For them. Not acceptable for them. The average person, I mean.”

“Oh, you’re one to fucking talk!” She rolled her eyes. “How are you gonna sit here and tell me that your brand of shit stirring is okay, but mine isn’t?”

“I’m not the one sitting in a jail cell right now, Dom,” he said, calmly but firmly. He wasn’t used to being the rational one, but he had to be level headed. He was trying to save her.

She ran a hand through her hair, leaning back against the back of the bench. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Trust me, I know.”

“You’re hypocritical.”

“Not necessarily,” he said, propping his arm up on the back of the bench. “I was in the industry for years before I started dirtying up my image. You just got here.”

“And you’ve been here too damn long to act the way you do,” she nearly spat, lashing out.

“I’m too far gone,” he simply stated, keeping surprisingly calm through it all.

“What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I’ve been here for a long time, which means, I’ve got a lot more fuck ups under my belt. Irreparable damage, if you will.”

“People love you,” she said, matter-of-factly, like that solved it – it honestly relieved him. A bit of Dom’s naivete from when they first met was shining through.

“People also hate me, because I’m a little shit who sets fires for fun,” he grinned. “For legal reasons, my lawyers insist I clarify that I’m joking.”

She rolled her lips, trying to suppress a smile. “People who hate you don’t know you.”

He nodded. “You’re right, and you’re so close to the point I’m sure you can taste it.”

“I’m too far gone to save. No matter how hard I try for the rest of my career, I can never get away from the wild card label. Plenty of people don’t wanna work with me. I’ve damaged business relationships. Lots of artists don’t want to collab with me because of how it’ll make them look.”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because I know you don’t want this. You’re too good for whatever baggage comes with being a ‘rebel’, Dom. I don’t want to see you turn out like me.”

For the first time that night, she stared at him – really stared at him. Her deep brown, nearly midnight eyes searched his for any sign of insincerity.

“You’re… serious?” She asked finally, brows furrowed in confusion.

“One hundred percent honest,” he said, nodding.

She sat back in her chair, chewing on her lip, contemplating.

“Can you turn back around again?”

He nodded, wordlessly facing the wall again.

“I left out a few details,” she said from behind him.

“I’m listening,” he affirmed.

“I, uh, was pretty hammered by the time I left, so it was even harder for me to understand what people were saying,” she said before he could speak. “I heard the reporter say ‘Raleigh’ and ‘novio’ and I saw red… so… I, uh… swung.”

His chest clenched, tightening until it was difficult to breathe. He was thankful she’d asked him to face the other direction, because he knew his reaction betrayed his cool demeanor.

“I guess I’m not over it,” she laughed humorlessly.

He ran a hand over his face, racking his brain for a response, but coming up short.

“You, um, don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel the same. I shouldn’t have gotten attached. It’s on me.”

That made him turn, swivelling around before she could finish speaking.

She flicked her head towards the bars of the cell, raising a hand to cover her face. “I said ‘don’t look at me’, Raleigh. Goddamn.”

Years and years of PR training and interviews and he had no idea how the fuck to console her. Partially because he was trying to get a grip on whatever the hell was going on in his brain as well.

Instead, he answered her with a question of his own, a tactic he’d used anytime he wanted to deflect in interviews.

“Why can’t I look?”

Dom tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, slowly rotating to meet his gaze. She sank her teeth deep into her bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“Fuck,” she cursed, rubbing the backs of her hands under her eyes, the dried black mascara under her eyes beginning to liquidate again. “Because I’m crying, Raleigh. And I don’t cry.”

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong? I know there’s more to it than you’re telling me,” he asked, holding up two of his fingers in a solute. “No judgement.”

She sighed, crossing the room to put some distance between them. She began pacing, taking slow steps as she spoke.

“I might’ve fucked up my career and I keep letting people down and I’m destructive because this whole fame thing isn’t what I signed up for and I didn’t think I’d cave under pressure like every other mid twenties child actor who goes through a premature mid-life crisis, but here I fucking am,” she said, nearly out of breath by the end.

His legs carried him across the room before he could think twice, pacing towards her while she strode across the room in the opposite direction.

“God, I’m so fucking stupid –”

“Stop. You’re not stupid.”

“I am,” she said, wheeling on him. “And – and I’m embarrassed. I’m embarrassed that my manager and – and my ex –” She stopped in her tracks, rubbing a palm over her forehead, shutting her eyes.

