p4lepixie

[p4lepixie]

𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

Paint me pink - You turned his entire room into your pink palace. (Fluff)

His Princess - You and Vinnies cat Hera have beef. (Fluff)

[p4lepixie]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

𝒱𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

Vinnie warned you about Hera before you even met her.

“She’s a princess. Just so you know.”

You’d laughed at the time, thinking he meant it in a cute way.

He didn’t.

He meant it in the “this cat thinks she owns my soul and will actively try to ruin your life” kind of way.

And he was right.

The first time you came over and sat on his couch, Hera jumped up behind you, stared at your head for a solid five seconds, and smacked your ponytail.

No hesitation. No fear.

Like, how dare you breathe near her couch and her man?

You turned around, blinking. “Did she just…?”

“She’s just saying hi,” Vinnie said casually, sitting beside you like this was normal.

Then Hera slinked across the back of the couch and sat behind Vinnie’s head, tail flicking, staring down at you like a queen assessing a peasant.

You tried to ignore it.

Until she started slowly pawing at his hoodie string. Then his hair. Then his shoulder.

You reached out to pet her.

She hissed.

At you.

Vinnie just smiled and said, “That’s her love language.”

It wasn’t.

After that, things got worse.

You weren’t allowed to cuddle him on the couch without Hera inserting herself literally, climbing onto Vinnie’s chest and wedging between your faces.

You’d be mid-conversation, knees pulled up on his lap, and Hera would leap into the space, plop down, and curl up like you were the third wheel.

She’d purr only when you weren’t touching her.

Rub her face against Vinnie’s hand, then swipe at yours when you reached over.

Once, she pushed your phone off the coffee table while staring you dead in the eyes.

Another time, you woke up to her sitting on your stomach in the dark like a shadow demon. Just staring. No purrs. No blinking.

Vinnie, of course, didn’t believe the full extent of it.

“She’s a sweetheart.”

“She clawed my sock off my foot.”

“She’s just playing.”

“She growled.”

“She’s expressive.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You raised a little villain.”

“She’s perfect.”

He said it while petting her like the most precious being in the world. Hera purred and gave you a smug look like she knew she’d won.

But then there were the cracks.

One night, you were half asleep on Vinnie’s chest while the two of you watched some late night anime rerun. Hera was curled up in her usual corner of the couch, giving you both the silent treatment.

You shifted, pulling the blanket up. Vinnie rubbed your back. You yawned, and his hand moved to your hair.

And Hera meowed.

Once.

Then again. Louder.

Vinnie looked over. “What?”

She meowed a third time, then stood, stomped across the cushions, and planted herself directly between the two of you, purring aggressively while staring at him.

He blinked. “You’re not serious.”

She pushed her head into his chin.

You stared. “Is she trying to…?”

“Shh. She’s asserting dominance.”

You rolled your eyes. “Over me?”

“She says you’ve gotten too comfortable.”

Eventually, a truce formed.

You brought her a treat once those freeze dried chicken ones she apparently considered worthy of her time.

She ate it, then sat on your thigh for exactly six seconds.

That was the day she allowed you into the kingdom. Kind of.

Now, she’ll sometimes curl up at the foot of the bed when you’re over.

But only if she gets there first.

She still gives you side eye when you kiss Vinnie in the kitchen.

Still knocks your things off the counter occasionally.

Still positions herself directly in the middle of the bed like a fluffy little wall.

But now?

If you stretch out your hand slowly… she doesn’t hiss.

She might even brush her cheek against your knuckle.

And sometimes only when she thinks no one’s watching she curls up near your hip and pretends she’s just trying to get warm.

But Vinnie knows.

And he grins every time.

Because Hera might still act like you’re stealing her man…

But even she can’t pretend you don’t belong here anymore.

[p4lepixie]

𝐂𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

𝑅𝒶𝒻𝑒 𝒞𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝑜𝓃 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

He told you not to come. You showed up anyway. You were already crying by the time you walked to the porch. You told yourself to breathe, to keep your voice steady, to not let it turn into another screaming match. But deep down you knew it was already ruined. You knew the second he texted you back with one word. Don’t.

He never says no.

Not to you. But lately, everything has been different. He snaps faster. You yell louder. The space between fights gets smaller and the bruises on your heart last longer. You used to talk. Now you wait for the next explosion.

You knock anyway.

He opens the door a minute later, shirtless, pissed off, breathing hard like you just woke him up. You probably did. His hair’s a mess and his knuckles look red. The whole house smells like smoke and cologne.

“What do you want,” he says flat. You don’t answer. You walk past him like you still have the right.

He doesn’t stop you. Just shuts the door and follows, shoulders tight and jaw locked. Your heart is already in your throat. You sit on the edge of the couch, wiping your face before he can see the tears, but you know he sees them anyway.

“You’re mad at me,” you say. You look up. “Rafe.” “You always do this,” he mutters. “You come here to pick a fight and act like I’m the problem.”

“I never said you were the only problem.”

He laughs again but it’s dry and bitter. He walks into the kitchen and opens the fridge like he needs space but you follow him anyway.

“You’ve been shutting me out. I’ve tried to talk to you and you just shut down every time.”

“Because I can’t fucking breathe around you,” he snaps. You freeze.

“I say one thing and you twist it. I do one thing and it’s wrong. You push and push and then cry when I push back.” You shake your head, eyes stinging.

“I cry because you say things like that.”

“I say them because they’re true.”

His voice is cold. “I don’t know what you want from me anymore.” You step back. You feel it in your chest like a punch.

“I want you to love me.” That shuts him up.

He sets the beer on the counter and just looks at you. His eyes flicker, like he doesn’t know what to do with that sentence. Like it burns.

“I do.”

“Then act like it.”

