#Grounder is almost all of these

[torchickentacos]

The world may change at rapid paces that induce constant emotional whiplash, but at least there's one constant (pokemon xy anime discourse on twitter)

[gottencents]

BAD BAD BAD - Yu Jimin

pairing. idol!karina x aespa!addedmember!reader

synopsis. When aespa’s self-proclaimed “loser” Y/N shocks everyone with her hidden baseball talent, she not only steals bases—but also Karina’s heart.

Seoul Olympic Stadium — a crisp spring afternoon. A charity baseball game featuring idols from multiple groups is being held to raise money for youth sports programs. The rest of aespa—Karina, Winter, Giselle, and Ningning—have shown up in matching team merch to support their least expected player: Y/N.

“Okay, this is the funniest thing SM’s ever done,” Winter said through a bite of hot dog, pointing toward the field. “They really sent Y/N to play in a baseball game?”

“She’s probably gonna break the bat trying to swing,” Ningning giggled, phone out to record the chaos.

Giselle nodded dramatically. “Ten bucks says she trips running to first base.”

Karina, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees, didn’t say anything. She’d watched Y/N quietly stretch and warm up on the field for the past ten minutes, noting the way her grip on the bat was tight, precise, and the way she adjusted her cap just before walking onto the diamond. She didn’t look like she was pretending. She looked… confident.

“She’s been quiet about it,” Karina murmured, almost to herself.

Winter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” Karina said, eyes still following Y/N. “Just… wait.”

Bottom of the 2nd Inning — Y/N at shortstop.

“Ground ball to short!” the announcer shouted.

Y/N moved like lightning, gloved the ball cleanly on the hop, and lasered it to first base.

“OUT!”

“Wait—was that her?” Giselle blinked.

Before they could react, the very next play: a pop fly headed shallow into left-center. Y/N turned and sprinted, making a diving catch that brought the entire crowd to their feet.

“THAT’S TWO!” the announcer yelled.

Karina stood slowly, hand covering her mouth in disbelief—and something else.

“Was she always that fast?” Ningning murmured.

The third out came a minute later: a full-body dive into a sliding grounder followed by a backhand flip to second for the out.

Karina’s heart thudded. “Oh my god.”

Top of the 4th — Y/N’s first at-bat.

“She probably doesn’t even know how to swing—”

CRACK.

The ball sailed out of the park, disappearing over the left field fence.

The crowd erupted.

Winter screamed. “SHE JUST—NO WAY.”

Giselle grabbed Karina’s arm. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?”

Y/N rounded the bases calmly, helmet tucked low. But as she passed the aespa section, her head tilted slightly—and Karina could swear she winked.

Later in the game:

Five stolen bases. Three more at-bats.

Three home runs.

Every time Y/N stepped up to the plate, the crowd leaned forward. Every time she got on base, she stole her way around the diamond with calculated precision and raw speed. She didn’t even celebrate. She just played.

Karina had barely sat down. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. There was something intoxicating about the way Y/N moved—sharp, focused, electric. And for the first time, she saw something she hadn’t before.

She saw the girl behind the nerdy anime rambles, behind the loser Twitch streams and long rants about Marvel timelines. She saw all of Y/N. And she was completely, utterly gone.

Post-game. Y/N is named MVP.

Back in the dugout, aespa surrounds her.

Winter grabs Y/N’s shoulders. “You’ve been LYING to us.”

“I thought you were allergic to the sun,” Giselle gasped. “How did you just morph into a baseball prodigy ?!”

Ningning flung her arms around her. “You have stats! You have MVP stats!”

Y/N laughed, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly. “I played back in the States. Shortstop all through middle and high school. Just… never really talked about it. Didn’t seem like something anyone would care about.”

Karina stepped forward, quiet but steady. “I care.”

The others immediately backed off, eyebrows raised in unison.

Y/N blinked. “You do?”

Karina nodded, lips twitching into a smile. “That was… incredible. I’ve never seen you like that before.”

Y/N’s confidence faltered just a little. “You mean like… not a loser?”

Karina’s smile softened. She reached out and gently tugged on the sleeve of Y/N’s jersey.

“No. I mean, I’ve always liked the loser version of you. The Y/N who debates superhero rankings for an hour straight. The one who rage-quits games on stream and immediately apologizes. That’s the version I started falling for.”

Y/N froze. “Falling?”

Karina stepped closer. “But today? Watching you do what you love, totally in your element, completely owning the field? That just sealed it.”

Y/N’s ears went red. “So… you’re saying you—”

“I’m saying,” Karina interrupted, voice soft, “that maybe you and I should leave early, skip the after-party, and hang out somewhere where I get you all to myself.”

Y/N couldn’t breathe for a second. “I know a rooftop.”

Karina raised an eyebrow. “With ramen?”

“Always.”

After midnight. The dorm’s living room is softly lit by the city lights through the window. The air is quiet, everyone else in the dorm already asleep. Y/N is curled up on the couch in a loose shirt and joggers, a half-finished can of Coke resting on the coffee table. Karina enters quietly, barefoot, in a hoodie and shorts. She pauses when she sees Y/N still awake.

“Can’t sleep?” Karina asked gently, stepping into the room.

Y/N looked up and gave her a sheepish smile. “Adrenaline’s still kinda punching me in the face.”

Karina chuckled, making her way over. “Understandable. You basically turned into an anime protagonist today.”

Y/N groaned and dropped her head back against the couch. “Don’t say that. I’ll never live it down. My DMs are probably full of ‘shortstop slayer’ memes.”

Karina laughed, settling beside her on the couch. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I’m not used to it. People being impressed by me, I mean. Not in that way.”

Karina tilted her head. “You’re used to people underestimating you.”

Y/N paused. “Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence between them, not awkward, but charged—like something unspoken had just stepped into the room.

Karina’s voice was softer now. “You didn’t just impress people today, Y/N. You changed the narrative.”

Y/N looked at her, hesitant. “What narrative?”

“The one you’ve been letting define you. The one where you’re the quirky side character. The ‘loser’ of aespa. You’re not just that. You never were.”

Y/N’s eyes dropped to her hands. She picked at the hem of her sleeve. “It’s easier to make the joke first, you know? Be the one who laughs at herself before anyone else does. Then it doesn’t hurt as much.”

Karina’s expression softened. Without saying anything, she reached over and gently took Y/N’s hand in hers, lacing their fingers together.

“You don’t need to shrink yourself to be loved,” Karina whispered. “Not with me.”

Y/N’s breath caught.

Karina held her gaze, steady and open. “I know you think you have to keep your guard up. That it’s safer to be the weird gamer girl who doesn’t get taken seriously. But I’ve been watching you longer than you think.”

Y/N blinked. “You have?”

Karina gave a soft nod. “Every late-night stream you stayed up for. Every time you randomly monologued about Marvel on a car ride. I didn’t just tolerate that. I liked it.”

Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper. “Even when I went on that thirty-minute rant about why Batman would lose to Gojo Satoru?”

Karina grinned. “Especially then.”

They both laughed quietly, the tension slowly melting into something warmer. Karina’s thumb brushed across Y/N’s knuckles, tender and grounding.

“I didn’t think someone like you would ever look at someone like me,” Y/N admitted. “You’re… Karina. The it-girl. The goddess. The standard.”

Karina’s smile faltered just a little—but not in sadness. More like she was seeing herself through Y/N’s eyes, and it overwhelmed her.

“I wish you could see what I see,” Karina whispered. “You were magnetic today. And not just because of the game. You were you. Completely, unapologetically. And it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N looked at her, stunned. “Karina…”

“Can I kiss you?” Karina asked softly.

There was a heartbeat of stillness.

Y/N nodded. “Please.”

Karina leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to back away—but Y/N didn’t. Their lips met gently, hesitantly at first, before melting into something softer, deeper. Y/N’s hand came up to Karina’s cheek, fingers trembling slightly from nerves, from adrenaline, from everything.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them lingered in the closeness, noses brushing, foreheads resting together.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh. “I think I blacked out for a second.”

Karina grinned. “Same.”

Y/N tilted her head, voice barely above a whisper. “Does this mean you like me? Like, like-like?”

Karina laughed. “I just kissed you, Y/N.”

“You could be doing it for charity.”

Karina rolled her eyes playfully, then kissed her again—firmer this time, more certain.

“This isn’t charity,” she murmured against her lips. “It’s something I’ve wanted for a long time.”

Y/N exhaled shakily, her hand still on Karina’s cheek. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Karina smiled. “Because I thought maybe you’d never see me that way. But then I watched you on that field, completely in your element, and I realized… I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Y/N leaned into her, their hands still tangled, hearts still racing.

“I think I’ve loved you since our third vocal lesson,” she whispered. “You sang one note and I forgot how to breathe.”

Karina blushed, eyes wide. “Okay, you win.”

Y/N smirked. “Always do.”

They laughed together, collapsing back against the couch, tangled up in each other and the quiet glow of a moment they never thought they’d have.

Outside, the city sparkled.

Inside, Y/N finally felt like she was home.

[lov3lyl3tters]

“I’m here”

Bellamy Blake x Reader

Summary: After a close call with the Grounders, you’re still shaken, though you refuse to admit it. Bellamy notices—of course he does—and, in true Bellamy fashion, he doesn’t ask, he just acts. When he pulls you into his arms, you realize just how much you needed it… and maybe, just maybe, he needed it too.

warnings: angst with comfort

ᥫ᭡

You’re still shaking. You tell yourself it’s just the cold, but you know that’s not true.

The night is quiet except for the distant crackling of the fire and the occasional rustling of leaves from the wind. Most of the camp has gone to sleep, exhaustion weighing heavy on everyone after the kind of day you’d all had.

Bellamy hasn’t said a word since you sat down, but you can feel him watching you.

“You’re shaking.” His voice is low, rough from the long day.

“I’m fine,” you say quickly, even though it’s a lie.

A beat of silence. Then, without warning, Bellamy shifts closer behind you, and before you can process what’s happening, his arms wrap around your frame, pulling you into his warmth.

Your breath catches.

“Bellamy—”

“Shut up,” he mutters against your hair, and his grip tightens like he’s afraid you might pull away. “Just let me.”

You don’t move. You don’t argue. Because, honestly? You don’t want to.

His warmth seeps into you, steady and grounding, and only now do you realize just how much you needed it. Your hands hesitate before settling over his forearms, your fingers barely curling around him.

Bellamy exhales, his breath warm against your temple. “You scared the hell out of me today.”

You swallow. “I didn’t mean to.”

His hold on you tightens. “I know. But you did.”

The weight of his words settles over you, and suddenly, you can’t help but imagine what it must have looked like from his side—the panic, the helplessness. You barely made it back to camp before the Grounders closed in. Bellamy had been waiting at the gates, his face dark with something that had made your chest ache.

“I’m here,” you whisper now, pressing the words into the space between you. “I made it back.”

Bellamy makes a noise in the back of his throat, something almost like frustration, but he doesn’t pull away. His chin brushes the top of your head as he exhales, long and slow.

“You can’t do that again,” he mutters.

You turn to face him while in his arms, tilting your face up to look at him. The firelight flickers across his features, making his eyes look softer, even as his jaw is still tight with something unsaid.

“You think I wanted to get stuck out there?” You try to joke, but Bellamy doesn’t laugh. He just looks at you, his grip on you unwavering.

“I can’t lose you,” he says, and it’s so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

Your breath catches, your heart skipping in your chest.

For a moment, neither of you move.

Then, slowly, you lift a hand, fingers brushing against the fabric of his sleeve before curling into it. “You won’t.”

Bellamy’s jaw flexes, his eyes flickering over your face like he’s trying to find something—maybe reassurance, maybe an answer. Then, wordlessly, he tugs you closer, pressing your face against his chest.

And you let him.

You don’t fight it, don’t tease, don’t pull away. Instead, you curl into him, letting yourself sink into the safety of his arms.

“Get some sleep,” he murmurs after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ve got you.”

And for the first time all night, you believe him.

[sleepyangelkami]

Would you write John Murphy from the 100?

