#Bellamy blake x you

[maddie0101]

breaking through

— based off of THIS request. I hope you like it nonny ! ❤︎

summary: haunted by rumors, the reader kept her distance from bellamy, but he couldn’t shake the pull he felt toward her. on the ring, they became best friends, but as their bond deepens, will they stay friends or will something more blossom between them?

tags/warnings: fluff, small angst, pinning, clarke's a real one, idiots to friends to best friends (still idiots) to lovers, reader trained under abby, medic!reader, slight jealousy, murphy being murphy (we love him), seriously i love murphy in this fic, slight grief, everyone can see it but them!, about it I think?

word count: 10.6k (ngl this one took me longer than usual 😅)

You weren’t one of the hundred.

No criminal record, no rebellion, no scars from time spent locked in a steel box floating through space.

You came down with the rest of the Ark, wide-eyed, heart racing, adrenaline burning through your veins as the dropship rattled, roared, and screamed against the atmosphere.

You’d trained for emergencies, sure. You’d learned how to keep your hands steady while blood soaked through your gloves. Abby made sure of that. But nothing could’ve prepared you for what Earth really felt like.

You weren’t ready for it all. And still, you had no fucking choice.

You stuck close to Clarke and Raven at first. They were your best friends. You’d been friends on the Ark long before everything went to hell. You met Clarke thanks to Abby. And had known Raven since you were young.

But you were quieter. Shy, sometimes. Not the kind of quiet that made people think you were fragile but more like the kind that made them underestimate you.

You were polite, calm, quick to smile when you warmed up to someone… but it took time. Trust didn’t come easy, and down here, that instinct saved your life more than once.

You didn’t know many of the hundred. Just names and faces. But you got to know them through injuries—dislocated shoulders, burns, deep gashes that split skin open like paper. They came to you in pain, and you did what you could to help.

And that's how you met Octavia.

She was in the infirmary more often than anyone, partly because she was reckless, and partly because, you suspected, she just didn’t give a shit about pain. She’d grin at you with blood running down her arms like it was a normal Tuesday.

You liked her. She made it easy. Called you “Doc” even though you weren’t one yet. Talked to you like you mattered. Dragged you out of your own head without even trying.

But somewhere between patching her up and hearing her bitch about Bellamy, the two of you got close. She didn’t care that you were quieter than the others. She liked that you listened. But then through Octavia… came him. Of course.

Bellamy Blake.

He was a name before he was a person. A story before a face. You’d heard it all, the whispered rumors, the way people talked about him like he was some larger-than-life figure. The leader of the hundred. Ruthless. Brave. Complicated as hell. And, of course, the cherry on top, always had a new girl in his bed.

Clarke never confirmed it. Neither did Raven. But you weren’t stupid. So, you kept your distance.

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The first time Bellamy sees you, it’s not the way most people meet.

You’re not talking, not laughing, not even looking in his direction. You’re crouched in the dirt outside medical, sleeves rolled up to your elbows, a line of blood trailing down your forearm from someone else’s arm. Your brow is furrowed in concentration, mouth set in a calm, steady line, and there’s this light breeze that catches the edge of your hair just enough to make him stare. Not in that dumb, slack-jawed kind of way.

More like something in his chest just… pauses.

Because fuck, he’s never seen someone so beautiful without even trying. You’re not showing off, you’re not putting on a performance. You’re just there—half-hidden in the chaos, doing what needs to be done with steady hands and calm eyes like the end of the world doesn’t scare you.

And he thinks you're absolutely breathtaking.

Not just hot, or just pretty, not just someone to look at. You’re the kind of beautiful that makes people forget what they were about to say. The kind that sneaks up on you, settles in your ribs, and doesn’t fucking leave.

Bellamy leans against the railing just outside camp, arms crossed, pretending to watch the gate like he’s on duty. But really, he’s watching you.

You finish wrapping a guy’s wound, give him a firm pat on the shoulder, and say something with the ghost of a smile. It’s small, barely there, but it makes Bellamy’s stomach twist.

And then you look up, just for a second. Your gaze brushes over him, impassive. Not even curious. Like he’s just part of the background noise. And then you turn back toward the med tent, disappearing inside like he hadn’t existed at all.

He doesn’t realize he’s still staring until Clarke walks by and slaps a folder into his chest, shaking him out of whatever spell you'd put him in.

“Try not to drool,” she mutters without looking at him.

He clears his throat. “I wasn’t—shut up.”

Clarke smirks and keeps walking.

Bellamy tells himself to forget it. Tells himself he doesn’t have time for this, not with the camp barely holding together, with supplies low, and threats high.

But then a few nights later, Octavia brings you up. Sitting around the fire after a long patrol, dirt on her face and blood crusted on her sleeve, and she says your name like it’s something sweet. “She’s funny, you know? Like quiet funny. The kind that hits you five seconds later and actually makes you laugh.”

Bellamy grunts, poking at the flames with a stick. “Didn’t know you hung out with her.”

“Barely,” Octavia sighs, dropping her head back against a log. “We’re always running around doing shit. I wish I could. She gets it, though. Doesn’t take it personal.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his stomach twists again. That same tight feeling from the other day returning.

And soon enough, Bellamy learns, little by little, that everyone seems to know you. Raven always lights up when you’re around. Clarke talks to you like she’s known you her whole life. Even Monty’s cracked a few jokes about your sarcasm.

You’re just… there. In the circle. Part of it. Somehow essential without trying to be.

But you’ve never talked to him. Not once.

You’ve looked right past him in meetings, walked by him like he was invisible. And at first, he figured maybe you didn’t like him. Hell, most people didn’t when they first met him. But the more he watched, quietly, without meaning to—the more he realized you weren’t cold.

You were just careful. And yeah, maybe that makes him want to know you more than he fucking should. But It’s hard to ignore you once you’re part of their orbit.

Every time you’re around, there’s this magnetic pull. And Bellamy starts to notice it more, the way people talk about you when you’re not there. How Raven cracks a smile the second you walk into the room, like there’s an inside joke only the two of you share. How Clarke’s face softens when she says your name, how Octavia’s eyes light up when she talks about you.

It all just makes Bellamy…curious.

Curiosity that eats at him and gnaws away at his thoughts.

He tells himself it’s nothing. You’re just another person at camp. Another face in the crowd. But fuck, he can’t stop thinking about you.

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Bellamy doesn’t need stitches. He’s fine. The cut on his shoulder is shallow enough, just deep enough to sting when he moves, but nothing to really worry about. He’s had worse. But that’s not why he’s heading to the infirmary.

No, he’s not here because of the injury. He’s here because of you.

It was a stupid idea really.

He didn’t need to come here, not really. But every time he passed the infirmary, every time you were around, he found himself thinking about you.

You weren’t loud. You weren’t commanding like Clarke or bossy like Raven. But there was something about the way you held yourself, the way you spoke, that made Bellamy want to know more.

And now, here he is—walking into the infirmary with no real reason other than the fact that he wants to talk to you.

As he pushes the door open, the familiar scent of antiseptic and herbs hits him immediately. You’re sitting at the counter, doing something with a set of needles and thread. You don’t look up when he walks in, but he doesn’t need to be told what to do. He’s been here enough times to know how this works.

So, he clears his throat, loud enough to get your attention but not enough to startle you. “Need some stitches,” he mutters, not looking at you but instead scanning the room like he’s trying to avoid the obvious.

You glance up from what you were doing, eyebrows arched in that way that immediately makes his stomach flutter.

He knows that look. The one where you’re sizing him up, figuring him out, and you don’t even have to say a word. You’re already reading him, and it makes him feel like a fucking open book.

“Let me guess,” you say, voice dry, barely a hint of amusement in it. “Took a tumble, got scraped up. Like I don’t know exactly what kind of trouble you get yourself into.”

Bellamy smirks, leaning against the doorframe. There it is. The sarcasm. The sharpness he’d heard about, but hearing it from you feels like a sucker punch.

“Pretty much,” he answers, trying to keep it casual, even though he’s already starting to get that familiar tightness in his chest. “Nothing too serious. Just need a couple stitches.”

You stand up then, grabbing a needle and a few supplies. “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” you say. “I’m pretty good at this. Don’t expect me to be gentle, though. You’ll live, but you might regret coming in here.”

Bellamy chuckles, following you to the nearest cot and sitting down, trying to act like it’s just another day. But God, his heart is beating a little faster now. And every word you say, every movement you make, feels like it’s building something inside him.

You start prepping the area and Bellamy peels off his shirt off like it was nothing. Blood drips down his arm, staining his skin and making the wound even more obvious, but it’s hard to focus on that with the way his muscles flex with every subtle movement.

Stop staring y/n. You blink, trying to shake thought away.

As Bellamy sat down on the edge of the cot his eyes flicked to your hands as you gathered the supplies.

You don’t dare look at him directly, but you can feel the weight of his gaze, studying every move you make. It feels like the air in the room has thickened and the space between you suddenly too small for comfort.

The quiet seems louder now, somehow. Bellamy's still sitting there, close enough for your arm to brush his every time you reach for something, and that proximity is messing with your focus.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you look at the gash on his shoulder. It’s nothing too deep, but it’s enough that it needs to be stitched up properly.

You glance at Bellamy, who’s still watching you closely. There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze, like he’s trying to figure you out, and for some reason, that only adds to the tension between you two.

Your fingers are a little shaky as you start to clean the wound, trying to ignore the way your heart picks up pace every time you feel the heat of his body so close to yours. You can feel his presence, his eyes tracking every movement you make, and that’s definitely making your pulse spike.

It’s just stitches, you remind yourself. Nothing more than that. Nothing to be nervous about. Right?

But it doesn’t help that you can’t ignore the way his muscles flex when he shifts slightly, or the way his breath catches every time your fingers brush against his skin. You press the sterile cloth against his shoulder, and his breath hitches in response, just barely noticeable. It’s enough to make your stomach flip.

He’s not saying anything, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him, and you wonder if he’s just as affected by this close contact as you are.

“Hold still,” you murmur, more to yourself than to him, trying to focus.

Bellamy doesn’t answer, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, something soft, something almost vulnerable. His usual bravado is gone, replaced with something more… soft? And that only makes it harder for you to concentrate.

As you begin the first stitch, your fingers brush his skin again, the sensation sending a jolt through your body. It’s electric, a little too much for comfort. You can’t help but notice the way his muscles twitch under your touch, the way he holds his breath for a split second. You can tell he’s trying to stay still, but there’s a tension in his body that matches yours.

And then, without thinking, you glance up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since you started.

His gaze doesn’t waver, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s seeing you the same way you’re seeing him. There’s something in the air between you that wasn’t there before, something new, something uncertain maybe.

His eyes linger on your face as you focus on the stitches, but it’s more than that. It’s like he’s watching you work—like he’s studying you, trying to figure out every little detail.

You finish the first stitch, and the tension between you two builds, thickening like a fog. You try to keep your voice steady, but it betrays you. “This isn’t so bad, right? You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?”

Bellamy chuckles softly, his voice low and rough. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

But his words don’t ease the flutter in your stomach. If anything, they only make it worse. You try to ignore the way his eyes are still on you, the way his breathing is a little more erratic now, like he’s fighting the same nerves you’re feeling.

And with the next stitch, you’re hyper-aware of every small shift in his body, every movement, every subtle intake of breath. His skin is warm under your fingers, his muscles tense with the effort of keeping still, and it’s making it damn near impossible to keep your focus.

But before you can let the moment drag on longer than it should, you finish the last stitch and step back, exhaling a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“There. All done,” you say, keeping your tone casual, even though you feel anything but.

Bellamy’s gaze softens, and there’s a hint of something unspoken in the way he looks at you. He sits up a little straighter, the tension between you still lingering in the air. “Thanks,” he says quietly, his voice low. “For everything.”

You nod, swallowing thickly. “No problem. Just don’t make a habit of getting yourself hurt, okay?”

Bellamy gives you a small, sincere smile. “I’ll try my best.”

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And as time went on, Bellamy found himself in your infirmary more and more, and it wasn’t because he was trying to get hurt—it wasn’t like he was actively going out of his way to put himself in harm’s way. But instead of patching himself up or asking Clarke or Octavia to do it, he started seeking you out.

The easy way your hands worked, the quiet focus in your eyes—it drew him in. And even though he tried to convince himself that it was just because you were good at what you did, there was something else there, something deeper.

Every time he walked into the infirmary, he found himself hoping for one thing: to see that small smile of yours, or hear you laugh at one of his stupid jokes.

But no matter how hard he tried, you always kept your distance. You weren’t rude to him—not in the slightest.

In fact, you were professional, efficient, and polite, but there was this invisible wall between you and him.

It was like you were letting him in, but only just enough. You didn’t outright push him away, but you certainly weren’t inviting him in either.

At first, Bellamy tried to brush it off. He told himself maybe you were just focused on your work, or maybe you had a hard time trusting people. But after the third time he found himself in that damn infirmary, the same uneasy feeling crept up on him again.

What was it about him that made you keep your distance?

One day you stepped out to get something from the back, leaving Bellamy alone with Clarke (Who was in the infirmary taking inventory) Clarke was watched him with a knowing look in her eyes. And Bellamy shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, trying to pretend like it was nothing. But Clarke wasn’t having it.

“So,” she said, her voice light but carrying an edge, “How many times have you been in here lately, Bellamy?”

He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Clarke’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “You’ve been getting injured more often than usual. Funny how that works, huh? What’s going on?”

Bellamy shrugged again. “I’m not trying to get hurt.”

“Oh cut the shit, Bellamy,” Clarke interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “You like her.”

His heart stopped for a beat. “What? No I don’t,” he stammered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t ready for this conversation, not with Clarke, of all people. “I’m just—she’s a good medic.”

Clarke raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Then why were you staring at her boobs the whole time?”

Bellamy’s face flushed. “I wasn’t staring at her chest. What the hell are you trying to do, Clarke?”

Clarke smirked. “Nothing. But have you ever thought about why she’s so distant with you?”

Bellamy blinked, the words catching him off guard. He wasn’t expecting Clarke to be so blunt. “What do you mean?”

“She’s heard the things about you, Bellamy,” Clarke said, her voice suddenly softer, more serious. “She’s not stupid. It’s why she’s always so distant with you. She—”

Before Clarke could finish, you walked back into the infirmary, holding a small vial in your hand. Bellamy froze as your presence filled the room, your steps light and easy, like nothing had just been said. You set the item down next to Bellamy with a soft smile that barely brushed your lips.

Clarke straightened up immediately, her eyes narrowing just slightly, like she knew exactly what he was thinking.

Bellamy swallowed, his eyes flickering over to you. Your attention was back on his arm, your focus returning to your expression as you moved. But Bellamy couldn’t ignore the flutter in his chest, or the way his thoughts seemed to race.

Did you really hear those things about him? It wasn’t exactly a secret that he had a reputation, but he’d never thought about how it might affect someone like you.

You finished cleaning the wound and started stitching. Bellamy’s heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, all the words he wanted to say felt locked inside his throat.

His thoughts raced, but before he could even think of something to say, you glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since you’d walked in.

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The countdown to Praimfaya was winding down and the weight of everything was pressing on Bellamy's chest.

He paced in the small room, running his hands through his hair. Octavia was safe here. The bunker was protected, secured. But that didn’t mean the fight was over. Not for him anyway. Raven had radioed asking for help.

“We’re on our way,” Bellamy had responded. Clarke was already gearing up, having heard the news.

The plan? simple. Get to Raven, bring her back here, and get back before Praimfaya.

But just as they were about to leave the safety of the bunker, Bellamy’s thoughts were already racing, something caught his eye.

You.

There you were standing in front of the rover, suited up in full gear with a look of determination on your face.

Bellamy’s eyes narrowed in confusion, his heart skipping a beat as he glanced at you. You never got involved in things like this. You preferred to stay on the sidelines, doing your job in the infirmary, keeping to yourself. But now? You were standing there, only doing God knows what. Bellamy’s instinct was to tell you to get back inside, that this was too risky. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t push you away. He wasn't that close to you.

His brows furrowed as you stepped forward, determination in your eyes. “I’m coming with you,” you said, your voice steady, but there was a fire behind it.

Bellamy opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off before he could say anything.

“I’m going to help save Raven,” you continued, your gaze unwavering. “She means a lot to me and I can’t just sit back and do nothing anymore. I’m done with that.” Bellamy's pulse quickened as you climbed into the rover, settling behind him and Clarke.

Bellamy didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to feel about this. There was a part of him that admired you, admired your bravery, but there was also a part of him that was terrified. Terrified of what might happen to you.

He could barely process the reality of the situation. Why now? Why would you put yourself in danger when you had always stayed behind before? The last thing he wanted was for you to be caught in the crossfire, and yet… here you were. Willing to risk everything to help Raven.

“You’re not supposed to be out here,” Bellamy said softly, his voice laced with concern, even though his words were calm. He could feel the familiar tension in his chest, that tight knot forming whenever he cared too much about someone.

You didn’t meet his eyes, instead focusing on the road ahead, your hands gripping the edge of the rover’s seat. “I’ve been on the sidelines long enough.” You paused for a moment, your voice softer now, but still firm. “I have to do the this. For Raven.”

Bellamy swallowed hard, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He glanced at you again, noticing the subtle tremor in your hands that betrayed the nervousness you were trying to hide.

He nodded once, his jaw tight, but he couldn’t argue with you. Not now, not when you were this determined. “Alright, But stay close. We get in, we get Raven, and we get out.”

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The time between that moment and getting on the Ring felt like a blur. So much had happened in such a short amount of time, it almost felt unreal.

Grounders had ambushed you, hunger and desperation in their eyes as they fought for your gear, but before things could escalate, Echo had appeared, saving you just in time.

Then Clarke, always the hero, had made the ultimate sacrifice. Trading her life for the eight of you, ensuring you all made it out alive.

And then, as if the universe couldn’t be any crueler, Praimfaya hit. The sky itself seemed to break open as the deadly radiation spread across the planet.

You, Raven, and Bellamy stood in the cold, sterile window on the Ring, eyes glued to the devastation below.

Tears blurred your vision as you watched the Earth burn right infront of you. It was as if the world outside had stolen the air from your lungs. All you could do was stare at the destruction, helpless, while the planet you once called home burned before your eyes.

You’d just lost one of your best friends, and now, on top of everything, the Earth was gone, for who knows for how long. The weight of it all was crushing, like the ground had disappeared beneath your feet.

For the first two weeks, you didn’t leave your living quarters. You’d picked it out because it felt like the most private space you could find, and now it felt like a prison.

It wasn’t just the grief of losing Clarke, that deep ache that wouldn’t go away—but the fact that the planet you once called home was destroyed.

Everything that had been beautiful, the forests, the oceans…it was all gone. And you had no idea what was left, if anything. The Earth, your Earth, was just… ruined. Gone.

You spent those days in a daze, not knowing how to process it all. You’d stare out the window, watching the stars, your thoughts swirling between Clarke’s sacrifice and the silent emptiness left behind. It was hard to breathe sometimes, the grief so thick in your chest.

You didn’t talk to anyone much during those two weeks, just letting yourself feel everything—the anger, sadness—loss. You didn’t even try to stop the tears when they came.

You let yourself fall apart a little, because honestly, what else was there to do? You couldn’t hold it all in, not after everything that had happened.

But then Raven was there, as she always had been.

She’d come by to check on you, sometimes just sitting with you in silence while you cried. Other times, she cried with you. It was raw, unspoken, but it helped. Her presence was enough to make you feel a little less alone in the heavy mess of emotions you were fighting through.

But what you hadn’t expected was Bellamy. He wasn’t someone you thought would come knocking at your door, especially not now, but he did.

Every day, almost without fail. He’d bring food, not that you could stomach much, but the gesture meant something. He’d knock softly on your door, wait a second, then walk in with his usual look of concern that you were getting way too used to. You hadn’t realized how much you needed that until it happened. Someone just…showing up.

Bellamy was the reason you started to feel a little better, even though you didn’t have the energy to tell him that.

He’d sit with you while you picked at food, sometimes talking about nothing, sometimes giving you space when you needed it. Slowly, the weight on your chest eased just a little. It wasn’t gone—God, it would never be gone, but with Bellamy and Raven around, it was like the grief wasn’t as suffocating. You could breathe a little more easily and you didn’t realize it at the time, but they were pulling you back from the edge.

Slowly, you started to get out of your room more, the walls that had felt so suffocating now just a little less imposing.

The rest of the group, Bellamy, Raven, Murphy, Emory, Harper, Monty, and even Echo, had become like family to you. It wasn’t something you expected, but after everything, you found yourself relying on them in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

At first, you’d start by helping with small tasks around the Ring—checking the supply levels, making sure everyone had what they needed. It was hard to ignore the weight of the grief that still clung to you, but the distractions helped, even if only for a little while.

Raven and Monty would often work together to run diagnostics on the ship’s systems, and you’d end up helping, learning bits and pieces about how the Ring worked. Raven would throw in some sarcastic quips as she worked, making you laugh even when you didn’t feel like it, while Monty would get all excited about tech stuff.

Murphy, surprisingly, had become someone you actually enjoyed spending time with. He didn’t talk much about the past, but when he did, it was dry and honest. You found yourself sharing a few moments of understanding with him. He’d sometimes hand you a drink and you’d end up swapping stories about your old lives on Earth.

Emory and Harper were always off in their own corner, tending to whatever farming needs arose. You’d spent time with them learning how to help.

And Echo… well, she had her own way of showing care. It was indirect, but she would leave you small things—little notes or objects that made you smile. She didn’t say much, but her actions spoke volumes, and over time, you grew to appreciate her presence more than you’d ever thought you would.

But through it all, Bellamy had been there in ways no one else had. His presence had a calm to it that made you feel safe, and over time, you found yourselves growing closer in ways that were hard to ignore.

You’d started helping him. Like checking the air filtration systems and taking inventory. Those moments alone with him, when it was just the two of you working side by side, made you feel things you didn’t want to feel but couldn’t help.

It was subtle at first—small gestures like him tossing you a spare jacket when the Ring’s temperature fluctuated, or that soft, quiet way he’d say your name when asking for help. You’d catch him glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking, his gaze lingering a little longer than it should have.

The moments grew, and it became more obvious that whatever had been there between you before, had deepened. When he would make you laugh, there was a softness in his eyes you hadn’t noticed before.

The teasing, the sarcastic jokes, the way you’d end up in small, quiet conversations that stretched long into the night. They all started to mean something more.

There were moments where Bellamy and you would sit together and talk about things that had nothing to do with the Ring or survival. It felt normal, like you were just two people getting to know each other, not just two people trying to survive.

One night, you found yourselves sitting side by side in one of the hallways, a bottle of liquor the group had found weeks ago between you. The alcohol was warm and rough, but it did the job. You were both a little buzzed, just enough to make you feel loose, to let your guard down.

And Bellamy leaned back against the wall, his gaze drifting out the window as you both watched the stars. There was something peaceful about the silence that stretched between you, the only sound being the occasional creak of the Ring’s structure.

“You ever think about Earth?” Bellamy asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Every damn day,” you replied, voice thick with emotion. “I miss the way it smelled… the grass, the rain. It almost didn't feel real. Like a dream.”

He nodded, his expression soft, thoughtful. “Yeah. I miss the little things, too. The stuff you take for granted.”

You didn’t expect the conversation to turn this way, but here it was, the two of you talking like you weren’t on the edge of survival. It felt… real.

After a moment of quiet, you shifted, setting the bottle between you. “I never really thought I’d get along with you, you know?” The words slipped out before you could stop them. You weren’t sure why you said it, but it felt like it needed to be said.

Bellamy tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?” he asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “I didn’t know I had that effect on people.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tension between you was different now—lighter, almost. “No, it’s not that. I just heard things. About you. And… well, I didn’t want to get caught up in it.”

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “What kind of things?”

You hesitated for a moment, then sighed, picking at the edge of your sleeve. “You know, the usual,” you said, your voice a little sheepish. “That you had a temper, you were cocky, arrogant… and that you thought you could sleep with any girl you wanted.”

Bellamy snorted, the laugh escaping before he could catch it. “Well, first part isn't exactly wrong, is it?” he said with a crooked grin.

You shot him a look, half exasperated, half amused. “And I always thought, with you being in charge, that you’d never even look my way. I mean, I’m just some medic, right?”

Bellamy’s expression softened as he turned his gaze back to you. “First off, you’re a damn good medic,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. “I’ve seen you work, and trust me, that’s not something I take lightly.”

You blinked at him, a little taken aback by his praise. “I—thanks,” you muttered, caught off guard by his honesty. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Well, you should,” Bellamy replied, his usual confidence coming back in waves. He leaned back against the wall, tapping the bottle lightly against his knee. “But as for the rumors… Some of them are true.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but Bellamy just shrugged, as if it was nothing. “I do have a temper sometimes. Can’t deny that. And yeah, I’m a little cocky. Comes with the job.” He gave you a pointed look, but his tone was lighter now, like he wasn’t taking himself too seriously. “I don’t try to sleep with every girl, though.”

He didn’t say anything after that, and for a moment, there was a silence that hung between you. Bellamy’s gaze drifted, his eyes momentarily unfocused as if he was deep in thought. His lips pressed together, and you could feel the shift in the air.

In that silence, Bellamy’s mind raced. He didn’t want to be the guy everyone assumed he was—but he had to be. To survive. Earth wasn't for the weak.

But sitting here with you, hearing you open up to him like this, was different. It felt real. He was different around you.

But, damn, he had wanted more for a while now. He’d always wanted to be more than just the guy in charge, the one who made the tough decisions. With you, he felt like he could just be himself. And that made it harder to hold back.

He wasn’t going to rush it. He couldn’t. You’d only just started to open up to him, and he didn’t want to ruin it. The last thing he needed was to complicate things when you were just beginning to trust him.

He shifted in his spot, trying to push the thoughts away, but the fact was, the only girl he wanted in this world was sitting right next to him.

He felt a tightening in his chest, but he wasn’t about to let it ruin everything. Not yet. Not when it felt like you two were finally starting to understand each other.

Bellamy cleared his throat, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “You know,” he began, his words soft, “I’ve always noticed you.”

You raised an eyebrow, a little confused. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back slightly, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as he collected his thoughts. “Sure, I’ve been busy—keeping the camp together, making sure everyone stays alive. But, even with all that, I’ve always wanted to get to know you better. I’ve always seen you there, doing your thing, helping out. I just… never really got the chance to talk to you.”

You were silent for a moment, processing his words. He seemed so sincere. It wasn’t something Bellamy often showed to just anyone.

“I get it, though,” he continued, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I know why you avoided me. I’ve been… a lot to deal with, and I know people talk. But it doesn’t bother me that you kept your distance. Honestly, I get it.”

His eyes flicked to you, meeting yours with an understanding that made your chest tighten. “But I’m glad we’re talking now,” he added, his tone just a little warmer. “Glad we’re getting to know each other.”

You swallowed, your heart unexpectedly racing. “I shouldn’t have avoided you,” you said, your voice coming out a little softer than you meant. “I shouldn’t have let rumors and what other people said get in the way. I should’ve just… tried to be friends with you from the start. Because you’re… you’re a really good person, Bellamy. So much different than I ever thought.”

Bellamy’s gaze softened as he listened, and you could see it in his eyes, the way he was hanging on every word you said. He wasn’t just hearing you; he was feeling it too.

“You’re nothing like the guy I thought I knew from the rumors,” you went on, your words flowing a little easier now, like you finally had the chance to let everything out. “You’re smart, and strong, and… you actually care about people. I’ve seen that.”