He reached out to her, but let his hand fall almost immediately.

“My acquaintance had to fly out to a fucking village in the middle of nowhere to bail me out –” 

“Dom, stop –”

“– because I fought a fucking reporter over not being able to handle my fucking feelings –”

“Dom –”

“– like an adult with a functioning frontal lobe all because I love someone who –”

Her eyes popped open, her expression horrified. “Oh my god, I’m – I –”

She dug the heel of her hands into her eyes, dropping into a squat. “Fuck, fuck, Goddammit –”

“Did you just –”

“Yeah, Raleigh, I did. Don’t make me feel worse, alright? I know I fucked up,” she groaned from her heap on the ground.

“You just said you love me, Dom. I think I’m allowed to react,” he said, a slight teasing to his voice.

She glanced up, glaring. “Okay, then, react.”

Her gaze was fiery, her deep brown irises challenging – something else a bit more vulnerable lying beneath.

She was terrified.

He leaned down, gripping her around the waist to pull her back up, wrapping his arms around her upper back, hugging her to his chest.

She melted into his arms, relaxing and leaning into his embrace.

“I didn’t mean to say it,” she murmured into his chest.

“So do you?” He asked, chin gently balanced on her head.

“What?”

“Do you love me?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully, voice small.

“You don’t have to know. I don’t know either,” he said, just as earnest, feeling her tense in his arms. “But I do know that I like you enough to want you around, and that counts for something, right?”

She laughed (as genuine as he’d heard it), leaning back to look at him. “Yeah, it does.”

Their bodies were still pressed together, Dom’s chin tilted upwards towards him, their faces nearly touching.

“If this gets out, don’t let anyone make you feel like you’re a bad person,” he said, voice low. “You’re the best person I know –”

Dom closed the gap between them, capturing his lips in an intense kiss. He cupped her face in his palms and held her in place, moaning into her parted lips.

God, there was nothing that compared to kissing her. Nobody matched up. He’d made out with a lot of people since he was flung into stardom at sixteen, and no one – absolutely no one – left him in a daze like she did.

She gripped the strings of his hoodie, pulling him closer, sighing contentedly against him.

The smell of her shampoo mixed with the sweet scent of her skin and the warmth of her hands and her chest flush against his – it was the next best thing to being inside of her.

He pulled back, trying to catch the dreamy, half-lidded look she always got when they parted.

“So… did you take your jet here?”

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Out of context, that sounds so superficial.”

She grinned, her first genuine smile that night. “Oh, but you’re not? Hanging around a rising artist to cling to relevancy?”

He laughed, the sound reverberating off of the walls. “I really am rubbing off on you, aren’t I?”

“Yep. The good and bad,” she agreed, still smiling at him.

“The good?” He shook his head. “Nah, I’m not so sure about that.”

“You’re literally the reason I haven’t walked out on my label and moved to bum fuck nowhere and lived off the land,” she said, shrugging. “You taught me how to have fun. You were the only one keeping me sane.”

He thought he was the one encouraging her to leap over the edge, but he was the one tugging her arm back.

The whole time he was convinced he was a bad influence, but he was doing some good – for her.

But with that revelation came the guilt at her words.

“‘Were’?”

“Well, we don’t really talk anymore. I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

“Yeah,” she chewed her lip, stepping back, unraveling herself from his embrace. “I’m sorry.”

That was a slap to the face. Dom rarely apologized, because if she felt she was right, she wasn’t going to budge. She was stubborn as hell.

“Huh? Why?” “I don’t want to guilt you into spending time with me… or feeling things for me,” she said, rubbing her arm. “I didn’t mean to corner you.”

“You didn’t. I wanted to come.”

She glanced up, blinking at him. “No, you didn’t –”

“I did,” he emphasized, slipping her hand into his, intertwining their fingers. “I kinda missed being forced to hang out with you. Feels like old times.”

She couldn’t stop the laugh from ripping from her, this one louder than the last. “Oh, shut up.”

“No, but seriously, I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Always.”

“Thank you.” With her free hand, she punched his shoulder lightly. “You’ll regret that sooner or later.”

“Nah,” he said, lip curling into a smirk. “I don’t think I will.”

––––

[utterlyinevitable]

24,26,34 for Raleigh x MC 👀👀👀 I think it’s a good mix

24. things you said when we were alone 26. things you said in writing 34. things you whispered in my ear

From the things you said prompt list. Send me a pairing and number and I’ll write a mini fic!