BOY FROM THE SKY j.murphy

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.5K

JOHN MURPHY X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you and your parents live in a cottage in the woods, what happens when they return from hunting one day with a boy, battered and bruised, claiming he'd fallen from the sky?

 𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - minor blood + gore, (1) use of y/n, shy!reader, acid fog, panic attack, swear word(s), petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

living in the woods wasn't as isolated as it seemed. you rather liked where you lived, the peace in it. besides, you'd never known anything else.

it was just you and your parents, it always bad been. you often had visitors, people from clans all throughout the forest, but they were allies to your family now, peace being served between you all.

your hands brushed against the ceramic plates, wiping them clean when you heard commotion from outside the cottage. your parents had been on a run, hunting for food while you stayed behind. they never trusted you enough to go out by yourself.

you found yourself following the noise but you didn't get far, eyes widening as your father burst open the door, he and your mother supporting a boy from either arm, limp as they dragged him. "what are you doing?" you mumbled, following them as they lifted him towards the bathroom.

blood followed in a trail.

"y/n, get the medical supplies, now." you wasted no time in fleeing the room, hands pushing at drawers until you found the medical supplies you needed. your parents were waiting for you as you passed them the things they needed, stepping back to watch.

you didn't speak to people outside the cabin, that was your parents job but watching him, a new soul standing inside your bathroom was certainly a sight to scare. "come here, put pressure on his stomach with this cloth." you did as your mother told you, gently placing your hands against the white cloth, now stained crimson.

"who... who is he?" your voice croaked, turning to your father who was putting rubbing alcohol in his arm.

"john. murphy. most people just call me murphy, though." your eyes widened as they turned back to the boy. seeing as his eyes were lolled closed and his head was leaning down, you assumed he'd been passed out but he looked back up at you, with low red eyes and a hazy memory. "what's the problem? not a fan of blood?" he could feel your hands shaking against his wound, doing everything in your power not to look down.

thankfully, your mother answered for you, unaware of how your jaw was glued in the one place, unable to move. "she's terrified of it." answering shortly. "i got it." your mother moved your hands away and let her own hands take over.

you stepped backwards, almost tripping over your own two feet. watching the stranger in the bathroom with your parents working on his wounds was enough to make you feel hazy too. "what can i do to help?" you mumbled, voice low and quiet.

murphy decided then that you resembled a flower, not a sunflower or anything so bright, but a delicate one, a white tulip, perhaps. he gave you a funny smile. "don't suppose you guys have coffee, here, do you?"

that was the first time you'd ever met john murphy. he soon became much more than a stranger.

he became sort of like a 'second' as the grounders would call it, to your parents. he did as much as he could to repay them for their kindness. you never really asked him much about himself, squeaking and hiding every chance you got. living out in the forest by yourself for your whole life, you got a little shy.

your parents were hunters but also searching for a better place to live, the cabin only provided so much security. often, they'd leave for weeks at a time leaving you in the cabin alone. they never had to worry though, because you always kept things under control. but this time... you had someone to stay with you, though you could hardly call them a friend if you couldn't look him in the eye.

it was late at night, your parents had only left that morning and you were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you were dressed in tattered pale blue sleep shorts with a ragged white henley on top.

you were under the impression that you were in the kitchen alone, that was until the door slammed rather harshly. a squeak fell from your lips as you gripped the glass in your hand tighter as to keep it from falling. your wide eyes glanced forward to see murphy, grimacing at the sound. "sorry." he uttered. "i didn't mean to scare you."

you inhaled softly. "you didn't." but your shaking voice and nervous shuffle said otherwise.

murphy still eyed you, unconvinced. he'd made it his job to be extra careful around you. he could tell from your nervous jitters that you were rather shy and the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home.

"looks like we had the same idea." he joked, pouring himself a glass of water too.

your eyes nervously looked at him. it was easier to look at him when he wasn't looking at you, and right now his eyes were trained on the rounded kitchen table.

his skin looked less battered and bruised than it did before. the bruises still lingered but the cuts were almost gone. "your wounds look better."

and thank god for that, the sight of his wounds had made you a little on edge. "that mean you can finally look me in the eye now?"

murphy knew as soon as the words left his lips that he shouldn't have said anything. when speaking to you, you adverted your eyes as quickly as you could, never making eye contact. your fingers would fiddle with themselves and you'd dig the tip of your foot into the mud beneath your shoes.

always so nervous.

"sorry." you mumbled, cheeks turning warm. "i'm just..."

"shy?" he practically answered for you, watching you catch your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. "i get it."

your eyes caught to his dark blue ones and you tried to keep your face from getting hot. "goodnight, murphy." setting your glass in the sink and making your way towards the door.

"goodnight, sweetheart." the minute it left his lips, he knew it was too late to take back.

he watched as your cheeks turned to flames and your eyes widened even larger. you quickly scurried out of the room and he bit his lip, rolling his own eyes and wondering how he could be so stupid.

it wasn't as if he hadn't meant to call you such a name. he just wished he'd gotten the chance to be more gentle with it, to ease you into the idea.

you already seemed nervous before, he could only imagine you now.

however, as the sun rose again by morning, you didn't seem to want to leave his side. he was unsure what had changed within the night but he shrugged it off, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"it's nice out today, don't you think?" you see, you'd spent all your time with him all day but you hadn't exactly spoke much. murphy was chopping wood with the spare axe your father always used. he wiped a hand across his forehead and looked up at the blazing sun.

you just nodded silently, glancing around at the pretty flowers that were beginning to bloom. "spring's one of my favourite seasons." you admitted in a low mumble.

murphy's eyes turned to you, watching you at your seat on top of one of the wood logs, swaying your feet back and forth. "yeah? why's that?" using the axe to swing onto another piece of wood. they were already chopped into cylinders but they were too big to fit in the fire place.

"i like the flowers." it was only now that he realised there was a little flower crown sitting in your lap, you were adding the last few daisies. "i think peonies are my favourite but i've never seen one in real life."

most of your life was measured in books and pictures, it wasn't like you had many people to keep you company before, to tell you their own stories. aside from your parents, that is.

"you will." your eyes glanced up, hearing the sincerity in his voice. he'd placed the axe against the ground and picked up the now separated log pieces. "someday."

"how do you know?" you questioned in the sweetest tone he'd ever heard as you connected the flower crown into exactly what it was supposed to be.

the ghost of a smile on your lips was enough to have him do the same.

but the sound of a horn stopped him from answering your question.

a cold fear suddenly fell over you. you knew what the sound of the horn meant.

acid fog.

your wide eyes turned to murphy, standing as you dropped the flower crown onto the log you'd been using as a seat.

"shit." the boy mumbled, dropping the wood against the grass and turning to look at the cabin.

you were too far away from it, you'd never make it in time, the acid fog would get there quicker. "what do we do?" your worried voice caught his ears and he could see pure terror etched to your face, inching closer to him.

"it's okay, it's okay, c'mere." he pushed his hand out, wavering you forward and you merely clutched the hem of your dress between your fingers, eyes looking past the meadow. "c'mere, angel, i've got you."

you were too far from home.

it was one of the main reasons that you hated leaving home. you could never be prepared, not all the way out here.

however, you complied anyway, putting your life's trust in murphy as he suddenly clasped your hand, leading you the opposite way of your home.

"murphy? murphy, where are we going?" he could hear the horror slick in your voice, it was an unusual sound. there never was much emotion in your voice, as if you could only ever mumble.

the sound of you... fearful made his heart lurch. he suddenly wished he could take care of you in any way you needed, make sure you were never put in harms way again.

"'s okay, just follow me, i know a place." he turned behind him, knowing he shouldn't have looked back. he sucked in a breath of air at the sight of the airy yellow fog. "gotta pick up the pace, sweetheart." his voice suddenly panicked.

and you did just that.

murphy was faster, though, leading the way with your hand wrapped in his own. you ran until your calves burned, eyes widening when murphy suddenly stopped. but you didn't question him.

funnily enough, you trusted him.

and your parents must have trusted him too, leaving you alone with him.

he reached down, clearing the ground of leaves and sticks, a metal door was suddenly revealed. you looked at murphy with confusion. you'd lived here your entire life, how did he know more about this place than you did?

nonetheless, he ushered you inside. "there you go, atta girl." allowing you to walk down the narrow ladder and following you less than seconds later.

with no time to waste, the boy grabbed the handle of the door and slammed it shut, allowing the acid fog to travel through the air, passing over the bunker completely.

as your feet hit the ground, you instantly took in the bunker. it wasn't huge though it wasn't necessarily small either.

but you couldn't take notice of the things around, too focused on what was happening outside. your chest heaved, heavy breaths leaving your lips. though it felt like nothing was leaving you, as if you could only breathe in. there was too much inside of you.

your hand grasped at the nape of your neck, feeling all too overwhelmed.

this was the first time in your entire life that acid fog had hit when you were so far away from home.

"hey, hey, hey." murphy seemed to notice your panic. "you're okay, we're safe in here." even though you trusted him, you still couldn't seem to believe. not in him, no, just that anyone like you would get lucky. you hadn't experienced a day of luck in your life. "look at me." your watery eyes turned to him. "you're safe."

and suddenly the boy did something that nobody else had ever really done.

he took you in his arms, and he cradled you, hugging you close.

it took a moment, a beat of silence before your arms could wrap around his own body, a weight suddenly lifted off your shoulders. it was as if by embracing you, he took half of all that worry and knocked it off your shoulders. it didn't heal you completely, sure, but that was magic enough.

your breathing slowed and you felt the boy gently pull away from you, though his palms were still steady on your arms. "okay, angel?" you nodded, avoiding his eye. "good, c'mere."

the boy helped you sit on this mattress that lay in the corner of the room, tattered grey sheet laying on it and a single duvet, covered by a black cover. you glanced around the 'room', boxes and desks, little objects littering around the bunker. "did you stay here?" you questioned, turning to him. "before you found us?"

"for a bit." he shrugged. he was looking at you closely, eyeing you. it wasn't often that you could stare into his eyes and not back down. he wasn't going to give this up. "then i went back to my old group for a while and well, i guess... you saw how that turned out."

briefly, your mind travelled to the day he first came to your home, covered in bruises and blood.

they did that to him?

you weren't so sure, john murphy seemed to have a knack for trouble. but that was simply a question for another day.

the sound of wind gusting from above the bunker caused your eyes to snap up to the ceiling.

"you can relax." he spoke, a gentle hand comforting you against your thigh. the feeling was enough to excite something from you. "we're safe in here."

"okay." but your pitch was high and your voice was wobbly. you were never a good liar.

"hey, you know that flower crown you were making earlier?" you nodded in response, listening to his voice. you knew he was only trying to get you to stop thinking about the wind out there. but you couldn't help it, it appeared to be working. "think you could make me one too?"

"i don' know." you glanced down at your lap, hands fiddling with your own fingers. "they're not very good?"

"are you kidding me?" despite his words, his tone was soft, adoring even. "they're amazing. i need you to make me one."

you couldn't stop the gentle curve of your lips. "yeah?"

"yeah." he grinned, "we can wear them together. you know, like king and queen." he nudged your shoulder causing a giggle to leave your lips. he suddenly noticed you staring. "what?"

"nothing." you huffed out a laugh from behind your grin. "i just... guess i was hoping someone like you would come around and then you just... fell from the sky."

main masterlist/murphy's masterlist

[anjellaufeyson]

I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

My boyfriend was lovely–his friend wasn’t. Bellamy Blake was the rudest man I’ve ever come across; I only tolerated him for my boyfriend.��

Murphy kissed me before he got pulled away for work, he was doing guard watch. I sighed, why couldn’t Bellamy do this? He always had Murphy doing everything for him, and I’m sick of it. Whenever Muphy comes back to our tent he’s exhausted or too tired to even spend time with me. I left my tent and walked inside Bellamy’s, he was shirtless and a girl was lying on his bed. I immediately left with a disgusted look on my face. 

Soon he came out searching for me, “What do you want, princess?” 

I palmed my face while we strolled together through Arkadia, “I’d prefer if you wouldn’t call me that, Blake. Especially since some people say that when they’re together.” 