He sighs and turns away. “I can’t do this tonight.”“Then when, Rafe?” you say, voice cracking. “When can we have a conversation without breaking each other?”

He presses his palms to the counter and you can see his shoulders shake. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not good enough.”

He turns, fast.

“You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t wake up every day hating myself for how I treat you?”

He’s yelling now. But not because he’s angry.

Because he’s breaking.

“I don’t know how to love someone the way you want me to. I don’t know how to be gentle.”

“You used to be,” you whisper.

“That was before I realized how much you mattered,” he spits. “Before I started waking up every fucking day terrified I’d lose you.”

The silence that follows is sharp.

You watch him run a hand down his face.

“I don’t say things right. I get angry. I fuck up. But you walking away every time we fight makes me feel like I already lost.”

You feel your breath catch.

“I walk away because staying feels like bleeding.”

He flinches at that.

You move closer, slowly, like you’re both animals that might bite.

“You don’t have to be perfect. I don’t even want perfect. I just want to feel safe with you again.”

His voice is quieter now.

“I don’t know how to make you feel safe when I don’t feel safe in my own head.”

You swallow hard.

“I know.”

He looks at you like he wants to fall to his knees.

“Then why do you stay?”

You walk toward him and press a hand to his chest.

“Because even when it’s ugly, it’s still you.”

His arms wrap around you like they always do. Fast. Tight. Desperate.

“I’m trying,” he says into your neck. “I know it doesn’t look like it. But I am.”

You believe him.

But that doesn’t make it easier.

That night, you stay.

You sleep in his bed even though your back is sore from the way he grabbed your arm earlier and you still taste salt on your lips from crying too hard.

He pulls you against him like he always does. Breath warm on your shoulder. Fingers resting on your waist. Like he never wants to let go. Like letting go might kill him.

He whispers your name.

Then, “Don’t leave.” You say nothing.Because if you open your mouth, you’ll say it back. And you don’t know if that’s a promise you can keep.

[p4lepixie]

VINNIE HACKER Twitch 1/23/25

[p4lepixie]

⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐤 ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ⋆

𝒱𝒾𝓃𝓃𝒾𝑒 𝐻𝒶𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚｡˚ ⋆

Vinnie did not notice how much she had taken over his room until he tripped over a plushie trying to get to his desk. At first it had only been her vape, the pink one she carried around like it was a fashion accessory. Then it was her gloss tube rolling off the edge of his desk, and her perfume bottle sitting next to his cologne.

Her hairbrush had taken up permanent space on his dresser and his hoodie pockets were carrying tampons he never remembered grabbing. He did not mind it. He actually liked it. But it was getting really hard to play it cool when his Twitch chat kept asking why his sheets looked like they were stolen from a childhood bedroom.

It was not just the bed either. His mirror had lip gloss kisses on sticky notes stuck to the corner. His laundry basket had three of her socks in it and one little pink pair of lace panties that he kept folding carefully and never gave back.

His closet had a fuzzy pink cardigan shoved into the back behind his boxing hoodie and a pair of slippers that did not belong to him. The worst part was that he never told her to stop. Every time she left something, she did it with a smile, half playful, like she was daring him to say no. And every time she came back, she’d find it exactly where she left it. She never said anything about that either.

She was his secret. The kind he wanted to keep and show off at the same time. He liked being selfish about her. Liked that only he got to see her in his bed, face buried in a Hello Kitty plush, mouth open just a little in sleep, hoodie riding up to expose soft thighs and smooth skin he could barely stop touching. The pink sheets were her idea, and he had not even fought her on it. If she wanted to turn his entire room into a Hello Kitty shrine, he would let her. As long as she stayed in it.

The night had been quiet, the kind of slow where his stream had ended early and he came back to the scent of her vanilla perfume clinging to his pillows. She was already in bed, legs tangled in his blanket, phone forgotten on the floor beside her. One of her wrists was tucked under her cheek. Her body shifted slightly when he stepped closer, but she did not open her eyes.

He stood at the side of the bed for a moment, watching the way her breath rose and fell softly. Her thighs were bare and the hoodie she wore had slipped off one shoulder. There were little lip gloss smudges on his pillowcase, the same light pink as the vape that sat charging beside his phone.

When he finally sat down, she stirred a little, turning toward him in her sleep. His hand reached down without thinking, fingers dragging gently up her thigh. The warmth of her skin made his breath catch. He leaned in, kissing her cheek softly before brushing her hair back from her face. Her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded, sleepy and soft, and he could see that lazy smile tugging at her lips.

“I was waiting for you” she whispered, voice raspy in that way that made his whole body react. She stretched like a cat, hoodie sliding higher on her thighs, plushie still hugged to her chest like she had fallen asleep mid cuddle.

He reached down and tugged it out of her arms, replacing it with himself. She whined a little but let him pull her against his chest. His hand slipped under the hem of her hoodie and found bare skin waiting for him.

“You always fall asleep in my bed like you live here” he said into her hair, voice low and teasing but honest. Her nose scrunched up as she shifted closer, pressing her mouth to his neck before she mumbled something about it feeling like home. He stilled at that.

Something heavy settled in his chest, slow and quiet. She always said things like that without thinking, like she did not know what they meant to him. Like she had no idea how much he wanted to keep her.

His hand moved lower, slipping between her thighs, finding the familiar heat that waited for him there. She gasped, legs twitching slightly as she shifted onto her back. Her hoodie bunched up around her ribs, exposing soft skin and those little pink panties that never stood a chance when he was like this.

Her eyes blinked up at him now, a little clearer, a little more awake, and he could already see the look he loved pulling across her face. The one that was equal parts nervous and needy. She knew what he was doing. She just liked when he made her admit it.