Bellamy’s chest tightened at your words. He could feel himself getting caught up in the moment, caught up in the way you were looking at him, the way your words seemed to reach into something deeper inside him. His heart started beating faster. He’d always thought you were amazing, strong, intelligent, beautiful—but hearing you say this… it hit him harder than he expected.

His eyes softened, and for the first time in a long while, Bellamy felt exposed. Like he wasn’t just the leader. He wasn’t just the guy who kept everyone alive. In that moment, all he was, was someone who was falling for you.

The silence that followed was different from the others—it wasn’t awkward or strained. But It was calm. Comfortable. And, for a brief moment, neither of you said anything. You just sat there, letting the conversation settle, letting the weight of the moment press gently between you.

Bellamy felt himself falling for you more and more, and for the first time, he didn’t mind it. It wasn’t something he had planned, but it was real, and it felt good. Almost too good.

You, however, were oblivious to the effect your words had on him. You kept going, caught up in the moment, eager to share what had been on your mind for so long.

“You know,” you began, eyes still focused on the window, “I’ve seen how you protect Octavia. It’s something else. You’re always looking out for her, even when everything’s falling apart. It’s like… she’s your world, right?” You paused, your thoughts spilling out faster now. “And honestly, I don’t know how you do it, leading the camp, dealing with the Grounders, all of that. I’d lose my mind. I mean, you’re always so level-headed, and you keep it together, no matter what happens. It’s like you’re carrying the weight of everyone else’s survival on your shoulders, and I… I don’t even know how you deal with that.”

You felt the words rushing out, as if they couldn’t leave you fast enough. “I can’t imagine having to make those calls, those tough choices. You just… you do it. Without question, and I don’t think anyone realizes how hard it must be for you. You’re not just the leader; you’re the one who carries all of that. You and Clarke.”

As the words spilled from your mouth, you started to realize you were rambling. You felt a heat rise in your cheeks, suddenly self-conscious of everything you’d just said. You quickly shut your mouth, an awkward silence hanging between you, but when you turned to glance at Bellamy, you saw him watching you.

His expression was soft—softer than you had ever seen before. It wasn’t the hardened, stoic leader you were used to.

No, this was Bellamy, the man who was genuinely listening, genuinely understanding. It made your heart skip a beat. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the sight of him looking at you like that.

His eyes flickered down to your lips for just a moment, and your breath caught in your throat.

You saw him lick his bottom lip, and before you could even process it, your body was moving toward his, drawn in like magnets. His gaze was fixed on your lips now, and you couldn’t help but think—this was it.

This was the moment. He was going to kiss you.

But then, in a split second, the moment shattered.

A soccer ball came flying between you two, slamming into the wall with a thud. The sound was jarring, ripping the tension out of the air like a knife. You both jumped back, blinking as if the world had just flipped upside down.

You immediately turned your head, and Bellamy did the same, both of you catching sight of Murphy standing at the end of the hallway. He was grinning, clearly guilty, and his smirk said it all.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Murphy said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You and Bellamy exchanged a quick glance before rolling your eyes in unison. You both sighed in exasperation, and for a brief second, it was as if nothing had changed.

The moment you shared felt like a dream, fading back into the background, only to be replaced by the usual Murphy antics.

“Seriously?” Bellamy muttered, standing up and brushing off his pants, shooting a glare down the hallway.

Murphy sauntered over with zero remorse, spinning the soccer ball on one finger like he hadn’t just shattered the most intense moment of your life. He smirked, eyes flicking between you and Bellamy.

“Damn,” he drawled. “Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever… slow-burn romance was happening over here.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Next time, I’ll knock.”

Your face immediately flushed. “Murphy,” you hissed, eyes wide, hoping the heat in your cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.

But Murphy just grinned wider. “What? You guys were like this close.” He held his fingers together with barely an inch between them. “Another five seconds and I’d be walking in on a PG-13 moment. Or maybe R. Hard to tell with you two.”

Bellamy groaned and ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath, “Unbelievable.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh from sheer embarrassment. “Can you not be the worst for, like, one day?”

Murphy gave you a mock salute. “No promises, doc. Carry on with your emotionally repressed bonding or whatever.”

As he disappeared down the hallway, whistling, you turned to Bellamy, still mortified. “I want to melt into the floor.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything right away—he just looked at you with that same softness from before, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “For the record,” he said quietly, “it wasn’t a bad moment.”

You blinked, heart skipping. “Yeah…”

The word hung in the air, soft and uncertain. You stood slowly, brushing invisible dust from your pants just to have something to do with your hands. “I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you added, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bellamy gave a short nod, standing too, though neither of you moved for a second. The weight of the almost-moment still buzzed between you. But neither of you crossed the line again.

“Night,” you said, forcing a small smile before slipping away down the hallway, your pulse still racing.

──────────────────────

That night changed something. Even though nothing happened, it felt like something did. Like something had cracked open, quietly, and neither of you had quite figured out what to do with it.

But now it was year three.

Three years of space, stars, and rationed coffee. Three years of making a new life on the Ring with the same faces and recycled air. Three years of Bellamy becoming your best friend.

That night you almost kissed? It never got mentioned again. But it was always there, unspoken, a ghost that lingered in the way you sat close when you didn’t have to, in the way he remembered how you liked your tea, or how you always sought him out first when something went wrong.

You wanted him—God, you wanted him—but the fear of ruining whatever this was kept your mouth shut.

Things had gone back to normal after that night, at least on the surface. Except now, “normal” meant brushing shoulders in the hallway and pretending you didn’t feel the burn, sneaking glances when you thought the other wasn’t looking, and feeling that ache every time he smiled at you like you were the only person in the galaxy.

Everyone else had noticed too. Especially Murphy.

You were on the other side of the room, half-distracted while organizing a few medical supplies on the counter, sleeves pushed up, hair pulled back, face soft with focus. Bellamy’s eyes flicked to you without thinking—like they always did.

He didn’t notice Murphy sidle up beside him until he heard that smug, knowing voice. “You ever gonna make a move, or are you just gonna keep staring at her like a damn puppy?”

Bellamy didn’t even glance at him. “Shut up, Murphy.”

Murphy huffed a laugh and leaned against the table, arms crossed, gaze trailing to you. “I’m serious, man. If I were you, I’d get on that. Fast. Girl like that? She won’t stay single forever.”

Bellamy’s jaw clenched. Who would she possibly get with? There's only eight of them up in space? Monty and Harper are together. Murphy and Emori are together. So that only leaves him, Raven, and Echo.

Murphy, clearly enjoying himself, didn’t stop. “Actually…” He tilted his head, like the thought just came to him. “I think Echo’s got a bit of a crush.”

That got Bellamy’s attention. His eyes narrowed, lips parting as he turned to face Murphy fully. “What?”

Murphy grinned like a kid with a lighter and a can of hairspray. “You didn’t notice? The way she looks at her. Always offering to help her with stuff. It’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Bellamy furrowed his brows, glancing at you again. Echo had been around you more lately. Always standing a little closer than necessary. Always talking to you in that quiet, deliberate way. His stomach twisted, but not with fear, but with something sharper. Possessive. Irritated.

Murphy clocked it instantly. “Huh,” he said, drawing the word out with a shit-eating grin. “Maybe Echo’ll get to her first.”

Bellamy shot him a look that could kill. But Murphy wasn’t done. His smirk deepened, eyes flicking toward you before leaning in a little closer. “I mean… Echo’d probably take real good care of her. Might even make her forget all about you.”

Bellamy’s jaw clenched so tight, it hurt. His fists curled under the table, nails biting into his palms. He didn’t answer—wouldn’t give Murphy the satisfaction.

But the asshole just kept going. “She’s got that thing about her, doesn’t she? That quiet kind of charm. All that sweetness. Bet she’s the kind that holds your hand first, then ruins you in the best way.”

Bellamy’s head snapped toward him, fire behind his eyes. “Murphy—”

Murphy just shrugged with a devilish grin. “What? I’m just saying, someone’s gonna snatch her up eventually. If you’re not careful, might not be you.”

Bellamy took a breath. In and out. Just in time because then you were back, walking over with that soft smile that always made him feel like gravity had shifted slightly beneath his feet. You dropped into the seat next to him, completely unaware of the conversation that had just taken place.

“Hey,” you said, nudging his arm lightly. “You wanna do a movie night tonight? Just us?”

Bellamy blinked, all that tension in his shoulders bleeding out as he turned to look at you. Your eyes were hopeful and excited.

God, you had no idea what you did to him. He swallowed and gave you a small, warm nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

Your smile lit up your whole damn face. “Awesome. I’ll see you tonight then—I’ve got inventory duty for a bit.” And then you were up and off again, already moving down the hall with a small skip in your step. Bellamy watched you go, something soft tugging behind his ribs.

But then his gaze snapped back to Murphy, who was still sitting there, smug as ever. “Movie night, huh?” Murphy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You better make that move, dude. Please, for the love of God—make a move.”

Bellamy narrowed his eyes, but Murphy was already standing, gathering his tray. “Oh, and just… keep it down tonight, yeah?” Murphy added with a wink. “My room’s just down the hall.”

Bellamy didn’t say anything. But if looks could kill, Murphy would’ve dropped dead five minutes ago.

──────────────────────

Bellamy knocked softly on your door before letting himself in, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “You ready for this movie night, or what?” His voice had that familiar cocky edge to it, but there was a softness underneath it, like he was trying to mask the fact that he was actually a little nervous.

You flashed him a grin as you kicked the blankets back, making room for him on the bed. “Yeah!” You patted the spot beside you, and without thinking, Bellamy settled down next to you, his body warmth immediately seeping into yours. The bed was a little too small for both of you, but it felt comfortable. Safe, even.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on an elbow as you stretched out beside him, settling your head comfortably on his chest.

He could feel the gentle rise and fall of your breathing as you relaxed, your arm resting across his stomach. The faintest hint of your shampoo lingered in the air, a quiet reminder that you were here, in this space, together.

Bellamy’s mind raced as the opening credits rolled. He was trying to focus on the movie, but all he could think about was the steady warmth of your body against his, the way you fit so perfectly in his arms.

He had spent so long fighting this. Fighting the pull between you two, telling himself it was just a friendship. That the two of you could never be anything more.

But tonight…everything felt different. His heart thudded in his chest, the tension building slowly with every beat. He couldn’t help but steal glances at your face, the way the light from the screen danced across your features, softening your expression.

He wanted so badly to just say something. To reach for the words that had been trapped in his throat for months. But what if he ruined this? What if everything fell apart the moment he told you how he felt?

You shifted slightly, glancing up at him. Your eyes met his, and for a split second, time seemed to stop. There was something in the way you looked at him. Something that made his chest tighten.

“Bell…” you murmured, voice soft, almost hesitant. “Are you alright? You’re being extra quiet tonight.”

He swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to pull away, to make the joke that would push all of this aside. But he couldn’t do it. Not tonight. Not when it felt like everything was about to shift.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice just a little rougher than usual. “Just… thinking.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing the shift. “About what?”

He hesitated, unsure how to explain the flood of emotions he was feeling. His thoughts had been swirling in his mind for weeks, months, years even. How every time you laughed, every time you made him smile, it felt like something more was building between the two of you.

The connection was undeniable, but he’d kept pushing it away, convincing himself it wasn’t the right time. He couldn’t mess this up, not when everything between you was finally feeling right.

But as the night went on and the movie played softly in the background, Bellamy couldn’t ignore the tug in his chest.

The way you were curled up against him, your breathing steady as you nuzzled into his side, made his heart thrum with a quiet intensity. You’d always been close, but tonight something felt different. It was like the air itself had thickened between you two, charged with something he couldn’t define but knew he didn’t want to lose.

You, however, seemed blissfully unaware of his internal battle. You just sighed softly and relaxed further into his side, brushing your cheek against his chest, letting the comfort of his warmth surround you. Bellamy had always been protective, but now? Now, he just wanted to keep you close. Wanted to make sure you were safe and happy, especially when you were so trusting of him.

For a moment, Bellamy thought you might’ve fallen asleep, your breathing slowing. But then, you shifted, lifting your head just enough to look up at him.

And when you did—God. It hit him like a wave.

Those eyes. The ones he’d been stealing glances at for months, never daring to get lost in.

Now, they were focused entirely on him, those big, soft eyes that made his heart race. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, and the whole world seemed to stop. His breath caught in his throat. This was it.

“Bell…” you whispered, your voice soft, uncertain, but your gaze steady. You could feel the shift in the air too.

He opened his mouth to speak, to say something—anything, but the words wouldn’t come. His chest tightened, his throat dry. All he could do was whisper your name in return, a barely audible sound of longing, of fear, of everything building inside him.

You leaned in, ever so slightly, and that was all the invitation Bellamy needed. He was already moving, drawn to you like a magnet, leaning forward with his eyes locked on yours, the distance between you closing.

When your lips finally met, the world seemed to fall away. It was everything Bellamy had imagined and more.

The soft pressure of your lips, the heat that seemed to ignite between you, sending sparks shooting through him. Bellamy melted into the kiss, his hand instinctively cupping your face, the other gently pulling you closer.

You kissed him back with just as much intensity, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart. For a moment, there was nothing else in the universe but the two of you, lost in this perfect, long-awaited moment.

The kiss deepened, a slow, intoxicating pull that neither of you could resist. The tension that had been hanging between you both for years was finally released, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Bellamy could breathe freely, knowing you felt the same.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, you stayed close, your forehead resting against his.

The soft hum of the movie continued in the background, but it didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was this—this moment, this feeling.

Bellamy let out a shaky breath, his thumb gently brushing your cheek as he stared down at you, a small, contented smile on his lips. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he murmured, his voice low, rough with emotion.

You smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of joy and something deeper. “Me too,” you replied, your voice just as soft.

Bellamy couldn’t help but smile back, but it didn’t last long. As if on instinct, his lips were back on yours, this time with more urgency, more passion.

The kiss deepened as he leaned into it, his body pressing against yours. His hand slid to the side of your face, gently cupping it as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss even further.

You responded just as eagerly, your hands moving up to tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. Everything felt electric—every touch, every shift in position, every breath you shared.

Before either of you could pause for a second, Bellamy rolled on top of you, his body caging you in, the weight of him not suffocating but comforting, grounding. He could feel your heart racing beneath him, matching his own, and it made him even more restless.

You let out a small, breathy moan as his lips trailed down to your neck, a sound so soft but so full of need that it drove him insane.

Bellamy froze for a split second, his breath hitching. That sound, that little noise, was everything to him. It was like he was hearing something new, something he could only describe as his. He couldn’t help but smile against your skin, a low, almost possessive chuckle slipping from his lips.

“What was that?” he murmured, his voice rough and laced with desire. The question was teasing, but the truth was, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. That sound was burned into his mind now. His new favorite sound.

You gave a small, almost embarrassed laugh, your hands running down his back, feeling the heat of him through the fabric of his shirt. “Nothing,” you replied, your voice breathless.

But Bellamy wasn’t buying it. He pulled back just enough to look down at you, his eyes dark with a mix of affection and raw hunger. “It didn’t sound like nothing,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours again. The kiss was slow now, soft but filled with intention. “It sounded like…I don’t know, like I could drive you crazy.”

Your heart raced as you felt the weight of his words, but the truth was, he was doing just that. Your chest rose and fell with each breath, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts as you felt yourself being pulled deeper into the moment.

“Bell…” you whimpered, not sure what you were asking for, but needing him to understand how much this meant. How much he meant.

His eyes softened, the playfulness fading for a moment as he looked at you with that familiar, intense gaze. He brushed your hair back from your face and leaned down, kissing you gently, slowly, as if savoring the moment.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against your lips, and you could feel the truth in his words, in the steady way he held you, in how carefully he kissed you, as if you were everything to him.

Because you were.

──────────────────────

You and Bellamy woke up tangled in each other. The night had been intense, filled with everything you both had been holding back. Now, as morning came, you felt the weight of the night before settle around you.

You stretched, your body sore but in a way that felt good. Bellamy was already awake, watching you with a soft smile, his hand brushing your hair out of your face. “Morning,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, still thick with the remnants of last night’s heat.

“Morning,” you whispered back, still feeling the traces of his touch lingering on your skin. Your eyes met, and for a moment, it felt like nothing in the world mattered except the two of you.

After a few quiet moments, you both reluctantly got dressed, each of you trying to maintain a form of normalcy as you headed to breakfast. Bellamy had that smug, satisfied look on his face, and you felt your cheeks flush every time you caught his gaze.

As you walked into the mess hall, the sound of chatter and the smell of food filled the air. Everyone was gathered around, casually eating and talking, when Raven stopped mid-sentence, her eyes flicking between you and Bellamy. “Finally,” she said with a knowing grin, her voice dripping with teasing.

You and Bellamy froze, both of you looking at each other in confusion. What the hell did she mean by that?

But before you could figure it out, Murphy, who had apparently been waiting for this moment—looked up from his plate, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, well, well,” he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “So that’s what all the noise was about last night. Should’ve figured, with all the… excitement echoing down the hall.”

Your eyes widened, the blood rushing to your cheeks. You could feel your body heat up in a way that made you want to sink into the floor.

All the excitement? You hadn’t realized it had been that noticeable.

Bellamy’s face darkened, and his jaw tightened, but Murphy wasn’t done. “Honestly, Bellamy, you’ve been holding out on us,” he continued, his smirk widening. “I was wondering when you two would stop pretending.”

You shot a glance at Bellamy, your face turning bright red and your stomach flipped with embarrassment.

Bellamy, on the other hand, looked between you and Murphy with narrowed eyes. “Shut up, Murphy,” he muttered, clearly trying to keep his cool, but it was clear that Murphy’s words had hit a nerve.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Murphy went on, voice dripping with exaggerated sweetness. “I thought I’d hear more of the usual ‘quiet down’ requests, but, apparently, you two don’t mind an audience.” He winked, and you almost wished you could disappear into your chair. Murphy leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the moment.

You buried your face in your hands for a second, trying to laugh it off, but the embarrassment was too much. Bellamy, however, wasn’t fazed. His pride was written all over his face, and it only made you blush more.

Noticing how flustered you were, Bellamy leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “You’re cute when you blush,” he murmured, his voice low and affectionate.

You felt your heart skip a beat at the simple gesture, and your face burned even more, but before you could say anything, Murphy and Raven both simultaneously let out exaggerated, fake gagging noises.

“Ugh, seriously?” Raven groaned, dramatically clutching her chest. “Now we have to watch you two be all lovey-dovey for the rest of eternity?”

Murphy, grinning like a cat who’d just caught a mouse, chimed in with a sarcastic tone, “Great, just what we needed, more of this. Can you not be all cute and perfect for, like, five seconds?”

Bellamy smirked at them, clearly enjoying the reaction, and you couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good to be teased by your friends, especially with Bellamy by your side, looking more confident than ever.

But then, as the laughter died down, you turned to him, meeting his gaze. It was one of those moments where the world seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you. You couldn’t ignore it any longer, couldn’t pretend that there wasn’t something more between you.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words finally tumbling out, raw and real.

Bellamy’s eyes softened, his expression shifting from playful to serious as he reached out to cup your face gently in his hands. “I love you, too,” he said, his voice steady but filled with so much emotion that it made your heart swell.

The words hung between you two, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. The teasing, the embarrassment, the awkwardness—it all seemed to fade away in the light of the confession, and it was just you and him, finally on the same page.

Murphy and Raven exchanged knowing glances, their smirks widening, but neither of them said anything more. There was nothing left to say. The rest of the world could wait; right now, all that mattered was the quiet truth that you two were together. And that was enough.

author’s note:

hi guys! I hope you enjoyed this one! I’m so sorry my fics for bell are taking awhile. I still love bell but my focus is slowly shifting more towards dean & soldier boy more than anyone else :(

I have about 4-5 more requests to fill for bell so I’m definitely not done writing for him! I’m only just taking a break after the requests so that I can write more of what I want to.

anyways, nonny I hope you enjoyed this one! ❤︎

tags:

@rubydacherry42 @chalametsangel @imsiriuslyreal @dobfavgirl @kimxwinchester @tinas111

If you would like to be tagged please fill out THIS form and I will add you to the list! ❤︎

my works

© maddie0101 do not copy or repost my works without my permission.

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

Could I request a smut with Bellamy Blake? Like him and the reader are trying to get a quickie in before everyone comes back and he tries to make the reader cum one more time? :) if u can ofc!

close call | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season three — you and bellamy take advantage of a moment alone in the rover on a scouting expedition. time is against you when bellamy makes one final request before everyone returns.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings: smut, almost caught, penetration (p in v), oral (fem receiving), quickie, multiple orgasms, cowgirl, idk whether part of this is considered dub-con or not but I’ll still add it just in case

notes: the ending is sort of abrupt but anyways—

word count: 1.8k

The rover was bouncing so vigorously; it was a wonder the axles hadn’t broken under pressure.

“Oh my—fuck! Oh my god!”

It had started off innocent. Two people had to stay behind to guard the rover as a group scouted the forest terrain for new foraging and hunting grounds for Arkadia. Bellamy had offered to stay behind along with you. At first, you both obeyed the instructions to watch over the rover. But, damn, he looked so goodin his tan t-shirt and black cargo pants, you just couldn’t restrain yourself.

First came the flirting, then the wandering hands, and then suddenly you were inside the rover, on the floor in the back, with Bellamy inside you.

Your breasts recoiled up and down, cleavage exposed from the low neckline of your tight tank top as you bounced on Bellamy’s lap, his cock sliding up into you with each drop of your hips. His face was buried between your breasts, sucking harsh kisses into your skin. Fuck, you should have told him to stop; people would see the marks.

But you couldn’t. Especially when he lowered to your sensitive peaked nipple and bit it softly through the material of your shirt.

“Ah, fuck!” you rasped, skin prickling with goosebumps.

Fingers tangled in his dark wavy locks, you guided him back up to your level, frantically catching his lips in a wanton kiss. Your tongues moved together with a hunger of their own, strings of saliva keeping you attached whenever you parted for a sliver of breath.

You sank down fully onto his pelvis and engulfed his entire pulsating length before grinding your hips back and forth at an almost Olympic-level speed, feeling his cock repeatedly curve into your throbbing walls. Something between a whine and a groan of the words “fucking christ” was mumbled against your lips by Bellamy.

His hands held you down by the hips as he began snapping his own hips upward, skin-on-skin sounding as his pelvis slapped against your ass. You grappled onto his broad shoulders as your head fell back with a filthy high-pitched moan which, thankfully, was confined to the rover’s interior.

“So fucking good, princess,” Bellamy breathlessly praised between mind-devastating thrusts. “So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Good.”

His fingers dug harshly into your skin, blunt nails surely creating red crescent indentations in your soft skin. You would wear them like a trophy. He forced your hips down and trapped your body on his cock as his head fell back against the mesh panel wall, soft tip spurting thick white come deep inside your belly. His scrunched brows twitched with release; lips were parted as his shallow breaths gave way to deep sex-drunken moans.

The warm white liquid filled you up, leaking prettily down Bellamy’s thick penetrating length. You were so full of his seed and ever-hard cock that all your body could do in response was orgasm, the heat spreading from your belly and pervading your entire nervous system.

All control was lost. You trembled from head to toe, essentially vibrating on his cock which was still prodding against your cervix. Strangled gasps fell from your lips, your forehead falling against Bellamy’s who had finally managed to regain his composure and was hypnotically watching you work through your own high.

Finally, the both of you reached a state of tranquillity, holding each other closely, panting and inhaling one another’s intoxicating breaths. It was a good thing too—that you finished so quickly.

“The other’s will be back soon,” Bellamy whispered, finishing your thoughts.

You nodded. He pulled your hips forward again and you both made some quiet noise of pleasure, eyes glued on one another and simmering with atmospheric desire. For about ten seconds, you stayed like this—motionless, panting, staring.

And then Bellamy was flipping you over onto the car floor.

He hovered above you, brown eyes pooling with sin, dark strands of hair partially obscuring his vision. You simply looked up at him, wide-eyed and speechless, and obviously, he found your shock amusing, evident from the subtle smirk on his lips.

“Want you to come again before they get back.” He leaned down to leave a hot kiss on your neck, lips tickling your skin as he murmured, “Think you can do that for me?”

You blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

And then he was lowering himself down to your hips and hooking his arms around your thighs. His question wasn’t really demanding an answer—this notion was crystal clear as he abruptly buried his face between your legs and began eating you out like there was no guarantee tomorrow would come.

“Bell!” you cried with a gasped squeak, your back arching off the floor and eyes squeezing shut from overstimulation. “Wait, please, it’s—it’s too mu—” You cut yourself off with a sharp moan and encased his head with your thighs as his lips suctioned around your clit. “Shit! Don’t stop!”

The plea in your voice was useless. Of course he wasn’t going to stop. Not until your thighs were nearly crushing his skull as your taste coated his tongue, dribbled down his chin, and dripped from your pussy in a pretty, perfect glistening mess.

You rose to your elbows, hand reaching down to delve your fingers between his soft wavy locks, alternating between pushing him deeper into your pussy and tugging his hair to coax a groan from his lips which vibrated against your already throbbing clit.

The sounds you made could barely be considered moans, but rather stuttering cries—cries for more, cries to encourage him to keep doing that heavenly thing he was doing with his tongue.

“Right there,” you gasped.

He nodded, humming in compliance. Anything for you; anything to get you to come undone from his manipulation. His biceps flexed as he dragged you closer, hands splayed across your tensed stomach, rubbing and massaging the soft skin.

Tongue wide and flat, he licked an agonisingly slow stripe from hole to clit, beginning to flick his tongue side-to-side once he reached your swollen sensitive nub. God, he had your heart pounding and it felt so exhilarating. The pulsing had dropped into your stomach, each rapid beat building the tension that was tightening your gut.

Your hips rolled mindlessly against his tongue, using him like your own personal sex toy. His eyes were closed, literally drinkingin the fact that he was lapping between your thighs. He enjoyed giving pleasure just as much as you did receiving which made the moment so much more hotter.

Over the sound of your whining and panting, you could hear the distant conversations of people returning. Returning to the rover that Bellamy was currently eating you out in. Fuck.

“Bell.”

“Mm.”

He just kept going. Part of you wanted to ignore the approaching group and continue letting him bring you to your peak, but the other part recognised the embarrassment of potentially being caught in such an… indecent position.

“Bellamy,”you gritted.

The authority in your tone managed to tear him away from your pussy (and made his cock twitch with a drop of come).

He looked up at you through messy strands of hair. “Come for me one more time, princess,” he urged, voice low and husky. “Then I’ll stop.”

His hand kneaded the side of your waist, gaze on yours as he awaited your response. His mouth and chin sheened with your slick—a pretty, perfect glistening mess. How could you deny him when he looked like that? When he was begging to worship your body and set your nerves alight?

The flames licking at your insides began to suffocate, orgasm receding slowly into non-existence. It was all you could do to nod your head. “Make me come.” Your voice was heavy with desperation. “Please.”

Within seconds, he obliged, large veiny hands curling around the base of your thighs and diving back in. If you thought he was quick before, you were in a whole other ballpark when his mouth returned to your clit. Your fluttering eyes rolled back as his head swiftly shook from side to side, the tip of his tongue pressing hard against your sensitive nub.

An orgasm was rocketing inside you, so fast approaching that you felt entirely unprepared for its arrival. The voices outside in the forest were getting closer and so were you. So close you felt like you could reach out and touch the powerful feeling inside your gut. Technically, you could.