He tilted his head, his eyes gazing into mine, he glanced down with a bit of a smile, “Right, whatever you say, princess.” 

The need to correct and argue with him was there but I ignored it for the sake of Murphy. “okay–can you please stop keeping my boyfriend working late? I’m aware of how things are, like it or not I’m one of the smart ones and I think he’s being overworked and–”

Bellamy’s face showed confusion in itself, “Murphy gets off at the same time as everyone else. I work the late nights, I’m who stays up all night, every night.” 

I stopped moving, trying to process my indecision and incoming sense of betrayal. “Wait, you haven’t been keeping Murphy late or hanging out with him late?” 

He shook his head and crossed his arms, his muscles clenching to his tight shirt. His veins popping out. My eyes tore away, my emotions were my only focus. “No, I don’t think anyone has. We’ve been on a lockdown since Clarke went missing.” 

My brain racked everything Murphy’s ever told me since he began ‘working’ late. I thought of the girl I assumed he had a relationship with but when I questioned him, he brushed me off. Out of anger, I took off leaving Bellamy, who ended up following behind me calling for my name. I moved the tent side and immediately saw Murphy and the girl kissing. They stopped once they noticed me and how distraught I looked. 

I backed up and accidentally bumped into Bellamy’s chest, I didn’t cry. I felt like I should cry, my body begged to cry, but when you did here–it made you seem weak. And I’d never want Murphy to see me cry even though my heart did in return. I turned and tried to shield myself with Bellamy’s chest, but hesitantly he put his arms around me. Trying to comfort me but I knew we both detested each other. He never liked me with Murphy for a reason I am unaware of, and I just never liked him. He brushed his hand up and down my back, almost in circular motions. 

Murphy’s voice appeared from behind me but I didn’t dare to look back because I felt so vulnerable, I knew I would cry. “I need to talk with her, I can explain!”

Bellamy stepped in, holding me closer. His voice was demanding, his tone was deep, “Murphy, you should go. Now. If she wants to talk to you, she’ll do it later.” 

I could hear Murphy protesting before easily giving up, he didn’t care to try. I pushed away from Bellamy who almost looked shocked at how quickly I switched up. 

We had to go on a mission, and I found myself in a difficult position. A hand covered my mouth and once I realized I didn’t know the person whose hand it was I began to get a bit scared. I tried to fight them off but couldn’t–it had to be a grounder. 

The grounder pulled a sword on me and dug into my back, but not enough to hurt me but it pierced the skin. He pushed me onto my knees where my friends were–including Bellamy. The whole hunting group was in. Murphy seemed nervous. I guess I should be too, especially since it’s my life on the line. 

“Who’s valuable to her?”

What an odd fucking question–is this supposed to be leverage? Might as well let me die. 

Bellamy not even a second later stepped forward, “She’s with me, that’s my girlfriend.” He spoke so truthfully that even everyone we knew was aware he was lying through his teeth. 

“What are you willing to give me in turn for her life?” 

His eyes almost turned vulnerable, his words coming off as pathetic as his tone came off as pleads. “What do you want?” 

The grounder moved the sword which caused me to wince, “I want Wanheda.” Everyone shared a confused glance, who is that? “Give her to me and I won’t kill her.” 

“Take me instead, she has a better chance of getting through to Wanheda than me.” What is he doing? He’s going to get himself killed–I’m aware he can handle himself but this is almost suicidal. The grounder pushed me into Bellamy’s arms. He squeezed my hand for the quickest second and moved to the grounder who hit him immediately. 

I wanted to help him but I didn’t know how to, Bellamy could’ve attacked but stayed down, taking another punch with ease. I stepped forward but he put his hand up, “Don’t,” he demanded while blood ran down his cheek. 

Why was he willing to do this for me? We’ll never find her, I mouthed. He did a tiny nod. They need you, I mouthed once more. He got kicked in his ribs and I knew I lost his attention but while the grounder was distracted I quickly stole Murphy’s gun and shot the grounder. My aim was good, but I hated shooting, killing wasn’t something I wanted to do. But I had to–for him. 

Without processing what I did I went to Bellamy’s side. I hated his stupidity and I hated how he saved my life. “I hate you,” I said as I helped him up. He spit out blood, “I know,” he said while wincing from getting up too quickly. 

While Bellamy was getting medical from Abby, I was talking with Octavia and Jasper. Murphy approached grabbing my arm, “Were you and Bellamy seeing each other behind my back?”

His breath reeks of Monty’s moonshine, “Are you serious? You’ve been cheating on me, Murphy?”

“Were you yes or no?” 

Before I could say anything Bellamy put his arm around my waist. His hands slipped around my stomach. Holding me tight but just to keep himself steady from behind. “Yes,” he said in a raspy voice, still clearly in pain. I couldn’t turn my head, I’d be too close to his face. He groaned a bit in pain but still managed to keep his posture strong and himself looking composed. Bellamy pulled me in closer to him and that got a bit of a reaction from Murphy. 

“Fuck you both,” he said as he stormed off. Everyone else decided to leave us alone, I was going to Bellamy back to medic. There was a zero percent chance he was let out yet. 

He stopped me from walking, his tight and bloody shirt doing him every bit of justice. His hands took control so easily, “Why’d you do it,” I asked. 

His fingers traced along my neck, “Save you? Or help you?”

“Both,” I spoke breathlessly. His eyes were fixated on my lips and I wondered if Abby gave him painkillers or something for this type of behavior. 

Bellamy stared down at me, tension felt like it was rising, and the heat was radiating off our bodies. He kept one hand on my waist, holding me. His right hand pulled my hair to the side he leaned in, “because we both know I could treat you better,” he whispered into my ear.

[itsonlybaby]

➣ 🇺​​🇳​​🇹​​🇮​​🇹​​🇱​​🇪​​🇩﹔ ​🇧​. ​🇧​​🇱​​🇦​​🇰​​🇪​ .ᐟ

ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis﹔venting to bellamy about your boyfriend, one thing leads to another. ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ ˚ cw﹔ bellamy blake x reader, smut, some plot, cheating ﹒ ◠ note﹔ hey… its been a while wc﹔ 1.7k  ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood﹔ song

The stars are just barely visible through the cloudy sky when you find him, your best friend Bellamy, he was slouched on the edge of the dropship, forearms resting on his knees, hair wild from the wind. He always looked like this at night. Tired, guarded, lost in thought.

You dont say anything at first, you simply climb up beside him, knees pulled to your chest and arms wrapped tight around them like you're trying to hold yourself together.

You don't need to speak, he just glances over, eyebrows raised, mouth twitching into a small welcome.

"Rough day?" He asks softly.

"Rough week," you exhale.

Bellamy nods like he already knew. Maybe he did. He always seemed to know.

You let the silence hang in the air for a while, the sound of the camp filling it for you. Theres a tightening in your chest tonight, you felt it behind your ribs that no amount of deep breathing or forced smiles had seemed to fix.

"It's not even the camp," you mumble, eyes fixated on the dirt below, "Not the grounders, not the rations, it's-"

"Your boyfriend," Bellamy finishes for you, it wasn't a question, it was just the truth.

You nodded slowly, almost embarrassed he knew.

"I feel like I'm always trying," you admit, voice low, "Like I'm giving and giving, and there's just nothing coming back. No effort, no... closeness. Not really. Not where it counts."

His jaw tightens and you notice it, you always notice everything about him, even when you don't want to.

"He hasnt touched me in weeks," you confess quietly, it sounded almost muffled, "And when he does, its like he's not even there, like I'm some chore."

The second it leaves your mouth, you feel heat crawling up your neck and to your cheeks. You weren't sure why you said that much, you weren't supposed to dump it all like this, especially not the parts about... that. The part that felt too raw, too private, too *intimate*.

You cringe inwardly, heart pounding as you stare down at the ground below you.

Bellamy isn't judging you. You know he's not, he hasn't looked away or given that awkward little laugh people do when they're uncomfortable. He's just sitting there, listening and being him.

Still, your stomach was in knots, its not like you talk about this stuff with anyone, not even your friends, not even your boyfriend. And now you've spiled it like a girl desperate for attention. Youre not even sure what you want from Bellamy. Comfort? Advice?

Bellamy shifted a little, his arm brushing against yours, "Youre not an obligation," he says, voice deeper now, "Not to the right person."

His words hit you harder than you expected.

"I feel stupid for even saying it out loud," you admit.

"Youre not stupid," he says sharply, eyes on you now, not just a small glance, but really looking, "Hes the idiot, you shouldn't feel like this. You shouldn't feel unloved."

Your chest tightens, and you dont realize your hands are trembling until he reaches for one, his calloused fingers brushing over your knuckles. You should pull away, you should excuse yourself, but you dont.

You feel it then, the ache that's been building all week, maybe longer. The desperate need to feel wanted, seen, held.

His eyes glance down to your lips, and that's it, that's all it takes. His lips crash into yours like its been killing him not to. Its not soft. Its not careful. Its needy, all heat and desperation. Like he's been starving and you're the first thing he's allowed himself to taste.

You gasp and his hand slips behind your neck, pulling you closer and deeper as your fingers twist into his jacket, clutching him like you're afraid he'll stop.

There's nothing shy about what youre doing, his lips are warm and hungry.

You make a small sound as his other hand finds your waist, gripping you tight, pulling you flush against him. There's no space left between your bodies, no room for second thoughts.

When you finally break apart, just barely, breathing hard and lips tingling, his forehead rests against yours.

"I've wanted to do that," he pants, "for so long"

Your head tips back instinctively as his mouth trails down your jaw, then your throat, lips parted and breath hot, he's kissing like he's worshipping you. You feel his teeth just barely graze the sensitive spit below your ear, and your stomach flips, heat rushing low in your belly so fast it makes your legs feel weak.

"Tell me to stop," he mumbled against your skin, his voice is deep, unsteady, "If you don't want this, if this isn't what you-"

"I do," you breathe, too fast, too desperate, "I want this, I want you."

His groan is soft but deep, full of his restraint snapping, and you feel it in the way he lays your back flush against the dropship floor.

Your fingers slip under his shirt, following the firm lines of his stomach, the warmth of his skin under your palms. You've never touched him like this before. His breath catches when your hands drag over his ribs, and you feel him tremble, just slightly, like you're undoing him.

"I've thought about this," he says against your collarbone, voice barely above a whisper, "So many times."

You shiver against him, "Yeah?"

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, his lips red and his expression filled with raw need.

"I didnt think id ever get to touch you like this," he murmurs. "Didnt think you'd ever look at me like that."

You reach up and cup his face, "I always looked at you like that," you whisper.

And when he kisses you again, he does it in a wake like he means to ruin you for anyone else.

You can feel him, hard against your thigh, every bit of his restraint unraveling with each grind of his hips. His hand slips under your shirt, knuckles going slowly over your stomach until he pushes it up and over your head.

"Fuck," he whispers, eyes roaming over you, "Youre so fucking beautiful,"

Heat blooms in your chest, youre not used to being looked at like this, not worshipped, not wanted in a raw way.

He dips his head and licks over your chest, tongue swirling over your nipple until it stiffens, then the other, sucking softly, teasing you while his hand trails down your body, lower and slowly. Your back arches into him instinctively, chasing more, needing more.

"Bellamy-" You gasp, nails scraping his shoulder.

"I've got you," he breathes, fingers finally slipping to unbutton your pants, tugging them down along with your panties in one smooth motion before his mouth trails kisses down your stomach to the one place he wants to be.

Youre already so wet for him, thighs trembling just from anticipation.

"Please," you whisper, and that's all it takes.

He leans in, kissing the inside of your thigh first, kisses that trail closer and closer until finally, finally, his mouth is on you.

His tongue parts you gently at first, tasting, exploring, and then he groans, deep and almost feral, gripping your thighs and pulling you closer to his mouth like he can't get enough.

Your head rolls back against the cool metal floor, "Shit- Bellamy-"

He eats you like he's starving, like youre the only thing that's ever tasted good.

His tongue circles your clit, licking rhythmically while his fingers slide inside you, one, then two, curling just right.

The wet sound is erotic, and you're already close, your body coiled so tight you feel like you might snap.