---

Nobody Knows The Whole Truth 

Everyone knew Cadence Dorian, the midwestern sweetheart, had a way with words. Not only did her debut album go certified platinum, but all the songs she ghostwrote topped the charts. 

Everyone knew of Raleigh Carrera. They knew his image, his voice, his affinity for danger and property damage. To the world, Raleigh Carrera was a certified bad boy. 

Everything everyone knew was only half of the truth. 

Nobody knew who Raleigh and Cadence were when they were together. When all they wanted is to share a peaceful dinner, hold hands, and have Raleigh carry her at the end of the night when her heels got too painful.

In public, they were the poster couple for on-and-off, toxic lovers. Raleigh is the flirt; sizing up opportunity after opportunity, and drinking a little too much. Cadence is the goody-two-shoes keeping him on a leash, and severing it once he gets too rowdy. 

Every public encounter between them has a layer of tension implied. 

After weeks apart, they ran into one another at the MoDA Gala. Their very public breakup stunt still very fresh in the public psyche. 

They bumped into one another on the red carpet - literally. Raleigh turned to avoid a few reporters and knocked into Cadence posing for photos. It had the potential to be a PR nightmare. 

The crowd gasped. 

The pair just looked at one another as Raleigh went to steady her. His hands firmly on her body and thousands of pairs of eyes watching their every move as he leaned over; 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. 

Cadence bit the inside of her lip, schooling her features from the bright smile threatening to oust them. Raleigh pulled away all too soon for her liking. But not soon enough for them to not get throngs of questions thrown at them; 

“Are you getting back together?” “Have you worked through your issues?” “Will you be making music together in the future?” “How do you really feel about the break up?” “Can we get a picture together for the fans.” 

The evening droned on and on and became more about business than the charity they’re here to support. There were only so many networking and industry conversations Cadence could take. And none of them were quite as endurable without Raleigh by her side. 

The worst part of the evening by far was their publicists making sure they weren’t seated at the same table, keeping them apart for appearances sake. 

Eventually Cadence needed a breather, a healthy dose of reality. So she made a sneaky decision. As no phones were allowed at the gala, she wrote on a napkin and whisked across the room to slip it under his champagne flute. 

Then she waited in the shadows of a roped off area.  

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said with a flirty smirk as Raleigh rounded the corner. 

“This is bold,” he commented with his signature smirk. “What’re you gonna do with me now that you have me alone?”

“Murder sounds good. But be a dear and please keep your blood to yourself. This is a Zadie Couture original.” 

He let out a laugh and crossed the distance. His hands reaching out to wrap around her waist before kissing her lightly, yet with the force of all their bottled up feelings. 

“How was the rest of tour?” he asked when they broke apart.  

Her face lit up and Raleigh’s heart skipped a beat. “Amazing! I can’t believe I sold out Troubadour!” Her fingers trailed to tangle in the strands at the back of his neck, “Missed you though.” 

“Knew you could do it, kid.” He pressed a sweet peck to the tip of her nose. 

Cadence smiled then leaned into him so that their lips met once more.   

When they pulled away they gave a knowing look. 

“Let’s go home.” 

They slipped out of the event one at a time. Hank drove Cadence home and Raleigh called an Uber. They entered their building through separate entrances - her through the front door and him through the parking garage. 

They met back up in the elevator where no one but building security could see them together.  

Once they were safely home, Raleigh wasted no time in freeing Cadence from the confines of her corset. 

“Oh sweet oxygen!” she sung as the dress fell to the floor and she could finally take long, deep breaths. All she wanted was the sweet comforts of home. “Where’s my onesie?” 

“Under the pillows where you left it,” he said matter-of-factly as he began stripping off his suit.  

“You didn’t wash it!?”  

“No,” Raleigh shrugged, “Why would I?”  

She looked at him, dumbfounded, “I’ve been gone for three weeks.” 

How did he not think to wash the dirty clothes? She thought to herself. 

Their eyes met as he told her, “It smells like you.” 