Your hands fisted in Bellamy’s hair, fumbling for any sort of tether to the ground because you were certain if you let go, you would shoot off into oblivion. He repeatedly sucked on your clit, swirled tight circles, devoured you like this was his last meal on death row, and then repeated the process.

“Good girl,” Bellamy mumbled into your pussy. “Almost there.”

Eyes squeezed shut, you writhed beneath his hold, hips jerking against your mouth. Your nipples ached with hardness. Your eyes overflowed with hot tears, streaming down the sides of your face. Your whines had turned to borderline screams, begging him “Don’t stop!” and a mixture of senseless profanities.

Your quivering thighs—with the last of their strength—threatened to crush his head as you squeezed around him, finally feeling the white flames inside you burst into a devastating explosion.

“Fuck!”

***********

Side-by-side, you and Bellamy stood outside the rover, fully dressed and watching as the scouting group returned from their minor expedition. Bellamy’s hand, which was resting on your hip, wandered to your ass and softly kneaded it in his palm, causing your body to tense in fear of being seen.

He leaned down far enough for you to catch his quiet words. “Don’t worry, princess,” he said. “I’m the only one who knows what you just did on the floor of that rover.”

Your jaw clenched, eyes remaining on the approaching group. “I’m the only one who knows you begged to make me come on the floor of that rover.”

His response was a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to your back to rub it affectionately. Just before the others reached hearing distance, he added, “And I’d gladly do it again.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, forming a timid smile on your lips.

Raven was the first person you made eye contact with. She subtly gestured to your pants, wearing a semi-proud grin as she nodded in approval. A horrid blush flooded your cheeks and you looked down to see your flier was completely undone. Well… shit.

“Anything happen while we were gone?” Monty asked, carrying a variety of flora samples.

You side-eyed Bellamy, witnessing the slightest smirk quirk on his lips.

He was quick to respond, sounding casual enough to avoid suspicion. “Nothing too interesting.”

You nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, his arm was discretely supporting your weight as your legs were still violently trembling.

[devsblurbs]

Sex Pollen — B . Blake

Summary – Reader and Bellamy have always hated each other, from the moment the ship landed they were constantly at each others throats. Clarke having had enough of it for the evening, sends them away to go cover some more ground outside of the camp. They come across a clearing of some flowers, but they aren’t normal flowers, and the pollen does something to them.

Warnings - 18+ MDNI , smut , unprotected sex , oral ( f received ) , degrading , use of praise , strong language , some angst , choking , biting

Word count - 5.6k

The chilled air of the evening hummed with tension, it hung in the air heavily, like a weight crushing everyone around down into the soil. Y/n and Bellamy stood in the center of their little camp, the campfire’s embers crackling in the background, a soft contrast to their raised voices

Everyone around knew not to get involved or get into the middle of it when they were fighting, it was futile. From the moment they had landed, those two had been at eachothers throats. They couldn’t be around one another for more than a few seconds without some kind of argument following.

She hated the way Bellamy thought he was better than everyone else, and even more so she hated that he was rash and always thought he was right. No one ever really questioned him, except for her. He hated how stubborn she was, how she could never just listen to what he had to say. She always had some sort of snarky remake to fire back, she simply could never leave anything he said alone.

Most of the time Y/n had a fair point, she was more strategic with her plans. She took the little details into consideration, while Bellamy didn’t, but god forbid she try to tell him he’s wrong.

“You think your way is always the right one, don’t you?” Y/n said to him, her fists clenched tightly to her sides.

They had been going for the past half an hour, back and forth about some plan Bellamy had thrown together, and when Y/n caught wind of it, and its recklessness she couldn’t stop herself from saying something to him.

“And you think your plans are any better?” He practically spat out her, his tone laced with annoyance.

She simply laughed, causing a confused expression to quickly flash across his features. probably wondering in his head what the hell she found so funny, as if reading his mind she was quick to answer that question.

“Not that you’d ever admit it, but do you realize how many times me interjecting has saved your ass, or saved the whole camp the trouble of your half assed plan going backwards. You never take the whole picture into consideration!”

God she sure knew how to push his buttons, how dare she stand her and yell at him like that. Right before he could fire back, Clarke, who had been watching silently with crossed arms, finally stepped forward clearly having enough of the two’s screaming match.

“Enough!” Clarke snapped, the two of them turned towards her slightly startled but both still blistering with rage.

“I’m sick and tired of listening to you two screaming at eachother,” She huffed out, “Go out there.” She gestured toward the dense forest beyond the camp, leaving the two to look at her like she was insane.

Y/n scoffed, glaring at Bellamy before returning her gaze to Clarke. “You’ve got to be out of your mind-” Before Y/n could continue, Clarke shut it down, interjecting, “Frankly, I don’t give a shit right now. Just go survey the area, or kill each other, I don’t care which. I’m done listening to your guys bickering for tonight.”

They both weren’t amused by this, but they also knew it wasn’t worth arguing. The faster they left, the faster they could come back and go their separate ways.

Both still simmering with frustration and anger, they grabbed guns and headed for the gates of their little camp, heading out. The silence was tense and eerie as the trees swallowed them whole, not bothering to spare each other a glance, let alone waste air talking.

Bellamy and Y/n trudged through the dense forest, their footsteps crunching against the fallen leaves and snapping twigs, guns slung over both of their shoulders, scowls resting on their faces clearly not amused with the task at hand.The tension between them lingered in the air like a storm cloud though neither had spoken since leaving the camp.

Branches reached out like skeletal fingers, brushing against their arms as the canopy above darkened, and the temperature steadily dropped. They swayed in the light breeze, moving back and forth as to come out and grab onto them. The forest grew quieter, save for the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

Looking around cautiously, her foot tripped over a tree stump, she was quick to catch herself, mumbling under her breath about how this whole thing was stupid. As if she wasn’t already annoyed enough, he just had to speak up.

“Watch your step.” He muttered, much to her dismay breaking the silence that settled over them.

She scoffed but didn’t respond, she wasn’t in the mood for his bullshit, and now too focused on the uneven terrain, now determined not to trip again, she refused to give him another reason to criticize her.

After more trudging through the thick woods, they emerged from the dense eerie trees into a clearing, the sight causing both of them to freeze right in their tracks.

Under the pale glow of the moonlight, the clearing unfolded like something out of a dream– or a nightmare. Hundreds of flowers blanketed the ground, the petals shimmering faintly, glowing almost as the moonlight hit them. They ranged from light blues, to violets, and pinks, their colors shifting with each movement of air hitting them.

The silence was heavier, almost sacred. Even the crickets and birds seemed to have fallen silent, leaving only the soft whisper of the breeze.

“Y/n..” He finally spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft, “What the hell is this place?”

It was clear he was feeling uneasy, nervous almost. A feeling settled into his gut, something telling him that they shouldn’t be there.

She stepped forward more towards the flowers, her boots brushing against the edge of them, “I don’t know.. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He followed closely behind her, as they moved deeper into the clearing the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, a gut wrenching feeling creeping up his spine. Something wasn’t right, this wasn’t natural.

“This doesn’t feel right,” he muttered, the heavy air weighing down his chest.

She crouched down to touch one of the flowers, the petals silky and cold against her slender fingers, but there was something strange about them.

“They look like they’re glowing.” She whispered, staring deeply at them, she was almost mesmerized. She knew they weren't normal, but she wasn’t as skeptical of them as Bellamy was.

His Gaze darted around the clearing, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his knife, “We shouldn’t be here, this place.. It’s not natural.”

She straightened up, her eyes narrowing at him, of course he’d find a way to try to ruin something beautiful.

“You’re paranoid, they’re just flowers. Not everything is out to kill us, Bellamy.”

He simply scoffed, “Really? Because from the moment we’ve landed, a lot of strange shit has happened.”

She went to argue back, but shut her mouth, she couldn’t really argue with that. They’ve run into so many issues, and dangerous things from the moment their feet planted onto the soil. Silence overtook them again, her eyes scanning over the flowers, all shining in the faint glow of the moon casting down from the opening in the trees above them. Her skin raised with goosebumps as the cold air nipped at her.

“I don’t know, they’re strangely beautiful..” She spoke softly, a side of her Bellamy never got to hear, it was foreign to his ears.

The breeze picked up causing her to shiver a bit, the flowers swaying more and more. She watched them move, they almost danced to a silent melody as they moved, it was almost hypnotic. Her usual rough piercing gaze was replaced by one of awe, as she stared at them.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean they aren’t dangerous though.” He said, his eyes still cautiously looking around. Before he could speak again, a gust of wind swept through the clearing, the flowers swayed violently, a stark contrast to the melodic moving they once did, as they moved a shimmering cloud of pollen filled the air around them. The golden particles sparkled in the moonlight, almost like tiny floating stars as it invaded their lungs.

“What the hell..” He was quick to cover his mouth and nose with his arm, in an attempt to not breathe in any more of the pollen.

She staggered backwards a bit, coughing as the pollen swirled around them, it seemed to cling to the air, invasive and inescapable, its presence unerringly warm in the cold of the night.

“Don’t.. breathe it in,” He said between coughs, though it was already far too late for that. The shimmering pollen seemed to settle over everything–the flowers, their clothes, their skin. It lingered in the air for a moment longer before finally disappearing.

She finally straightened up, running her fingers through her hair, and taking deep, but cautious breaths. “What the fuck was that..” She murmured trying to wrap her head around what the hell just transpired.

He doubled over, his hands on his knees, panting slightly, as he attempted to catch his breath, “I have no idea, but that wasn’t normal.”

His heart beat quickly, irregularly the world swaying a bit as he stayed there. When he finally caught his breath and stood up, his skin was covered with a dull sense of pins and needles, a slight bit of sweat dripping down his forehead despite the cold air, glistening in the dull light cast over by the moon.

She didn’t realize that she had been staring, until she looked away, her own body feeling uneasy. Her legs are almost weak, and her heart erratic.

“I feel weird..” She spoke, her voice slightly hoarse, a lump almost lodged in her throat. Bellamy only nodded, his gaze burning into her as she spoke.

Her voice sounded melodic to him, which was a contrast from the usual annoyance he got from it. But right in this moment, it was alluring and it was pulling him in.

His nerves in his body felt like they were igniting, a match catching them on fire, his breaths staggered, his body warm. Her eyes made their way back to his figure, focusing on the way his chest heaved, the way his skin glowed under the light. As much as she wanted to look away, something was stopping her.

“Bell..” She murmured, her lips parted slightly, wiping some of the sweat away from her forehead.

He almost growled at the sound of his name leaving her lips, it sounded so pretty to him, it made his heart race even more if that was possible. The world around him felt so distant, the glow of the flowers blurring into a soft, otherworldly light. The only thing either of them could focus on was the pull–an invisible force drawing them together, insistent, and undeniable.

He didn’t answer, his dark eyes locked onto hers as his chest moved with each ragged breath he took. The usual frustration and anger he held was replaced with something deeper, something almost primal. His body felt like it was no longer his own, every instinct screaming at him to get closer to her.

He took a step forward, and Y/n didn’t move away. Her body mirrored his, leaning closer even as her mind struggled to catch up. As he stood in front of her, and her eyes stared up into his, he snapped.

The tension between them too strong, his hands gripped her arms, his touch firm and desperate as he pulled her to him, chest to chest, his touch on her arms setting her mind into overdrive, her skin on fire with just the slightest touch. Before she could react any further, his lips crashed onto hers, capturing her into a rough and demanding kiss.

She gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively gripping his shirt as her body betrayed her. The heat in both of their veins intensified with every second, and she found herself desperately pressing into him, her own desperation matching his.

The kiss was fierce and unrelenting, a collision of all the bottled up emotions between them. All the anger, all the frustration being taken out with it. The world faded away, leaving only the two of them.

She finally pulled away, almost regretting it, her lips swollen and aching for his as soon as they left.

“Bellamy..” She whispered, her voice shaking slightly.

His forehead was pressed against hers, his breaths heavy and uneven. “I don’t know what's happening,” he admitted, his voice raw, “But I can’t–”

She silenced him by pulling him back down, her lips finding his again with just as much urgency. It was like the pollen from the flowers was messing with them, igniting all the nerves in their bodies and igniting something animalistic. As their lips battled against one another, his hands roamed up her back, until one settled onto the back of her neck pushing her more into him, deepening the kiss, while her hands roamed up his chest, one landing in his hair tugging at it.

He was the one that pulled away this time panting harshly, something dark behind his brown eyes. His eyes bore into hers, his hair disheveled, he was staring at her like she was his prey.

“Y/n..” He groaned out, his voice breaking almost.

His hand moved slowly from the back of her neck to her neck to her face, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Gotta stop.. I keep going, I won't be able to.” He said breathlessly, though he said that, his mind was silently pleading her to tell him to keep going.

Her own body felt the pull between them, it was a relentless force, everything in her yearned for more, screamed at her to pull him back in. She looked up at him with half lidded eyes, “Please don’t..” It came out meekly, like some sort of plea, differently from her usual firecracker persona.

Those words, the way she said them drove him up the wall. The way her lips were swollen, face flushed, how her voice trembled, her thighs pressed together needily. She made it clear that she didn’t want him to stop, so he wasn’t going too.

Bellamy moved his hand from her face to her neck, squeezing roughly, pulling a whine from her lips. He almost groaned at that, the way it sounded leaving her lips was like heaven. He pulled her back in, kissing her just as fiercely as before, this time with no intent of holding back and stopping. The kiss was needy, hungry, fed by the relentless desire that they both had settled into them.

When he finally pulled away, it was to pull her down onto the soft soil, the earth cool against her overheated skin. Before she could complain, his lips were all over her neck, sloppily kissing, and nipping all over. She panted softly, back arching off the ground, her hips brushing against his, bringing a groan past his lips and sending a vibration through her skin. He used one of his hands to push her hips down into the ground, firmly holding her in place. Everything in him screamed to just take her right then and there, but not yet, he wanted to have his fun with her first.

“Patience, love..” His voice was rough and low as he spoke into her ear, her thighs squeezing together in an attempt to feel something, anything. His touch was driving her up the wall, she was filled with need for him, and him alone.

His lips went back to her neck, brushing against all her sensitive spots, but when they hit a particular spot that caused her to squirm under him, he bit down. It sent a jolt of stinging pleasure through her body, causing her to gasp.

“Bell..” She whispered out, need lacing her voice.

He hummed against her skin as he worked his way down to her collar bone, leaving sloppy kisses and purple bruises as he continued down his path, his hands now messing with the hem of her shirt. It wasn’t long before he was sliding it off her body, tossing it somewhere next to them on the ground. He stared at her bare chest under the light of the moon in awe, taking her in.

“So fuckin’ pretty..” His voice barely above a whisper, his eyes scanning over her, her chest rising and falling harshly.

He leaned back down, kissing down her chest, his hands moving to cup her breasts, kneading them between his fingers softly, in almost a teasing manner.

“Bell, please..” She whined out, her hands running through his hair.

This brought a smirk to his lips, hearing her all desperate for him. His lips moved over, his tongue trailing against her nipple, as his fingers played with the other. He took it in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, teeth grazing against the sensitive bud as she whimpered beneath him. He then pulled away rather abruptly, leaving her breathless and almost trembling beneath him. The sudden loss of his touch sent a wave of frustration through her, a soft needy whine escaping her lips, her body arching towards him instinctively.

Her cheeks burned, but the heat pooling in her stomach only grew as he took his time with her. His hands slowly moved down her sides, his calloused fingers grazing over her sensitive skin, sending shivers racing through her body. He looked at her, his eyes darkened with lust, as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pants, tugging them down, before throwing them off to the side. He once again stared in awe, looking at her fully exposed beneath him, his jeans tightening around him. Her hands lifted up, sliding under his shirt wanting to touch him too. He took the hint, sliding his shirt off, letting it join the growing pile of clothes. She bit her lip as her fingers traced over her his skin, his toned body glistening with sweat.

“Like what you see?” He grinned softly as she stared up at him like he was some sort of god.

She hummed, lost in a daze as her eyes trailed over him, too lost in taking him in to realize that he was now kneeling in between her thighs. Her breath hitched slightly as he leaned his face in, his lips brushing against the inner part of her thighs, his broad shoulders keeping her legs apart. His gaze swept over her, and the intensity in his eyes made her squirm beneath him. He kissed her thighs softly at first, peppering them all over, but as he went the kisses got sloppy, needy almost.

“Bellamy–” She started, her voice trembling, but whatever she was about to say was lost in a loud gasp as his teeth sunk into the soft flesh.

The bite wasn’t gentle, it was rough, leaving a sharp sting in its wake. Her hips jerked a sharp whimper escaping her lips as her hands moved to his hair tugging at his messy curls.

He chuckled darkly against her skin, his breath hot as he trailed kisses and bites along the inner part of her thighs, alternating between soft and harsh. Each scrape of his teeth sent a jolt of heat straight to her core, leaving her writhing and breathless. She couldn’t stop herself from squirming, her body reacting to every touch, everybite. Her legs trembled, but his hands kept her firmly in place, his grip strong and unyielding as he pushed her hips into the ground beneath them.

“Stay still.” He growled out, his voice thick with warning, and the sound sent another shiver racing through her.

Her head fell back against the ground, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she tried to obey, but it was an impossible feat. The ache inside her was unbearable, her body desperate for him, wanting nothing but his touch.

“Please..” She whispered, the word slipping out before she could stop it.

He paused, his lips hovering just barely above her skin, his hot breath fanning over her. His eyes trailed up, and his gaze met hers through his messy curls. The smirk that spread across his lips was both infuriating and intoxicating to her.

“So desperate,” He teased, his tone laced with satisfaction, he did this to her, he was making her fall apart with his touch.

She bit her lip again, her cheeks flushing even deeper, sweat coating her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to argue, or to put up a fight, not with the way his touch was driving her up the wall with pleasure.

His lips hovered over her thighs, close enough to where she could feel the heat of his breath, but far enough to drive her crazy. Her body was trembling, every nerve ending screaming for more, her body on fire, craving him more and more with every touch, but he just smirked at her dragging out the moment.

“Bellamy, please,” She whimpered, her voice practically breaking with desperation. Her hips jerked up toward him, but his strong hands held her firmly in place.

“Not good enough,” He murmured, his voice dark and teasing, “Want me to make you feel good hm, Princess? Beg for me then.”

Her eyes were locked onto his, a mixture of frustration and yearning behind them, she clenched her fists, her nails digging into the soil beneath her, her body in overdrive, desperate for any kind of friction. He leaned into her, his lips brushing over the spot where she needed him most, but not quite giving her what she needed. That’s what broke her, her eyes pleading with him.

“Please, Bell,” She begged, her voice breaking with every word she spoke. “I need you, I–” She let out a shuddering breath, her head falling back onto the ground. “Please, just do something, I need you.” Her voice was filled with desperation, as her body ached for more.

His smirk widened, satisfaction glinting in his dark eyes. “That’s more like it,” He muttered,and without another word he gave in.

He lowered his head between her thighs, burying his face in between them, his mouth working against her with skill and intensity that had her crying out. The first touch of his tongue dragging up against her clit sent a jolt of electricity through her body, her back arching off the ground, as her hands tugged at his messy hair. He had barely started, but her body was on fire, her mind clouded over as he finally was giving her what she craved.

“Bell!” She gasped, her voice breaking into a cry as he pressed into her more, his tongue and lips moving in a perfectly deveasting rhythm.

Her nails dug into his scalp, but it only seemed to spur him on further. His grip on her thighs tightened, sure enough that there would be fresh bruises there the next day to accompany the purple marks his lips left everywhere earlier. As he gripped her his tongue swirled and flicked around in ways that made her see stars. The sounds she made were desperate, unrestrained, they only fueled him to push her closer to the edge.

“Taste so fuckin’ good.” He mumbled, as his mouth worked at her, sending the vibrations straight to her core.

Her world narrowed to the feeling of his mouth on her, the heat, the pressure, the overwhelming sensation that was pulling her apart piece by piece. Her cries grew louder, her breaths even more erratic than before as her body tightened and trembled against his every touch.

“Bellamy, I–I can’t–” She stammered, but he was relentless, it only drove him to go faster.

His tongue kept working against her, her cries like a melody to his ears. It wasn't until he slipped two fingers in, that she practically yelled out his name. His fingers working with his mouth in harmony, has her eyes rolling back, a wave of pleasure rolling over her. Her body shook, her fingers tugging at his hair roughly as she fell apart beneath him. The way she gasped his name, raw and unfiltered, sent a jolly of satisfaction through him. He didn’t stop, he didn’t let up, his mouth working relentlessly as he let her ride out her high.

Her vision was hazy as the pleasure overwhelmed her, she couldn’t think, couldn't breathe properly, she could only feel.

Finally, as her body calmed down, and her trembling slowed a bit, he slowed his movements. Pulling out his fingers slowly, pressing one last gentle kiss to her thigh. His face covered in her slick, he licked his fingers, cleaning them off, savoring every last bit of her taste.

He had wasted enough time, he was done holding back now. Satisfied with the way he had her falling apart from just his tongue and his fingers, he stood up for a second, making quick work of pulling his jeans off, throwing them to the side. She couldn’t help the way her eyes roamed over him, even as her body trembled from the aftermath of his mouth. His body glistening with sweat, his large cock out for her to see.

He was back on her in an instant, caging her beneath him, as his weight pressed her into the soft earth. His lips found her neck again, nipping and sucking as his hands roamed her body possessively, making sure to leave no inch untouched. The heat radiating between them was unbearable, the pull was impossible to resist.

“You want this?” He growled against her ear, his voice rough and laced with need. His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending another shivering rushing through her, “Hmm, say it.. Tell me how bad you want me to fuck you.”

She could barely form any words, her breath hitching as his body arched into his, “I do yes..” She managed to stammer out, her voice barely audible.

He clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth, “I don’t think I’m very convinced.”

She groaned out, her hips desperately trying to rub against his, “Please, god, Bell.. I want you to fuck me, please I need you.”

The desperation and need in voice was enough for him, he didn’t bother demanding her try to convince him anymore, truth be told he couldn’t wait any longer. The flowers had them both too far gone, their minds clouded, their bodies screaming for more. He positioned himself, his hands gripping her hips tightly, and without warning, his hips snapped into hers with a force that knocked the air from her lungs.

A sharp cry escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulder as his hips slammed against hers in a rough, relentless rhythm. He set a punishing pace, every movement filled with raw, and unrestrained need.

“Fuck, princess.. Taking me so well, this pussy was made for me.” He groaned out, his pace never faltering as he rocked his hips into hers.

He cursed under his breath as he kept up his pace, his breath hot against her ear as his hands tightened on her hips pulling her closer with each harsh thrust. The sound of her moans and cries along with the sound of their bodies colliding echoed around them, mixing with the faint rustle of the flowers swaying in the breeze. The pollen still hung thick in the air, amplifying every sensation, every touch, they were both mad with lust.

She felt like she was on fire, her body hypersensitive to every thrust of his hips, every sound that drew from his lips, every glance.

His head fell into the crook of her neck, his lips brushing against her skin as he muttered things under his breath, his voice was raw and broken. His rhythm didn't falter, each thrust hitting deeper, harder than the last, as if he couldn’t get enough for her. His body claiming every inch of hers, trapping her beneath him as to say that she was his and his alone.

Her cries only grew louder, her hands grasping and scratching at him as she tried to ground herself. But she couldn’t, it felt too good, he had her screaming out his name in pleasure.

“What is it, pretty girl? Can’t handle me?” He chuckled darkly against her neck,but he didn’t slow his pace, he kept pounding into her like his life depended on it.

The flowers had stripped them of every barrier, every ounce of control, leaving nothing but a primal need. They were lost in eachother, consumed by the heat, the desperation, the overwhelming desire that neither of them could fight.

His soft growls filled her ears, rough and low, as she trembled beneath him, her moans spilling from her lips with no hesitation. Her nails raked along his sweat-slicked back as he drove into her roughly.

“So fuckin’ pretty like this,” He spoke into her ear softly, his voice thick with desire. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, and the way she looked at him– flushed, dazed, completely drunk off his cock alone only fueled the fire raging inside of him more.

“Such a mess for me.” His words dripping with satisfaction as one of his hands slipped up to her neck giving it a squeeze pulling a soft gasp from her lips.

His other hand snaked down, to rub circles on her clit as he kept his pace drilling into her, the added pleasure causing tears to stream down her cheeks, her hands gripping his shoulder even harder in an attempt to anchor herself.

“Bellamy!” She moaned out his name, her voice cracking as her body writhed under him, the mixture of his cock and fingers driving her insane.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her, and his hips snapped against her even harder, his rhythm growing rougher, needier. “You like this huh?” He growled, his breath hot against her neck, “You like when I use you like this? Being a cock drunk slut for me?”

Her head fell back, her lips parted as she let out a strangled cry, the tension inside her building to a breaking point. Her body was on fire, every nerve alight, every sensation heightened. His grip on her neck tightened, his fingers still rubbing circles against her clit. His lips worked against her neck, biting and kissing sloppily, claiming every inch of her.

“You drive me crazy,” He muttered, his voice almost a snarl as he buried himself deeper, his movements becoming more erratic, more sloppy with each thrust, “You always have.”

She could barely process his words, her find too clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her. Her body tightened around him, and she felt herself teetering on the edge, her cries growing louder, more desperate.

“Bell, fuck.. I’m–” She stammered, her hands clutching onto him as the wave built higher, threatening to crash over her at any moment.

“Hm, you wanna cum for me?” He murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice softer now but still filled with just as much urgency, “Go on then, cum on my cock.”

That’s all it took for her to go over the edge, her body convulsing under him as her release ripped through her, leaving her gasping and trembling. He kept going, his fingers still drawing lazy circles, his thrusts getting more and more sloppy as she rode out her high. A few more thrusts and he was burying himself deep inside of her, spilling his seed, and painting her walls, claiming her insides as his. His growls turned into a deep groan as he buried his face in her neck, his body shaking just a bit before collapsing next to her on the ground.

They laid there for a moment, minds still clouded over, chests heaving as they tried to catch their breaths. Their bodies began to cool down, the heat that had consumed them moments ago ebbed away, leaving behind a strange clarity. Slowly, the effects of the pollen wore off, and with it came the crashing weight of reality.

Her eyes darted around, her chest still heaving as she tried to process what had just happened. Her skin felt cooler now, but it didn’t erase the marks of what just happened– the warmth of his hands, the scrape of his teeth, the way he had her coming undone on his cock.

“What the fuck just happend?” She yelped, her voice cracking as she sat up abruptly, clutching all her discarded clothes. She was quick to scramble to put them on, her hands shaking slightly as she tugged her shirt over her head. Her hair was a wild mess, her body covered in purple bruises, her lips swollen, and her face burned with disbelief and embarrassment of what just happened.

Bellamy, still lying beside her, blinked as if coming out of a fog. He propped himself up on his elbows, a mix of shock and confusion fainted his freckled face. His fair was a tangled mess, his chest and shoulders mocked with red scratches left in the wake of her nails. His lips bore the same swollen look, evident of their fevered kisses.

“I–” He started, his voice hoarse. He paused his brow furrowing as he glanced at Y/n who was furiously tying her boots up.

He was quick to follow, grabbing all his clothes and throwing them on, still just as confused.After they were just dressed, they came face to face.