When you come, it hits like a wave, washing through you with a cry that echoes off the wall. Your legs tremble and Bellamy doesn't stop until you're gasping and twitching, body limp and shaking under his hands.

He leans up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, pupils blown wide, breath ragged.

"You good?" he asks, but it's barely controlled.

You nod, dazed, reaching for him like your body knows exactly what it wants next.

You undo his pants with shaking fingers, and he watches you like he's in a trance, like this moment isn't real.

When you finally push them down, freeing him, you feel a thrill flow through you. He is big, thick, and already leaking, and when you wrap your hand around him, he hisses through his teeth.

"Condom," he manages, though it sounds like its killing him to say.

You watch him grab his pants and dig in the pockets. He opens it and rolls it on with shaking hands, and then your back against the floor, legs around his waist, one his his hands placed under your thigh.

"I dont want to hurt you," he mumbles, forehead pressed to yours.

"You won't," you whisper, "I need you,"

He slides into you slowly, carefully, letting you feel every inch, and god, he stretches you so perfectly it knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your nails dig into his back, and his lips find yours again as he starts to move, slow at first, hips rolling deep and steady, building a rhythm that sends heat curling through your spine all over again.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, hips snapping a little harder now, "So tight around me- shit-"

Your name falls from his lips like a prayer, again and again, and you realize you're clinging to him like he's the only real thing in the world.

It's not just sex, it's months of tension, of unspoken words, of all the ways you've needed to be held and seen and loved. His pace fastens, slamming into you now, the sound of skin on skin echoing off the walls, your moans tangled with his low groans.

Your second orgasm crashes through you even harder, you cling to him, crying out, legs locking around his hips as you pulse around him. Bellamy's thrusts grow erratic and messier, and he buries his face in your neck, breathing you in.

"Im gonna- fuck- I'm coming-"

And then he groans deep into your skin, burying himself inside you to the hilt as he comes hard, shuddering against you.

Silence settles, broken only by your ragged breathing, your sweat-lined bodies still locked together.

Bellamy lifts his head, looking at you like you just changed everything.

"You okay?" he whispers.

You nod, "I've never felt more okay in my life."

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@guesswhothings @itzdarling @sharisesangeldolly @ooceanblvvdd

[radioactiverats]

Thoughts: Electric shock (Starscream x reader)

The first time it happens, you both react in comically similar fashions - with an ungainly yelp, cradling hand and servo respectively as you jump away from each other.

"What the frag was that?" Starscream hisses. "How is it that humans can generate charge?"

"Charge?" you mutter. You suppose the interpretation makes sense. "That was an electric shock. It happens a lot in winter." You almost laugh at the fact that you completely forgot about the inevitability of this. The bots are giant metal beings, after all.

Starscream scrutinizes you through suspicious, narrowed optics, maintaining a wary distance. He has to admit that it stirred the long-dormant scientific curiosity inside him, though. Cybertronians are no stranger to generating charge, but a charge of this scale only occurs during interface - and their partner, assuming they were cybertronian as well (Hmm. Interesting factor. Starscream files that away for later, if only out of morbid curiosity (lie)), would ordinarily have nullified the charge, in a sense. Either through rerouting, absorbing it into their EM field - grounders were particularly good at this, and had been highly sought after partners for a while. Starscream yanks his spiralling thoughts back with a snarl. Cybertronians had relative control over their EM field, able to project it to comfort, merge with others, achieve understanding with one another without the need for verbal communication. Starscream had considered this a mark of sophistication amongst his species - even if thoughts like these had belonged to a time before the war.

So humans had a primitive EM field, he'd known this for a while. If he reached out to touch your field, so weak it radiated only centimeters from your form (it's not like you knew he was doing that, it's not like you would realize he cared, god forbid anyone knew he cared.), he could feel the maelstrom of your puny human feelings and was all at once shaken by it. How could something so small, which existed for barely a blip of his existence, feel so much?

After some observation, he'd quickly established (with some disappointment) that you had no control over your EM field.

Pathetic, Starscream thought. Another reason that cybertronians are superior beings.

However, his little 'experiments' didn't stop. Unexpected and spontaneous generation of charge was simply not something that his kind did, even if he was loathe to admit his interest (purely scientific, of course).

Which begins a rather undignified exercise of him trying to poke you with a servo when you least expected it, to see if charge would generate - "Ow, FUCK - Starscream!"

You quickly resigned yourself to the fact that you had to fight fire with fire. Quietly approaching from your perch on his desk as he squinted and swore over a stack of datapads, you reach a hand out and slap it onto his arm.

Both of you screech at the same time as an audible SNAP crackles between you. Still, you can't stop your laughter as Starscream bolts upright to hurl every cybertronian profanity in the book at you.

[gf2bellamy]

hi!! i love ur writing style, idk how to describe it except it’s so soft and warm 🫶🏽 could i request something for bellamy? reader sort of knew bellamy on the ark. she ran away from the dropship on day one and survived on her own, maybe befriending some grounders in secret. either end of season one or season 2 bellamy sees her in the woods and recognizes her, maybe he convinces her to come back

thank you!

decision — bellamy blake

pairing: bellamy blake x reader ( no use of y/n) content warnings: hunting , mention of death , mention of a grounder's attack , mention of being injured a/n: thank you so so much for requesting !!! <333 loved the idea and i hope you enjoy this and it's how you imagined it :) sorry if it's too long😭

You sat around the fire, the flickering flames casting long shadows across your face. The crackling of the wood was steady, rhythmic, almost hypnotic, but your thoughts were anything but calm. It was one of those nights—the kind where your mind betrayed you with endless "what ifs." What if things had gone differently? What if you’d made a different choice? Every "if" inevitably circled back to him. 

Bellamy Blake. 

The Bellamy who had saved your life more than once. Tonight, the memories weighed heavy on you, a familiar ache settling in your chest as you stared into the fire. 

Your mind drifted back to the Ark, to the first time you’d crossed paths with him. You’d snuck out after curfew that night, unable to bear the stifling walls of the Ark for a second longer. Sometimes the constant noise, the glaring artificial lights, the unrelenting pressure—it was all too much. 

You’d discovered a quiet spot months before, a secluded corner no one seemed to know about. It had become your sanctuary, the only place where you could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in. 

But that night was different. Even as you crept through the dimly lit corridors, something in the pit of your stomach told you not to go. 

It was just a whisper, a tiny nudge of unease, but you ignored it. Maybe if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here now, heart aching, staring at the fire as memories clawed at you. 

The moment came rushing back, vivid as if it had happened yesterday. 

You’d rounded a corner near your secret spot, your footsteps light on the metal grates, when a figure suddenly loomed in front of you. You froze, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, neither of you moved, both startled by the unexpected encounter. 

The boy in front of you was tall, his posture tense but not threatening. His hair was slicked back with a bit too much gel, though stray curls rebelliously escaped at the sides. Freckles dotted his face, a contrast to the sharpness of his dark eyes, which were locked on you now. 

"What are you doing out here?" His voice was low, edged with a warning but not unkind. 

You’d scrambled for an excuse, something that didn’t sound as weak as the truth: that you were overwhelmed, that you needed a moment to escape the suffocating monotony of life on the Ark.  

“Uhm…” The word barely escaped your lips, your voice faltering as you struggled to form a coherent response. Your eyes darted to the jacket he was wearing—the unmistakable symbol of authority, the mark of a guard. Panic rose swiftly in your chest, a tidal wave threatening to drown you. 

Your mind raced, piecing together just how reckless you’d been. Sneaking out after curfew was one thing, but getting caught? By a guard? You might as well have signed your own death sentence. The weight of that realization hit you hard, and you froze, rooted in place as fear coiled tightly around your throat. 

The boy in front of you—no, not a boy, a guard—seemed to notice your unease. His dark eyes flickered, softening slightly. His gaze wasn’t cruel or cold like you might have expected, but concerned, curious. He stepped closer, cautiously, his movements deliberate so as not to startle you. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice low and steady. He hesitated, glancing around the corridor as though to ensure no one else was there. When he looked back at you, his expression was conflicted, his jaw tense as if he was weighing a decision in his mind. Finally, he spoke again, softer this time. “Just… go back. I won’t say anything.” 

His words stunned you. You’d braced yourself for the worst—an alarm, a punishment, something. But this? This was unexpected. 

Your mouth opened, but no sound came out. You wanted to thank him, or at least say something to convey your gratitude, but the fear was still too raw, too suffocating. All you could do was nod shakily, your legs moving on instinct as you turned and walked away. 

Behind you, Bellamy stood frozen, watching you retreat down the dimly lit corridor. His heart was pounding, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the quiet realization that he’d just risked everything for someone he didn’t even know. 

As he lingered there, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about Octavia. The same fear that consumed him every day—the fear of losing her, of her secret being exposed—was what had driven his decision just now. 

Helping you had been instinctive, almost reflexive, as though saving you might somehow make up for the guilt and anxiety that gnawed at him every second of every day. At least tonight, he’d saved someone. At least tonight, he’d done something right. 

Now, on the ground, with the fire crackling before him, those memories felt closer than ever. Bellamy stared into the flames, his mind drifting to that night and to you.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze lifting to the stars above. Somewhere out there, you were still alive. At least, he hoped you were. He didn’t know why you’d left the camp—what had driven you away—but it didn’t stop him from missing you. From wondering. 

You were startled by the sound of footsteps, then a soft voice above you. “Hey, don’t you want to go to sleep?” 

Looking up, you saw Andria standing there, her expression gentle but curious, a small smile playing on her lips. The firelight danced across her face, illuminating her dark hair and the faint streaks of paint she always wore—a mark of her people, her identity. 

Andria was the first face you’d seen after you left the camp, wandering aimlessly through the woods, unsure of where you were going or what you were even looking for. She had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, cautious but kind. 

Despite your initial hesitation—and hers—it hadn’t taken long for her to extend a hand, guiding you to her village. That had been weeks ago, but the memory of her quiet strength still lingered in your mind. 

You smiled faintly, shaking your head. “Not yet. Just… thinking.” 

Andria chuckled softly, lowering herself onto the log beside you. “You think a lot,” she said, her tone light but laced with curiosity. “About what?” 

Your eyes flicked to the fire, the orange embers glowing against the darkened sky. “Everything. If I made the right choice. If this is where I’m supposed to be.” 

Andria tilted her head, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Do you think it’s not?” 

You hesitated, unsure how to answer. The village was good to you. They’d welcomed you, even though the start had been rocky. You could still remember the wary glances, the whispers in a language you didn’t yet understand. Some had questioned Andria’s decision to bring you there, an outsider with no tribe and no claim. But slowly, over time, the skepticism had faded. You’d learned their ways, earned their trust. 

Life here was quieter than the chaos of the camp or the ark. It was simpler. And yet, there were moments when your thoughts drifted back to the people you’d left behind, to the firelit nights and familiar voices. 

To him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it here,” you said finally, your voice soft. “It’s just… sometimes I wonder.” 

“Wonder about what?” 

Your chest tightened. About who, you thought but didn’t say. About Bellamy. About what he’d think if he knew you’d found a life here, one that didn’t include him. 

Andria’s gaze remained steady, and for a moment, it felt like she could see right through you. She had a way of making you feel seen, even when you didn’t want to be. 

“You’re allowed to wonder,” she said after a long pause. “That doesn’t mean you don’t belong.” Her tone was firm but kind, the words grounding you in a way you didn’t expect. 

You nodded slowly, letting her words sink in. It had been a long time since you’d felt like you belonged anywhere. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was enough. 

The fire cracked loudly, sending a small shower of sparks into the air. Andria glanced at it briefly before standing, brushing off her hands. “Get some rest,” she said, her voice softening. “Tomorrow’s another day. Plenty of time to think more then.” 

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the thin fabric of your tent, waking you gently. You stretched and rubbed your eyes, only to hear a familiar voice calling your name. 

“Hey, you awake?” 

Caro poked his head inside, grinning widely. He was one of the first grounders to truly warm up to you, his easygoing nature making it impossible not to like him. He was younger than Andria, with an almost boyish charm that reminded you of the friends you once had back on the ark. 