“Tell me” he murmured as he pushed her panties aside. She bit her lip, letting her legs fall open slowly. Her hand reached up and curled into the fabric of his hoodie. His fingers slid against her slick folds and he could feel how warm she already was.

“I missed you” she said softly.

He did not answer. Just smiled and leaned down, kissing her until she melted under his touch. Her lips were sweet, still sticky from whatever gloss she had been wearing earlier. He moved down her body, licking into her thighs, kissing the edge of her underwear before pulling them off completely. She looked up at him with those soft sleepy eyes and a whimper on her breath as he kissed her again, this time on her clit, slow and deliberate. She cried out, hands flying to his hair, pulling him closer like she was afraid he might stop.

He didn’t.

She came hard. Loud. Writhing on pink sheets with her fingers tangled in his hoodie and her voice cracking around his name. The plushie beside her rolled off the bed and hit the floor with a soft thump. Neither of them noticed.

When he finally crawled back up and kissed her, she was already gasping, legs still trembling as she whispered something like please under her breath. He was already hard. His pants were half undone. She reached for him like she always did, with both hands and a whimper that made him want to ruin her.

He pushed into her slowly, watching her eyes roll back as her legs snapped around his waist. Her hands clung to his shoulders and she moaned so loud it went straight to his head. He had fucked her in this bed a dozen times. But something about the way her thighs trembled, the way her nails dug into his skin, the way her little pink vape glowed beside the pillows while she cried into a Hello Kitty plush as he thrusted into her hard and deep, made this one feel different.

He fucked her like he was trying to paint her onto his sheets.

She took every inch with that perfect little whine, whimpering his name between gasps, legs shaking as he bottomed out again and again. Her mouth opened and her eyes fluttered and she kept begging him to slow down but he knew she did not mean it. She just wanted to feel every second of it. She just wanted to be full. And he wanted to give it all to her.

When he came, it was deep and rough, hands gripping her hips as he groaned her name and spilled into her with a final sharp thrust. Her body jerked under him and her nails dragged across his back. She was already leaking by the time he pulled out and she blinked up at him, dazed, glowing, completely undone.

He kissed her forehead and pulled the blanket over them both. She tucked herself against his chest and smiled into his neck.

“You are really gonna let me turn your whole life pink” she whispered.

He laughed and kissed the top of her head.

“You already did” he said.

Then he pulled the plushie off the floor and tucked it behind her head.

Because if she was staying, he wanted her comfortable. And if that meant a bed full of Hello Kitty, pink vapes, strawberry lip gloss, and her soaking his sheets twice a week, then he would take it all.

[p4lepixie]

GUYS I rlly wanna start writing for vinnie hacker too, he’s my latest obsession.

[p4lepixie]

I’m redoing my entire master list tn, I’m gonna kms

[p4lepixie]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 - ౨ৎ

Ditzy!Reader

Swan!Reader

Sweetheart!Pogue!Reader

Gold-digging!Maybank!Reader

Crazy!Delulu!Reader

The One That Got Away 1 part two Part three

- You’d never expect to get yourself trapped in a life of hook ups with Rafe Cameron just to get over a person you’ve never dated only loved. (Angst, fluff, smut)

Domestic Bliss -Rafe Cameron is stuck in a cold, crumbling marriage, but finds comfort in his young, devoted babysitter who quietly plays housewife behind his wife’s back. He doesn’t realize she’s obsessively planning to replace Sophia, down to secretly trying to get pregnant. One night, while Sophia’s out, Rafe gives in again and the reader makes sure it counts. (Secret affair smut.)

California Dreams’ -Rafe used to be so so angry and now he’s finally at peace with himself. (Fluff)

I Bet on Loosing Dogs’ part two - You have been hooking up with Rafe Cameron’s for months now and he’s so sweet and good to you and you guys go on dates once or twice a week, you think it means something but what happens when you overhear Rafe at a party talking to a pretty girl. (Angst)

The Things’ We Don’t Know - You’re Rafe’s best-friend and you’ve liked him for years, and it’s pretty clear you’re in love with him but when you fianlly give up and move on what happens. (Angst/Fluff.)

I’ll Say it When I Mean it - You love Rafe so much and all he can bother to say back is that he cares about you to, and it breaks you every time so you finally boil over. (Angst/Fluff.)

Arranged Agreements (stand alones but series.) - You Have known the Cameron’s for years so to your family, well known kooks. You father and Rafes father have planned an arrangement for marriage between you two since you were eight and he was older. I mean it’s not so bad considering you’re inlove with him and he loves you. (Fluff)

Again & Again - You are friends + benefits with Rafe and you just can’t help but fall in love. (Smut/Angst)

Sweet trouble - You have a cute coffee date with your boyfriend Rafe. (Fluff)

Mrs Chatter-box - You never stop talking, like seriously you never stfu. You’re still talking when Rafe is halfway in you… (Smut/Fluff)

𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 - ౨ৎ

Wake-Up Call - JJ Maybank used to live on the cut with his abusive father now he’s living in a mansion with his rich girlfriend and his newborn baby who can’t seem to let him get some nights of peace. (Fluff and slight past angst.)

Nights Like This - When the baby has finally gone to bed you and JJ get a chance to wind down and do some dishes but JJ has other plans. (Smut ish.)

Dry humping - Your Rafe Cameron’s sister and your in a secret relationship with JJ Maybank, your to scared to loose your virginity but a little dry humping won’t hurt. (Smut, fluff.)

Loud Than Love - JJ is a very supportive boyfriend (fluff)

Casual - It’s hard being casual when my favorite bra is in your dresser. (Angst, smut, fluff.)