________________________________________

Masterlist

@choicesficwriterscreations​

Perma:

@rookiemarsswiftie @lucy-268 @binny1985 @thegreentwin @queencarb @danijimenezv @starrystarrytrouble @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @adrex04 @maurine07 @mercury84choices @schnitzelbutterfingers @theeccentricbibliophile @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @kaavyaethanramsey @mvalentine @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine @lifeaskim @otherworldlypresents @therookie @aylaramseycarrera @angela8754 @fireycookie @stateofgracious

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC FotW - May 14 - 20, 2023

18+ = Adult/Mature Content 🔥 = Explicit Material/NSFW 🔹 = Submitted to CFWC

BLOODBOUND

So This is Goodbye? | Jax Matuso x F!MC - @alj4890

CRIMES OF PASSION

Cross Your Hearts and Set it Ablaze | Trystan Thorne - @inlocusmads

THE ELEMENTALISTS

Fire & Water: Part 1 | Shreya Mistry x M!MC - @korgbelmont

IT LIVES ANTHOLOGY

A Sinister Judas Kiss | Abel Flint x MC - @abelflints

OPEN HEART

PLATINUM

Overthinking | Raleigh Carrera x F!MC @a-cloud-for-dreams 🔹

RED CARPET DIARIES

Slipping Away Together | Thomas Hunt x F!OC - @alj4890 🔹

THE ROYAL ROMANCE

CROSSOVERS

The Royal Romance / Open Heart

Serendipity Part 3 | Drake Walker x MC, Bryce Lahela x MC - @deb-1106 and @walkerismychoice

[platinumweekend]

In the tags, tell us what song Raleigh ghostwrote about MC.

[alj4890masterlist]

A

1st sets of Choices Drabbles and Requests

Going Home (Bryce x F!MC)

Mistletoe Madness (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

Weary (Liam x Riley)

New Moves (Jax x Amy)

The Color of Despair (Damien x Nadia)

Finding a Way (Drake x Olivia)

Warmer (Hana x Rashad)

Pity Party (Liam x Riley)

Late Night (Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

Disheartened (Ernest Sinclaire x Clara Mills)

For Old Times' Sake (Liam, Drake, Maxwell)

Excuses (Leo x Madeleine)

You and You Alone (Raleigh Carrera x Cadence)

Little Helper (Matt Rodriguez x Addison Sinclair)

Near My Heart (Liam x Riley)

Near to My Heart 2 (Liam x Riley)

Great Expectations (Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

Bittersweet Clarity (Maxwell x Riley)

Leave It to Me (Maxwell x OC) (Hana x Rashad)

Gotta Get Away (Hana x Rashad)

Incapable (Ethan Ramsey x Casey)

Perhaps (Hugh Crawford x MC)

Just A Second (Bryce x MC)

Proof (Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda)

No More Oblivion (Bryce x MC)

Come Save Me Tonight (Raleigh x Cadence) (Avery x Cadence)

Comfort and Cherish (Hugh Crawford x MC)

Memories (Drake x Olivia)

Shouldn’t Care (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

Shouldn’t Care Either (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda

Surgical Precision (Bryce x MC)

Boxes (Drake x Olivia)

Family Night Out (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

All In My Head (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

Something Unexpected (Liam x Riley)

The Morning After (Drake x Olivia)

Never Enough (Hana x Rashad)

News (Liam x Riley)

Deliberate (Liam x Riley)

Minutes (Liam x Riley)

Punny of Reasons (Bryce x MC)

Symptoms of Doubt (Liam x Riley)

Come Again? (Liam x Riley)

Can’t Forget (Colt x Ellie)

Betrayal from Within (Liam x Riley)

Hesitation (Liam x Riley)

Burning (Liam x Riley)

Too Far (Liam x Riley)

Ghosting (Bryce x MC)

Labor of Love (Liam x Riley)

One Fateful Night (Liam x Riley)

The Dark Before the Dawn (Liam x Riley) *part 2 of One Fateful Night*

Dawns Early Light (Liam x OC) *Part 3 of One Fateful Night

Down to the Wire (Liam x Riley)

What Comes First (Liam x Riley) (Ellis x Emily)

The Moment (Drake x Olivia)

Move with My Body (Liam x Riley)

Powerless (Liam x Riley)

Subversion (Liam x Riley)

Mirrors Don’t Lie (Drake x Olivia)

Sweet Memories (Liam x Riley)

Aftereffects (Liam x Riley)

Left Out in the Cold (Liam x Riley)

Left Out in the Cold Part 2 (Drake x Olivia)

Memento (Liam x Riley)

A Slight Scrape (Leo x Madeleine)

The Decision (Liam x Riley)

One Night in Lythikos (Liam x Riley)

True Intentions (Justin x Riley) (Liam x Riley) Justin’s POV

Wait. What? (Liam x Riley)