“You want to hunt with me today?” he asked, already holding his bow. 

You smiled and nodded, grabbing your own gear. Hunting was something you were still getting the hang of, but with Caro’s patience—and a fair bit of teasing—you were improving. 

The two of you set off, the village quickly disappearing behind you as you ventured into the dense woods. The ground was soft underfoot, leaves crunching faintly with every step. 

After a time, you noticed Caro’s pace quicken, his movements more purposeful. It wasn’t the usual meandering route he took while tracking. 

“Where are we going?” you asked, curiosity creeping into your voice. 

He turned to you with a grin. “I thought I’d show you my favorite spot,” he said, his tone bright with excitement. “It’s the best place for hunting. I’ve caught rabbits, wild turkeys—oh, and once, I even took down a buck there.” He started rambling about his past hunts, his enthusiasm infectious. 

You followed him, smiling at his stories, until he abruptly halted. He crouched low, scanning the trees ahead, before notching an arrow and shooting into the air with practiced precision. A bird fluttered down a few moments later, and he picked it up with a satisfied smirk. 

“Your turn,” he said, stepping aside to give you room. 

You tried your best to replicate his movements, drawing your bowstring tight and aiming at a bird perched on a branch. But your arrow veered wildly off course, snapping against a tree trunk instead. 

Caro laughed, a loud, carefree sound that made your cheeks burn. “Not bad,” he teased, though his tone was far too amused for your liking. 

Grumbling, you muttered, “You’re scaring away all the animals anyway.” 

He raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Fine, fine. You want to try your luck alone?” 

You nodded. “I’ll meet you back at the fire by sunset.” 

“Deal. Don’t get lost,” he added with a wink before turning to disappear into the trees. 

You rolled your eyes and set off in the opposite direction, determined to catch something on your own. The forest felt different when you were alone—quieter, yet somehow more alive. You could hear the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, and the faint trickle of a nearby stream. 

It was peaceful. Or at least, it was—until a sudden crackling sound behind you shattered the calm. 

Your heart leapt into your throat as you spun around, your bow instinctively raised. But the sight in front of you stopped you cold. 

Bellamy Blake was standing there. 

Your breath caught. For a moment, you thought you might be imagining him. He looked almost the same as you remembered, though his curls were wilder now, his face bloody, his clothes worn and dirty from life on the ground. His dark eyes locked on yours, wide with surprise. 

You lowered your bow slowly, unable to speak. 

You stared at him, frozen, your breath caught in your throat. Before you could even think of what to say, Bellamy stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt. 

Your bow slipped from your hand, clattering to the ground as his arms circled your waist, pulling you flush against him. His grip was firm, desperate, like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, fast and erratic, as though he was holding back a flood of emotions. 

Your arms stayed at your sides, too stunned to move, too overwhelmed to react. But as the shock faded, the memories began to surface, crashing over you like waves. 

You remembered the night he didn’t rat you out. How it took three days of gathering your courage to finally approach him, to thank him properly. You’d stammered through your words, but Bellamy had just smirked, brushing it off like it was nothing. 

You remembered how, after that, it felt like fate kept pulling you together. You’d bump into him in the halls, in the cafeteria, even during the rare free moments you thought were yours alone. And then one day, he decided to sit with you at lunch. 

It had started slowly, cautiously. A shared table here, a few exchanged words there. But soon, you were spending almost every moment together. Those lingering glances had become harder to ignore, his dark eyes holding onto yours a little longer each time. And then there were the nights when he’d open up to you, sharing thoughts and secrets he told no one else, trusting you in ways that made your heart ache. 

He’d introduced you to Octavia eventually, his tone cautious, protective, but with a flicker of pride in his eyes. And you’d loved her instantly. 

But then Octavia was discovered. Bellamy had turned to you that night, his face a mask of grief and fury as he stood infront of you. He had hugged you just like this—so tightly you could barely breathe, as though he could shield himself from the pain by holding onto you. 

And now, in this moment, it was the same. The same Bellamy, the same desperate need, the same unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. 

You felt your throat tighten as your hands moved almost involuntarily, slowly wrapping around him. His breath hitched when you returned the embrace, and for a moment, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his curls brushing against your skin. 

“You’re alive,” he whispered, the words trembling with relief. “You’re actually alive.” 

His voice broke something in you. You hadn’t realized how much you’d missed him until now. 

“I’m here,” you murmured, your voice quiet but steady. “I’m here, Bellamy.” 

For a while, neither of you moved, the forest fading into the background. It was just the two of you.

When he finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your waist, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to commit every detail to memory. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he admitted, his voice raw. “I thought—” He broke off, swallowing hard. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, the words feeling inadequate but true. 

His hands gently cupped your cheek, the touch so familiar that it sent a rush of emotions flooding through you. A small, relieved smile curved his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes—there was still that shadow of disbelief in them. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. 

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his touch linger, and fought the urge to crumble. The feeling of his hands on your skin felt like home, like it had always been this way. 

You hated how easily you slipped back into the rhythm of his presence, how it felt like you were ready to drop everything and stay with him, to forget about everything that had changed. 

But no. You couldn’t. You had made your choice. You were different now. 

With a deep breath, you took a small step back, distancing yourself from him, and his hand slowly fell from your cheek, then your waist. 

“Bellamy, you’re hurt,” you said softly, your gaze falling on his face. Blood streaked across his skin, a grim reminder of what he had just endured. 

His expression faltered as if he had only just realized the pain. He blinked, shaking his head slightly as the reality of what had happened seemed to sink in again. 

“The... the grounders attacked us,” he said, his voice distant for a moment, like he was still grappling with everything that had unfolded. 

He met your eyes again, his gaze searching you, as if trying to make sense of everything, trying to understand how you fit into all of this. “How are you alive?” he asked, his voice hoarse. 

You looked away, your heart pounding. The question stung, pulling you back to the harsh reality of why you were here. You reached down and grabbed your bow from the ground, the motion mechanical, something to ground you in the present. 

“I’m staying with...” You hesitated, the words coming out reluctantly, but you had to say them. “...Grounders.” 

Bellamy’s face tightened at the mention of the people who had just attacked his camp. You could see the battle inside him—the conflict between the bitter reality of what had happened and the relief of finding you alive, the person he had risked so much to protect. 

His eyes narrowed slightly as he processed your words, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders. “You’re staying with them?” He shook his head, like he couldn’t quite reconcile the idea. “After everything that happened?” 

You understood the confusion in his voice. To him, the grounders were the enemy. They were dangerous. They had attacked his camp, his family. And yet here you were, standing in front of him, alive, having made a life with them. 

But then, as if he realized something, his expression softened just a fraction. Those same grounders, the ones he had been fighting against, had saved you. You could see the internal battle play out in his eyes. 

He wanted to be angry, to demand you come back with him, but there was something else there too—something softer, something that had always been there, despite the wars between them. 

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Will you come back?” 

The question took you completely by surprise. Your mouth opened in shock as you stared at him, unsure if you’d heard him right. “What?” 

“Will you come back?” he repeated, his dark eyes softening, his tone quieter, almost pleading. His gaze lingered on you, taking in your state. He hadn’t expected this reunion, not like this, and yet here you were, standing in front of him, alive, and still so close to his heart. 

You felt torn. You’d spent so long trying to distance yourself from the camp, from the chaos of it all. You had found a place for yourself among the grounders, a place where you could breathe, where you could exist without constantly being on edge. 

But looking at him, seeing the way he was looking at you now, you realized just how deeply you still cared for him, how much a part of you still longed to go back to the life you had once known. 

Bellamy was still watching you, his eyes searching yours for any sign, any hint of an answer. His fingers twitched at his sides, as if he was ready to reach out to you again, to pull you back into his arms, to make everything right again. 

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat choking your voice. You wanted to say something, anything that would make sense, but your emotions were so tangled, so raw. 

“I...” You hesitated, the words tangled in your throat. “Bellamy, I can’t just... I can’t go back like it’s nothing.” 

He gently cupped your face again, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones, grounding you. “I don’t care about any of that,” he whispered. “I care about you. I always have. You’re the one I need, not some camp or some war. Just you.” 

His words broke through the walls you had built around yourself, and in that moment, you realized just how much you had wanted to hear them. The realization hit you like a wave—he hadn’t changed. 

He was still the Bellamy you had once trusted with your life, the same one who had fought for you, who had kept you safe even when the world seemed to be against you. 

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, letting his words sink in. You could feel his warmth, his presence surrounding you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so lost. 

Maybe you didn’t have all the answers. Maybe things would never go back to the way they were. But in this moment, you knew one thing for sure—Bellamy Blake was still the person you needed, even after all this time. 

Finally, you looked at him again, your eyes meeting his with the certainty you hadn’t felt in so long. “Okay,” you whispered. 

Bellamy’s face broke into a relieved smile, and for the first time since you’d seen him, the tension in his shoulders eased. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. It wasn’t going to be perfect. But maybe, just maybe, you could still find a way to make it work—together. 

And as Bellamy pulled you into another embrace, this one filled with more hope than before, you allowed yourself to finally believe that there was still something worth fighting for. 

[artemiisx]

Lovable ꨄ

| Reader x Bellamy Blake (set in s1)

| Summary: y/n thinks she’s unlovable. bellamy steps into her life and loves her anyway.

| CW: self-hatred, lying, bit of angst, mostly fluff, use of curse words, bow and arrow in action, no smut.

While sitting at the campfire with many others from the hundred—discussing how you should go about the grounders—your eyes fixate on bellamy. the way the flame light makes his skin glow, the sound of his laugh—warming. you catch yourself smiling and quickly drop it as you remember how you got here in the first place. you were a criminal, stole medicine for your sister that was needed for a another patient. A patient in which that medicine was their last hope. You may have saved your sister, but the guilt of being the reason someone died, forever lived with you. you didn’t deserve love.

bellamy on the other hand has always persisted on the fact you’re lovable. you’ve been close friends since childhood so you understood the love bellamy had for you was only platonic.

you snap back from your thoughts as you hear someone talking.

“y/n? you alright?” bellamy says to you as you look up.

“hm- oh, yeah i’m just tired.” you say rather convincingly, even though you’re aware bellamy can read right through it. a silence sits for a few seconds before everyone goes back to talking.

you sit for a second longer before walking back to your tent—lost in thought.

after rounding a corner, you get to your tent and step inside. continuing to reason with yourself that you need to stop thinking about bellamy like that. so.. romantically. you convince yourself once again— that you don’t deserve love from anyone—especially him. not him and his gorgeous smile; him and his warming laugh, him and the way he always knows what to say to comfort someone; the way he cares so much. you and him may be destined to be close friends, but nothing more.

before you can think more, bellamy unzips your tent, pausing to look at you before stepping in.

silence fills the room (or should i say tent.. HELP i’m sorry that was so bad) before bellamy speaks.

“your act is almost believable.” dragging out “almost” referring to your answer from earlier.

you pause and look at him with a defeated and exhausted face, trying to think of a legitimately believable excuse.

bellamy places his hands on his hips and cocks his eyebrows up—waiting for an answer. you’ve recently noticed his underlying sass radiating off of him at times like this. cocky as ever knowing he’s right about you lying.

you sigh.

“it’s just been a long a day, bell.” you say as you let out a light nervous-laugh of exhaustion—your hands running through the crown of your hair.

bellamy shifts, his presence everlasting in this awkward moment. but despite the awkwardness—his features soften, like he’s about to say something—but doesn’t.

he clears his throat before finally speaking;

“well, i’m going out with the hunters at first light if you wanna join.” he says with confidence and a hint of awkwardness.

he swiftly yet softly looks at you—hands still resting on his hips, waiting for your reply as he hopes you’ll join.

“it’ll be good for you to get out of your thoughts for a day..” he says softer than before.

you twiddle; picking at your nails as you respond.

“uh, yeah. sure.” you say, plastering look bellamy can’t read.

you know you won’t be able to get out of your thoughts if you’re walking along with bellamy, but maybe you’ll find a discovery in those woods you’ll be able to busy yourself with.