Ultra-Violence pt.2 - Toxic relationship with Rafe has caused you to drift far from your pogue friends their concern grows day by day the more you don’t answer. (Angst)

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐲 - ౨ৎ

Pumpkin-Spice Season - Being an actor means not a lot of time off but when Drew does get time off he loves to spend it with you going wherever you want doing whatever. (Fluff)

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢) - ౨ৎ

Break her in - JJ x Reader x Rafe threesome (Smut)

Do I Wanna Know? - Reader has a lot of issues one of them being fully committed to just one man cause what’s the fun in that? It leads you down a path of cheating on Rafe and JJ as well as lying about being a virgin… (Smut/Angst/Toxic themes.)

𝐎𝐁𝐗 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐬 - ౨ৎ

What Jelly Cat You’d Get

[p4lepixie]

Idk if you know but clicking on the works in your masterlist doesnt work, it takes us to a different profile & says nothing is there

ABHHHHHH WTFF, I js tagged it in my featured search on my page so if it still isn’t working go there!!

[p4lepixie]

Hey!!! 🫶🏽💖First of all I would like to say that I have literally looked through your ENTIRE blog and I am IN LOVE with YOU(🥹🤭) and what you write!!! I love your style, you're very kind and sweet and friendly! I am very proud of you for achieving so much in such a short time!!! I'm sick right now, I have a fever, sore throat, runny nose for almost a week and sometimes I would rather die (😞😞💔) but your blog has cheered me up! I giggled and swung my feet when I read more and more!! 🛐🌷🥹 I would like to like EVERY post of yours and reblog it further - but I am so afraid that you will block me and think that I am spamming you, which is why many people have brought it to my attention :(( I hope/I KNOW that your blog will be very, very popular in the future, please do not forget about me then! I wish you a nice day or night, it depends where you live! I am eagerly awaiting your next post. Please do not think that I am mentally ill or that I am crazy for writing this, but I really like your blog! I love you, drink lots of water and take care of yourself(💘💝💖) Sorry if I wrote something wrong, English is not my native language 😞😞 kisses! 💋💋💋💋💞💕🌷

AWEEE <3333 I love you too, that means the fucking world to me. I’d love to be moots!!! Also I don’t mind spamming at all I never block them! But again thank you so much 🤭🥲😭❤️!!! Also your English is amazing!!! I appreciate you lots and I hope you get well soon 💞 you literally js inspired me to write again!

[p4lepixie]

Why won’t tumblr add my posts to tags?

[p4lepixie]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 (𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬)

Summary: your enemies with Bellamy Blake, but instead of hating him your in love with him.

Pairing - gender neutral reader x Bellamy Blake

The only thing more unbearable than the heat outside was the sound of Bellamy Blake’s voice.

He was barking orders again. Pointing fingers. Acting like he was commander of the camp even though Clarke was clearly the one people trusted. Still, that never stopped him. It never stopped him from getting in the way. Never stopped him from pulling you aside to critique every little thing you did wrong. And if you were honest, half the time it was not even wrong. It was just not the way he would do it.

You and Bellamy were enemies. Plain and simple. From the first time you met him he had that look that smug, unbothered, tall and broad shouldered arrogance that made your skin itch. And the worst part was that you could not even look at him without wanting to punch him or grab him. Sometimes both. His mouth always moved just a little too confidently. His eyes always lingered just a little too long. He never looked at you with indifference. He looked at you like a challenge. And that pissed you off more than anything.

You hated how much he noticed you. Hated how you noticed him too.

You could feel it whenever he was near. He always got a little too close when he talked to you. He leaned in when he did not need to. He touched your arm like it meant nothing. And you played it off like it disgusted you. But deep down it did not. It did the opposite. His presence made your whole body tighten. Like it was bracing for impact.

The two of you fought constantly. If you miscalculated the amount of food stores for the week he would call it sloppy. If he missed a scouting rotation you would bring it up in front of others just to watch him scowl. You hated each other. You really did. But that hatred was sharp and alive and vibrating with something neither of you had the guts to name out loud.

Tonight was the last straw.

You had been listening. Watching. Clarke was prepping for a meeting with Lexa and the Grounders and you knew Bellamy was going with her. You knew it before anyone said it. Of course he would be the one to protect her. Of course he would be the one who got to stand beside her and speak. Not you.

You had trained harder. You had proven yourself. You were not just some reckless kid. But every time it came to something real Bellamy always looked right past you. Like you were not strong enough. Not good enough.

And the worst part? You thought he hated you. You really believed it. The way he dismissed you. The way he rolled his eyes every time you tried to insert yourself into the inner circle. It burned. It lit something awful in your chest and it made you want to scream.

So when you found out he and Clarke were going to meet with Lexa the next morning you decided you would go anyway.

You told Octavia you were sneaking out. You told her that you would find a way to follow them. You said that if Bellamy would not let you talk then you would show him you were more than just someone to babysit. You would force him to see you.

What you did not know was that Bellamy had heard everything.

He was standing just outside when you said it. He had not meant to stop. He had not meant to listen. But your voice, your voice always pulled him in.

When he heard your plan his blood turned cold.

He wanted to storm in. He wanted to yell. He wanted to throw something. But he did not. Instead he stood there. Silent. Thinking.

Because the truth was Bellamy did not hate you. Not even close.

The truth was that he noticed everything about you because he could not stop himself. He noticed the way your hands moved when you talked. He noticed the way you got defensive when someone doubted you. He noticed how much smaller you were than him but never weaker. And every time you spoke back to him it made his stomach twist in the worst and best way. You got under his skin like no one else.

That was the problem. You made him care.

And caring meant danger.

So he made a decision.

Later that night when the bonfire was burning outside and the camp was buzzing with noise he slipped away from the circle and made his way to your hut.

He did not knock.