“I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but we’re going to pretend it didn’t.” She spat out, glaring daggers into him. The lust was long gone, replaced by the familiar bitterness she felt for him.

Though he felt the same way, and hated her, he couldn’t shake the fact that he had her stubborn ass falling apart for him.

“I doubt you’ll forget the way I made you feel.” He smirked, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

She flipped him off, “I hate you, Blake.”

He rolled his eyes, “Feelings mutual firecracker.”

[petertingle-yipyip]

LAST NIGHT - BELLAMY BLAKE

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Word Count: 2,355

Summary: (requested) A drinking game with Monty and Co goes a bit too far. Intending to get back to your own tent, you stumble upon Bellamy and some shock revelations.

You hadn’t been on the Ground long yet it seemed like you never left the Ark. You had convinced Raven to let you stowaway with her in her rebuilt pod and now, you were among friends.

Mostly.

The only caveat - other than the alleged war with the Grounders - was Bellamy Blake.

Not quite friends, not quite enemies, but frenemies didn’t work either. It seemed like you two just couldn’t go a day without arguing or damn near punching each other in the mouth. There wasn’t really any reason to it either. He liked to instigate you and your temper had you engaging in the bickering everytime. It had been that way since you had first met, but you had to admit, it was fun for you too.

Once the flares went up and hope was in the air, liquor was being poured into cups across camp. You took a spot with Monty, Jasper, and Harper, and Jasper did not hesitate to fill your little tin cup as much as he could.

Your group started some nonsense drinking game, and you lost count of the drinks or rounds after about four. If anyone asked, you didn’t know who was winning or losing or even the premise of the game anymore. All you knew was that you had drunk way too much way too fast. When the entire forest was spinning around you, you used the bit of logical thought you had left and decided to make your way to your tent.

Harper offered to help you, but the slurring of her words told you that she was about as lucid as you were. You waved her off and reasoned that you could make it on your own since there were walls around camp now. If there was the potential of you wandering into the empty woods, then you would’ve taken her up on the offer, but you’d be fine.

As you were wandering back, you saw Octavia sneaking out. Curious, you tried to follow. You had gotten all of four steps before you tripped over your own feet and landed on your side. You laughed at yourself and rolled to your back, hands flat on your stomach. Maybe you’d just sleep there.

“What are you doing?” Bellamy asked, suddenly standing over you.

“Sleeping.” You answered.

“Oh, shit.” He sighed and you grinned. “Are you drunk?”

“Are you?” You tried to point a finger at him but ended up gesturing to nothing, which made you giggle.

His hand closed around your wrist and he hauled you to your feet, bringing on another round of laughter. He kept a grip on your arm and guided you through camp, despite your dragging feet and nonsense blabbering. He brought you to your tent but you refused to go in.

Surely he had you turned around. Or maybe that was the liquor buzzing in your head. Regardless. you stomped your foot and told him he was wrong. You pointed to a tent three over and said that one was yours. You could see he was trying to stay patient with you but he didn’t sign up to babysit you as a drunk.

“That’s not yours.” He complained and you squinted in suspicion. “That’s Atom’s.”

“I have an innate sense of di-rec-tion.” You pointed out, holding up a finger. “I know where I’m supposed to be.”

“Alright, Magellan.” He laughed slightly and offered you his hand. “Come with me.”

“Oh no you don’t.” You wagged your finger and hiccuped. “I know how that goes. You bring me to your tent, you play the hero, and you think I’ll sleep with you.”

“No, Y/N, I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He sighed.

“Well why not?” You stomped, now offended. “I’ll have you know I’m spectacular.”

“I’m sure you are.” He rolled his eyes slightly and grabbed your wrist. “But I’m not gonna sleep with you when you’re wasted like this, so come with me… Please.”

You gasped dramatically. “Bellamy Blake knows the word ‘please’? I have to-“ Hiccup. “-tell everyone.”

He sighed slightly before he leaned down and looped his other arm around the back of your leg. You made a face to yourself but before you could say anything, he threw you over his shoulders. You squealed and kicked your feet, banging your fists weakly against him.

“Put me down!” You laughed. “Damn you, Bellamy!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, but there was amusement in his voice. He carried you to a tent and dropped you on your feet.

You stumbled when your feet hit the floor and you let yourself drop to the floor. You giggled when you landed and looked up at him. His arms were crossed and his eyebrows were raised, as if he expected you to say something. You huffed and crossed your arms the same way.

“You have, like, the biggest tent.” You looked around his space.

“What’s your point?” He sighed.

You threw your hands to the side which made you wobble slightly. Your eyes went big as you regained your balance before you laughed again. You looked back to Bellamy and he was already looking at you.

“You wanna know something?” You said loudly and crawled over to sit across from him.

“You’re gonna tell me anyway.” He crossed his arms again.

“I like your curly hair.” You said simply and he couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. “You always had it like slicked back on the Ark.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “You thank people for compliments.”

“You’re not usually the compliment type.” He rolled his eyes. “Usually you’re the ‘kicking me in the shin’ type.”

“I could do that too.” You nodded. “But! I will not.”

“Lucky me.”

“Don’t you be mean to me again!” You thrust a finger forward and the sudden movement made you dizzy for a moment. “You’re always mean.”

“Coming from the girl who has a comment everytime I say anything to her?” He commented with a small laugh.

“Because you’re mean.” You glared. “But you’re pretty, so it’s a give and take I guess.” You shrugged.

“Jesus, Y/N.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “How much did you drink tonight?”

“I don’t like your tone, Blake!”

“And I don’t really care.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” You changed the subject. You couldn’t quite remember how much you had.

“What do you mean?” He cocked his head.

“You’re mean to me.” You frowned and counted off your statements. “You don’t laugh at my jokes. You never let me do things. You used to make fun of me on the Ark and that’s why I kick your stupid shins. You always give me that look.”

“What look?”

“That look! Like you’re trying to make me spontaneously combust.”

He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, I never said I didn’t like you.”

“But you’re mean.” You pouted.

He knelt down in front of you and you pursed your bottom lip.

“I’m gonna tell you this now, because you probably won’t remember it in the morning.” He said quietly, like it was a secret.

You leaned in, reaching for him to keep your steady. He caught your hands and you felt a sobering heat on your cheeks.

“I do like you, Y/N.” He said, wide eyes and a small smile. “It started as a crush when we were kids and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about you, looking for you in the crowds and trying to find an excuse to talk to you.”

“No way.” You whispered.

“I know.” His smile drew a little wider. “I never meant to be mean.”

“You’re not that mean.” You shrugged. “Let’s just say it was banter.”

“Banter.” He repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, alright.”

“Like in those books!” You announced. “Where they act like they hate each other but they’re actually madly in love.”

“Let’s go with that then.” He nodded, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Do you want me to walk you to your tent?”

“I don’t think I could make it back to my tent.” You confessed before a fit of giggles. “I feel like I’m gonna fall over as soon as I get up.”

“What happened to that innate sense of direction?” He asked as he helped you to your feet.

You shrugged. “It seems to have left me.”

“Or you never had it.”

“I still have a foot and you still have shins.” You warned, though the slurring of your words left them without any threat. “Just cause I like you doesn’t mean I won’t kick the hell outta you. It’s called duality.”

He shook his head and helped you shuffle across the tent. Carefully, you two laid down and you felt the world shift as you did so. You made a noise, something like the joking sound of a ghost, and slammed a hand to the blankets. Bellamy’s hand closed over yours and you looked over at him. You broke into a grin and he returned the smile, not as wide as yours but an honest smile.

You shifted over and put your head against his shoulder. He adjusted his arm so it was draped over your chest and you two just laid there for a while. You continued to talk, about anything and everything. A butterfly you saw earlier that day. A conversation you had with Octavia. What you remembered from your earlier drinking game. Before you knew it, you were drifting off to sleep.

And for the first time since you stepped foot on the ground, you truly felt safe.

When you woke up, you had no idea how late into the day it was. Bellamy was still beside you, so you doubted it was that late. Your head pounded as you pushed yourself to sit up and glanced around.

Your brows furrowed as you realized you weren’t in your own tent.

You slapped a hand over your mouth when you realized. You peeked over your shoulder again and it sunk in that you weren’t in your tent. You were in Bellamy’s.

You muttered to yourself in panic as you got up quickly. Your clothes were which both left you relieved and oddly disappointed. At least he didn’t try to hook up with you when you were drunk, but being drunk might’ve been the only way you’d be confident enough to sleep with him.

You snuck a glance outside the tent and saw there weren’t many people around. With a sigh of relief, you stepped out and immediately winced at the brightness of the sun.

“Hello Sleeping Beauty!” Jasper yelled from basically across camp and you cringed as more heads turned in your direction.

You hurried over and whacked him on the arm.

“Ow! What was that for?” He complained.

“For making people stare at me!” You hissed.

“What difference does it make?” He laughed. “Oh, I see. You don’t want people to see you coming out of Bellamy’s tent.”

“Shut up!”

“Why? You didn’t have any problems going into Bellamy’s tent last night.”

“Jasper, I swear I will kill you!”

He laughed and threw his arm over your shoulders. “But seriously, Y/N/N. Yesterday you were ready to tear his head off, now you’re tearing his clothes off.”

You elbowed him in the ribs.

“Lay off, Jasper.” Bellamy said, suddenly at your side.

You stiffened for a moment before you hid your face in your hands. You complained to yourself, ignoring whatever the boys were saying around you, and wished to disappear. You peeked between your fingers and saw Jasper leave. Hoping Bellamy left too, you dropped your hands.

You were wrong.

“You feel okay?” Bellamy asked.

“Mortified, actually.” You answered. “But I didn’t kill my liver last night, just a headache. I’m fine, thanks…”

He gestured for you to follow and hesitantly, you did.

“You were pretty drunk last night.” He began as you fell into stride with him.

“Well aware, thank you.” You rolled your eyes. “I do appreciate you not leaving me on the ground. Can’t say I would’ve done the same for you, but…” You shrugged.

Bellamy laughed slightly.

“What?” You asked quickly.

“You don’t remember what you said last night, do you?” He smiled at you.

You were so taken aback by it, the true delight and shine of his smile, that you tripped over your own feet. You landed on your back and groaned, more in embarrassment than anything. Bellamy knelt beside you with an amused smirk and you threw your arms over your face.

“Kill me now.” You groaned. “What did I say last night?”

You wished you could melt into the floor.

“That you’re madly in love with me.”

You could hear the smile he still wore. You sat up quickly and nearly collided with him.

“I did not say that.” You defended quickly. You may not remember much of the night before but you sure as hell would’ve remembered saying that.

“I know, I was shocked. And then you said you just had to have me. You were pretty persistent.”

You squinted in suspicion but he feigned innocence.

“It’s true.” He shrugged.

You kicked his arm since you couldn’t reach his shins, but he just laughed.

“It’s alright, though. Wanna know why?” He smirked.

“Go on and enlighten me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Cause I might be madly in love with you too.”

“Might?” You raised your eyebrows. “So you just let any girl you might be in love with sleep with you?”

“Hey now. You tell people we slept together, they might get the wrong idea.” He offered you a hand to help you to your feet.

“Oh, please.” You scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than a few drinks and those pretty curls to get me in bed with you.”

His hands were suddenly on your waist and he pulled you flush against him.

“Worked last night.” He shrugged.

“Beginner’s luck.” You rolled your eyes. “Bet it won’t happen again.”

“You’re on.”

“And when I win?”

“When I win, you’ll be in my bed. If you win, I’ll be in yours.”

[loppsided]

b. blake as your boyfriend

summary: dating bellamy blake headcanons!

pairing: bellamy blake x fem!reader

wc: 387

warnings: none

a/n: omg!! im sooo sorry for not posting. these last few months have been so hectic for me. im going to write a few fics to hold down for a few days. i will try my hardest to get to requests. reblogs and likes appreciated.

you were one of the 100, being the unofficial official second in command behind clarke

you were a fighter, taught by trikru

at first you thought bellamy was a total ass, screwing things up for everybody because he was scared of jaha coming down to earth

you two argued all the time, challenging each others authorities

you never saw eye to eye but that all changed when he finally starting acting like a good person

you two got closer due to you both helping clarke make decisions for the group

going on hunting parties or scavenge missions together and talking about everything

him opening up to you about his mother, how she taught him about greek mythology and how much he cares about octavia

spending time together in arkadia even when your not doing anything

it took awhile for you to confess to each other since your both so stubborn

you had taken a horse without telling anyone, trying to blow off some steam when warriors from azgeda attacked you

when bellamy saw you walking back into arkadia bleeding and wounded he almost lost his mind

"you could've been killed! how could you be so stupid"

"your not the boss of me, i can handle myself, why do you even care."

"because i love you!"

or something like that, really out of the blue and in the heat of the moment

you two had your first kiss that night

cleaning each others wounds after battles

him always having his eye on you because hes scared to lose you

would literally die to protect you

protective and sometimes overbearing to the point you have to remind him you're a warrior

practicing combat together, always joking around while doing so

100% the jealous type always giving dudes side eyes when they look at you for too long

checking up on each other too see how the others doing mentally since something stressful is always going on

you admiring how adamant he is on making things right and being a good person

making out every time you two are alone

not the biggest on pda but will show affection before he goes on a scavenge

puts you first no matter what, always making sure your safe

very thoughtful boyfriend putting your needs before his because he loves you so much

[ervotica]

Okay okay okay so for the celebration, Bellamy with crybaby!reader who maybe gets sick after eating those berries in season 1 and he's just doting on her and being all sweet 🥺🥺

bellamy blake x crybaby!reader ✩ i made him a lil mean n teasing but it’s all in good fun

Bellamy scrapes his palms over your temples, slicking back the flyaway hairs that curl over your ears as you flit your head from side to side, eyes wide and glossy. He may not be able to see the hallucinations that plague your mind, but your frantic expression is enough to have him crouching next to you, dragging his hands over your skin as you sniffle and cry in that warbling voice.

“Baby,” he murmurs. “Slow down.”

Your hands tremble as you hiccup and rock on the balls of your feet, digging soft fingertips into the earth beneath you.

“Can’t-” you gasp. “Too much.”

Bellamy’s brow creases with a frown, and he hooks his hands under your armpits to drag you upward, his chest pressed to yours.

“Easy,” he coos. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

You hiccup, ducking your head. He follows your watery gaze diligently, petting the top of your head.

“I’m sorry,” you warble, pursing your lips around a sob. “I’m sorry.”

Your pupils are blown wide, no doubt another effect of the jobi nuts, your body almost bursting at the seams with untethered energy.

“Baby.” Bellamy tries not to laugh, he really does, but the way you’re surveying him like he’s grown two heads is a little funny.

You purl sadly; your idea of a scolding, though far too soft.

“Don’t laugh, Bell,” you cry, moonlit tears making headway down your cheeks. He tuts, gathering the wetness at the corners of your eyes to brush them away.

“I’m not,” he huffs, though the tilt of his lips gives him away. You tip back into the dirt with a thud, palms out behind you as you stare up at the star dotted sky.

“Y’are,” you mewl.

He sighs, tilting his head to watch you. “Stop being a baby.”

That really sets you off. You sniff, rubbing at your eyes as though you can plug the steady flow of tears. “You’re so mean!”

Hooking his arm under your knees, he drapes you over his lap, your expression rather akin to a kicked puppy. “I’m sorry,” he snorts, chest shaking with a laugh. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Hate you,” you sniffle. He pouts, leaning down to smear a kiss over your jaw.

“I love you too, my baby,” he murmurs, voice rough and grating against your skin. You lean into him involuntarily.

“Don’t feel good,” you grouse, going soft and pliable in his lap. Your head bumps against his chest with a thud.

“I know.” He smooths his hand over your head again, snickering as you go limp at the touch. “You wanna lay down?”

“No,” you whine.

“Yes, you do,” he corrects. “C’mon.”

“Bell.”

He mimics your warbling cadence beat for beat, bending at the waist to murmur soft apologies against your cheek. You lean into him, clutching the hem of his t-shirt as though his touch might make your vision stop spinning.

Camp is full of delinquents in similar situations to your own, many lying in the dirt next to you, a few stumbling in pursuit of the visions that pervade their senses. You sniff sadly.

Bellamy gathers you up and squeezes you tightly, lips pressed firmly over your temple. “It’ll pass soon.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, baby. Promise,” he mumbles, breath hot against your face.

“Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs. “Love you too, brat.”

[misscherry-26]

I saw you were taking requests for Bellamy Blake and I haddd to send one in!! Could you please write a lil spice fic, where they’re in the woods and get in a fight or sum n he js suddenly kissss her. Thank you twin!!

Unspoken Feelings

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x Reader

Author's Note: Hi!!! Thank you so much for this!! My first request for Bellamy Blake. Oh the things I felt while working on this...👀 By the way I had to make a few changes, this is my most polished draft, haha. I'm so excited to share it, though I don't know how good I did with the spicy. I hope you like it!! Thank you for requesting. ❤️

There could be grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

He really thinks he’s the leader, the king of the earth. Self-centered egoist of a man. He can go fuck himself. You think as you walk through the woods in search of the plant that Clarke needs for Finn, who was attached by the grounder that kidnapped Octavia.

They managed to get him to the ship, but now he was struggling for his life. The problem was that the knife he was stabbed with was infected. Bellamy and his group got the grounder and tortured him to get information. Of course he refused to give it, that until Octavia threatened him to harm herself with the poisoned knife. Finn would live, but Clark needed more medicinal plants for him.

But of course, Bellamy Blake had to give his ultimatum that no one would leave the camp, no after realizing that you aren’t the only survivors of earth. He could care less about saving people, but you for sure didn’t. You don’t know Finn completely but, he deserves to live.

Since the ship landed on Earth, You and Bellamy have been at each other’s throat every single moment. It’s like you are locked in a never-ending battle, a constant clash of wills. Every decision he makes seems to deliberately oppose yours, every step he takes is a challenge to your very presence. He thrives in the chaos, you can see it in the way he strides trough camp, shoulders squared, head held high, daring anyone to question him. His motto—whatever the hell we want—rings in your ears like a taunt, a reckless mantra you can’t ignore. He embodies it with every decision, with every command he gives without caring for the consequences.

When he encouraged the others to rip off their bracelets, you felt the sting of frustration burning through your veins. To him it was a bold declaration of independence from the Ark, but to you, it was a hasty move to those above thinking Earth wasn’t livable.

And then, there was the Grounder. The way he’d dragged the man into camp, beaten and bloodied, as if his very existence was a crime that needed punishing. You left the room when he ordered the torture, convinced that brute force was the only answer. The look in his eyes then—cold, calculating, determined—was a look that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

He’s always there, hiding on the edges of your vision, challenging you. It’s infuriating, the way he dismisses anything resembling compromise or collaboration as weakness, how he scoffs at your attempts to hold onto something resembling order or morality.

Yet, there’s something in his attitude —something in the way he glances at you, a flicker of underdetermination, a tension that thrums between you like a wire. It’s in the way he steps closer when you argue, his body taut, like he’s gearing up for a fight he both craves and dreads. You feel it too—the tightness in your chest, the burn of frustration that’s more than just anger, something deeper, more complicated. You don’t know whether you want to scream at him or—

But no, you won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he gets under your skin.

You take a look at the sky losing its light with each minute that it passes.

Taking a deep breath, you continue.

After what feels like hours of searching, you finally spot the familiar shape of the plant you’re looking for. You remember the details Clark gave you. Crouching down you carefully pull a small bag from your pocket. You work quickly, plucking the plants and stuffing them into the bag, your movements precise and purposeful.

But then—a sudden rustling, a low whisper of movement through the leaves nearby. Your heart stutters, and your breath catches in your throat.

Instinct takes over. You drop low, pressing yourself against the cold ground, hiding behind the broad leaves of the plant. Grounders, maybe.

They could be watching, waiting.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, listening for the sound of footsteps, for the snap of a twig or the rustle of leaves that would betray their presence. But instead, you hear a low chuckle—soft, mocking, and far too familiar.

Your eyes snap open, and you whip around, breath catching in your chest.

There, arms on his waist, is Bellamy. His eyes, dark and sharp, are fixed on you like a predator who has found his prey. His brows are drawn together, the muscles in his neck tense, and there's a fire in his gaze that blazes hotter than any annoyance you've seen before.

“I see you like to test my patience, Princess.” His deep voice cuts through the silence, pulling your gaze upward. He's standing right in front of you.

You get up immediately, your breathing and muscles relaxing at the notice that you are not in danger.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his previous comment, turning around and continuing on getting more plants.

“I remember telling everyone to not leave camp, and that includes you too, you know? There’s no special treatment here.” You hear him from behind.

“I wasn’t going to sit around. Clark needs this for Finn.”

“He’s stable enough; we don’t need anyone else getting hurt over this.” Bellamy insists, his tone sharp.

You clench your teeth and turn. “Look, I couldn’t care less what you think. I don’t go by your rules.”

Bellamy scoffs and grabs your arm. You let go of his grasp as soon as he starts walking.

“Don’t touch me!”

Bellamy watches you, wondering why you are being stubborn right now. Hell, he even wonders why he came here for the first place. Was he worried about you? Why did he come here? He questions himself. Bellamy’s mind races, battling with the tangled web of his feelings. He’s been fighting to keep everyone safe, to enforce rules that seem cold but necessary, and yet, here he is, breaking his own rule because of you.

Truth is, you have been nothing but a burden to him every single day since they put a foot on earth. Your defiance, your refusal to follow orders, your reckless bravery—all of it has been a thorn in his side. Every day, you challenged his authority and decisions, and yet, despite all the friction, despite the constant arguments and the resentment, there’s something about you that pulls at him.

He can’t quite distinguish it, but it’s there—a magnetic pull that makes him question his own motives and feelings. It’s in the way you stand up for what you believe in, even when it puts you at risk. It’s in the fire and determination in your eyes, something that resonates with him on a deeper level than he’s willing to admit.

The frustration he feels is braided with an unspoken admiration, a bittering respect that complicates his emotions even further. Bellamy is torn between his duty and the sudden impulses of something else—something he can’t easily define or control. It’s a vulnerability he hasn’t allowed himself to explore, and it confuses him.

All he knows is that despite the danger and the defiance, he can’t seem to turn his back on you. His frustration is laced with a deeper, more complex emotion that makes him question why he’s so determined to keep you safe.

He thought you would be this scared of everyone and everything type of girl, but you prove him all the opposite.

“Let’s go back—”

“I won’t.” You cut him off, not giving him a chance to say anything. You turn again and continue with your job.

Of course, you hoped that he would go and leave you alone. You hoped.

Next thing you know, your feet aren’t touching the ground and you are being lifted up by him. A few leaves escape your grasp, so you make sure to close the bag.

“Let me go!” You protest.

“Stop screaming, you are putting us in danger” He doesn’t listen to your request, instead he walks back to camp.

You scoff, moving frantically. “If you cared so much about safety, you wouldn’t be carrying me off like I’m just another pack to you!”

Bellamy's jaw clenches, and he stops abruptly, eyes scanning the surrounding woods.

“You’re the one making noise,” he retorts, setting you down but not releasing his grip entirely. “Keep quiet or—”

You hear it then—a rustling of leaves, far too close, far too deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat. It’s not just the wind. Bellamy stiffens beside you, his grip on your arm tightening reflexively.

For a split second, your eyes meet, and you both know: the Grounders.

“Run,” he whispers, urgency dripping from the word.

But there’s no time to argue. You both take off, feet pounding against the damp earth, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The sounds behind you grow closer—footsteps, which makes your heart race even faster.

Up ahead, you spot a dark opening—a cave, half-hidden by foliage. You yank Bellamy toward it without thinking, and for once, he doesn’t resist. Both dive inside, pressing against the cold rock. The cave is narrow, suffocating, but it’s cover.

Outside, you hear the murmurs and footsteps of the Grounders drawing near. You hold your breath, every muscle tense. Bellamy’s hand is still around your wrist, and you can feel his pulse racing just as fast as yours.

“We’re not going anywhere until it clears. We need to stay inside.” he mutters, barely audible.

Bellamy presses a hand against the small of your back, steering you deeper into the cave, his touch firm, almost commanding. You feel the heat of his palm through your shirt, and it sends a jolt of anger through you.

“Get your hand off me.” You snap, jerking away from his touch. But the cave is too narrow, and he doesn't give you much space to maneuver.

His jaw tightens, and he steps even closer, his eyes dark and unreadable. “I’m trying to keep you from getting killed.”

You dig your heels in, resisting just to spite him. “I don’t need you to save my life, Bellamy.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it—just a sharp, bitter edge. “You think I want to be stuck here with you? Trust me, Princess, this is the last place I want to be.”

You whirl around, stepping closer, your chest brushing against his, both of you too angry to care. “Then why are you here?” you fire back, your voice louder than you intended. “Why do you always have to control everything? Who made you the boss of me?"

His hand, still on your back, clenches into a fist, pulling you closer instead of pushing you away.

“Maybe because I’m trying to keep you alive!” he spits out, his face inches from yours, his breath hot. “You are always doing this—taking risks, getting in my way. Do you have a death wish?”

Your heart pounds in your chest, anger flaring into something more intense. “No, but maybe you do,” you whisper fiercely. “Coming out here, risking your life for someone you supposedly can’t stand. What is it, Bellamy? Why do you even care?”

He grits his teeth, and you see something flicker in his eyes—a momentary crack in his armor. “I don’t!” he snaps, but his voice lacks conviction, faltering on the last word.

“Liar,” you accuse, stepping even closer, your forehead nearly touching his. “If you didn’t care, you’d have let me go. You wouldn’t have come after me, wouldn’t have—”

His grip tightens on your arm, and his other hand moves to your waist, his fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp. “You think you know everything, don’t you?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “You think you’ve got me all figured out?”

You tilt your chin defiantly, eyes blazing. “Why don’t you just admit it? All this, you’re not really angry. You’re scared. Scared of what might happen if you lose control. Scared of what it means if something happens to m—"

But he doesn’t let you finish. In the blink of an eye, he’s on you, lips crashing against yours with a force that takes your breath away. The kiss is rough, almost bruising, a mixture of frustration and something deeper—something desperate. You freeze for a moment, caught off guard, before the shock melts into anger again, and you shove against his chest.

He doesn’t pull back. Instead, he presses you harder against the cold, cave wall, his body flush against yours. His hands move up, one sliding to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place while his mouth claims yours with a furious intensity, like he’s trying to silence every word, every protest.

Your heart is racing, your thoughts a tangled mess. You should push him away again, should shove him back and yell in his face, but instead, you find yourself kissing him back just as fiercely, your hands fisting in his shirt. It’s like all the anger, all the arguments have boiled over into this—this raw, heated clash of mouths and tongues.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are panting, breaths coming fast, and his forehead rests against yours, his eyes still dark with emotion.

“Why do you care?” you whisper again, but this time your voice is softer, less certain.

His thumb brushes your cheek, and his gaze is intense, almost searching. “I don’t know,” he mutters, but there’s something vulnerable in his tone, something that makes your heart ache even as your anger simmers beneath the surface.

“Maybe I’m frustrated…so damn frustrated because—” He hesitates, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “—because you’ve got a way of getting under my skin, and it’s driving me crazy. But yeah, there it is. I’m worried. Happy?”

His lips are so close you can feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, it’s like the whole world has narrowed to just the two of you, trapped together in this cave, trapped by something you can’t name.

"Bell..." you start, but he silences you again, this time with a softer kiss, one that seems to ask for something instead of demand it.