“alright then.” bellamy says—still standing there.

you look up and lift an eyebrow, wondering why he’s still there.

bellamy makes eye contact with you, and a silence engulfs the air between you. the silence lasts for about 3 seconds before words are spoken.

“ok. yep. thats all.” bellamy says as he removes his hands from his hips and walks out the tent.

an awkward and silent moment sits after he leaves.

————

you spent the entire night thinking about him, despite all your efforts not to. And lucky for you—you’re going hunting with him today.

——

you and a few others wait at the gate of the camp for the rest of the hunters, including bellamy, to join.

“morning princess. you look great.” bellamy says sarcastically—back to acting like his usual self.

you’re aware of the eye bags under your eyes, but its not like you can reply back admitting its his fault.

that stupidly beautiful man.

instead, you reply with a nod.

bellamy starts speaking to the group as the rest finally gather around. “alright everyone. listen up. today we’re sticking in groups of two.” bellamy says with a condescending-rich tone; handing out the list of pairs.

you look down at your paper to find your name.

y/n yl/n, with bellamy blake.

you pause in defeat once again—whispering “shit” under your breath as you see bellamy approaching in your peripheral vision.

“alright, lets go.” he says, speaking softly.

————

after walking a while in an awkward silence—and meaningless conversations of “how the weather’s been..”

you spot a two headed deer. big enough to feed a bunch. you grab bellamy’s shoulder; pulling you both down to crouch behind a log. bellamy spots the prey before asking what that was for—he stays quiet—watching you raise your bow and arrow.

a silence of focus fills the air as you’re lining up your aim. you try to focus, but can’t, since bellamy’s eyes are basically shooting lasers; focused on you. you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hoping to ignore it. you take a second, finally shooting. but missing the deer by an inch; hitting its leg.

you shut your eyes together and take a breath out, disappointed in yourself—as you lower your bow.

——

“let get going.” you say as you stand up, avoiding eye contact with bellamy.

he simply nods, placing his hands in his pockets.

————

only a few minutes pass when you spot the same deer; arrow still in its leg. this time you don’t wait to crouch behind a log or tree, but raise your bow immediately. hoping to hit and redeem yourself. but you cant seem to focus again. with bellamy’s presence—and him watching your every move.

bellamy notices you tensing up. he steps up behind you and wraps his arms around you, placing his hands on yours, helping to aim the arrow.

——

“just breathe.” he says sternly, yet in a soft whisper.

you take a breath in and relax against him.

you aim, and shoot once again—finally making this shot. you lower your bow and smile.

not facing bellamy, you speak. “for the record, i weakened it by hitting it earlier—so none of that was your help.” you say in a joking matter; turning toward bellamy and slightly smiling.

bellamy smirks as he places his hands back in his pocket, while taking a step back.

“right.” he says as he nods with a playful smirk on his face.

you and bellamy start to walk over to the lying deer.

…

“hey, y/n.” bellamy says with a more serious yet gentle voice.

you pause in nervousness before replying. “hey, bellamy.”

he acknowledges your playfulness, but keeps it serious.

“be honest with me. what was really going on with you last night?”

you dont respond immediately, allowing for bellamy to speak again.

“listen, if someone is bothering you—“he says before he gets cut off.

“no one is bothering me. im fine.” you say; keeping your face turned away from bellamy.

bellamy reaches out and gently grabs your shoulder to stop your walking—turning you towards him.

you look to the ground, or to the trees behind him, avoiding eye contact.

“you need to quit lying to me y/n. we’ve been close friends since forever, and recently i’m starting to think you hate me. you’re more comfortable around people you don’t know than me, and i—“ bellamy rambles until he gets cut off once again.

“for fucks sake, stop criticizing yourself please.” you say aggravated, not allowing him to take any blame. you fidget and shake your hands down with hyperness—before leaning up to kiss him.

——

you quickly lean back, understanding your grave mistake—you totally just ruined everything.

“i-“ you say before this time, you’re cut off—by bellamy holding your face and kissing you back.

your eyes widen as you realize the current situation. you hesitantly relax into his arms—placing your arms around his neck, and running your fingers through his hair.

bellamy’s hands lower to your waist as you both pull away for a breath of air.

bellamy smiles.

“i dont deserve this.” you mutter.

bellamy’s smile drops as he rolls his eyes. “oh shut up. please, you deserve love more than anyone—for what you’ve been through.”

you scoff playfully, “everyone deserves to be loved then. everyone goes through shit.”

bellamy scoffs—smiling, leaning in to kiss you once again. a soft yet gentle touch, his lips puffy from the recent kisses.

“see, only you would say something so caring and thoughtful for others—princess.” bellamy whispers—as he kisses your forehead.

a/n: hoped you enjoyed, bare with me as this is my first ff ᰔᩚ

word count: 1.5k

[macabre-mangled]

submissive bellamy…….save me submissive bellamy………….

Cece would you pretty please write a bellamy x grounder!reader fic where reader is part of the group Indra brings to Camp Jaha? Between S2 and S3. Bell and reader are bitchy to each other and when Bellamy challenges them, they put him in his place 🙂‍↕️

On Your Knees

Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader

A/N: Yesss yesss yess! also i have a feeling ik who sent this hehe

Warnings: Sub!Bellamy, canon typical violence, penetration, riding, oral (reader recieving), begging, degrading, name calling

Summary: Bellamy finds himself caring for someone he deemed the enemy. And he doesnt know what to do about it besides mouthing off. What happens when he bites off more than he can chew?

Trigedasleng used: Joka-fucker

Bellamy Blake was absolutely a dick. An utter jackass. And he knew this. Everyone knew this. With everything happening at Arkadia no one really blamed him. Well almost no one. The grounders that Indra brought would definitely disagree. So why did he find himself drawn to you; a grounder that hated his guts. Maybe it was because you were close in age or maybe it was because you were considered objectively attractive. Or maybe it was becuase you challenged him. Yeah, probably that.

Bellamy didnt know why, but he was absolutely in love with pushing your buttons. Actually thats a lie. He knew exactly why. But he would never admit it. He loved bring degraded. Maybe it was his undelrying issues. But he couldnt help but get a little semi anytime you called him an idiot in Trigedasleng.

Which is why he decided to take it up a notch. Like the glutton for punishment he is. Today he pushed you over the edge.

"You gonna kill a bunch of us sky people today or something?"

He had meant it casually, but the look it warranted from you was something he had never expected. And god did he love it. This is what got him hard.

"You should watch your mouth, joka."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

In hindsight he should have expected this. In fact he wanted it. Some part of him craving the punishment. So as you dragged him into your quarters he didn't protest. Not even when you pushed him onto the ground in front of you. Landing him on his knees.

"You thought i wouldnt punish you? Did you think i didnt notice the little hard-ons you got?"

Shit. You had him there. He doesnt even bother denying it. He just nods. Accepting his fate. His eyes widened comically large as you started undressing. Leaving yourself naked in front of him.

"You have to tell me you want this or I wont continue."

"Please, I want you so bad..."

You smirk, nodding. Watching as he strips out of his clothing. He was certainly eager. Waiting for your next instructions. Big brown eyes wide and reminds you of a deer. So as you strip slowly, his eyes follow you. Then you pull his face into your awaiting crotch. He immediately got to work. Mouth taking you with precision and experience. Tongue swirling and finding all the spots that make you scream and moan. All of this was for your pleasure. He ate at you like he hadn’t eaten in days and you were his oasis in the desert. His hips were grinding down, seeking friction as he continued his ministrations. You notice this and pull his face away. A string of saliva connects him to you. And he whines. He fucking whines.

“You couldn’t wait for me to ride you, could you? Naughty boy.”

Your words cause him to freeze before he starts begging.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll be such a good boy please…”

He almost slurs, his voice desperate. And you smirk before pushing him down. Climbing on top of him. Straddling his hips. He whimpers softly like you kicked him until you sink down onto him. His breath hitches and he moans. Whining and whimpering as you start moving your hips. His size was immense. His tip hitting every spot that has you reeling. You moan along with him.

“God…please don’t stop.”

“I won’t…you’re being such a good boy.”

It isn’t long before he cums. The buildup from before hitting him hard as he lets out the most pathetic high pitched whine. His body trembles in the aftershock. The feeling sends you over the edge too.

“See? Much better use of your mouth.”

[x-prettyboy-x]

Everyone but You

Hello. Im hyperfixated on the 100 rightnow and wanted to write a really quick thing for Murphy. PSA: I am half way through season 3‼️ Do not spoil things😭 if hes out of character, oops.

Pairing: John Murphy x F!Reader

Contents: Pretty much reader losing her fucking mind after Murphy comes back and the sickness starts to spread.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and violence, so on.

Wc; 1.1k

Masterlist

@ghastly-artist 🫶🏻

You hated most of the people in this camp. Not all. At least Finn and Clarke had a small lick of common sense, even if Clarke started the mob that almost got Murphy killed for something he didnt do, at least she tried to fix it. It was the least she could do.

You didnt agree with Murphys banishment. You understood why, you'd tried to talk him down when he went after Charlotte, truly you did. But he was so blinded by rage he wouldn't listen to even you. But banishing him? With the grounders everywhere and picking your group off one by one? No. You didnt agree. But there was nothing you could do.

You spent days searching the woods for a trace of him, just hoping to catch a glimpse of his face at least. But you never did. And you forced yourself to come to terms with the fact he was probably dead. And it was everyone at that camps fault. Bellamy and Clarkes fault.

Everyone at camp looked at you sideways. Not that it was new, they always did. They treated you like Murphys pet, and now that Murphy was gone, you were the only one left for them to treat like a criminal.

Thats why you spent most of your time outside the walls, always going back by nightfall. Almost always, anyway. Tonight wasnt one of those nights. So when you went back to camp well after nightfall, you were beyond confused to see the camp in a panic, people bleeding from their eyes, others their nose.

Clarke was yelling for everyone who was sick to get inside the dropship, to quarantine. "Everyone who's had contact with Murphy, get inside! This virus is spreading through contact, and its spreading fast."

You didnt care about anything she said after Murphys name was mentioned, you were already walking up to the door. But Clarke wasnt moving.

"You cant go in there. We dont know what this virus is. It could be deadly." She thinks shes being nice, caring. The oh so perfect leader. She wasnt. She was just pissing you off.

"Get out of my way, Clarke. You sent him away. I'll be damned if you keep me away from him too. Move."

"I cant do that."

"Clarke either get the fuck out of my way or I will make you move." She finally moved.

You pushed past her and stepped inside, quickly scanning the room and your heart dropped when you finally spotted Murphy. Face covered in blood, clearly beaten, laid on his back and coughing up blood. The others were being tended to. Not Murphy. Of course not.

You ran over and kneeled down beside him, moving his hair out of his face and rolling your eyes when he pushed your hands away, "dont touch me."

"Murphy, hey. You need to get on your side, please."

"Im serious, dont touch me! You'll get sick. Everyone here could bleed out and die for all I care, everyone but you." He was struggling to speak, struggling to breathe, his words coming out between coughs and gasps.

"John.. if you're sick, and it kills you? I'd follow right after you anyway, you know that. Just like I did on the Ark. Now please.. let me get you on your side."

He sighed and stopped fighting, letting you roll him onto his side and spit up the blood that just wouldn't stop coming.

You knew Murphy on the Ark. Before his dad got floated, Before he set the fire. You may or may not have helped him to set said fire. Sure, you got locked up too. But at least you both got sent to the ground together. The Ark wasnt worth being on without him there, would've gotten yourself floated.

You grabbed a wet cloth from the bowl sitting near by, using it to try and clean some of the dry blood from his face so you could see the damage, apologizing quietly everytime he winced. "What happened?"

He slowly sat up and leaned back against the wall, shaking his head "Grounders. They found me and locked me up in their camp. Tortured me for days, until they forgot to lock my cage and I ran off. But apparently.. it wasnt an accident. Ive become a weapon according to Clarke."

"I looked for you for days, John. Please dont think I agreed with them. I begged Clarke and Bellamy for days to change their minds. No one would listen to me either." You sighed, continuing to clean the blood on his hands and his arms.

"Yeah, I know."

You stayed by his side until the virus came and went, losing a few people from the camp in that time. But not Murphy, and that's all that mattered.