He opened the door and stepped inside with the same energy he always carried. Big. Confident. Like he belonged wherever he went. His body filled the doorway and his gaze locked onto you instantly.

You froze.

He saw the bag on your cot. Half-packed. Supplies strewn around like a guilty secret.

He closed the door behind him.

You straightened your spine and glared at him. “What the hell are you doing in here”

He took his time answering. His eyes moved slowly around your space like he was studying it. Like he was trying to memorize it. “You always this messy when you are planning something stupid”

You folded your arms. “I am not doing anything”

He gave a low laugh. His eyes never left you. “You think I am stupid”

“You said it. Not me”

That made him grin. Real and cocky and infuriatingly attractive.

He stepped closer. “So what is the plan then” he asked, voice casual but low “You just gonna sneak off behind my back like a coward”

“I am going because you never let me be part of anything important” you snapped. “You treat me like I am useless”

“I treat you like you are reckless”

“You treat me like you hate me”

He paused. His smile faded.

And then he stepped even closer.

There was barely space between you now. You could feel the heat of his body. You could smell the fire smoke on his clothes. Your heart beat faster but you held your ground.

“I don’t hate you” he said slowly. “You just make everything harder”

You swallowed hard.

His eyes dragged over your face like he was drinking you in. Like he was letting himself really look for the first time.

“You drive me crazy” he said. “Every time you talk back. Every time you act like you know better than me. Every time you walk into a room and pretend you do not see the way I look at you”

You didn’t breathe.

Bellamy took another step. Now your back was nearly touching the wall. His voice dropped even lower.

“You think I hate you because it is easier than thinking about what I actually feel when I look at you”

Your lips parted. No sound came out.

His hand reached up. Slow. Gentle.

Fingers brushed a piece of hair from your face. His knuckles grazed your skin. His breath hit your cheek and you felt it all the way down your spine.

“You feel it too” he said.

It was not a question.

He leaned in like he was going to kiss you.

You did not stop him.

Your eyes fluttered half shut. His mouth hovered just over yours. So close it almost hurt. You could feel the tension pull tight between you like a wire ready to snap.

And then he stopped.

He tilted his head.

His lips brushed your ear instead.

“I can’t let you go”

And before the confusion could register the metal snapped around your wrist.

You gasped.

Then the other cuff closed around the support beam behind you. Locked.

“What the hell”

Bellamy stepped back. Smirking. Like he had just pulled off the greatest heist in camp history.

“I told you. You’re reckless”

You yanked at the cuffs. “You bastard. Let me out”

“Can’t do that”

“You aren’t serious”

“I am always serious when it comes to you”

He turned and walked to the door.

Then paused.

He looked over his shoulder at you. His eyes were dark. His smile slow.

“You look good like that by the way”

And then he was gone.

Leaving you alone. Breathless, Furious, burning. And turned on.

[p4lepixie]

Hey, babe :) I was just wondering if it’s just on my end, but it seems like the link to your masterlist on your pinned post is not working <3

Noooooo! It got taken down I’m gonna cryyyyyyy. Ugh. I’ll redo rn <3

[p4lepixie]

I’ll be posting some rage fics tmrrrrrrr im back!!! Tysm for 416 followers!

[p4lepixie]

I’m alive. I’ll be posting again soon I’m sorry!

[p4lepixie]

𝐀𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 - ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

(Rafe Cameron x fem!reader fluff <3)

౨ৎ

on the Netflix home screen and the crackle of the dying fire. A dull orange glow danced across the walls of the dimly lit living room, flickering shadows across the tall ceilings and expensive furniture of the Cameron estate. Most of the lights were off, casting the whole place in a cozy kind of darkness.

Rafe sat on the long leather couch, one arm tucked behind his head, the other wrapped gently around you. Your body was curled into his side, your head rising and falling softly with his steady breaths. He didn’t move. Didn’t dare to.

Your cheek rested over his heart, and he swore—he could feel the rhythm of your breathing syncing with his own. Your lashes fluttered gently against your cheek, your lips parted just slightly in sleep. Peaceful. Serene. Untouched by all the darkness he used to drown in.

He didn’t know how he got so lucky. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you. But God, he was never letting go.

Not this time.

Rafe dropped his gaze to your face, watching the way your hair fanned out over his chest. A small smile tugged at his lips, something honest and soft. Something new. The kind of smile only you ever got to see.

He bent down and pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehead, his hand sliding gently along your back.

“You’re everything, y’know that?” he whispered, voice low, like a secret he couldn’t say when the sun was up.

You murmured something soft in your sleep, shifting slightly.

The fire gave one last crackle and dimmed into glowing embers. Rafe glanced at the clock.

2:03 AM.

Time to get you upstairs.

Carefully, as if lifting something made of glass, he slid his arms under you and stood. You stirred, your face nuzzling into his chest as he carried you bridal-style across the cool hardwood floor. His bare feet padded quietly up the grand marble staircase, moonlight from the tall windows catching the edge of his jaw and cheekbones.

Halfway up, you blinked sleepily, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“Mmm… Rafe?” you murmured, voice soft and fragile. “What’s going on?”

Rafe held you tighter, kissing the crown of your head. His voice was so gentle it barely touched the air. “Shhh… It’s okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

You let out a tiny hum, already drifting off again in the safety of his arms.

By the time he reached the bedroom, your head was tucked back under his chin, your breathing deep and even.

He laid you down on the massive bed with a gentleness no one ever thought Rafe Cameron possessed. He pulled the blankets over you, tucking them under your chin like it was second nature now. Like he was made to take care of you.

Sliding in beside you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back to his chest. He breathed in the scent of your shampoo, pressing another kiss to your temple.

“Never goin’ back to who I was,” he whispered. “Not when I’ve got you.”

You sighed in your sleep, unconsciously leaning closer.