His hands slips down to the curve of your waist pulling you even closer, and you feel a shiver run down your spine, heat pounding low in your belly.

Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers locking on his dark strands. The kids deepens, growing more urgent, desperate, as if both of you are trying to pour all this unspoken feelings into a single, shared breath.

And you know that whatever this is, you are not ready to stop it. Not yet.

[racoonblossom]

The fog | MDNI

summary: When out hunting the acid fog horn is blown and reader has no choice but to find shelter in a small bunker with Bellamy. To pass time he shows her how to stand while holding a weapon, although it quickly turns to more.

pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

warnings: use of y/n, cursing, virgin!reader, oral (f receiving), slight hair pulling, slight choking, fingering.

word count: 1.4k

note: sorry if this isn't the best it's my first time writing but I hope you enjoy it!!

The cold air was strong as the voices of fellow delinquents started getting drowned out by the distance created. You were hunting in a small group which consisted of Clarke, Monty, Jasper, Octavia and Bellamy. Bellamy Blake, the designated leader ever since you landed on the dropship. You weren't going to deny that he was, well hot. Your eyes regularly travelled to where he was, admiring the way he walked, talked, hunted-.

"Y/N?" A voice cut you out of your trance and your head snapped over to Clarke who had been walking next to you. You quickly put on a fake smile "hm?" you hummed softly stealing one more glance at Bellamy, who was glancing back at you. "We are going to split into smaller groups, were you listening?" Clarke tilted her head placing her hands on her hips. "Yeah-" you chuckled nervously "splitting up into groups, is that really a good idea? Yknow... with the grounders and all." You adjusted the bag on your back waiting for Clarke to reply but before she could Bellamy cut in, "of course it's a good idea, princess. It was my idea." God was he cocky. he stood there with his signature smirk across his lips making your stomach do flips. "Lets go, your with me." Your eyes widened slightly, you were with him? Hunting with him? You nodded quickly hurrying as you noticed Bellamy begin to walk.

Not even 5 minutes later you were rushing through the woods, one hand clutching the bag draped across your back and the other out trying to stabilize your running. The familiar sound of the horn had filled your ears making you and Bellamy freeze in place before he insisted he knew a place to go to for shelter. Camp was too far away so now you were trying your best to keep up with Bellamy, struggling not to trip over the exposed roots that were scatted around the floor.

Bellamy slid onto his knees brushing some leaves and dirt before revealing a small door. You were looking around frantically as you saw the fog flowing its way closer. "Bellamy it's getting closer!" You nervously shouted as your heart pounded in your chest. "Get in." Was all you heard from the man as you glanced down, the small door now open. You didn't need to be asked twice, you threw your bag down the hatch before sliding yourself in. Bellamy was close behind you as he shut the door with a groan. You collapsed against the closest wall you could find panting heavily from the run, "Princess? Are you alright?" Your eyes widened slightly as Bellamy kneeled in front of you, his eyes softer then ever. You've never seen him look so... caring? "Yeah- yeah Bellamy I'm fine" You panted running your hands through your hair as Bellamy collapsed next to you grumbling some curses. "Fuck. Fuck!" He groaned leaning his head back against the wall, "we're going to be stuck in here for hours." You sighed closing your eyes and focusing on Bellamy's pants.

The bunker was small, only with a couch and what looked like a tiny kitchen. Some time had passed and Bellamy had grown more restless. He had spent the past 10 minutes practicing his stance when holding a weapon, you sat against a wall watching him closely. Your gaze was drawn to the way he flexed his arm and how the sweat rolled down his forehead. "Get up." Your brows furrowed as you stuttered over your words, "g-get up? why?" Bellamy turned to face you, "I want to see what you've got princess." That smirk, that goddamn smirk has your knees weak within seconds. You nervously stand up making your way over to Bellamy. He easily towered over you. "Turn around..." he whispered lowly, to which you complied. Bellamy placed a hand around your waist, the other over your hand making you hold the weapon. Your breath hitches as you feel his muscular chest press against your back. His scent flowed through your nose, you had to bite you tongue to hold back a whimper. "Legs apart" he mumbled lowly using his knee to push you legs apart. You let a small yelp slip as he pressed against your back, it took you a second to notice the hardening against your ass.

You shuddered trying to squirm forward, to which Bellamy pulled you back. "Something wrong princess?" He whispered hoarsely into your ear, your stomach was doing summersaults. "I- Bell..." you whispered back nervously. "Shhh... be quiet princess" his hand around your waist began to travel down your side, "just seeing you sitting there staring at me." He clicked his tongue chuckling lowly "sittin' there looking all pretty, and god," you gasped loudly as you felt a firm squeeze be given to your ass. "this ass" he groaned turning his head to place a soft kiss to your neck. You were speechless as you stood there frozen in place, it felt like a dream. "bellamy- I've never-" He let go of your hand wrapping it around your throat softly, "I said quiet. Be a good girl, yeah?" Your eyes were wide as he spun you around to face him, pining you against the closest wall, a hand squeezing your ass as the other had a firm grip on your throat. Before you could think he pressed his lips to yours, his mouth devouring yours. You easily melted into the kiss as he trailed his hands down to your thighs lifting you up. You let out a soft moan as your legs locked around his waist, your hands tangling in his curls. Bellamy broke the kiss, using one hand to tug your hair back to expose your neck. You whimpered as you felt him start to devour your neck, most likely leaving marks. "Fuck" he growled as he backed you up placing you on the couch as he rested his forearms by your head, bringing his lips back to yours in an urgent, desperate kiss. He pushed his tongue into your mouth making you a whimpering mess, "haven't even touched you properly and look at you.... pathetic." he growled lowering himself on your body, leaving kisses along your stomach.

You had never seen this side of him before, less then an hour ago he was caring and soft. You got pulled out of your thoughts when you felt calloused fingers roughly pulling your pants and panties down. "Bellamy" you panted trying to squirm away but his hands had you held by the hips. "Yes princess?" He said through a smirk as his index finger teased your folds. You whimpered trying to squeeze your thighs together, "I-I've never...." Bellamy simply clicked his tongue using his hands to spread your thighs. "I know, I'll make it feel good for you princess. I promise." He whispered as he began trailing kisses down your inner thigh. You nodded quickly leaning your head back against the uncomfortable couch. Bellamy placed your legs on his shoulders before diving in like a starved man. He flattened his tongue on your clit making you gasp, your hands flying to his hair. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he mumbled sending vibrations through you. He began to move his tongue, switching between your entrance and your clit. You were whimpering, moaning and squirming beneath him. Your chest moving up and down from the pants you were letting out. Your back arched off the bed as he dipped two fingers into your entrance, his mouth wrapping around you clit in a slow tortures pace. "Bellamy" You moaned breathlessly as your thighs squeezed his head which only seemed to egg him on. "Keep saying my name princess, tell me how good this feels." All you could do was nod at his words, an unfamiliar coil in your stomach beginning to form. "s-so good" you whimpered squeezing your thighs tighter. With one final curl of his fingers against your spongey walls, flick of his tongue on your clit, had made you coming undone below him.

You panted as Bellamy worked you through your high, he pulled away to look up at you with a smirk. You looked down between your thighs seeing his chin covered in slick. He crawled up your body putting your chin between his fingers, he leaned in to kiss you but you placed your hands on his chest your eyes glued to the slick on his chin. "Baby you got to let me kiss you, if we're going to be doing this more you have to get use to this." You looked into his eyes before nodding softly, with confirmation he crashed his lips on yours. This kiss was more passionate and soft, you could taste yourself on his tongue which made your head spiral. He softly moved up to kiss your forehead, "you were so good... so good" he whispered tugging you into his side as you felt tiredness fall over you.

[darnell-la]

Could you write mean!dom Bellamy Blake waiting for the reader to tire herself out after throwing a tantrum and then punishing her for it? Thank you so much!! 🥰

note: we almost forgot how rude and cocky Bellamy Blake is. that man is somehting else…

———

“Do your best, princess,” Bellamy said as he watched y/n struggle against the restraints he put her in. “C’mon, baby, it shouldn’t be that hard,” he continued to tease her as she struggled.

He had the young lady naked and tied so tight, her skin began to burn. Maybe if she didn’t walk around, flirting with Finn, she wouldn’t be like this.

“As soon as we get a nice place to sleep in, you wanna sneak around with Finn. I thought you better then that,” Bellamy said as he enjoyed watching the tears stream from her eyes.

“I didn’t flirt with me! H-He showed me secrets rooms, that’s all. I swear!” Y/n said as she continued to try her best to get free, but it wasn’t looking well for her.

“Oh, yeah, of course — He only showed you paintings. Then made you a painting, ain’t that somehtin,” y/n knew it looked bad, but she swore she wanted nothing from Finn. He was just a good and fun friend to explore with.

“I-I’m sorry, just, stop this,” y/n felt embarrassed as Bellamy got up from the chair he’s been sitting in for almost an hour. “Stop what? I can’t let you go anywhere,” the look Bellamy had, frightened y/n, but this was her fault.

“Y-You’re so mean,” y/n said, knowing Bellamy was teasing her to see her cry. He always did, but that was her fault for putting herself in a situation like this almost every week.

“Oh, really?” Bellamy asked as he saw y/n’s one hand getting loose. “Yes!” She yelled at him right before she got her hand out. She quickly began to get her other hand free, then went to her feet.

Bellamy told her almost an hour again to calm down, and maybe he’d let her go. Now she’s getting free herself, and he’ll let her — Only for a couple of seconds, thought.

Right as y/n got free, she got up and went to run towards the bathroom, but he lunged on the bed and pulled her into him. “C’mere,” Bellamy voice echoed through her head as he pinned her to the bed.

“Just look at you — A fuckin’ brat. You think because you’re a pretty little thing, that I won’t ruin you? Huh!?” Y/n has never seen Bellamy this upset at her before.

“Get off of me! I hate you!” She yelled, but it was all a lie. They both knew it, but Bellamy was willing to act. “Oh, yeah — You hate me? Well, I’m going to make you hate me more,”

Bellamy moved and pulled himself out of his pants faster than she could think. At first, she thought he leaned up to get off of her, but after she felt him right back on her, she knew she was in for something tonight.

“No- I’m done with this. I’m done!” Y/n said, feeling embarrassed that she doesn’t sound serious enough for him to believe her. “Yeah, you’re so done with me tonight,”

Bellamy chuckled in y/n’s ear as he pushed into her, filling her to the hilt. “So done,” Bellamy breathed out as he felt her clinch around her multiple times. He knew she needed him as soon as he tied her down.

“Bell,” y/n whined as her back arched. Bellamy pushed her waist down to force her to keep her back on the bed, as his free hand snaked around her neck. “Take it, and maybe I’ll forgive you,”

Before you/n could argue against what the man was angry about today, he snapped his hips, fucking into her harder than she knew he could.

Y/n’s eyes rolled back as her mouth slacked, letting Bellamy know she was close. “Can he do this to you? Can he get this pussy goin?” Y/n shook her head no, but he didn’t believe her. He was pretty sure she cheated at least once.

“Let’s go ask him after this,”

[grimesve1l]

Rules

Summary: Running from acid fog gives you and Bellamy an opportunity to finally get along in a way neither of you expected

Warnings: Angst if you squint and a single kiss

You, along with some others were trying to hunt for food when the fog started to roll in. Everyone scattered in different directions, desperately trying to avoid it. As you're running you spot what seems to be a door nestled in the earth. You muster the strength to open it but before you can properly inspect the interior you're pushed inside.

The door slams behind you and you're surrounded by darkness. You scramble to get away from the person that pushed you, fearing it could be a grounder. "Calm down it's just me." you hear Bellamy's voice call out. Instantly your fear turns to annoyance. "You couldn't have said that before you pushed in a hole in the ground?" you answer him.

For some reason you and Bellamy could never get along. On the ark you two did your best to avoid each other. Now that you two were on the ground together you constantly butter heads over what was best for the group. "It's not a hole in the ground. I think it's some kind of bunker, help me look for a light." he says.

"Would saying please kill you?" you reply as you get up. "Would actually listening to me for once kill you?" he asks. "Considering the way you try to lead us with "no rules" probably." you say honestly. Suddenly lights flicker on above you. "I found the light." Bellamy tells you.

"Now you can look me in the face while you complain." he says sarcastically. "Fun." you reply with a fake smile. "What's your problem with me anyway?" he asks as he sits back on the couch in what you figure is some kind of doomsday bunker you two have found yourselves in.

"You're impulsive, controlling, never think you're wrong, and you always find a way to argue with me so..." you answer giving him a knowing look. "I don't always argue with you" he argues. You simply look at him until he realizes. "That time doesn't count." he says lightly pointing at you.

"Whatever." you mutter as you sit on the couch next to him, still keeping your distance. "You know we're gonna be in here for a while..." he says scooting closer to you. "Absolutely not." you reply, not even looking at him. "Damn you really don't like me, huh princess?" he asks remaining in close to you.

"I really don't and don't call me princess." you reply scrunching your face in disgust. The two of you sit in silence for a moment before Bellamy blurts out. "I'm bored, i'm finding us something to do." He looks around the small bunker before finding something that looks promising.

He throws a box down on the table in front of you. It appears to be a game but you don't recognize it. "What's this?" you ask. He takes a seat beside you before answering. "I don't know but we have nothing but time so let's figure it out." You decide anything is better than sitting in awkward silence so you agree to play.

________________________________________________

"Hey, I wanna be the cat." you say as you take the piece from Bellamy's hand. "Chill out I was just looking at it. I was gonna choose the dog anyway." he laughs. In that moment the two of you realize that for once you're not arguing or being passive aggressive with each other. Not wanting to this to change, neither of you mention it.

You both continue to play the game, Bellamy tries to make up his own rules while you correct him by reading the actual rules. "Why do I go to jail?" he asks confused. "That was your third time rolling doubles. See right here, it says you go to jail." you answer pointing to the rule book.

"How am I supposed to get out." he asks after moving his piece. "Give me fifty dollars." you reply trying not to smile and give away your lie. "Give you fifty dollars for what?" he asks confused. "I don't know thats what it's says." He begins catching on to your lie as he reads your expression. "Let me see the book." he says with his hand out.

"No, I don't think you need it right now." you reply looking away to hide the smile thats broken onto your face. "Y/n give it to me." he attempts to reason. "Nope." you respond shaking your head. He lets out a chuckle at your playfulness before shaking his head. "Okay I'll just get it myself then." he tells you. "Wait what?"

Before you can react he's reaching out over you to grab the book from your hand. You laugh as the two of you fight over it. You lean back as far as you can to keep the book from his grasp. Right as he's about to grab it, as a last resort effort you toss the book across the room.

"Seriously?" Bellamy responds as he laughs above you. This laughter is what makes you acknowledge how close the two of you are. Bellamy appears to realize it to as he slowly stops laughing and seems to take in your features. Eventually the two of you look at each other, his eyes scan your face and stop at your lips.

He leans down until he can feel your breath against his face. He looks back up at you as a way to ask your permission. You nod slightly and with no hesitation he connects your lips. It's gentle, not something you'd expect from Bellamy. He pulls back and scans your face again. This time when his eyes find your lips they're met with a light smile.

"I lied." you mutter. He cocks his head at you in confusion. "You don't give the fifty dollars to me, you give it to the bank." you explain, continuing to smile at him. "I knew it!" he laughs. After that the game isn't mentioned again. Instead you both stretch out on the couch. You lie on your back with Bellamy on top of you.

The two of you talk about different things, forgetting about the acid fog thats most definitely passed by now. Eventually Bellamy grabs a blanket that was nearby and throws it over the both of you. Soon your conversation grows less and less as you both nod off.

--------------------------------------------------------------"I think I saw them head this way when the fog came." Jasper says as the others follow. "Guys look at this." Clarke calls out as she points to the door." "You think they could be in there?" asks Monty. "Let's hope." Clarke replies, going to open it. They quickly file in the bunker and are shocked at the sight they're met with.

There you two are, asleep and cuddling on the couch with the game from earlier on the table in front of you. Jasper and Monty laugh as Clarke inspects the bunker curiously. "I'm definitely holding this against him the next time he tries to tell me what to do." Octavia says as she shakes her head at you and Bellamy.

A/n: I didn't plan for this to turn out how it did but i kinda love it. We fs need more Bellamy fluff on here so here's my contribution<3

Go here to be added to my taglist!!

Find more of my stuff here :p

[sukunasbow]

sick, bellamy blake.

summary: in which you take care of bellamy blake when he catches the virus spreading around the camp!

warnings: fem!reader, kane’s daughter!reader, kinda ‘enemies’ to lovers, mentions of blood and puking, doesn’t exactly follow the original scene from the show, some use of (y/n), and not proof read so grammar but be really trash atm since i wrote this at like five in the morning!

notes: this is lowkey bad and i don’t know if anyone still reads the 100 works but enjoy to anyone who likes this!

“Clarke!” Jasper yells, running towards the drop ship, catching your attention. “What? She’s resting, I’m taking over.” You walk towards the doorway, pulling down the old shirt you have wrapped around your neck to cover your face, wondering what’s wrong now.

Murphy brought back some virus from the grounders, quickly spreading it to almost everyone at the camp. Due to this, you’ve spent the entirety of the night walking around the ship, cleaning up the bloody faces of the people around you and giving clean water to them after Clarke caught the virus and could no longer take over.

As you reach the doorway, your eyes widen when you see Jasper standing next to three boys. One of the boys is being held up by the other two. “Bellamy?” You immediately run towards the boys when you realize who it is, “Jasper, stay outside, you can’t get sick.” You instruct, stopping him from getting any closer to his sick friend. “Come on, help me make space!” You yell, leading the boys towards a dirty cot in the drop ship. “Here, thanks.” You tell them, the boys carefully lying him down before quickly leaving the room full of sick teenagers.

“Bell?!” Octavia rushed towards her brother, who you quickly turn on his side as he starts throwing up blood. “Oh my god.” You squint, somehow still not used to the sight of bloody vomit. As much as you hate the stubborn and self appointed ‘leader,’ you felt awful seeing his current state. “I got this.” Octavia places a hand on your shoulder, letting you know she wants to take care of her brother and have some space, “Call me if you need me.” You nod.

“Hey, get some rest, let me take over now.” You whisper, kneeling down next to Octavia and her sleeping brother. “Are you sure?” She bites her lip, clearly struggling to stay awake. “Yes, go sleep.” You smile. Octavia gives in and accepts your offer, going to sleep near Clarke, still close enough incase anything happens while she’s resting.

Moments later, your eyebrows raised at the sound of Bellamy moving around. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” You breathe out, trying to be as gentle as you can, awkwardly touching his arm. He opens his eyes even more, squinting to make sure it’s you.

“Oh. I thought you hated me, huh? Yet you’re taking care of me?” Somehow while he’s going through a deadly virus, he still manages to piss you off and be arrogant. “Would you rather me just let you choke on your own blood?” You scoff. He lets out a raspy laugh, coughing up some blood in the process. “Ew.” You fake gag when you notice some of the blood splatter on your shoes, still trying to remain lighthearted. “Shut up.” He huffs. “Let me help, sit up a bit.” You mumble, taking the shirt you previously were using as protection and dipping it into a clean bucket of water, then moving closer to Bellamy. “You need to stay away, stop.” He pushes you away, only now noticing the lack of face covering you have on. “It’s fine.” You move back to where you were, carefully grabbing his face, running your thumb over his cheekbones as you gently dab the wet cloth on his face. The dried blood slowly washes off of his face.

“There he is.” You place the cloth down beside him. “I can finally see your smug face.” You joke, earning an eye roll from him. “All better.” You hum. A small smile appears on your face as his eyes start fluttering shut. Although you’re supposed to be against him and his shit leading skills, you still feel a part of you melting at the closeness between you and him. “Okay, you can go back to sleep.” You laugh at Bellamy’s attempt to stay sitting up and awake. “Wait, no, I should-” He starts, you quickly stopping him from moving. “Bellamy.” You whisper, “Please, just let yourself relax.” You tone is soft and gentle, something that surprises both of you, even more the man, his eyes softening. He feels his own heart melt, which also surprises him.

As he goes back to lying down, he watches as you carefully walk away, weaving around the drop ship, avoiding the other people that are lying down. He catches himself almost smile. Now, he realizes he might feel something opposite of ‘hatred’ towards you, the stubborn daughter of Marcus Kane that always disagrees with him, who he’s supposed to be against.

[maddie0101]

𖠰 weathering the storm

𖠰 paring: bellamy blake x fem!reader

𖠰 summary: sent on a rescue mission, bellamy and the reader are stranded and when acid rain hits, it forces them into the rover. as the storm rages outside, another brews between them. one they can’t outrun, no matter how hard they try.

𖠰 warnings: smut!! (mdni), set in s4, sexual tension, best friends to lovers, y/n Kane, teasing, p in v, fingering, idiots in love, rover sex, acid rain, dirty talk, bell’s been a simp for the reader since day 1, wrap it b4 you tap it bc they don’t.

𖠰 word count: 5k

The rover rumbled over the uneven terrain, bouncing with every dip in the road. The forest stretched endlessly on either side, thick with towering trees that blocked most of the sunlight. What little light broke through flickered across the dashboard, painting shifting patterns across the cracked leather. The air was dense with the scent of damp earth and pine, and despite the tension of being on patrol, there was something almost peaceful about the steady hum of the engine and the rhythmic movement of the vehicle.

At least, it would have been peaceful—if not for Bellamy. “You ever gonna take your feet off my dash, or is this just how it’s gonna be now?” he asked, casting a sidelong glance at you.

You smirked, not even bothering to move your boot from where it was comfortably propped up. “I dunno. I kinda like it here.”

Bellamy huffed a laugh. “Of course you do. Just like you like ignoring the actual purpose of patrol and letting me do all the work.”

“I’m scanning the trees, aren’t I?” You gestured toward the dense forest outside. “I don’t see you keeping an eye out for grounders or rogue scavengers.”

“I’m driving,” he pointed out.

You hummed. “So, I guess that means I should be the one making sure we don’t run into anything.”

Bellamy snorted. “If we get ambushed, you’re the first one I’m throwing out as bait.”

You placed a dramatic hand over your chest. “Wow. That’s so touching. And here I thought we were best friends.”

Bellamy smirked, shaking his head. “Best friends who get each other killed, apparently.”

You chuckled, settling deeper into your seat. Moments like these weren’t uncommon between you and Bellamy. Ever since the drop ship had landed on Earth, you’d gone from barely tolerating each other to being inseparable. At first, you’d clashed. His reckless leadership, your stubborn defiance, both of you constantly butting heads. But somewhere along the way, arguments had turned into mutual respect. Respect had turned into friendship. And now…

Now, you weren’t entirely sure what it was.

Because there were moments like now—where his smirks lingered just a second too long, where his teasing carried an edge of something softer. Moments where his presence felt too comfortable, too familiar. Moments where you had to remind yourself that he was your best friend, nothing more.

Even if sometimes, it felt like he could be. But before you could dwell on it, static crackled through the radio.

Bellamy sighed, reaching for the receiver. “Go ahead.”

“This is Kane,” your father’s voice came through, sharp and clear. “We need you two to divert from your patrol.”

You straightened, instantly on alert.

Bellamy exchanged a glance with you before responding, “What’s going on?”

“One of the kids from the hundred, Talia—went out on a supply run this morning. She hasn’t reported back.”

Your stomach tightened. Talia. She was one of the original delinquents. The ones who had landed with you, Bellamy, and Clarke. The ones you had sworn to protect.

Bellamy sat up a little straighter, all humor from before fading. “How long has she been missing?”

“Long enough,” Kane said. “Her last radio check-in was hours ago. We need you to find her before nightfall.”

You didn’t hesitate. “We’re on it.”

The radio cut out and Bellamy was already turning the rover around. His grip on the wheel was tight, his expression set in stone. You could see it—the weight settling over him, the same way it always did when it came to your people.

“We’ll find her,” you said, quieter now.

Bellamy nodded once, jaw clenched. “Yeah. We have to.”

The journey toward Talia’s last known location wasn’t easy. The roads were rough, the ground still damp from the last storm. The rover jolted with every deep groove in the earth, and navigating the terrain was like playing a dangerous game of chance. You had just started to think you might actually make it without issue when the wheels suddenly spun out.

The rover lurched forward before sinking deep into the mud with a sickening squelch. The engine growled as Bellamy tried to gun the throttle, but the tires only spun, flinging wet earth into the air.

“Shit,” Bellamy muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. He tried again. Nothing.

You exhaled, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “Tell me we’re not stuck.”

Bellamy muttered another curse before shutting off the engine. “We’re stuck.”

You pushed open the door, immediately sinking up to your ankles in the mud. “Great.”

Bellamy got out of the rover, boots squelching in the thick sludge and came over to your side. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the tires. The rover was buried deep, way too deep to just drive out of.

“We’re gonna have to dig it out,” you said.

Bellamy let out a sharp breath. “Yeah. Because that’s totally gonna work.”

You shot him a look. “You got a better idea?”

He hesitated, rubbing his forehead. He was stressed, and you could tell. His shoulders were tense and his jaw was set. You knew that look. He was already thinking about how they were wasting time. How every second spent here was a second Talia could be in danger.

“Hey,” you said, softer now. “We’ll get it out.”

Bellamy exhaled, nodding. “I know. Just—let’s hurry.”

You grabbed a branch, hoping to use it as a makeshift shovel, and started working at the mud around the tires. Bellamy did the same, his hands digging into the thick, wet earth.

But then the first drop fell. It landed on the back of your hand and a sharp, burning pain followed immediately. You hissed at the pain but before you could react, Bellamy hissed from beside you.

You quickly lifted your gaze up to the sky, but as you did it seemed like the sky opened up. Within seconds that one tiny drop of rain turned into thousands, all sending sharp burning sensations wherever the rain hit your body. The pain was instant and agonizing. You'd never felt something like this before.

“Acid rain—” Bellamy’s voice barely cut through the the storm.You barely sucked in a breath before Bellamy grabbed your wrist, yanking you toward the rover. “Go! Go!” His voice was sharp, urgent, but the pain was worse. Your clothes were already smoking, the rain eating through the fabric like it was nothing. The rover was just a few feet away, but every step was agony. Your boots sunk into the mud, legs straining as the downpour pummeled your body. Bellamy reached the door first, swinging it open before practically shoving you inside.

You barely got into the back before he was scrambling in after you, slamming the door shut behind him. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the storm raging outside. But the burning was agonizing.

“Shit.” Bellamy’s voice was tight, hoarse, his hands already yanking at his soaked jacket. “Get it off—now!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your jacket hit the floor in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. The acid had already soaked through, searing into your skin. Your hands trembled as you fumbled with your shirt, trying to tear it off as quickly as possible.

Across from you, Bellamy was doing the same—his fingers clawing at his shirt, desperate to rid himself of the burning fabric. His skin was red, raw, and he winced as he ripped the material over his head.

You weren’t fast enough. Your shirt was sticking to your skin, the acid making it cling. You hissed in pain as you struggled to pull it over your head, heart pounding.

Bellamy barely hesitated. “Here.” His hands were suddenly there, fingers brushing yours, helping tug the fabric over your arms. The second it was off, you sucked in a sharp breath, blinking through the sting.

But it wasn’t enough. The pain was still crawling across your body, and your pants—

“Off—get them off,” Bellamy ordered, already working at his own belt.

You weren’t thinking, just moving. Doing anything possible to get the burning sensation to go away. Your fingers fumbled at the button of your pants, struggling with the wet fabric, legs shaking as you pushed them down. Your boots were still on, but you barely registered the difficulty as you kicked them off, peeling away the last of the soaked material.