But now, you stood in Bellamys tent with Clark by his side, Murphys hands tied behind them.

"Hes dangerous, you know that. He cant stay here." The first words out of Clarke's mouth. Of course.

"Dangerous? Tell me princess, who was it tending to his wounds and giving him water? Cause it damn sure wasnt you. I helped him while you ran around and helped everyone else. And he got up and helped everyone else too once he got better. He is not a threat. If you send him out there again, he will die. The only reason he isn't dead now is because he was made into a fucking weapon. Which never would've happened if you had just kept your mouth shut instead of accusing him of a crime he didnt commit!"

"Thats enough!" Bellamy sighed, slamming his hands on the table in front of him. "Murphy stays. But he is your responsibility. If he so much as looks at someone wrong in this camp, you're both gone."

"Fine."

-

"Murphy. You cant just sit here all day, you have to eat. And you need to let me clean your wounds before they get infected." You set a bowl of water down by the makeshift bed that you two shared, ringing out the cloth and trying to clean the gash on his arm, but he pulled away.

"Im fine. You've been treating me like a child for days. Im not gonna die in the next five minutes."

You scoffed and put the cloth back in the bowl, sending a glare towards him "Murphy, Im serious. Now isn't the time for you to be-"

Murphy grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto the bed with, pinning your hands above your head underneath him.

"For the 100th time, I'm fine. Let me take care of you for a change, yeah?" You loved that smug look. Always cocky and so sure of himself.

You were already pulling your hands free to sit up and pull your top off "Dont have to tell me twice."

[misscherry-26]

feel free to ignore my request but i was thinking maybe something like how in season 3 Bellamy was with Gina and she wasn't part of the 100 who got sent down, like maybe something like that with reader? like how they got together?

(i just think that would be cute maybe 🫢)

With You, I'm calm.

Pairing: Bellamy Blake x reader

Warnings: none.

Author's Note: Hi, I hope you like it! I know it's been a while, but I've been busy and blocked with all the writing stuff. I'm happy that I was able to do this. More to come soon!!

~ Mistakes to be corrected later ~

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The woods were quiet.

Somewhere, far behind you, camp buzzed with unusual tension —but out here, It was like the Earth forgot about all that. It was peaceful, for once.

You hadn't planned on walking this far, but you couldn't help it, Earth is beautiful. Even with the danger, even with everything that had happened, you were still in love with it. Hopelessly, fully, like you’d waited your whole life to be here.

You followed the sound of rushing water until the forest opened up, revealing a cliff draped in wildflowers and framed by sunlight. Below, a river sparkled through the trees, and the wind carried the scent of blossoms and fresh air.

You knelt in the grass, reaching for a cluster of violet flowers bending in the breeze.

“That one’s poisonous, you know.”

You yelped, jerking your hand back and nearly falling over. You spun around to find a tall figure stepping out from the trees.

He was handsome — in that rugged, seen-too-much kind of way — arms crossed, curls tousled, eyes gleaming with mischief.

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

He raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Just wanted to see if you’d panic.”

Your jaw dropped slightly. “Seriously?”

He shrugged, stepping closer. “You looked way too peaceful. Had to shake things up."

You scoffed, brushing off your hands as you stood. “Do you always sneak up on strangers in the woods and fake poison warnings?”

“Only when the view’s this good.”

You opened your mouth to argue, then caught the way he was looking — not at the flowers, but at you. Your cheeks warmed.

He extended a hand. “Bellamy.”

You hesitated, saying your name to him while shaking his hand. His grip was warm and steady.

You didn’t know it then, but that would be the beginning of everything.

From quiet glances across the halls of Arkadia to shared patrols that turned into conversations, and conversations that turned into something softer. He didn’t talk much about the past, but he listened to you. Always.

He showed you how to build a fire, how to spot traps, how to tell a grounder trail from an animal’s...

You taught him how to slow down, just a little.

Sometimes he brought you wildflowers he’d picked on patrol. “Not poisonous,” he’d say with a smirk.

You kept every single one, dried and hidden in your bunk.

Some nights, when the weight of his decisions seemed too much to carry, he would find you — silently, almost by accident. You’d sit with him under the stars, shoulder to shoulder, no words needed.

When the others whispered about alliances and betrayals, when anger boiled in the camp, you would touch his hand — a grounding touch — and remind him he wasn't alone.

He taught you survival. You taught him stillness.

There were nights he showed up at your bunk, too tense, too broken to pretend. He wouldn’t say what haunted him, but you didn’t ask. You just pulled him in, wrapped your arms around him, and let him bury his face in your shoulder until his breathing evened out.

You were the quiet voice that pulled him back when guilt tried to drown him.

You called him by his name like it was something worth saving.

There was no big confession or grand romantic speech.

It happened late, after a long day on watch. You were both sitting near the fence, watching the sun dip behind the trees. A rusted old can sat a few yards away, and Bellamy tossed a stone at it without much aim — but somehow knocked it over first try.

You whistled. “Show-off.”

He smirked. “Think you can do better?”

You scoffed, picked up a rock, and lobbed it — only to watch it sail way off target, hitting absolutely nothing.

Bellamy burst out laughing, the kind of laugh that warmed the cold edges of the night.

“Wow,” he teased. “Deadly.”

You shoved him lightly with your shoulder, grinning. “Maybe I’m saving my skills for real enemies.”

“Yeah, sure you are,” he said, picking up another stone and handing it to you. “Try again.”

You took it, narrowed your eyes, and gave it your best shot. It still missed by a mile.

“Hopeless,” Bellamy said with mock sympathy, nudging you back.

You pretended to glare. “I’m not that bad.”

“You are,” he said, smiling. “But... it’s kinda nice. Not everyone has to be good at everything.”

You dropped the rock and turned to look at him, surprised by the softness in his voice.

Bellamy shifted a little closer, his knee brushing yours. He hesitated, like he was thinking too much, then said, “You know... I don’t really want to do this without you anymore.”

Your stomach flipped, heart skipping.

He wasn’t asking. He wasn’t making speeches.

It was just Bellamy — honest, real, maybe a little scared. You smiled, heart pounding, and leaned in before you could overthink it.

The kiss was easy, natural — like breathing. Like it had always been there, waiting. When you pulled back, both of you a little breathless, Bellamy rested his forehead against yours, chuckling low under his breath.

“Guess that makes it official,” he said.

You laughed, shoving his chest lightly. “You’re terrible at this.”

“Yeah, well. You’re terrible at throwing rocks,” he teased.

You smiled so wide your cheeks hurt.

And that was it.

No speeches. No promises. Just two people choosing each other in a world that had taken almost everything else.

[weirdlookingsnakewithlegs]

Hit me with a feral Star clip

You get what you ask for, roll the clip!

Hungry

Words: 1091

Seekers were known for being a more… base coded cybertronian life form. Much more intune with their surroundings and environment than most bots. Starscream was no avid exception and Megatron would be lying if he said he wasn’t the least bit interested by the seeker’s strange behavior.

What got his attention in the beginning was the chirps and beeps, so close to a sparklings needy whining that he almost thought he’d accidentally put a youngling in charge of his Air Command. Only to come to the shocking surprise that it was simply a part of the Vosian language. The use of fields and wings along with the chirps and beeps made a language that a grounder like him would never understand.

In the beginning it was nothing more than a fun tidbit, an interesting piece of information, but as time went on other behaviors started to set in. Starscream’s way of marking things was certainly one, he had quickly taken notice that the seeker had been purposefully clawing the walls of the Nemesis and scratching his very plating against sharper corners. The worst part was that his trine would follow suit, copying their leader until the entire Nemesis was marked in scoring.

It didn’t help that Ravage was encouraged by the clawing.

Along with the clawing, seekers were apparently rather vocal. He had seen it in the trines, how one would chirp and they would all go back and forth until they were bored. With Starscream’s trine however, it would last joors. Skywarp always started it, though it seemed that Starscream was too competitive to be the last and Thundercracker gained amusement out of Starscream’s growing annoyance.

Skywarp once got Megatron to beep back at him but the Decepticon leader would never admit such a fumble.

As chaotic and strange as the seekers were, they were useful and so Megatron could take their odd behavior with a grain of salt. Of course, he would soon come regret being so lenient.

It was supposed to be peaceful, just a quick touch and go with Soundwave about a possible supply of energon. Half way through their discussion screaming and the banging of metal began down the hall. Obnoxiously loud pedesteps quickly approaching along with the roar of thrusters.

Annoyance quickly gave way to confusion as Megatron shared a look with Soundwave. Voices down the hall screaming obscenities, similar things he had heard in the Pits of Kaon. Specifically, curses in ones name when things weren’t going the crowds’ way. Well, confusion often gives way to curiosity and Megatron peaked out of the doorway.

The sight before him was something he certainly hadn’t expected. A turbofox, a very terrified turbofox had apparently stowed away on the ship, now running from what Megatron could only assume was a very upset Starscream. It was difficult to tell exactly what Starscream was feeling as he couldn’t see his face while the seeker was in alt mode, but he concluded it to be simply from the chase.

He wasn’t expecting Starscream to suddenly transform midair to slam into the poor creature.

He also wasn’t expecting Starscream to grab onto the turbofox’s neck and tear out its main fuel line. He didn’t even give it time to deactivate before he started eating it. Oh sweet Primus, what the frag.

Shock gripped his frame and it didn’t allow him to warn Soundwave about the sight before him. Unfortunately the third in command also got an eyeful and had quickly turned to look away from the increasingly mangled body. Megatron barely even noticed the slowing pedesteps before Motormaster appeared on the other side of Starscream, along with the other sunticons.

“I told you not to let it go with Starscream around.” Dragstrip hisses.

“How was I going to know he’d fragging hunt it down!” Dead End snaps in response.

Megatron cycles his optics, focusing on the pooling energon around the turbofox’s body as the seeker eagerly tears into its frame. It’s almost terrifying to watch and a few of the stunticons are turning their heads, Soundwave, as well, seems rather uncomfortable. The crunch and scraping of metal is very much unappreciated yet the overlord is at a loss on how to make the seeker stop. His words are failing him at the moment.

After a few moments of hesitation, he takes a step forward only to be immediately snapped at. Starscream’s servo is clinging to his kill while his engine fiercely revs with a freezing growl. Fangs flash dangerously and Megatron barely manages to react before Starscream is tearing into the creature with further intensity. He steps back, deciding it would be best to not lose a digit to the apparently hungry seeker.

He’s so focused on Starscream that he nearly jumps when he hears the sunticons exclaim and he looks up just in time to see Skywarp and Thundercracker barreling through the group to join Starscream. Hissing and snapping ensues, wings flaring before they fall back with little twitches. An understanding seems to happen as the three now eagerly ravage into the deactivated creature.

“Soundwave: uncomfortable.” He hears his third in command speak behind him. Megatron could say the same yet he can’t tear his optics away, especially when Starscream suddenly stops eating to watch Skywarp and Thundercracker take their fill. The seeker opts to lick his energon-covered frame clean, glossia slowly raking over his talons before they retract. His wings twitch and flitter behind him, frame adjusting until he has lifted himself to his pedes. He notices the way the seeker hovers over his trine mates, protective in every way except verbal. The look he gives Megatron almost seems like he’s challenging the Decepticon leader to just try and take his prize.

“Starscream.” The seeker shifts, wings hiked up behind him. “I expect ferocity like this on the battlefield, not wasted on some loose turbofox.”

Starscream’s expression immediately grows snarky, “Apologies Lord Megatron, my tanks were low and couldn’t pass up a good meal. If you have an issue with us not starving you can kindly-“

Megatron holds his servo up, “I was… unaware that your seekers needed more energon and.. metals.”

Expressions switched on a shanix, snarkiness now given way to anger. “Unaware?! I sent you several files on seekers! You stamped them!”

Megatron’s expression drops and he cautiously looks to Soundwave who turns his head away and starts back into the meeting room.

He almost wasn’t prepared for Starscream to launch himself at him in yet another attempt for his life. Though, perhaps this one was deserved.

[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.