Rafe closed his eyes, the sound of your heartbeat lulling him into sleep not the rush of a high, not chaos, not violence.

Just you. Just peace.

Just love.

[p4lepixie]

fic idea! ex boyfriend jj who is desperate for you, like imagine it — he cheated on you with kie, and being the sweet girl that you are, forgave him. it's not like you'd forget though, when you're hanging out with him and your other friends (because of course you'd stay friends) he keeps doing nice things for and to you, he tries to become a better guy (no more fights, no more flirting, no more being reckless) and all that, but you don't see him as anything more than a friend anymore. months after months he tries to prove himself, to you. to give him another chance. (not that you'd notice though, you think he's just being nice) and he doesn't stop, not even when you get a boyfriend.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

(I love your brain sm, best anon ever. <3)

౨ৎ

The sun poured over the marsh like warm honey, thick and golden, coating everything in light that made it too easy to forget how cold the past had been. Summer had this way of lying to you. It made you believe things were softer than they were. That people could change.

Your legs hung over the edge of the dock, heels scuffing the wood, your toes barely brushing the top of the water. You stayed still even when you heard the footsteps behind you. The boards creaked, but not enough to startle you. You would have known that sound anywhere.

JJ sat down beside you like he always used to, quiet and a little careful now. There was space between you. Not much, but enough that it made you ache in a way you refused to let him see.

“I figured you would be here,” he said. His voice was lower than usual, softer. Like he was trying not to scare something off.

You did not look at him. You just nodded. “It’s quiet out here.”

He hummed in agreement, stretching his arms over his knees. The air between you held weight. You felt it pressing against your ribs, felt it in your throat, behind your eyes.

This was where you used to come with him when everything was easier. When you could still trust him.

Now it was just a place.

“I brought you something,” JJ said after a long moment.

You looked over, surprised. He held out a bottle of water and a bag of your favorite chips. A dumb gesture. Small. Kind. The kind of thing he had been doing for months now.

You took it without a word. You were thirsty, but you hated how your fingers brushed his when you grabbed it. You hated how he smiled at that, like it meant anything.

“It doesn’t change anything,” you said quietly.

JJ looked down at his hands. They were dirty in the way all his clothes always were. Calloused fingers, bruises on his knuckles, a scrape healing on his forearm. He still fought too much, still worked too hard, still never listened to reason.

“I know,” he said. “I am not trying to change anything. I just wanted you to have something to drink.”

You scoffed, more out of reflex than anything else.

“You keep doing this,” you said. “Being nice. Buying me stuff. Letting me talk first in group conversations. Laughing at everything I say even when it’s not funny. You act like we are still a thing.”

“We were not just a thing,” he said, voice tight.

“No,” you said. “We were a mistake.”

JJ flinched like you hit him.

You did not take it back.

For a moment, all you could hear was the wind and the lap of the water. Far off, a gull screamed something miserable into the sky. The cicadas had not started yet. It was too early in the evening.

“I know what I did,” JJ said after a long silence.

You closed your eyes.

“I think about it every day,” he went on. “Every fucking day. I know I don’t deserve shit from you. But I am still here because I want to be. Not to make you feel bad. Not to get something back. I just want to try and be better than I was.”

You finally looked at him.

JJ was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched. The muscles in his throat were working like he was trying to swallow something sharp.

He looked older now. Worn down. Maybe that was what guilt did to people. You were not sure.

“I forgave you,” you said softly. “I meant that.”

“I know.”

“But it does not mean I want you.”

He nodded. Slowly. Like it took all his effort.

“And you are with Rafe now,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You blinked. That was the first time he had said it out loud. The first time either of you had acknowledged the truth of it, even though the whole island knew.

You were with Rafe Cameron.

And JJ had no one but himself.

You looked away again, the air thick with the things you did not say.

Like the way JJ had looked when he first saw you holding Rafe’s hand. Or the fact that Rafe was everything JJ never could be. Polished. Unbothered. A boy who knew how to keep his promises. At least, for now.

You had not told Rafe that JJ still did things for you. That JJ still tried.

“I should go,” JJ said, voice hollow.

You did not stop him.

You listened as his boots scuffed against the dock, each step dragging a piece of your past away with it.

When he was gone, you looked down at the water and whispered to yourself,

“You never should have fucked her.”

And you were not talking about Rafe.

JJ left the dock like something heavy was chained to his back. You did not watch him walk away, but you felt it. The silence he left behind was louder than anything he could have said. You sat there until the sun started to sink lower, turning everything a kind of tired orange, your drink forgotten beside you.

You were not crying.

You never cried over JJ anymore.

By the time you walked back up the dirt path to your car, the sky was bruising with dusk and your phone buzzed twice in your back pocket.

Rafe: Dinner still on?

Rafe: Or should I come pick you up?

You hesitated before answering.

You: Yeah. I’ll be there. Just got caught up with Sarah.

The lie rolled out easy. Too easy. Rafe was not the jealous type, but he was the possessive type, and there was a difference.

He was already at the house when you got there, leaned against his car with a bottle of wine in one hand and a cocky little smile on his face. His sunglasses were pushed into his hair, and his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show the edge of his collarbone. He looked like someone who never had to ask for what he wanted.

“Hey, pretty girl,” he said when you stepped out. He’s finally in a good mood today.

You kissed his cheek because it was the safe place to kiss. He smelled like clean cologne and salt air and the kind of trouble you used to think was romantic.

“Took you long enough,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I lost track of time.”

He tilted his head like he almost believed you.

You slid into the passenger seat and let him drive you toward the restaurant you always went to when he wanted to be seen. His hand rested on your thigh the whole way there. He talked about something shallow. Surf conditions maybe. Or Topper getting kicked out of another bar. You did not really listen.