Bellamy was just as frantic, shoving his jeans down, breath coming in sharp, pained bursts. His skin was littered with burns, deep red patches where the acid had already started eating through.

The air inside the rover was thick and hot despite the chill outside. You were both half-undressed, bare skin stinging, breaths coming too fast.

Water. Your hands scrambled for your canteen, popping the cap off with shaking fingers before tilting it over your arms, letting the water wash over your burns. You barely registered the way Bellamy did the same, tipping his flask over his chest, water dripping down his skin, mixing with the remnants of acid.

For a long moment, there was nothing but heavy breathing and the storm howling outside.

Bellamy exhaled sharply, leaning back against the seat, chest still rising and falling rapidly. He ran a hand through his soaked curls, muttering something under his breath before finally glancing at you. His eyes trace the curve of your jaw, the way a stray lock of hair clings to your damp skin and he swallows hard, his gaze traveling lower to your chest. Shaking out of whatever trance he's in, he quickly looks away with his jaw set tight.

“Well,” he rasped, voice rough. “That was fun.”

You huffed a breathless laugh, weak but there. “Yeah. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Bellamy let out something between a chuckle and a groan, rubbing a hand down his face. He shifted slightly, and you caught the way his muscles tensed—probably still feeling the sting of the burns. You weren’t much better. Still feeling the uncomfortable tingles shooting through your body.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Just sat there, bodies humming with adrenaline, skin still damp from rain and water. The tension was thick but not just from what had happened, but from the way you had just stripped in front of each other, so frantic for relief that nothing else had mattered.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as your eyes flickered to Bellamy, still catching his breath across from you. His skin was still damp water clinging to him that traced the defined lines of his abs. For a second you just watched the way his chest rose and fell but noticed the burns that stood out on his tanned skin.

It wasn't until your gaze trailed back up that you realized he was watching you. Dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. Heat instantly crept up your neck, and you ripped your gaze away, praying he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your back against the cold metal of the rover, your damp skin still tingling from the burns. The air inside was thick and humid from the steam rising off your bodies, the leftover sting of the acid rain making every breath feel weighted.

Across from you, Bellamy shifted, leaning forward to grab the radio. His shoulders were tense, jaw set as he twisted the dial, static crackling through the speaker. His fingers tightened around the radio before he tried again. “Arkadia, do you read me?”

The only response was more static. Bellamy sighed through his nose, setting the radio down with a little too much force. “Perfect.”

“Nothing?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Bellamy shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his damp curls before leaning back against his seat. “Signal’s dead. Either the storm’s messing with it, or we’re too far out.”

You glanced out the window. The rain still came down in thick sheets, obscuring the trees beyond the windshield. You couldn’t see much, but you knew that you weren't getting out of there anytime soon.

“So, we’re stuck.”

Bellamy’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Yeah.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back against the seat. “Great. Love that for us.”

“You did say you wanted to get out of Arkadia.”

Your head snapped toward him, brow lifting. “Oh, really? That’s the angle you’re taking?”

Bellamy smirked, but it was faint, exhaustion weighing down his features. “Hey, I’m just saying—you got your wish.”

“Right. Because sitting in a half-broken rover, practically naked, covered in burns is exactly what I had in mind.”

“Could be worse.”

“Oh?” You shot him a look. “Enlighten me.”

Bellamy shrugged. “Could’ve been a grounder attack.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fantastic. I’ll be sure to count my blessings.”

Despite everything, Bellamy chuckled—a quiet, tired sound that sent a strange warmth through your chest.

Silence settled between you again, heavier this time. Neither of you mentioned the fact that you were still sitting there, half-undressed, bare skin marked with fresh burns. The only warmth in the rover was the heat radiating off your own bodies, but that didn’t help much when the damp air still clung to you.

You rubbed at your arms, trying to chase away the chill creeping over your skin. The acid rain had burned, but now that the immediate pain was dulling, the cold was seeping in fast.

But Bellamy noticed. “Come here.”

Your breath caught slightly at the sudden shift in his tone, still rough, still Bellamy, but softer.

You hesitated, but only for a second before you sighed, pushing off your seat and scooting closer. Bellamy met you halfway, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. His skin was still warm, muscles tense beneath the burns, but the heat was comforting.

You exhaled, letting yourself lean against him, your cheek resting against his shoulder. “This is the worst patrol ever.”

Bellamy huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Definitely not my favorite.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to look at him. A small smirk tugged at your lips before a quiet sigh escaped you. “How long do you think the rain will last?”

His fingers traced absent patterns against your arm, his voice lower when he answered. “No way to know. Could be hours.”

You groaned. “Fantastic.”

Bellamy didn’t respond right away. His hand stilled against your skin, his thumb brushing over one of the raw patches left by the rain. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, not from pain, but from something else entirely. Something you really didn’t want to name.

Your eyes flickered to his, only to find that Bellamy was already watching you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the rover.

The space between you had already been small, but now it felt thicker, charged with something you had spent too long ignoring. His gaze dropped, just for a second to your lips, before flicking back up.

You swallowed.

Bellamy’s fingers twitched against your skin, like he wanted to move, to do something, to close the already small space between you. But as the storm raged on outside, the relentless drumming of the acid rain against the rover’s roof the only sound filling the silence between you. Everything still burned, the raw patches of skin tingling from where the acid had touched.

You exhaled, shifting slightly beside him. “You okay?”

Bellamy let out a breath, glancing down at you. “Yeah. You?”

You nodded. “Still breathing.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned his head back against the rover, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe we’re here,” he muttered after a moment.

You turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Just… all of this. You and me. Trapped in a damn rover, half-naked, cuddling, soaked, waiting for acid rain to stop falling from the sky.” He glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “It’s a hell of a long way from where we started.”

You softened, understanding settling over you. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It is.”

Bellamy huffed. “I mean, we hated each other when we landed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “I wouldn’t say hated.”

He gave you a pointed look. “Oh, come on. You couldn’t stand me.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Yeah, well. You were an arrogant ass.”

His mouth twitched, but he nodded. “Fair. But you weren’t exactly easy to deal with either.”

You raised a brow. “You mean when I was trying to keep everyone alive while you were busy playing King of the Delinquents?”

Bellamy groaned. “Okay, fine, I made some bad calls.”

You nudged him with your knee. “Some?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, a lot.” He shook his head, eyes flickering back to yours. “But then… I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, we figured it out. Became friends.”

“Best friends,” you corrected softly.

Bellamy’s gaze lingered on you, something warm settling in his expression. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Best friends.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of something else—something you both felt but never said. You swallowed, glancing down at your hands. “Crazy how things change, huh?”

Bellamy tilted his head, studying you. “Yeah.” His voice was quieter now, more careful. “Crazy.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The rain outside continued to fall, trapping you here in this moment—one you weren’t sure you were ready to leave. A sudden shiver ran down your spine before you could stop it. The cold air inside the rover clung to your damp skin, making you tense. Before you could even think about shifting closer to Bellamy, he beat you to it. His arm tightened around you, pulling you flush against him. His warmth wrapped around you instantly, his bare skin pressed firmly against yours. You let out a small breath, tilting your head slightly against his shoulder as he murmured, “You’re freezing.”

You almost laughed at that. “Kinda hard not to be.”

Bellamy huffed, his chest rising against yours. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now, rougher somehow, like the way he spoke when he was trying not to feel too much. You didn’t fight it, didn't even hesitate. You let yourself sink into him, your fingers lightly resting against his ribs as you exhaled.

But when you finally looked up at him, everything changed. His dark gaze was already on you, and for a second, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. Bellamy’s grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to ground himself. His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. His brows drew together just slightly, like he was trying to figure something out but then his gaze dropped.

To your lips. It was quick. Barely a second, but you saw it.

His breath hitched, his jaw tensing as his eyes flickered back up to yours. Then down again and then back. You couldn’t think. Hell you could barely even breathe. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he was memorizing every inch of your face, every part of this moment, because somehow, deep down, he knew he’d never be able to forget it.

Bellamy swallowed hard, his grip on you unmoving, his body still frozen, except for his fingers. They twitched against your side, like he wanted to move, to do something, to close the already small space between you. You felt it, the hesitation, the war waging in his mind. You should’ve pulled away. Should’ve cracked a joke, did something to break the tension, but you didn’t. You just watched him.

His breaths were shallow, slower now, his gaze fixed on yours in a way that made your stomach clench. The storm outside was deafening, rain pounding against the metal of the rover, but inside, everything felt still—like time had narrowed down to just this. Just him.

Your heart slammed against your ribs when Bellamy’s hand finally moved, sliding down from your arm to settle at your waist. His touch was barely there, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him. You didn’t stop him. His fingertips pressed lightly into your skin, an unspoken question hanging in the space between you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, could see the way his jaw tensed, like he was trying to talk himself out of whatever was about to happen.

And you? You were done pretending. Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you lifted a hand, fingers ghosting along his forearm before trailing up over his shoulder. Bellamy inhaled sharply, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t guarded.

He wanted this. Wanted you.

“Bell—”

He moved before you could say anything else. His forehead brushed against yours, the tip of his nose barely grazing yours as his breath fanned across your lips. Your skin still ached from the acid burns, but none of it mattered. Not when his hand tightened slightly at your waist. Not when you felt the weight of his body leaning closer, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Tell me to stop,” Bellamy murmured, voice low, rough.

You exhaled shakily, your fingers curling around the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to.”

And that was all it took, Bellamy closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a way that stole every thought from your mind. There was no hesitation anymore, no second-guessing—just heat.

His hand at your waist pulled you closer, his fingers sliding over your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your free hand tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and the quiet sound he made against your lips sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss deepened, slow and desperate all at once. Like neither of you could believe this was happening, but neither of you wanted it to stop. The storm raged on outside, but inside, all you could hear was the sound of your breaths mingling, the quiet, needy gasps escaping between kisses.

Bellamy pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead still pressed to yours. His eyes were darker now, filled with something intense, something he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his voice almost shaky.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, and for a split second, you could only stare at him, wide-eyed, breathless. But before you could even think of a response, his lips were back on yours—this time hungrier, more desperate.

A small gasp escaped you, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Bellamy’s hands slid up your sides, fingers splayed against your bare skin, warm and grounding. His grip tightened, like he was afraid you’d disappear, like he needed to make sure this was real.

You melted into him, your hands pressing against his chest before trailing up, curling around the back of his neck. He groaned softly against your lips, his body pressing closer, heat rolling off him despite the chill in the rover. And neither of you stopped, you couldn’t.

Bellamy’s hands tightened around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he couldn’t bear to let you go. You felt his heartbeat hammering against your palm where it rested on his chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

A soft whimper slipped from you as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and that was it. That was all it took. Before you knew it, you were shifting, moving without thinking, your knees pressing into cold metal as you climbed onto his lap. Bellamy barely had time to react before you were straddling him, your legs bracketing his hips, your chest pressed against his.

His breath hitched, but then his hands were gripping your waist, pulling you closer—like you weren’t already impossibly close. Like he still needed more.

“Shit,” he breathed against your lips, voice rough, almost wrecked. His hands slid up your sides, over the bare expanse of your back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. You shivered, but not from the cold.

Bellamy kissed you like he was starved for it, like this was something he’d been craving for so long that now that he had it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop.

You tangled your fingers in his damp curls, tugging him closer, and he groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter. The air between you grew thick, charged with something you’d both been holding back for far too long. A groan of satisfaction rumbles through his chest as you let out a small moan, having felt him hard beneath you.

His large hands glide up and gently cup your face, keeping you close as you start to gently rock your hips down onto his, testing the waters. A loud groan escapes Bellamy's lips as the friction was something he'd been needing. The next time you rolled your hips down, he quickly met you, thrusting his own hips up.

"That's it, fuck." Bellamy panted, the air inside the rover quickly turning into hot and thick. "Been dreaming about you since we first landed."

His words only filled the heat pooling in your core but before you could muster up enough strength to say anything else, you let out a yelp as your back hit the cold metal of the rover.

Bellamy's mouth was back on yours and he kiss you like he'd been starved. You sigh into the kiss as his hands trail down your body, mapping every inch of skin his fingers touch. As Bellamy plants messy kisses from your mouth, trailing down to your jaw, he finally lands at the soft skin of your neck. You let out a small moan as he sucks on the area he found the most sensitive, having found it surprisingly fast.

"Bell-" You try to tell him what you need but stop short as his hand cups your heat.

"So fucking wet for me already?" Bellamy's rasped, his breath sending a shiver down your spine as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

"Please, Bell-" you started to beg but let out a moan as Bellamy slipped his fingers past your soaked panties and slipped a finger inside you. The gasp that left your lips was quickly covered up by Bellamy's mouth attaching yours. And as if one finger wasn't enough he slipped the second in right after, both fingers worked in and out of your heat, causing sparks to shoot through your body. Your brows scrunched as you could feel the coil in your stomach heating up, waiting and begging to be released.

"God, you're so much tighter than I imagined." Bellamy breathed, "So perfect."

Your head lolled to the side as Bellamy attacked your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the sensitive areas.

"Come for me, baby." His gruff voice caused you to shiver, quickly rocking your hips down onto his hands for more friction. "Such a mess for me already. Can't wait to have you come around my cock."

His words sent you over the edge. A loud moan rips through the rover as he continues to help you ride out your high. You barely even caught your breath before the tip of his length was teasing you, causing a whimper to escape from your lips.

"Bell quit teasing, I need you inside me." You whined, causing a smirk to appear on Bellamy's lips.

"God, I love it when you beg." Bellamy admitted but didn't geive you enough time to make a sarcastic comment before he slowly thrust himself inside of you. You instantly let out a loan moan when he bottomed out. The feeling of him inside you was euphoric and his large hands gripped the sides of your thighs. You met him each time he thrusted into you, wanting nothing more than the delicious feeling to never end.

"I've wanted you for so long." Bellamy admitted, "ever since your sexy, sarcastic, and bossy self threatened my plans."

"Me too." You admitted, having remembered the first day on the ground when you and Bellamy stood toe to toe, exchanging insults and threats. The two of you absolutely despised each other.

Bellamy was trying to save him own ass at the time and you were trying to help Clarke keep the rest of the 100 alive. It didn't help that you were also Marcus Kane's daughter. "One of the privileged." As Bellamy put it. But quickly the two of you found common ground, setting aside your differences. Clarke was furious with you at first for trusting Bellamy but she too eventually realized that he wasn't a bad guy.

Bellamy let out some low growl, his pace picking up. "Such a good girl. Taking me so well. This pussy was made for me."

The words only spurred you on, grinding down on him as you started to moan his name over and over again in his ear. "I'm so close, Bell" You admitted, that familiar coil tightening in the base of your stomach.

"Come with me." Bellamy's hips met yours in a more sloppy, erratic pattern and you knew he was close too.

You moaned his name over and over again like a prayer as the coil finally snapped. Your walls clenched around Bellamy's dick as you came, causing his own orgasm to follow.

As the two of you finally came down from your highs, your breathing erratic as you tried to catch your breaths, Bellamy's forehead rested ontop of yours. As he finally caught his breath, he looked down at you. A soft smile spread across his lips and his eye lids stayed hooded. He felt drunk.

"I love you." Bellamy admitted, causing your breath to hitch.

Your eyes trailed over his face, watching as he kept his soft gaze on your swollen lips. Your eyes danced around his face memorizing each freckle littering his skin. "I love you too, Bell."

author’s note:

Yes, I am very aware of the fact that bell and the reader fucked instead of helping poor Talia out. For their sake let’s just say they ended up getting out and rescuing her, LMFAO.

Anyways, this was my very first Bellamy fic! Ahh! I’m so excited to post this! Bell was my very first tv/celeb crush and it’s kind of sentimental for me. He’s the reason I got into reading fanfics and now I’m writing them. CRAZY.

If you guys would like more Bellamy fics let me know! I’m excited to write for him!

Also, if you would like to be tagged please go to this link and fill out the form :)

my works

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

burning pt. 2 | b. blake

part one | masterlist

summary: season three — a daunting decision is to be made. multiple cups of grounder celebration juice, an arrogant bellamy blake, and a desire to prove oneself cause an inevitable outcome.

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

warnings (including all parts): alcohol consumption/intoxication, sensual dancing, jealousy, sexual desecration??, mild possessiveness, arguments, bellamy speaking in trigedaslang (giggling and kicking my feet), dialogue-heavy, manhandling, mild angst, smut, unprotected p in v (do not), reader is short because i’m short, deal with it <3

notes: THIS IS PART TWO OF FROM THE FLAMES!!

word count: 2.6k

No.

Way.

There was absolutely no way I was going to join a horde of drunken warriors dancing around a ten-foot-tall bonfire.

At least, that was what I had told Raven ten minutes ago.

Given the current position in which I was standing (which was just outside the crowd of dancers by a barrel containing a brew that I told myself was just really strong moonshine) and the alcohol oozing through my veins like sweet, molten honey, I think it’s safe to say that I had contradicted myself.

How many drinks had I had now? Two, three? Somewhere around there.

I wasn’t drunk, I swear. Although, I was certainly working my way towards being so. Raven had gently coerced—threatened—me into joining the raunchy dance circle. I had at first refused, but when she began to suggest telling Bellamy my ‘little secret’ if I didn’t do it myself, I reluctantly, very reluctantly, agreed.

So, that was that. I was going to dance. With Grounders. Around a bonfire. In front of Bellamy.

Hence, the drinks.

The only times I had ever danced were during parties back on the Ark, but those were so tame and regulated. This was vastly different. There were no rules, no sophistication, and certainly no guards keeping tabs on how close a girl danced with a boy. The latter was clear as day, taking the form of a couple dancing together a few feet in front of me.

A woman with dark, slicked-back braids and deep bronze skin pushed herself against her partner, a tall man with lengthy facial hair and spike-cuffed fists that must’ve been the size of my head. One of his hands was on her back, the other on her hip, ruching up her long skirt so that it exposed her thighs as she glided her chest up his torso. They grinded and swayed and flowed together in time with the pulsating beat.

Dread grappled me. I had to do that? How the hell do you dance like that in jeans and a tank top?

Through the ever-migrating crowd, I spotted Raven standing with Monty and Harper on the opposite side of the square. Of course, she had already been watching me the whole time. The fear on my face was unmistakable, yet she only sent an impatient nod of her head that said, “Get on with it already.”

If anything, you could always rely on Raven for her persistence.

“Christ, help me.” I plunged my cup into the barrel, fervently bringing its contents back to my lips and down my throat.

“Didn’t take you for a religious one,” came a deep voice from behind me.

I swivelled around, my cup still craned to my lips, and found the incentive for my drinking habits standing before me.

Bellamy.

Gracelessly, I choked as a much too-large mouthful of liquid streamed down my throat. My innards recoiled in on themselves. “Bellamy,” I said, attempting to compose myself. “Hi.” Unfortunately, the abhorrent aftertaste still lurked on my tongue, causing my expression to sour into one of disgust. “God—makes moonshine seem like apple juice.”

Apparently, he found this amusing. A hum of a chuckle bobbed in his throat. “Looks like you’re enjoying the party then.”

A few variations of how I wanted to reply: “I wasn’t until you started talking to me,” “Not really, but if you take me into a back alley right now, I might,” and, just a plain and simple, “I need you.”

What I really said: “Oh, yeah, I’m having a great time. You meet this guy?” I patted the barrel behind me. “Really supportive. We’re becoming good friends.”

He nodded, eyeing me with a quizzical smirk. “I can see that. Maybe you should branch out a bit. Have you met the one called Water yet?”

“You’re funny.”

“Alcohol tends to have that effect on me,” he said, and I laughed. His freckled cheeks rounded into apples and his teeth made a rare appearance; he looked away as if to hide his smile, as if Bellamy Blake couldn’t possibly be anything but serious and brooding. He’s kept my secret; I’ll keep his.

We both observed the crowd and the fire as a new song began to play, standing comfortably, wordlessly, side by side. Maybe ‘wordlessly’ was a bit of a stretch—there was a magnitude of words filling my mind, especially when he began unzipping his jacket and shrugging it off to expose his contoured arms to the fire’s fervour.

His arms…

“How many drinks have you had?”

I blinked. “What?”

He stared at me with a mischievous glint in his eye, draping his jacket on an unlit makeshift barbeque. “I said, what do you think of all this?”

The veil of lust-ridden (let’s call it what it was) fog lifted from my mind, and my brows creased deeply as I attempted to piece together what he was talking about. It took me a few belated seconds before I realized he had been referring to the Grounders and Sky People uniting as one people. I could hardly contain an idiotic smile from breaching my lips—my opinion was important to him.

“It’s—well,” I stammered, “it’s different.” It’s different? If only he knew how badly I wanted to club myself with a brick at that moment. Despite my obvious mental stagnation, he expressed nothing but patience, waiting with a visible longing for my input. So, I tried again, slowly working around the alcohol and shrewd blockages in my brain. “Honestly? It scares me. Their first impression of us was that we were cold-blooded killers and ours of them was the exact same. Ever since we hit the ground, we’ve been at each other’s throats; we’ve all committed so many acts of war.

“I’m scared of how fragile this peace is, how one tiny mistake could lead to the annihilation of our kind or theirs, or even both.” Bellamy watched me with silent contemplation. I continued, “And I’m scared if this peace does break, you’ll be on the front-lines because I know you’ll refuse to be anywhere else. And I know you and I tend to… disagree more often than not, but if you were to die—” I looked down, bashfully scrutinising the toes of my boots “—I think I’d be lost.”

He didn’t speak. He didn’t move. I immediately wished to snatch the words my loosened tongue had released and shove them back down my throat. His silence was writhing excruciatingly through the air, surrounding us like a constricting serpent.

Say something, Bellamy. Say anything.

“I think I’d feel the same,” he finally spoke, and the relief I felt was instant. I looked up at him. His pupils were bowls of sweet melted chocolate as he cocked his head to the side. “What would I do without my favourite sparring partner?”

My heart soared.

My favourite sparring partner.

Favourite.

So much for not smiling like an absolute idiot. I could only pray the fire’s orange light masked the jeopardising tinge of my cheeks, though there was nothing I could do about my blatant staring. Maybe it would have been embarrassing if I were the only one, but Bellamy had the same problem.

Someone seemed to hit ‘pause’on time.

The blood in my veins moved like a tranquil river; my heart expanded and subdued with each slow beat. The voices and bodies around us blurred into one big mass of nothing. All that seemed to be moving was the music drifting down towards us from the tower and Bellamy’s face, which was leaning closer in microscopic intervals, almost unnoticeably. But I noticed.

And then the bonfire roared with a loud crack.

Voices mingled. Bodies shuffled. Time restarted.

Bellamy cleared his throat and looked away, just as I began inspecting the cup in my hand. What was in that stuff? It was supposed to give me the confidence to dance in front of him; he ruined—a term I’ll use loosely—my plans by greeting me directly, so now I was just tipsy for no good reason.

At least now I didn’t have to join a wanton circle of dancing grounders.

Wait.

Was Bellamy going to kiss me?

“Didn’t think I’d see a grounder mating ritual tonight,” muttered Bellamy as he watched the scene with crossed, disapproving arms. The light spirit he had been in before had obviously been overthrown by his usual brooding nature. Funny that—that his mood only soured after hemade it seem like he was going to…

You know.

I turned towards the crowd, away from him (and his damning muscular arms that bulged impossibly over his chest). “You don’t approve?” I asked flatly. His sudden detachment had pissed me right off. “Everyone,” I addressed the partygoers in a hushed tone only Bellamy could hear, “stop dancing right now. Bellamy Blake doesn’t approve of fun.”

“I didn’t say that,” he countered.

“Then go dance.”

“I don’t dance.”

For the second time that night, I contradicted myself. “Well, I do.”

Now that regained his attention. I could see him staring at me in my peripheral vision.

“Right,” he scoffed. “You’re gonna dance.”

Ouch.

His words struck a chord deep inside me, causing my expression to wilt into something defensive. My arms folded promptly over my chest and I turned to stare him down. “Is it so unimaginable?”

“I just can’t picture you dancing,” he spoke with an arrogant grin, as if his viewpoint originated from the truth and mattered above all else.

It was moments like this one that pushed me to judge whether I should indulge in my attraction to Bellamy. Maybe it was the booze talking, but I really just wanted to slap him across the face. If not literally, then maybe figuratively, by proving him wrong.

I’d had this problem ever since I met him: he would tell me to do one thing, and I’d do the complete opposite; it felt like an unspoken rule at this point. Which led me to my next decision.

My arms dropped to my sides. “Good thing you won’t have to in a minute,” I snapped.

I began making for the bonfire and dancers, each of my curt steps fuelled by spite and a chemically altered brain. I just can’t picture you dancing. Yeah, right. I’d give him something to picture, the smug asshole.

“Hey.” A large hand caught my wrist, pulling me back half a step so I that had to stop.

I shot a fiery warning over my shoulder. Bellamy’s eyes reflected regret and a touch of submission; he knew it had been the wrong move and immediately let go of my arm, withdrawing half a step himself in placation.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he spoke cautiously like I was a spooked animal about to attack. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Well, you did upset me.���

“Princess, I—"

I whirled around on my toes and we came face-to-face (well, face-to-collarbone). The swiftness of my actions must’ve caught him off-guard because he cut himself short mid-sentence and the bulge of his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously in his throat.

The scorching intensity of my gaze was pointed directly up at him now, just daring him to speak another word. He didn’t. His mouth had set into a hard, impenetrable line that represented his oath of silence. It was a smart choice, but, god, he had gotten me so riled up that whether he was smart no longer mattered.

I just couldn’t help myself.

The gap between us shortened as I took a smooth step forward, keeping us connected by the eyes. A challenge in the form of a scornful smile broke across my lips. “No leaning in this time, huh?” I spoke.

Bellamy’s eyes twitched into squints, his jaw clenching in unison. It was strange how he took offence to being called out on something he had done—a common trait in those affected by frequently un-called-out arrogance, no doubt. I’d have to start helping him out with that.

A bomb was ticking beneath his skin and I knew firsthand how short the fuse was. Subconsciously, I think I wanted to blow it. Subconsciously, I think I enjoyed it: the arguing, the tension, the heat. I enjoyed how we knew exactly what set each other off and how intimate knowing such information about one another was. I enjoyed getting in his face and him getting in mine.

I enjoyed the moments when it would become blatantly obvious that the tension between us never originated from a place of hate or malice, but from somewhere deeper, fleshier.

Or was I so impaired that it was really just me?

Thoughts calculated behind his hooded gaze—of hate, of malice, of flesh, I wasn’t sure. And just when I thought he wasn’t going to reply at all, his neck hollowed with a deep inhale, and he leaned down to my height. My heart dropped to an unspeakable place. His breath was hot on the tip of my ear, “Did you want me to lean in?”

I stared at his shoulder, trying to conceal the shiver trickling down my neck and over my breasts and much, much further below. He lingered in place for a half-second longer before returning to full height. Can you guess the shape his lips made as he scanned my perplexed expression? It’s not difficult.

I was going to slap him. Not out of dislike: but because how dare he make me want him so badly? And in front of so many people? And without even knowing that I actually did want him and it wasn’t just the alcohol that was making us both sexually frustrated?

I swear to god I was going to slap him. My hand flexed, but before I could act, the universe made evident that it was on Bellamy’s side.