And Time Stopped (Liam x Riley)

The Birthday Cake (Drake x Olivia)

Happiness Does Not Wait (Hana x Rashad)

A Trip to Fydelia (Liam x Riley)

A Thanksgiving Date (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

A Maze of Emotions (Drake x Olivia)

New Ornaments (Drake x Olivia)

Suspicion Rising (Liam x Riley)

The End and the Beginning (Liam x Madeleine) (Liam x Riley)

One Little Question (Liam x Riley)

In the News (Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda)

The Decision (Liam x Riley)

Alone (Drake x Olivia)

Champagne Problems (Liam x Riley)

Don't Let the Light Go Out (Tobias Carrick x MC)

Something Sweet (Jax Matsuo x MC) On a Rainy Afternoon (Thomas Hunt x OC) Addiction (Tobias Carrick x F!MC)

One Night (Thomas Hunt x OC) 🍋🍋🍋

One Way or Another (Maxwell Beaumont x OC*Sherry Alcantar)

[openheartfanfics]

Newly Added Fics

Sep 24 - 30, 2022  

🎭 Angst  |  🦚 Angsty Fluff  |  🛸 AU  |  ☁ Fluff  |  ♥ NSFW  |  📚 Series  |  📷 Edit  |  📱 TextFic  |  Ⓜ Mature

BRYCE LAHELA

Both are Good: An Open Heart/Platinum Crossover - @aallotarenunelma & @peonierose 🛸

A chance meeting between Bryce Lahela and Raleigh Carrera leads to an unexpected friendship.

BRYCE X F!OC

Pink Champagne - @peonierose 📷 ☁

Luna and her friends celebrate her birthday and her bachelorette party. Going away on a trip to Greece.

ETHAN X F!MC / F!OC

A Weekend Away With The Ramsey’s - @genevievemd  📷 ☁

Ethan and Gen get the keys to their new vacation home on the cape and spend the weekend. [Social Media]

Closure - @liaromancewriter  🎭

When an ex asks Ethan for a second chance, he realizes that the past is best left behind. Feat. Harper Emery [Ex Came Back]

Faking - @txemrn  ☁

With baby Ramsey not sleeping through the night, Ethan and Tatum make a pact of who gets up with the little one. [Domestic; Family]

Falling Into Ruin - @the-pale-goddess 🎭

Tension rises between Tiffany and Ethan at the Halloween party. [Donahue’s; Pining]

In Sickness and In Health - @potionsprefect  ☁

Victoria struggles with a serious case of morning sickness. [Pregnancy; Illness/Injury]

Long Time Coming - @jerzwriter  ♥

Kaycee and Ethan have been looking forward to this night for a long time, but when things go wrong, Kaycee drowns her sorrows...can they salvage the night? [Donahue’s; Public]

Luck of the Draw - @jamespotterthefirst  ☁

There’s no one else in the world she’d rather be stuck with. [Office]

Rangi Saari - @gryffindordaughterofathena ☁

It's his first time seeing her wearing a saari (traditional wear of women of Bengal).

Sensual Sunday - @utterlyinevitable ♥

Nothing could deter Ethan from loving his Rebecca. Not even some chub rub. [Oral]

Something Happened on the Way to Forever - @danijimenezv  📚 ☁

[mini: wip] Wedding planning is not always as easy and smooth as people seem to thing. These are a few key moments and bumps in the road that happened in between their engagement and their actual wedding.

Part 1: The Engagement Party

The Intern’s Birthday - @cryomyst  ☁

Ethan’s plans to let Alex off on her birthday clashes with her brother’s plans to celebrate with her.

Under Her Spell - @lem-20 🎭

Cecilia is wearing a costume and Ethan can’t tear his eyes out of her. [Donahue’s; Pining]

ETHAN X TOBIAS

Haunting - @jerzwriter  ☁ 👻

When Tobias makes plans for a double date with Ethan. He insists he has a foolproof plan, but who ends up the fool in the end?

Jealousy, Jealousy - @peonyblossom 🦚

When Ethan is struggling with the unfairness that is life, he decides he must confide in Tobias about the issue. TW: Discussion of infertility

SIENNA X M!OC

Hilltop Haunts - @liaromancewriter  ☁👻

Max takes Sienna on a haunted tour of their neighborhood, and there are more thrills than chills.

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[raleighcarrera]

it’s real hand-holding, but in a fake context by @vrronica-sawyer for @platinumweekend 💘