You just nodded when it seemed right.

Dinner was loud. The restaurant was crowded. You saw people you knew. People who looked at you like they remembered the way JJ had once kissed you against that very wall. The same booth. The same goddamn drinks.

You hated that it still clung to you like smoke.

Rafe ordered for both of you. He liked to do that. You let him. You sipped your wine and laughed when he said something biting and charming. You touched his arm when he made a joke that cut someone else down.

You were a good girlfriend.

At least on paper.

By the time dessert came, you had almost forgotten what JJ’s voice sounded like. Almost.

Until your phone lit up.

A message.

From him.

You swallowed the breath that tried to rise.

JJ: I left my hoodie in your truck. You can toss it if you want.

You stared at the words like they were a trap.

He had not left a hoodie in your truck.

He was lying.

Rafe was watching you now, his jaw twitching slightly as he raised his wine glass again.

“You good?” he asked.

You nodded too quickly.

“Yeah. Just Sarah being dramatic again.”

Another lie.

Another reason to avoid looking in the mirror later.

You opened the message again that night when Rafe was asleep beside you. His arm was heavy across your waist, breath even, warm against your shoulder. He had been good to you lately. Steady. Comfortable.

He had not kissed someone else.

He had not touched your best friend and come back with apologies that broke your heart all over again.

But he was not JJ.

You stared at the message for a long time. Your thumb hovered.

Then you replied.

You: It is not in there. You just made that up.

No response.

You did not expect one.

You rolled over and tried to let Rafe’s presence soothe you, but it was like trying to sleep with an open window during a storm. Too much wind. Too much noise.

Too much that did not belong.

The next day, JJ was already at the Boneyard when you got there. Pope was laughing at something he said. Sarah was barefoot, sipping out of a flask. Kie avoided your eyes. She always did now.

You did not know why you kept coming.

Maybe it was habit.

Maybe it was punishment.

JJ’s gaze found you the second you stepped onto the sand. He straightened up, expression unreadable. You pretended not to notice the way he had changed his shirt. Like he had tried.

Rafe was not with you this time.

You needed space.

Or maybe you just wanted to remember how it felt to be here without him.

“You came,” JJ said, walking up slowly.

You shrugged. “I always come.”

He gave you a smile. Small. Broken. “You texted me,” you added, quietly.

JJ looked down. “Yeah.” “Why?”

He hesitated. Then looked at you. Really looked. “Because I wanted you to think about me.”

You felt the breath leave your lungs before you could stop it. “That is not fair,” you said.

“I know.”

“You do not get to do that anymore.”

“I know.”

“Then stop trying.”

JJ took a step back like it hurt to stand near you. Like your words were knives. “I can’t,” he said. And then he walked away.

Again.

And you let him.

Again.

The morning after the Boneyard felt heavier than it should have. You woke up in Rafe’s bed, sunlight cutting across your face like a warning. Your limbs were stiff, throat dry, stomach hollow.

You had not slept well.

Rafe wasn’t beside you.

That was the first thing you noticed.

The second was your phone buzzing on the nightstand.

1 new message — JJ

You stared at it for a second, heart climbing into your throat. You didn’t touch it. Not yet. Not when you knew it was probably another quiet little sentence meant to keep him on your mind. And worse, it was working.

You sat up, pulling the blanket tighter around your chest. The house was too quiet. Rafe’s house was always quiet like that. Not calm — quiet, like silence was something forced down its throat. You got dressed in the shirt he had tossed on the floor the night before, the collar stretched and smelling like his cologne and weed and something colder underneath.

You stepped out of the room just in time to hear a drawer slam shut in the kitchen.

Rafe was pacing, shirtless, one hand clenched around a bottle of pills, the other running through his hair.

He looked up when he saw you. His eyes were too bright, his smile too fast.

“There she is,” he said. “Sleeping beauty.”

You said nothing.

He walked over and kissed your cheek, too hard. Too sharp.

“You were tossing all night,” he said. “Nightmares again?”

You lied without thinking.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He watched you like he didn’t believe it. His jaw twitched. That smile was still on his face, but it was starting to crack.

“You weren’t dreaming about your ex or anything, right?” he said with a crooked grin.

You blinked.

“What?”

“JJ,” he said. “Don’t play dumb.”

You crossed your arms, something cold forming in your stomach.

“Why would I dream about JJ?”

“I don’t know,” Rafe said. “You tell me.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

The silence stretched until it turned sour.

“Jesus, Rafe,” you said finally. “You sound insane.”

He laughed. Loud. Sharp. But there was no humor in it.

“I sound insane?” he repeated. “You’re the one who can’t stop looking at him every time we’re in the same fucking room.”

“That is not true.”

“Bullshit.”

You looked down, voice quiet.

“He cheated on me.”

“Yeah, and yet you keep orbiting him like some sad little moon hoping he turns into the sun.”

You winced.

He was right. And he was wrong. And he knew exactly how to cut you open with the things that lived in your chest.

Rafe grabbed your chin suddenly, fingers too tight.

“Don’t lie to me,” he said. “You know how much I hate liars.”

You swallowed, heart crawling up your throat.

“I’m not lying.”

His grip stayed there for another second before he let go, stepping back like he hadn’t just squeezed your jaw hard enough to leave a mark.

“Good,” he said, voice too smooth now. “Because I really fucking like you, baby. You know that. Right?”

You nodded.

“I need to hear it,” he said.

You forced the words out.

“I know.”

He smiled again. Bigger this time. As if your fear was something he could drink.

“Good girl,” he said.

Later that day, you did not go home. You drove. Nowhere in particular. Windows down, radio off. The wind whipped through your hair and it felt like something trying to pull you back into yourself.