The sudden bellow of horns signalled a change of song. Our attention was dragged away from one another, turning to the celebratory howls and shouts echoing between those surrounding the bonfire. The flames had exploded to new heights as someone fed more wood to the base. It burned so brightly, so dangerously that if I didn’t know any better, I’d have mistaken it for a god.

The horns vibrated in the air, repeating over and over as more instruments were introduced to create something dark and haunting. Slowly, I began to smile. I knew what I was going to do now, and it certainly wasn’t slapping the smirk off of Bellamy Blake’s face.

“Sorry, Blake,” I voiced over the music. We were looking at each other now; somehow in those ten seconds we were distracted I must’ve sucked him dry of pride and consumed it myself, because I now wore the smirk, and he wore the confusion. One last time, I downed a gulp of my drink and said, “Places to be.”

And then I was gone, heading straight for the crowd of orange-skinned dancers, slick, sweating bodies, and pulsating horns. I’d hoped that last drink would kick in fast, especially if Bellamy’s eyes were to be as vigilant as ever.

part three {to be written}

[devsblurbs]

I would like to request 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️ (bellamy x reader)

Okay, hear me out. Best friends to lovers..I’m thinking something along the lines of either the reader gets hurt or Bell gets jealous somehow and it ends in smut ✨

Not picky ab plot or what season (prolly 1-4 tho ngl) but just those tropes pretty please 🩷

Jealousy, Jealousy—B. Blake

A/n: I love this idea yes yes yes, Bellamy getting jealous and finally having enough and just snapping and giving in to what he really wants? Yes please.

Summary - Bellamy and reader have been best friends since coming to the ground, and for a while that was enough for him. Until she starts hanging around Murphy a little too much, he gets jealous and finally snaps.

Warnings - 18+ MDNI , smut , unprotected sex , strong language , choking , cowgirl , use of praise , degrading

Word count - 5.5k

Bellamy Blake should’ve lost his mind a long time ago, from the moment he’d arrived on the ground he’d been met with one hardship after another. Constantly dealing with a battle in his mind against what was right, or what was wrong. The responsibilities he held should’ve crushed him, but they didn’t, because of her.

Y/n, she’d been the steady hand, the voice of reason, the one who kept his mind held together when the chaos of survival threatened to tear him apart. She was his anchor, keeping him grounded when he needed it most. She was never afraid of speaking her mind to him, keeping him in check, steering him on the right path, always assuring him he was doing his best. She was the one person who could keep up with his plans, challenge him when needed, and still make him laugh after a long day.

In return, Bellamy was the reason she felt safe. She found comfort in knowing he was around, she knew if it came to it he’d do whatever he could to protect her. It wasn’t a one sided thing, they were both there for each other however they could be. They weren’t just best friends, they were two halves of the same whole.

While he carried the weight of leadership and responsibility, she carried light–a warmth that reminded him why survival mattered at all. They had built a life together on this unpredictable earth, keeping each other grounded as they navigated its relentless dangers of the unseen terrain before them.

They were always together, and neither of them would have it any other way. Their friendship was an unbreakable bond, so strong not even the toughest of knives could splice it. They shared everything with each other– Meals, secrets they dare not tell anyone else, long late night conversations by the fire just relishing in each other's company. He trusted her in a way that he gave to no one else, just her. She was his rock, his person, the one he could count on no matter what happened. For a long time, that was enough.

But then came Murphy.

He had always been a huge thorn in Bellamy’s side– Sarcastic, selfish, and unpredictable. Murphy always found a way to cause some sort of problem that Bellamy would have to remedy, and he only ever thought of himself when making decisions.

When Murphy started spending more time around, Y/n, Bellamy simply brushed it off. She was kind to everyone, even to people who didn’t deserve it, it’s just who she was as a person. That was one of things he had always admired about her, and who was he to stop her from making friends?

But aside from all that, he couldn’t help the way his stomach churned when he saw them together. He began noticing every little subtle thing, the way she laughed a little louder when Murphy was around, the way they stood too close for comfort, their heads bent together in whispered conversations, and the way her smile would linger just a fraction of a second too long while looking at him for Bellamy’s liking.

He was supposed to be the one making her smile like that, not him. He hated the way they were with each other, always laughing as if they knew something no one else did. Constantly going off with each other for hours at a time, to scout or collect supplies. Why didn’t she just ask him? Why did it have to be Murphy, it made his blood boil. The more these little interactions happened the harder it got for him to keep his mouth shut, he’d just watch from a distance, a scowl painting his freckled face as he kept his jaw clenched shut.

Tonight was no different.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the camp was alive with the distant hum of chatter, the crackling of the evening fire, and the rhythmic clinking of tools as the last of the day's chores wrapped up. Bellamy leaned against a makeshift table, his dark brown eyes scanning the camp for her–Y/n. She was late, something that had become a regular occurrence over the past few days, she would come back late, with Murphy, which he assumed would be the case tonight.

Sure enough, his gaze locked on her familiar silhouette near the supply tent. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, a sound that usually brought him peace. But right now in this very moment, it grated his nerves, that laugh was meant for his ears and his ears alone. Murphy stood beside her, his trademark smirk plastered across his face as he said something that made her throw her head back in laughter.

His jaw tightened, his fists clenching around the corners of the table. He didn’t know why her being with him angered him so much, or why it made him so jealous, but he couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled up inside of him. She was his person, they’d been through everything together–landing on the ground, fighting to survive, building this new fragile life, defending him when no one else would. She was the one person who knew him better than anyone else, one that could see past his rough, commanding facade to the man beneath. And now, she was spending all her freetime with Murphy?

“Hey, you good?” Raven spoke out, he was a bit startled at first, so lost in his jealous thoughts he hadn’t even noticed her approaching him.

“Fine.” He muttered, his gaze still locked onto Y/n and Murphy, afraid that if he’d look away something would happen.

Raven followed his line of sight, and smirked at him almost as if she knew something he didn’t. “Uh-huh, sure.. You look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”

She could clearly tell why Bellamy was upset, even if he was too naive to realize it himself. Anyone with a brain could see the way he pined after her, but his mind was too stubborn and clouded to realize it, he was simply just stuck in a jealous haze.

He simply grunted, pushing off the table to get away from Raven, he wasn’t in the mood. Before he could even think, he was striding over to the supply tent where the two were standing. There was just something in the air tonight, something strong, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.

Y/n noticed him first, her eyes lighting up in a way that always made his chest tighten. “Bells!” She waved at him, “Where've you been? Murphy and I were just–”

“I see that,” He interrupted, his voice sharp. His eyes flickered towards Murphy, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Her smile faltered, clearly confused at where this sudden attitude had come from, to her knowledge she hadn’t done anything wrong. But the jealousy that clouded his mind told him otherwise.

“What’s your problem?” She asked skeptically, wanting to know why he was so upset.

“My problem?” He finally snapped, stepping closer, finally not able to hold back how he’d been feeling, “My problem is you spending all your time with him.” He gestured to Murphy, who let out a low whistle.

“Well, this just got interesting. I’ll leave you two to sort out whatever this is.” With a mock salute, he sauntered away, not wanting to get involved in whatever heated argument that was to follow.

Y/n and Bellamy stood there, a tense silence covering the air around them.She crossed her arms, her expression sifting from confusion to annoyance. “What the hell, Bellamy? What’s your deal?”

“My deal? He’s not exactly the most trustworthy person to be hanging around.” He said, truth be told though even if he was, he’d probably still be just as pissed.

She simply rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, he’s trying. You of all people should understand that people can change.”

“That’s not the goddamn point!” He barked.

“Then what is?” She shot back, her voice rising, “Because from where I’m standing, it just looks like you're pissed I’m spending time with someone else, you can’t expect me to spend all my time with you!”

He froze, the words hit him like a punch to the gut, settling uneasily into his stomach. She wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t admit that–not to her, not to himself. But deep down, he wanted to snap out that she was his girl, not Murphy’s. He wanted her to spend all her time with him and him alone, he wanted her to himself.

He didn’t say anything else, his chest heaved, his emotions teetering on a razor’s edge as he stared at her. Her words echoing in his head, his fists clenched, the raw swirl of jealousy and fear consuming him like a raging out of control fire. Without thinking, without weighing the consequences, something inside of him snapped.

He reached for her, grabbing her arm tightly with one singular fluid motion.

“Bellamy–” She began, but her words were cut short as he pulled her towards his tent with determined strides. His grip was tight, but not enough to hurt her, though the intensity and fire in his eyes was enough to send a shock through her.

“What are you doing?” She practically demanded, her voice tinged with confusion, and touch of anger still blistering within her, but he didn’t answer.

He shoved open the flap of his tent, yanking her inside, before releasing her wrist. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that was thick and suffocating, weighing both of them down heavily.

“Bells, talk to me,” She tried again, her voice slightly softer now, almost pleading. But instead of talking, he closed the space between them, in a single step, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch in her throat.

His voice of reason went out of the window, he didn’t care about anything anymore, not what would happen after this, not about Murphy, he just wanted her. His lips crashed onto hers, it wasn’t gentle, nor hesitant. It was raw, unrestrained, and desperate, as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His hands framed her face, his fingers threading into her hair as he poured every ounce of frustration, jealousy, and something deeper- something terrifying real, some unspoken emotion he’d been hiding away–into that kiss.

She froze, her mind reeling. This was Bellamy, her best friend, the person she trusted more than anyone, and he was kissing her. Her mind ran wild with thoughts, was this why he had been so jealous?

She felt the tension in his grip, the way his body seemed to hold hers as if to say, ‘You’re mind.’ It wasn’t just passion– there was a hint of fear there too, a fear of losing her, of being left behind. Slowly her hands trailed up his chest, not to push him away, but to steady herself as her lips met his slowly beginning to show the same yearning back.

When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, forehead resting against hers as he struggled to find the right words. The kiss had conveyed all the emotions his voice never could, and now he struggled to get them out.

“I can’t do this anymore,” He murmured, his voice hoarse, “I can’t stand watching you with him, Y/n. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with it.”

Her eyes stared up into his, “Bellamy..”

“I know I’m being selfish,” He continued, “But I don’t give a fuck anymore, I can’t keep trying to tell myself that I don’t want you all to myself.”

She swallowed at that, her heart beat picking up as he spoke to her, his voice raw with emotion. His hand was on her hip, his grip possessively screaming that she was his, and he looked down at her with a type of fire that had her stomach doing somersaults. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding her chest so hard she was certain he could hear it. The intensity of his words, the raw emotion in his voice, and the lingering taste of his lips on hers had shattered the delicate walls built between them. She had told herself for so long that they were just friends, trying so hard to convince herself of that. She had no idea until now that he was in turn doing the same thing, they both yearned for each other deep down but locked it away.

“Bell,” She whispered, her voice soft, and smooth.

His hand still possessively held her hip, as his other came up to hold her face in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to say something, anything.

But words didn’t come out of her throat, instead she surged forward, closing the distance between them once more. Her lips met his in another kiss, this one more heated than the last. It was rough, and passionate–a release of all the pent up emotions the two had. Her hands clutched his shirt, gripping it tightly, almost afraid that if she were to let go he’d disappear.

He was stunned by her sudden move for a moment, before a low guttural sound escaped his lips. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her against her as closely as he could, anchoring her to him as though she might slip away.

She pressed closer to him, her body molding into hers like a puzzle piece, her heart racing as she poured everything she couldn’t say into the kiss. Every stolen glance, every moment she had pretended to not care for him like this–it was all there, laid out bare within the kiss.

When they finally broke apart for the second time, both of them were breathing hard, foreheads resting against each other, the air thick with the tension and heat between them.

“Y/n..” He rasped, his voice low and unsteady.

She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with emotion, “You’re not the only one who’s been bottling up emotions.” She finally admitted, the words leaving her lips almost lifted a weight off her shoulders that she didn’t know was there.

His hands cupped her face once more, the pad of his thumb brushing against her now swollen bottom lip, a type of heat stirring inside of her stomach as he did this, “And now?”

“I don’t care anymore, I’m tired of pretending, tired of holding back..I want this Bell, I want you.” Her voice soft, like a melody to his ears.

His breath hitched, the tension around them electric, all of their feelings laid out in the open now. Unspoken hunger aired out around them that neither of them could deny any longer. Her hands lingered on his chest, her fingers tracing lines of his muscles through his shirt, igniting his skin with sparks. She felt his heartbeat–strong, steady, and quick beneath her slander fingertips.

He lightly gripped her chin, leaning in, his lips captured hers again in another deep feverish kiss. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle into his messy curls, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more desperate.

Without breaking their lips apart, his hands slid to her waist, his strong grip lifting her effortlessly. She gasped softly against his lips as he guided her onto his lap, her legs straddling him as he settled her against him on the small bed.

Her breath hitched as her knees sank down into the bed on either side of him, feeling him through his jeans against her. His hands found her hips, gripping them roughly, holding her down onto him. His lips found hers again, more urgent this time, one of his hands sliding up the small of her back, and under her shirt onto her bare skin, causing a shiver to radiate through her body. The other slid into her hair, tilting her head back slightly to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into her like he couldn’t get enough of her.

She let out a small moan, the sound muffled against his lips, and he groaned back in response, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. The world outside the tent faded away, the jealousy faded away, all that mattered was he had her in his lap now, she was all his.

His lips left hers to trail along her jawline, pressing hot, open-mouthed kissing down the column her neck. She tilted her head back, her fingers tightening in his fair as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, drawing soft whines from her lips.

“Bell,” She whispered, a slight tremble in her breathless voice.

He pulled back a bit, his dark eyes meeting hers, blazing with a lustful fire. “Say it again,” He murmured, his voice like a low growl, laced with a possessiveness that had her knees going weak.

“Bell.” She repeated, in a small whimper, her cheeks flushed.

His hands slid down to her hips, gripping them tightly, the fire between them growing hotter. It consumed every lingering doubt, and every ounce of hesitation.

His hands moved, sliding them under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her soft skin on his calloused fingers. Her breath hitched at the contact, her body arching into him instinctively. His lips found her neck again, trailing soft kisses and bites down her collar bone.

His hands gripped the hem of her shirt, tugging it upward in one swift motion. She lifted her arms up, letting him pull it off fully. He tossed it aside without a second thought, his eyesing trailing up and down her bare torso. The way he looked at her–hungry, reverent, possessive–made her heart race, a fierce pool of heat pooling in her stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.

Her lips parted to respond, but before she could speak, his hands gripped her waist again, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers again. The kiss was desperate, fierce, as if trying to claim her completely as his.

His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline, her neck, her shoulders, and in between her breasts. He kissed every inch of skin that he could reach, his teeth grazing against her occasionally, leaving small marks to stake his claim. Her head was tilted back, soft moans leaving her lips relishing in the pleasure that just his lips left her with.

“You’re mine,” He growled against her chest, his voice low and fierce. His hands tightened around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.

Her breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity of his voice sending a thrill through her. The way her chest heaved, and she stared at him with a type of need seemed to ignite something inside of him. His lips crashed against hers again with a new found urgency, his kisses were demanding, rough, leaving her breathless in his arms.

She felt his hands exploring her body, tracing the curve of her waist, down the line of her spine. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she matched his passion, her own desire overwhelming her.

His lips left hers to trail hot kisses down her chest, his hands going up to knead her breasts in between his fingers.Each touch of his lips sent a shiver up her spine, and she could feel the tension in his body, the sheer force of his restraint as tried to hold himself back.

“Bell..” His name left her lips again, a soft whine, almost like a prayer, her voice barely audible.

He pulled back a little, his hands framing her face as he stared into her eyes, a sheer dark force of lust behind them, “Tell me you’re mine, love.” He demanded, his voice low, and commanding. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.

“ ‘m yours, always.” Her gaze met his with half lidded eyes as she spoke.

He bit his lip, hearing her say that she was setting off something almost primal within him. A low growl caught in his throat, as his fingers gripped her and held her close on his lap. She in turn reached for his shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly. She tugged at it, her breath catching her throat as he pulled back just enough to help her. In one motion, he threw it off, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders.

Her gaze lingered, taking in every detail–the taut muscles, the faint scars etched into his skin, and the way his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. Tentatively, her fingers traced down from his chest, to his shoulders, right to his defined v-line just for a moment, before going back up to rest on his chest.

His eyes burned into hers, his lips quirking into a small, almost smug smile at her touch. “Like what you see, princess?” He teased, his voice a low rumble.

She rolled her eyes playfully, humming a yes, fingers trailing over his skin as she did so. He smirked, leaning in to capture her lips again, but this time his hands moved up, brushing her sides before settling on her chest. Taking her nipples in between his fingers, and toying with them. She couldn’t stop the breathy sound that escaped her lips, or the way her hips instinctively ground against his needily.

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning softly, his fingers gripping her softly from the friction of her hips. He chuckled low in his throat, the sound deep and teasing.

“So sensitive.” He mumbled, clearly amused.

She didn’t have time to respond before he shifted his grip, hands sliding to grab her hips. With a deliberate slowness, he guided her movements, pressing her down against his hard on. The friction caused another gasp from her, and a low moan to come from his throat.

“Fuck–” She cursed under her breath, the feeling of him grinding against her was driving her mad, it was slow and teasing. Giving her a little bit of pleasure, but not truly giving her what she wanted or rather what she needed.

He grinned, his hands tightening against her hips, pushing her down against him a little more. His eyes sparkling mischievously as she seemed to get a bit frustrated, “What’s the matter hm? Someones a little worked up.”

She let out a soft whine, trying to move against him more, but his firm grip prevented her from doing so. She was getting needy, and impatient, “Quit teasing.”

He chuckled again, rolling his hips against hers a bit, “But where's the fun in that?”

She huffed out, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea.

“Tell me what you want.” He leaned in whispering into her ear, his voice low and gravely in her ear.

She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing even deeper, “You.. I want you, please Bell.” She pleaded with him, her chest heaving.

His smirk only grew darker as her breathless pleas filled the air, the way her voice trembled, the way she was all needy for him. “That’s all I needed to hear,” He murmured, satisfied with her begging.

With one last lingering kiss, he gently shifted her off his lap, his hands sliding down her sides as he did. She whimpered softly at the loss of contact, her hands instinctively reaching for him. But he only smirked, standing to his full height as he looked down at her, the dim candle light casting shadows across his broad, muscular frame.

Her lips went to open to say something, but the words caught in her throat as he reached for the button of his jeans. He popped it open, dragging down the zipper slowly, teasingly, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed, her heart pounding as she watched him push the fabric down his hips, tossing them to the side.

He stood there for a moment, letting her take him in, his toned body practically glowing in the soft light. Her gaze swept over him, her breathing erratic, her cheeks painted a deep shade of red.

“Someone's drooling over there,” He teased, “Practically over there eye fucking me.” A low chuckle left his lips, clearly amused with the way she stared at him like he was some kind of Greek god.

She rolled her eyes despite her obvious flustered state, but she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from this god-like man in front of him. The way sweat dripped down his toned chest, the way his hard length was right in front of her, “You’re insufferable.” She muttered playfully, her voice lacking any real heat.

He chuckled, his lips leaning down to capture hers in a quick but heated kiss, “And you’re staring.” He shot back, tone laced with amusement.

Before she could retort, his hands moved down to the waistband of her pants. His rough thick fingers brushing against her skin, pulling a soft whine from her lips as he hooked them under the fabric pulling them down, hands grazing her thighs as he did. He then tossed them to the side with the rest of their discarded clothes.

He straightened back up, taking his turn in looking her over. His eyes holding a mixture of hunger and reverence in them as he drank in her appearance, “So fuckin’ perfect.” He said softly, voice filled with awe.

He didn’t say anything else, climbing back onto the bed, he settled himself down. His arms reached out to guide her back onto his lap, his cock resting against her stomach, not giving it to her just yet. He could tell just how desperate she was, how needy she was for him. The way she clung to him, the quiet needy whimpers falling from her lips, the way her heavy-lidded eyes stared at his.

“You want my cock that bad hm?” He asked, his voice low and rough.

She whimpered in response, gripping his shoulders tightly, her chest heaving, her swollen lips parted slightly, her mind clouded over with need, and desperation.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk, “Tell me how bad you want this dick.” He mused, finger swiping over her bottom lip.

She flushed, her cheeks burning as she squirmed against him, desperate for him, “Want you so bad..” Her voice barely above a whisper.

“Not good enough,” He murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against her ear, “Beg for it, show me how badly you need me.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated, her pride waiting with the overwhelming desire to feel him inside of her. But with the way he was looking at her, the way his hands held down, the way his cock rested against her stomach so close to her but not inside of her was driving her insane.

“Please, Bell,” She broke, her voice trembling, “I need you, please–just fuck me please.” She stammered out.

He groaned softly, her words hitting him like a tidal wave. He leaned back, his dark eyes fixated onto hers, “That’s my good girl,” He said, his fingers sliding into her mouth. She took the hint, swirling her tongue around them, making popping sounds as he pulled them out.

“Such a needy slut for me aren’t you?” He mumbled, he had heard everything he needed to hear and he couldn't hold himself back anymore.

With a swift move, he lifted her hips up, sliding her down onto his cock slowly, bringing a sharp moan from her lips. The way he stretched her, and filled her already had her eyes rolling back. For a moment, he held her in place, making her savor it, savor him. But it didn’t last long, the way she was gripping him was driving him wild, gripping her hips she helped her start moving up and down at a slow steady pace.

“Gripping me so hard love, this pussys so greedy for me huh?” He mumbled, his head tilting back a little, a soft groan leaving her lips.

The slow pace didn’t last long though, his control snapping with the soft whimpers and whines that left her lips. The sight of her already completely undone even with the slow pace had him losing his mind, he did that to her, she was this much of a mess on his cock already.

His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto him sharply, roughly. Her hands holding onto his shoulders to steady herself as he drilled up into her, her head falling into the crook of his neck, unrestrained cries of his name falling from her lips.

“That feel good?” He growled, his voice low and possessive as he held her firmly, moving her hips up and down onto his cock, “You’re all fucking mine, princess. Every. Single. Part.”

Her fingers clung to his shoulders, her body trembling under his touch, her mind fogged over, she was a mess of moans and whines.

“This pussy? All fuckin’ mine, it was made for this cock.” He mumbled, thrusting up into her fiercely.

His eyes burned with an almost feral intensity as he watched her, completely intrapped with the way she looked bouncing up and down on his cock, the way her hair was a mess, the way her breasts bounced. He was completely lost in her, and she was lost in him.

“Say it,” He demanded, his hand going up to grip her throat roughly, “Tell me this pussy is mine.” His voice commanded as he snapped his hips into her roughly, making her cry out again.

“Fuck– all yours, pussys all yours!” She stammered out breathlessly.

His lips crashed against hers, silencing her cries, kissing her with such ferocity. One hand tangled into her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, while the other stayed on her hips helping guide her movements with a roughness that left no doubts of her claim over her.

“You drive me insane,” He muttered against her lips, “No one else gets to touch you like this, you hear me? Just me.”

She nodded quickly, eyes squeezed shut as crores continued to spill from her lips, “Just–you.”

Her words sent a wave of satisfaction through him, and he groaned, burying his face into her neck, each motion of his hips drawing more and more cries from he lips. “That’s my girl,” He growled, “Taking me so well.”

Their bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, driven by an overwhelming need. His hands were everywhere–gripping, guiding, pulling her closer as she melted into him. Sweat dripped down their bodies, her breasts bouncing with every move.

Her breaths were shallow, each one coming out in a gasp or a sharp whine as she bounced her hips on him, desperate for more.Her fingers scratched at his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. Her legs trembled, and his movements got sloppier.

“I can’t–can’t hold on much longer.” She whined out, throwing her head back.

He kept snapping his hips into hers, “I’ve got you love.”

His hands held her, pulling her up and pushing her down as he rutted his hips up, panting, desperately chasing his own release.

“Wanna cum for me, pretty girl?” He whispered in his ear, his movements still at their relentless pace, “Go on, make a mess for me.”

She did, her eyes rolling back, sharp cries of his name falling from her lips like a prayer, as her whole body tightened and trembled against him. He wasn’t long after, groans falling from his lips, pulling out and shooting hot ropes of cum all over her stomach.

Both of them panting, foreheads pressed together as they collected themselves.

“You’re so beautiful..” He murmured, taking her disheveled appearance in. Purple bruises, swollen lips, messy hair, he claimed her in every way that he could.

She chuckled softly, her body still trembling a bit as he cleaned off her stomach. After he was done, he laid them both down onto the bed, his arm protectively wrapped around her.

“You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, holding her head against his bare chest.

“All yours, though if getting you jealous means you’re gonna fuck me like this maybe I’ll have to do it more often.” She joked, and he only playfully rolled his eyes.

Things were different now, all of those unsaid emotions were out. There was no need for jealousy anymore, he made sure she knew that she was his and his alone.

[petertingle-yipyip]

I WISH I HATED YOU - BELLAMY BLAKE

//is this probably a hot mess and ooc? yes. but it’s also self indulgent so just enjoy new content okay 🤷‍♀️//

Pairing: Bellamy x Reader

Word Count: 1,617

Summary: After being arrested for speaking out, you get a chance to tell Bellamy basically everything on your mind.

After Bellamy and Clarke got everyone out of Mount Weather, you had stayed close with him. You went on runs with him, trained with him, and even helped him through the guilt of pulling the lever. You talked him through losing Gina.

Or at least you had thought you helped with it all.

When you saw him walk through the gates with Pike’s firing squad, your heart sank. You had just let yourself believe you cared about him, maybe even loved him. You sat by and watched him with Gina because him being happy seemed to be more important to you. And yet, there he was, covered in blood from an army that was supposed to protect your people.

Pike was in the middle of his speech about doing what needed to be done when you met Bellamy’s eyes.

Something in that look compelled you to speak up. You knew he wasn’t asking it of you but you felt you had to.

“We execute our own now?” You shouted, part of you hoping your voice would be buried in the crowd. But judging by the new expression Bellamy wore, you were heard loud and clear.

“What kind of Chancellor doesn’t let his people speak up?” You continued and a small group cleared out around you and you felt an imaginary spotlight on you. “I remember learning there used to be a right to free speech in the States.”

“There’s a difference between speaking your opinion and pushing propaganda, Y/N.” Pike answered and you didn’t miss the condescension in his words.

“What do you call what you’re doing?”

“Y/N.” Bellamy warned.

You hadn’t noticed he had gotten to your side.

“No.” You said firmly. “Trikru has become our allies.”

“Your ‘allies’ abandoned you in that mountain! They left you to die!”

“You’re no better!” You shouted. “You’re willing to kill us if we don’t agree with you! You just threatened all of us!”

A hand gripped your arm.

“None of you are in any danger from your own people.” He said with a disbelieving laugh. You took an angry step forward but were pulled back by the hand at your arm that you hadn’t connected to a person yet. “I am going to keep all of you safe.”

“You’re a murderer.” You said confidently. “You’ve turned the people who went with you out there-“ You looked towards the gate and realized it was Bellamy who had your arm. You didn’t look away from him. “-into murderers.”

“Don’t do this.” Bellamy said quietly, desperately almost.

“If you’re gonna do this…” You nodded towards your restricted limb. “I have to do this.”

You turned back to face Pike.

“Lincoln risked his life to help us at Mount Weather. Indra has fought by our side. The Commander has gone out of her way to welcome us into her coalition, to offer protection from the clans that hate us! Now-“ You tried to gesture but Bellamy kept your arm down. “Dammit, Blake.” You grumbled. “Now every clan wants us dead!”

“All the more reason for us to fight back!” Pike yelled.

“We wouldn’t need to fight if you hadn’t-“

“Enough!” Pike interrupted and you heard a small eruption of mumbles from the crowd. It seemed to you like some opinions were shifting. “Take her away.”

Bellamy pulled you slightly and grabbed your other arm. He locked both wrists in cuffs behind your back and led you to the detainment. You kept your head up, saying nothing as Bellamy practically dragged you down several hallways.

There were no guards posted so Bellamy released your cuffs when you were within the alleged cell but didn’t leave. He stood in the doorway instead while you sat on the lone bench. The set of his jaw, heavy sigh that moved his shoulders, and cross of his arms told you all you needed.

“You want to say something.” You spoke plainly. Any edge in your voice from before had softened.

Everything in you softened around Bellamy, even if he didn’t seem too much like your Bellamy anymore. If he ever was yours to begin with.

“Just say it, Bellamy.” You sighed and rubbed your eyes. “I’m sure Pike doesn’t want you gone too long.”

“You think I’m doing the wrong thing.” He said lowly, as if he was still connecting the dots in his head. “You out me in this position today, Y/N. No one told you to start telling about treason and executions.”

“You and I both know that’s what he meant. Grounder or Arkadian, opposition goes down. Seemed pretty clear to me.”

“Pike wouldn’t kill his own people. What he’s willing to do, what I’m willing to do, is to protect our people.”

“By the way, I think Pike is wrong.” You corrected. “You… You’re lost right now. You’re trying to right what’s gone wrong but that won’t go away with more blood and bullets.”

“So we’re just supposed to let them continue to kill us?”

“It’s been months and it hasn’t been Trikru killing us if any have died… Azgeda hates us and that’s not gonna change but Trikru is Indra. It’s Lincoln. It’s Octa-“

“It is not Octavia.” He cut in firmly.

Your hands went in surrender and you didn’t push on that.

“Bellamy.” You stood and carefully moved closer to him. You made sure to keep your eyes on his and not on the Grounder blood splattered across his bulletproof. “I.. care about you, you know that. But what Pike’s doing, what you’ve done, has put all of us at risk. It’s an act of war. At the very least, tell me you understand that. If it was the other way around-”

“We’ve been at war since we got here. They picked us off, one by one, in the woods around the dropship. Remember that? Or how they put a spear through Jasper’s chest? Used Murphy to infect our camp? Stabbed Finn with a poisoned blade or, even better, when they executed Finn?”

“Yes, okay?” You abated quickly. “Yeah, you’re right. They’ve beat the shit out of us. But Finn also slaughtered a village with an automatic rifle. We blew up a bridge that led to however many deaths. We burnt an army a couple hundred strong to ash. But we’ve also made allies and had a chance at peace with the Commander.”

“The Commander that left us at Mount Weather, you mean? Who forced us to have to kill the purple who helped us? Who trusted me?”

“God, Bell, y’know what? I wish I hated you for what you’re doing. I- I wish it wasn’t true, what you were doing. I wish you treated me terribly and I wish I could treat you the same. Do you know how much easier it’d be if I could hate you? Especially after the massacre out there.”

“What?” His brows furrowed.

“But I don’t.” You shook your head. “Not yet. Jesus, maybe not ever. And that makes me feel so guilty. To want to hate you and to admit that I probably won’t. You could shoot me and I still would find a way to forgive you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“We may have been fighting since we landed. I can admit that.” You continued ranting.

“Y/N, I-“

“No, you’re going to listen to me!”

He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and closed his mouth.

“That doesn’t mean we need to keep taking things further… You don’t have to like the Grounders, Bellamy. I don’t even think they’re all great, but the coalition was a chance at peace. It could finally end the war. You and me, we could…”

“You and me?” His eyes softened. “What do you…”

You laughed to yourself. “I thought it’d been obvious by now.” You shrugged. “Look, that’s not important right now. What is important is that you don’t go down a path you can’t come back from. I know you want to do what’s right and I know you want to protect us. I love you for that, but goddammit, I can’t lose you.“

“I’m trying to protect you.” He said, putting a hand on your cheek. “It’s always been about you… Well, you and Octavia.”

Despite yourself, you smiled and it brought a quick flash of a smile from him.

“You have such a good heart.” You said honestly, a much softer tone than just moments before. “Pike doesn’t get to take that from you if you don’t let him.”

“Y/N…” His hand moved and took hold of yours.

“You mean a lot to me. None of this has been easy on or for any of us. I know I’ve hardly slept a full night since we landed. And I know you think you have our best interests at heart, but I can promise you that Pike doesn’t have yours.”

“Do you?”

“I do… Since I met you.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, I’ll…”

“Let me outta here?” You tried with an innocent smile.

He laughed slightly and raised his brows.

“Maybe we can continue this conversation in one of our rooms… With a little more privacy.”

“I’ll hear you.” He corrected and you pouted slightly. “You’re gonna have to stay here for the day but I’ll talk to Pike, have you out by dinner.”

“Okay.” You nodded and stepped back.

Bellamy’s hand hit your hip and pulled you back to him.

“I’ve been waiting for you to say something for a while.” He said with a smirk.

“Really?” You returned the playful tone. “How long is a while?”

His head tilted back and forth as he pretended to think.

“Since we met on the Ark.”

[ilguna]

☼ warfare (Bellamy Blake) ☼

summary; when everyone in camp starts becoming ill, you volunteer to help, not knowing that your boyfriend would come down with it, too.

warnings; swearing, ehh gore, weapon mention.

wc; 4.8k

–

You pull your boot on, stomping your foot into the dirt to make sure it’s on all the way, straightening the tongue to make it more comfortable on your foot. You yank at the laces to tighten them, liking your shoes on nice and tight, but not enough to cut off circulation.

You hate it when you sleep in so late, it’s never on purpose. It makes you feel like you’re not pulling your weight, when everyone else has been working for hours, and you’re just getting up. In reality, you tend to work the overnight shifts at the wall for the people who don’t want to do it, because you don’t mind. You work just as hard as everyone else does.

You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, letting out a loud yawn. The only reason why you’re even awake in the first place, is because of a sliver of sunlight that managed to make it through a rip in the tent. It happened to land right on your face, and after so long, you couldn’t sleep through it anymore.

You crouch, lifting up the corner of the makeshift mattress to find your knife underneath, pulling it out. You flick it open, checking to make sure that it’s clean, before closing it. If it were up to you, you’d sleep with it underneath your pillow. The issue is that you share the bed with Bellamy, and he has a habit of sticking his arm beneath the pillow. You found that out after he cut his bicep by accident last week, because you like to keep it open for faster and easier access.

You tuck it into your pocket, before heading out of the tent. The sun is bright, blinding you slightly. You squint through it, listening to the commotion that’s happening out here. When you can finally see, you can see there’s a problem unfolding next to the fire. Where you usually find most people gathered to keep warm, there’s only one that’s sat in front of it.

It’s Derek, he’s got blood smeared around his mouth, hand cupped beneath his chin.

Your face twists, dropping the tent flap behind you so it can fall back into place.

Clarke suddenly rushes past you, heading for the dropship. From a brief look at her, you can see red smeared beneath her eyes, almost reaching her chin. You follow after her, checking behind you to see if there’s anyone else. Only, you see that there’s a semi-circle around Derek now, barely propping himself upright.

“What have I missed?” You ask, jogging to catch up with Clarke.

“I think that whatever Murphy has is spreading.” She says, giving you a look over her shoulder. “To everyone that gets too close.”

You’re sure the last comment is her way of trying to tell you to back off because you might get sick, but you continue after her. She walks up the path and into the dropship, holding the curtains open long enough for you to catch them, being mindful to move when you get close.

Inside, you can hear wet coughing. Around Clarke, you can see Murphy’s beaten up body, hunched over the floor. When he showed up yesterday, there were a lot of mixed reactions. A lot of people were pissed that he was let back inside, human emotion took over when you all realized how bad of a condition he’s in.

You can’t say that you feel bad for him, though. He’s gotten everything that’s deserved to come for him so far, and you guess this is just another round of it. He looks like hell.

He begins coughing again, you can hear the blood splatter on the ground as he struggles to hold himself up. His clothes are torn in several places from trying to escape the grounders, revealing the wounds he’s suffered from them. Clarke gets close, not worried about her safety because she’s already sick, and gets on the ground with him.

“Murphy, hey, look at me.” She says, he slowly raises his head to meet her eyes. “I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the grounders. What happened?”

Blood drips from his mouth, “I don’t know. I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cage. There was no one there, so I took off.”

Clarke’s silent for a second, turning this information over in her mind. “They let you go.”

“What?” You ask, “Why—?”

The curtain moves, light shining inside of the dropship. You turn to see Bellamy coming inside, gun prepared in his hand. He looks over your face first, checking to make sure you’re okay, before landing on the two on the floor.

“Bellamy, stay back.” Clarke says.

You grab his arm, making sure he doesn’t get any closer. He presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, missing your lips, “Did he do something to you?” Clarke shakes her head, Bellamy takes a few more steps forward to see more clearly, you hold onto him. “What the hell is this?”

“Biological warfare.” Clarke says, “You were waiting for the grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it.” She turns her attention back to Murphy, “Murphy’s the weapon.”

When Murphy looks up from the ground, you can see the full damage done to his face. He’s covered in cuts and gnarly wounds in general, blood smeared over every inch of his face from the eyes down. Along with that, his eyes are swollen, the cuts are swollen, and his lips are too. 

You press your lips together, thinking over what this could mean. How long before everyone else in camp gets sick? If Clarke thinks it spreads through touch, then it’s only a matter of time before your worst nightmare comes true. Murphy touched three, and who did those three get to? Will it affect everyone or only a select number?

The curtains are drawn to the side again, the three of you watch as the two from outside are brought in by other people. It’s Derek and Connor, they must’ve been the ones to help Murphy inside. They’re just more people that could possibly end up as bad as Murphy, or as mellow as Clarke is right now. 

The two newcomers are laid on the ground, where they immediately begin to succumb to the coughing fits.

You share a look with Bellamy, wondering if you should be covering your mouth with your shirt or something. If this turns out to be the base for the sick, then the place will be a petri dish in no time. You’re asking for it.

“Is this your revenge, helping the grounders kill us?” Bellamy asks, Clarke has begun to dab at some of Murphy’s wounds with a wet rag, starting with his forehead and working her way down.

“I didn’t know about this, okay? I swear.” Murphy mutters.

“Stop lying!” Bellamy shouts, “When are they coming?”

“Murphy, think, all right?” Clarke starts, “What can you tell us that’s useful? Did you hear anything?”

Murphy shakes his head slightly, “They’re vicious, cruel.”

“You want to see vicious?” Bellamy starts forward. You grab at his jacket, trying to get him from getting any closer than you already are. He rips the fabric from your grasp, continuing.

“Hey, don’t.” Clarke says, “Whatever this thing is, it spreads through contact.”

“That doesn’t mean anything anymore, most of you could be infected right now, then.” You say.

Clarke tilts her head, eyebrows raised, trying to tell you that you’re right without saying it out loud. It’s not a comforting thought, knowing that you’re right.

The curtain opens suddenly, and closes just as quick, Finn jogs into the room, “Clarke?”

“Finn, you shouldn’t be in here.” Clarke says, “No one should.”

“We’re fucked.” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

“I heard you were sick.” He breathes, looking around the room. It begins to dawn on him, “Clarke, what is this?”

“I don’t know, some kind of hemorrhagic fever.” She shakes her head, “We just need to contain it before—”

She’s interrupted by Derek when he begins to vomit all over the floor, body shaking so violently that he falls flat on the ground. You take a step back to give him more room, Clarke launches to her feet.

Finn reaches for her, she moves his hands away, “Hey, don’t touch me. You could get sick.” They share a look before she moves on, going to help Derek, “Wash your hands, now.”

Finn goes, like he’s ordered to.

“What the hell is happening to him?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke mutters.

A dark red and liquidy vomit hits the floor, consisting mostly of blood. This is when you lift your shirt over your nose to cover the smell, and watch as the boy collapses entirely in his own puddle of puke, the coughing ceases. Clarke gets down next to him, turning his head and finding no resistance. She reaches for his neck.

“Is he…?” Bellamy trails off.

Clarke’s expression falls, turning to look at you two, “He’s dead.”

There’s a few seconds of silence that goes through the room, where no one moves and stares at either Clarke or the body. It kills. The disease that Murphy brought into camp kills.

Once again, she’s the first person to move, grabbing a bottle off the shelf, going up to Finn. “Here, alcohol, hold out your hand.” She dumps enough to douse his hands.

“What do we do?” He asks.

“Quarantine.” She says, “Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here.”

Finn nods, not bothering to wait, leaving the dropship.

Bellamy’s eyebrows raise, “And everyone they had contact with?”

“Well, we have to start somewhere.” Clarke reasons, before turning around, “Connor, who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in? Think.”

Connor’s got a ring of red around his mouth because of the blood that leaked from his nose. The tips of his fingers are covered in blood, “The first one there was Octavia.”

Bellamy’s lips part, eyes widening. He doesn’t even look at you before starting out of the dropship, leaving you here with Clarke, Connor and Murphy.

You shake your head slightly, backing up to the opening, “Do you think some of us could be immune?”

“It’s hard to tell.” Clarke’s eyes find the ground, eyebrows drawing in. “It’s possible, but there’s always delayed reactions.”

You take a spot by the door, planting your feet, leaning against the wall. You hold your shirt over your nose. It can’t be of much use to do this anymore, considering you’ve breathed their air. You could be sick in a matter of hours or as late as tomorrow.

Finn gets to work outside. In the span of fifteen minutes, the ship has already begun to fill up with sick people, being carried in by those who volunteer to help. It isn’t too long after when Bellamy comes in with Octavia, who doesn’t look like she’s sick at all.

Regardless, Clarke does a number of tests on her, trying to see if she has any of the range of symptoms that keep coming out. She has Octavia pull the skin beneath her eyes down and tilt her head back to check her ose. It ends with Clarke shining a flashlight into the back of her throat, checking for sores that might produce blood.

“Okay, we’re done.” Clarke clicks it off, “No visible signs of swelling or bleeding.”

Bellamy’s rubbing his chin, “So you’re saying she doesn’t have it?”

“Don’t touch your face, Bell.” You pull at his wrist, ignoring the look he gives you for it.

“I’m saying she doesn’t have symptoms, but that could change.” Clarke says, “We need to keep her here just in case.”

“No way.” He motions to the people on the floor, “Look at this place. SHe’ll get sick just being here.”

“Do you want to stop the spread, or not?” She asks, “Look, I’ll keep her on the third level with the people who aren’t symptomatic yet. Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again.”

Octavia’s face twits, “Screw you, Clarke.”

“I’ll let you know if her condition changes.” She says. 

“I’ll stay here too, to keep an eye on her.” You touch Bellamy’s arm, his expression changes entirely.

“No, I’m not letting you stay here, too. You haven’t even had contact with anyone that’s sick. You’re asking for it.” He tells you. 

“Someone needs to be in here to help them.” You raise your eyebrows. He clenches his teeth, the outline of his jaw becomes more defined, “I’ll be okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, turning around and walking straight through the curtains to the outside. You let out a sigh, moving the hair out of your face before looking back at Octavia and Clarke. 

Octavia’s done with the conversation, though, heading for the latter directly behind Clarke.

“Octavia, wait.” Clarke turns, “I need you to sneak out again.”

It doesn’t take much to convince Octavia to go and see Lincoln. She leaves immediately, and Clarke asks if you’re going to help cover her absence if Bellamy comes in questioning her. You nod, remarking that you already signed up for that when you said that you’d keep an eye on her for him.

In the meantime, you make yourself a bandana that you tie above your nose to be more careful. If they cough in your face, there’s no way for you to breathe it in, much less get the blood all over. You jump in, trying to help the best you can, moving around the room with Clarke to check on people to see if they’re okay.

The good news is, besides Derek, there’s only one other person that you find dead. She’s laying flat on her face, similar to the way Derek did when he died. You have one of the guys help you carry her out, lining her right up next to him.

“All right, show’s over. Get back to your posts.” Bellamy says, coming toward the ship, “You got enough food in there, water?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Some medicine might be nice.” Clarke says.

Bellamy laughs, “I’ll see what I can do.” You and Clarke turn to walk in. “Octavia, you okay?”

Your eyes slide over to Clarke, and you walk another two steps before turning like she does. She’s quiet for too long, it’s a dead giveaway that there’s something going on between you three.

“She’s sleeping.” You lie straight through your teeth, giving him a pretty smile, “We’ve got her isolated from everyone else. I’ve been watching her, as promised.”

He squints at you, watching your face, “What’s going on?”

He’s too smart for you to lie like this. You’ve got to try harder, “We—”

Clarke completely cuts you off, not bothering to keep it up, “She’s not here. I sent her to see Lincoln. Look, if there’s a cure, he has it. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let her go.”

You let out a sigh from your nose. You should’ve known that she wouldn’t actually lie to him. Bellamy glares right at you, you tilt your head at him, pressing your lips together. 

“If anything happens to her, you and me are gonna have problems.” He says, beginning to turn, “You too, (Y/n).”

“Bells.” You take a few steps down the slope.

“Bellamy!” Clarke calls.

The two of you watch him walk away. You let out a scoff, pulling the bandana down from your face, eyeing Clarke, “I thought you wanted a cover, moron.”

“There’s no point.” She mutters, voice nasally, unaffected by what you called her.

“Out of my way.” Bellamy barks. 

You and everyone else out here watch as the guy he’s talking to turns around, bloody tears streaming from his eyes. 

“Dude, your eyes!” Someone says, another pulls out his gun, aiming at him.

“Nobody touch him!”

You reach to pull the bandana up.

“Get to the drop ship, now.” Bellamy points, you watch as three other people aim their guns at the guy. He starts walking toward you two.

“Hey, are you okay?” Raven asks, you look in time to watch a girl collapse, hands covered in red. Two people move to grab her to avoid hitting the ground, and in return, she coughs a spray of blood in their faces.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, it’s on me!”

The second guy wipes the blood from his face onto his hands, smearing it, wandering it in the direction of a few people. They all pull out their guns, aiming at him, “Get away! Get back! Get back!”

You stand in horror,w watching as the panic grows, people covering their mouths, backing away from others. More guns are being pulled, people raising their hands in defense.

“Calm down.” Bellamy orders.

“Put that gun down!” Finn shouts.

Clarke doesn’t watch for long before turning around and heading into the ship. She comes out a second later, a gun in her hand. She points the barrel up, firing three shots. All eyes hit her, silence sweeping the camp. She heads down a few steps, “This is exactly what the grounders want. Don’t you see that? They don’t have to kill us if we kill each other first.”

“They won’t have to kill us if we all catch the virus!” One of the guys shout at her, pointing the gun in her direction, “Get back in the damn dropship!”

Bellamy takes three long strides, grabbing the gun to disarm him. In the process, he slams the butt of the gun into the guys’ throat, he falls to his knees.

“Not to state the obvious, but your quarantine isn’t working.” Bellamy tells her.

When you look over at Clarke, you watch as her eyes roll into the back of her head, the gun beginning to fall from her hand. You jerk forward to catch her before she hits the dirt, managing to grab her arms before Finn swoops in, holding her across his arms.

“Hey, let me go. I’m okay.” Clarke breathes.

“No, you’re not.” He says.

“Octavia will come back with a cure.” She says.

“There is no cure.” Octavia jogs over, “But the grounders don’t use the sickness to kill.”

“Really? Tell that to them.” Bellamy motions to the two bodies on the ground, “I warned you about seeing that grounder again.”

“Yeah, well, I have a warning for you, too.” She says, “The grounders are coming. And they’re attacking at first light.”

She walks right past Bellamy, looking at Finn, “Come on. I’ll help you get Clarke into the dropship.”

You look at Bellamy, pulling the mask down again. He eyes for face for a long couple of seconds, “I can’t believe you let her go, knowing how I feel about them.”

You nod, making a face, “We have to take chances sometimes, you know that better than anyone else.” You cross your arms, “And for the record, if Clarke hadn’t sent her, we wouldn’t know that we’re all going to die tomorrow morning.”

Bellamy’s lips turn up slightly, “You know I’d never let them touch you.”

“I know.” You agree, beginning to back up, “I’ll keep an actual eye on her this time.”

He nods, “Be careful, please.”

“I always am.” You say, pulling the mask over your nose, heading into the dropship.

Inside, you find that Murphy’s given up his hammock so that Clarke can rest in it instead. You start to walk over, Clarke’s half-open eyes land on you. She’s pale, and you can see a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Bellamy can never stay mad at me.” You stop by her feet, “I’ll kep an eye on everyone.”

“I’ll help you.” Octavia offers. 

“Me too.” Murphy gets up from where he’s sitting. He looks at you, “I’m feeling better.”

“That’s good.” You grab the nearest cup off of a table, rinsing it in the clean bucket of water before scooping drinkable water out of a different bucket. 

The three of you work as a team to get around the room, slowly hydrating the people that can’t move because of how much pain they’re in. There’s a few instances where they’ll cough in your face, blood splattering around your eyes, but never in your mouth. You try to feed them what little food you have to offer, and then move onto cleaning faces the best you can, even though you know that they won’t stay that way for long.

By the time the sun sets, you’re the only one still consistently moving around, making beds and fluffing pillows for people to use so that they can actually rest. Clarke watches you half of the time, making sure that you’re doing everything correctly when an emergency arises. She stops trying to tell you what you should be doing when she realizes that you’re getting the job done either way.

“I’m going to take a breather.” You say, washing your face with the clean water, and then dumping a small handful of the alcohol over your hands. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” Clarke breathes, “You’ve been doing a lot.”

“You want anything from your tent?” You ask.

“No, I’m okay.” She smiles.

You leave through the curtains, immediately pulling the bandana down so you can get a few lungfuls of fresh air. It’s hot in there from the amount of unmoving bodies. You feel sticky from the sweat and blood that clings to you desperately. You’d give anything to take a shower.

You jog down the slope and toward your tent, hoping that you’ll meet someone along the way that has good news. They’ve got a lot of people that are putting their heads together to ensure that you’ll all be safe tomorrow morning, but they haven’t shared those plans just yet.

The moon is shining exceptionally bright tonight, you don’t even need the fires that light up the path. 

Halfway through your journey, you find Jasper, talking down at the corner of some tent. You’re about to make a joke, when you see that he’s talking to someone, not himself. And when you get closer, you see that it’s Bellamy.

“Bells!” You gasp, jogging closer.

“Stay back.” He holds his hand out. You can see that there’s blood running from his nose. You reach to untie the bandana from the back of your neck, turning it into a rag. You crouch down next to him, moving his hand away to wipe the blood. He turns his head away, eyes on Jasper, “Make the shot. Find Finn, go.” 

Jasper leaves, you move the hair out of Bellamy’s face, feeling how hot his forehead is, “Can you stand?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He murmurs.

“I came out to see if you guys came up with a plan.” You say, “And because I needed a breather. It’s not easy being in there.”

“Is Octavia okay?”

“She’s fine.” You tell him, “Let’s get you up so you can see for yourself.”

Bellamy doesn’t want to touch you with his bloodied hands, so you wipe them as clean as you can. The two of you work together to get him on his feet, you pull an arm over your shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you.

“I can walk.”

“Must be why you fell over then, right?” You muse, he sucks in a breath. 

You work to get him to the ship, he’s dragging his feet, one arm wrapped around his abdomen. Everytime he teeters to one side, you have to try hard to correct it without sending you both falling over.

“Octavia!” You shout, helping him up the slope.

The curtains whip open less than a second later, taking in the sight of you two, before turning to look back inside, “Clear some space!”

Murphy jumps up to fix one of the beds, Octavia takes Bellamy’s other side, because he’s beginning to sink to the floor with each step. As soon as you get him to the end of the bed, you slowly lower him onto it, trying to be gentle.

Bellamy lays on his back, coughing up a mouthful of blood. You jerk to roll him over, watching as it all leaves his mouth, splattering onto the floor. He gags, Octavia pats his back.

“Hey, big brother.” She breathes, leaning over him.

You wipe his face with a dry rag, trying to keep the blood from running down the side of his jaw and onto his neck.

“I’m scared.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Octavia tells him. 

“That’s what I said to you the day you were born.” He’s sucking in air, having difficulty breathing. 

“I know.” She says. “You told me that, like, a thousand times.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” He grabs her hand, squeezing it.

“Just get some rest now, okay?”

Bellamy nods, tears pooling in his eyes. He closes them, head turning to the side. You make eye contact with Octavia, and a silent agreement passes between you two. You nod, telling her that you’ll stay right here.

Octavia gets up to go, you sit flat on your butt, crossing your legs. You slowly run a hand through Bellamy’s hair, wiping away the tears that escape. You try humming to him, knowing that trick works every now and then. He crosses his arms over his chest tightly, so you move to unzip your jacket, laying it across his chest.

He takes your hand in his.

It isn’t too long after when he falls asleep, body relaxing. You sit over him and watch to make sure that he’s still breathing and not choking on his own bloody vomit. Murphy and Octavia take turns to help out everyone, but it seems like people keep turning them away because of how tired they are.

However, there’s a few that are coming back to life, the illness finally passing. Even Clarke begins to get restless.

It’s a few hours later when Bellamy begins to stir. You lift your head from where you have it on the bed, placing your hand on his knee. His face twists before his eyes open suddenly, searching the room for a split second, but he stops as soon as he sees you, sitting up. 

“I’ve got water.” Murphy says, coming over with a cup.

You take it from him, Bellamy glares at him, “Thanks, I’ve got it.”

“Yeah.” He watches Bellamy for a second before walking away.

You pass the cup over, rubbing Bellamy’s knee for a second. He turns his attention to you, “Have you slept?”

“Partially.” You admit, “I don’t need you worrying about me. I work the overnight shifts, this is nothing compared to how late I’ve stayed up patrolling before.”

He doesn’t argue, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, no symptoms. You look better.”

He takes a drink of the water, and then sets the cup on the floor. Clarke comes over, sitting on the bed next to Bellamy.

“Either of you seen Octavia?”

“She was up all night helping people.” You tell him, “Murphy gave her a break.”

Clarke gives him a look.

Bellamy squints at her, face twisting, “Don’t tell me you trust him now.”

“Trust? No.” Clarke looks away, “I do believe in second chances, though.”

Bellamy shakes his head, changing the topic, “It’s almost dawn. Better get everyone inside. If we lock the doors, maybe the grounders will think we’re not home.”

“Not everyone’s sick.” She says.

“Sick is better than dead.” Bellamy says.

“He’s right.” You agree.

“You don’t think Finn and Jasper are gonna pull it off.” She says, it’s not a question.

“Do you?” He asks.

She pauses for a second, “I’ll get everyone inside.”

Clarke gets to her feet, shuffling out of the dropship. You stretch, letting out a yawn.

“You should sleep, (Y/n).” He says, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Should is the key word.” You say, “I’m not sleeping until everything’s settled.”

You get to your feet, tilting his head back so you can kiss his forehead, knowing better than to test your luck by aiming for his lips. He must think this is risky, because he pushes your hand away.

“Bells,” You murmur, “Stop.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ve had sick people coughing in my face all day, you think I can’t handle your germs?” You laugh, pushing his hand out of the way. You hold onto either side of his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “See?”

“Yeah.” He says, watching you sit next to him. He pulls you into his side, “Thanks for watching me all night.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”