You stopped at the convenience store on the edge of the island. The one no one really went to except kids skipping school and guys looking to score without being seen.

JJ was there.

He was leaning against the vending machine, hood up, jaw bruised from something that probably happened last night. He had a cigarette in his fingers and a look on his face that went soft when he saw you.

You froze.

He stood straighter.

“I didn’t think you’d come here,” he said.

“I wasn’t planning to.”

You stepped closer. Close enough to smell the smoke on him. Close enough to see the little cut above his eyebrow, probably from another fight he said he was done with.

“Is that from Rafe?” he asked suddenly, voice low.

Your stomach twisted.

“What?”

He pointed gently at your jaw.

The bruise. Faint. Small. But visible now in the daylight.

You reached up before you could stop yourself, fingertips brushing it like maybe you could erase it with enough pressure.

“No,” you said quickly. “No, he didn’t— it’s not—”

JJ’s face changed.

He took a slow step forward.

“I swear to God,” he whispered, “if he’s putting his fucking hands on you—”

“He’s not,” you said again, firmer. “JJ, it’s not what you think.”

He stared at you.

You stared back.

Neither of you said anything.

Then you looked away.

“He’s just… intense,” you said. “He’s not like you.”

“Yeah,” JJ said. “I know.”

He put out the cigarette on the metal edge of the vending machine. The sound was small. Final.

“I was a shitty boyfriend,” he said. “But I never hurt you.”

Your eyes burned.

You hated that he was right.

“I let you down,” he said. “I fucked up in every way a person can. But I never laid a hand on you.”

You nodded, throat closing.

JJ looked at you like he still knew your every thought. Like he still cared. Like he would still give up everything to go back to that night and make a different choice.

And part of you the part that still woke up cold wanted to believe that meant something.

“I should go,” you whispered.

JJ stepped back.

“Yeah,” he said. “Me too.”

But neither of you moved. Not for a long time…

HjjThe bruise on your jaw had darkened overnight. You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, light washing over your skin, exposing the ugly truth you had tried to smother under layers of makeup. The discoloration was deeper now, edged with the yellow of healing but still angry beneath the surface. You reached up, fingertips grazing it without pressure, as if the touch alone might convince it to disappear. It didn’t.

You had not cried. You would not cry. Not over this. Not over him. Not anymore.

Your phone buzzed again from the sink. Third time in five minutes.

JJ.

You let it ring once more, staring at the name on the screen, then answered. His voice hit you before you could brace for it.

“Are you okay?”

There was a pause. You swallowed, eyes flicking back up to your reflection. Your voice, when it came, was quieter than you meant it to be.

“I don’t know.”

He didn’t say anything at first. Just breathed. You could hear the tension behind it, the things he was holding back. When he finally spoke again, his voice was careful, firm.

“I saw your face yesterday. The bruise.”

“I told you it wasn’t—”

“I do not believe you.”

You didn’t answer. A bird cried out somewhere beyond the house. The silence around you stretched until it felt like something would snap. And then he spoke again.

“Come outside.”

Your stomach sank. “What?”

“I’m outside your house.”

You blinked, heart kicking against your ribs. With slow steps, you moved toward your bedroom window and pulled the curtain just enough to peek through.

There he was.

JJ stood by his dirtbike, hoodie zipped up to his chin, hair tousled like he had ridden here fast and without thinking. He was staring at your front door, his shoulders rigid with whatever emotion he couldn’t say out loud.

You didn’t speak. You just ended the call and walked outside.

The air was thick with early morning heat and something worse something that clung to your skin. JJ met you halfway down the driveway. He didn’t touch you. He just looked at you like you were something he had lost and kept trying to find again.

“I had to see you,” he said. “I couldn’t let it sit.”

You nodded, arms folded tightly across your chest, unsure if it was to guard against him or yourself.

“I do not care if you hate me,” JJ said, his voice rough. “I do not care if you never want to be with me again. But I’m not going to sit back while that guy puts his fucking hands on you.”

Your throat clenched. You opened your mouth and forced the words out like they were rusted shut. “He loves me.”

JJ’s eyes darkened. “No,” he said, voice flat. “No, he doesn’t. Not if he’s hurting you.”

“He didn’t mean to,” you whispered. “He was upset.”

“Upset does not mean violent.”

You looked away, blinking hard. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to be the girl with the bruise and the excuses.

“You think I don’t see what this is?” JJ’s voice cracked slightly now, that old desperation creeping in. “I fucked up, yeah. I ruined us. I’ll never stop hating myself for that. But I never made you feel scared. I never left marks on you.”

You closed your eyes, chest tight. “Stop.”

“I can’t,” he said. “I won’t.”

A car pulled up fast. The tires ground against gravel.

You both turned.

Rafe’s car skidded to a stop at the curb, engine humming like something alive and furious. The door swung open before it fully parked. Rafe stepped out, shirt clinging to his chest, eyes already locked on JJ.

He looked wild.

Like he had seen enough to decide how this story was going to end.

JJ took a step in front of you without thinking. His hand hovered, not touching, but close enough to make a point.

Rafe’s voice cut across the space between you.

“What the fuck is this?”

You stepped forward. “Rafe, just—”

“Get in the house,” he snapped.

JJ didn’t move. “She’s not going anywhere with you.”

Rafe’s hand slid behind his back. You froze.

It was not a gesture. It was instinct. It was muscle memory from a boy who carried too many threats in his pockets.

And JJ saw it too.

You saw his jaw tighten. He stood his ground.

“I swear to God,” Rafe said, eyes burning, “I will put you in the ground if you touch what’s mine again.”

JJ stepped forward.

“I am not afraid of you.”

Rafe pulled something from behind his waistband.

You gasped.

It was not a bluff.

Not this time.