[anjellaufeyson]

Hate with attraction - Bellamy Blake

I hated Bellamy and despised him since the beginning. He always had to counter my arguments and disagree with me on every move I made. Every step I took–he criticized. The feeling of hatred was mutual, I never failed to return the remarks he made.

           Bellamy brushed past as if I weren't there, yet he still managed to whisper, “You're falling behind.” 

           I picked up my pace as we walked through the forest. The whole hunting group was filled with all my friends–besides Bellamy. I shoved him almost into a tree, “Catch up soldier boy.” 

My best friend, Octavia turned around while walking, and Bellamy glared at me. “I get Bellamy is an ass but why can't you guys just get along?”

I could feel his stare on me, “Your brother started it on day 1 of coming back to earth. The power must’ve gone to his hollow head, can’t say more than that–” My words were cut off at the sound of arrows flying past us. 

“Grounders,” Bellamy yelled. 

Clarke and Monty spread out of their spot because that’s where most of the fire was, “Guys we have to split up! We all have intercoms so once it’s safe we’ll come back together.” 

Octavia reached for my hand but missed me by a couple of inches, an arrow grazed my palm and cut me, “Just go,” I yelled. She ran away but was hesitant. I was about to reach for my gun before a hand stopped me–Bellamy. 

“We have time to run, don’t waste your bullets.”

I crouched down with him so no one gets hurt again, “If you keep ordering me around, I’m about to waste one.” 

He groaned as he grabbed me and we both made a run for it, “Keep this shit up and maybe I’ll throw you to the grounders.” 

I pushed him off me as we walked into a tiny cave for cover, “I’d rather be with them than you,” I mumbled. 

“What was that princess,” he asked knowing he heard every word I said. His anger was pissing me off. He ripped a part of his shirt off and began wrapping it around my cut.

“I hate when you call me that.” He only called me that because my father is Kane and he won’t let go that I’m “privileged” just like Clarke. “I didn’t make the rules on the ship, It’s not my fault that–”

He pulled hard on the tie he was making causing me to wince in pain, “Don’t finish that sentence.” Bellamy glanced up at me then annoyingly back at my cut as he wrapped it to perfection–I hated how good he was at helping when I needed it. “I know it’s not your fault but your father and every privileged person on that ship let her die for what reason? Because she had one more kid?” 

“You know the rules,” I spoke lowly. It was a sensitive topic and even though I hated his guts and wouldn’t mind if he got floated, I did sympathize. I never liked what happened and the fact no one could have siblings. “The more space taken by more kids would’ve left us overpopulated Bell–” I paused when talking, his nickname Octavia slipped out so easily. 

He looked up at me whilst still holding my hand even though the t-shirt bandage was as good as it was going to get. “I’m sorry she was floated, but it was the rules. And you know the Ark was already overpopulated enough. That’s why they sent us down here in the first place, the stupid 100 who had to risk their criminalistic lives for the others.” This topic always got me upset, not sad but mad. My father, Jaha, and Clarke's mom, Abby, were all willing to risk our lives as if we were all test subjects. 

“We mean nothing to them, that’s why I was so hell-bent on making sure all of the 100 could survive.”

I rolled my eyes remembering this wasn’t a friend I was talking to, “No, Bellamy you wanted all of us to remove our locators so that you could make sure they didn’t come down here because your reckless ass shot Jaha. I understand it was for Octavia but don’t act as if you’re some hero.” 

He pressed down on my wound before dropping his hand, “I never said I was. You always think you’re better than me.” 

I went to punch Bellamy but he moved out of the way, I was always good at hand-to-hand, my father got me a trainer, one of the guards. I knew how to fight, shoot, plant, etc. I was built to survive as if he’s been planning this forever. I smiled as I ducked the attack he threw at me, “You can only stand your ground because of the training you and Lincoln did together.” I went to kick him but he caught my leg, kicks were the one thing I couldn’t get the hang of. 

“Learn to be faster, princess,” he had a tiny grin on his face as he twisted my leg so I was hopping. 

I’d never give him the satisfaction of beating me, I kicked my leg again and got out of his grip. I elbowed him and punched him. His lip began to bleed, he had a smile on his face as his finger touched his lip. “Better,” he whispered. 

I went to hit him again but he blocked it and turned me around and kicked behind my leg causing me to fall onto one knee. He grabbed my hair, not too rough to hurt me but enough to move my head so I’d look up at him. “Train more and maybe you’ll beat me.” 

Slowly I rose and hit him at his throat causing him to back up. Not hard enough to hurt him but enough so he’d fuck off. I regained enough strength to cause him to lose his balance, then I got him to hit his back onto the ground. I kept my knee on his chest as I looked down at him, “You’ll never beat me, Bellamy. And I don’t think I’m better than you–” Our breaths filled the cave, “I know I am.” 

I stayed with my knee on his chest until he gave me a look that I couldn’t comprehend. His lips parted and he moved in to kiss me. I don’t know why but I didn’t back away, I took my knee off of his chest slowly. His fingers slipped into my hair and he pulled me deeper in. He kissed me roughly and I could taste the hate he held for me. Then he pushed me with a betrayal of a smile, “Never let your guard down, princess.” 

I made myself look hurt, he stepped closer and I pulled him in for a kiss. He seemed hesitant but easily fell into it. I bit down on his lip causing him to wince in pain. He dragged his tongue along his bottom lip, blood was dripping more than before. 

I pushed him away from me, I hated him now more than before. But God, I’d kiss him again with hate once more if given the chance. “Never let your guard down, Bell.” 

Suddenly Octavia ran into the cave looking frantic, “Jesus, did the grounders attack you guys?” 

Bellamy and I shared a glance, I turned back to Octavia and smiled as if I wasn’t in pain. “No, no we made it out. Well not without one price to pay,” I said as I held my hand up. 

Octavia looked shocked, she now realized our words were no longer threats, they were promises. “Bellamy,” she said in confusion but also her annoyance was beginning to focus on both of us for being stupid enough to fight each other. “O,” he said while walking past her. I stopped walking so I could talk with Octavia. He turned to me and whispered, “Next time you won’t get off that easily.” I paused, next time?

[radioactiverats]

i love your writing style!! what're your thoughts on sleepy starscream?

Mentor Starscream x Seeker!reader (28/?)

*Blows dust off inbox* Thank you so much! Apologies for the wait but I loved this prompt :,)

———

You sprawl out on the berth, glancing over at where Starscream was hunched over datapads and contributing new lexicon to the standard Cybertronian dictionary under the category of swears.

Starscream was busy.

Well, Starscream was always busy. Except this recent period had hit him really, really hard, and the reason for it was obvious.

The groundbridge was broken.

“Slagging - bot fragging son of a Cessna - the Celestial Spires have never seen witnessed anything as moronic as - when I get my servos on those pistol-lickers-!”

You wince.

Firstly, the frustration was evident in his glitchy vocaliser.

Secondly, what he’d said made barely any sense.

Your optics narrow. Now that was cause for concern.

He’d been running on fumes for the better part of two weeks. You’d barely seen him in the daytime, let alone at night after curfew. Curling up on your own, shivering on a berth that felt far too big, had become your new normal. You drifted in and out of recharge until Starscream would, if you were lucky, come back at what you estimated to be close to sunrise to chide you for not switching the lights off.

“I left them on in case you came back,” You’d mumbled, after the third time. Starscream didn’t have the spark to tell you off after that.

Still, he never stayed long. The longest he’d stayed in those two weeks was when you, emotional centre thrown off balance from your fitful recharge, stubbornly clung onto his servo and refused to let go. Starscream stayed until you’d fallen asleep again, long enough to stop your crying. When you woke up again, he was gone, but you discovered that someone had cancelled your shift that day.

Anyway. You shake yourself out of memories to focus on the present. Chronic sleep deprivation was no good for any mech, but it seemed Starscream had taken that as a personal challenge. Had it been a competition, he’d surely have blown the opposition out of the water in terms of who-could-stay-awake-the-longest. The prize, however, was becoming kind of… loopy.

Just as you’re pondering the best way to approach him without risking an instinctive null ray to the faceplate, a comm comes from Knock Out.

Is he asleep yet?

You scowl, displeasure mounting.

So I’m guessing he was released from duty out of necessity.

A pause.

Ding ding ding.

Another pause.

He’s not asleep, is he? Think you can get him to drink some spiked energon?

Why do you have spiked energon?

Sweetspark, spiked energon is the least of your worries on this ship.

You snort. All the same, you’re actually not too keen on the idea, even if Knock Out means well. NightByte had said something about it before - fliers didn’t mesh well with drugs used by grounder frame types. Something about it overstimulating the fight-or-flight response in flight frames - whose coding tended to be on edge as is. You sneak another glance at Starscream, who’s now adding new lexicon to the Vosian dialect. All the same, something had to be done.

Let me try to get him to berth. I’ll comm you if I need help.

Sure. Good luck.

Lol

Your scowl deepens.

“Sir.”

Starscream appears not to hear you, and the vocabulary grows increasingly inventive.

You slide off the berth and stomp over to him. Enough is enough.

“Sir!”

He whirls around, and you duck on instinct to avoid a null ray - but nothing comes.

You glance up, and Starscream’s staring almost confusedly at you, clearly too exhausted to even have instincts, let alone respond to them.

“Cadet. I’m working. What is it? Shouldn’t you be recharging?”

“You should be the one recharging. Come on, let’s go to berth…”

“I’m fine. I have things to do. Don’t you have an early shift tomorrow?”

Your spark warms. Despite his slightly loopy state, he’d still somehow remembered your weekly schedule.

“Sir, you need recharge. You’ve already finished most of your work tonight.”

You reach for his servo, hanging limply by his side. “Come on.”

“Cadet-“

“You needed recharge, like, ten days ago.”

“I have to finish this-“

“What could be more important than having a functioning frame?”

You abruptly give up on tugging at his servo and start trying to push his chair towards the berth.

Yes, you were fully aware that he was a full size class above you - perhaps even two - but it didn’t stop you from trying. The chair budges half an inch.

Starscream watches you, a bit to bewildered to respond.

“Cadet, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” You grunt. “Getting you to berth.”

Primus.

“Why are you so heavy?” You mutter.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Desperate times call for desperate measures. You activate your heel thrusters.

“Cadet-! For Primus’ sake-!”

Much better. The chair scoots a whole foot closer to your goal.

“Stop that!” Starscream roars, when it’s clear you’re not giving up. You tell yourself it’s because he’s so sleep-deprived that he hasn’t actually responded aside from gripping his chair for dear life - and not because it’s the first time one of his students has tried to rocket-propel him into berth.

Suddenly, two servos descend on your shoulders, and your thrusters sputter.

For a moment, your harsh ex-vents are all that fill the habsuite.

“Stubborn brat,” Starscream finally says, optics flickering as he stares at you. “Does it matter so much to you whether I recharge or not?”

You allow a bit of the offence you feel to slip onto your faceplate.

“Of course it does.”

Starscream studies you a klik longer, but you can see the exhaustion catching up to him now that you’d disrupted his momentum with work.

Good.

“Fine,” He groans, and finally, finally, gets up from his desk.

You watch as he practically collapses onto the berth. It’s a few kliks of watching him attempt to arrange his limbs into something resembling a comfortable position before you realize he’s literally too tired to even move properly.

Wow, you think. That was quick.

“Here,” You mutter, guiding his wings into a more relaxed position. His wings relax promptly under your touch, and he lets out a noise that sounds more like a crackle than any cohesive word.

You drag his chair next to the berth and climb up on it, pulling your knees to your chassis and shivering. Primus, did it have to get so cold at night?

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know if anything happens.”

It takes a moment. You watch as Starscream scrunches his faceplate in confusion, struggling to comprehend your words before he struggles to blink his optics open.

“You’re not recharging?”

“I thought you’d feel better with me keeping watch.”

Starscream makes an admirable effort to keep his optics open before surrendering. Still, even with his optics shuttered, he has no trouble frowning at you.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Come here.”

“Are you sure…?”

“I won’t ask again.”

Well. Your chilled frame won’t say no to warmth, especially when Starscream’s so generously offering. Especially when he’s offering what’s probably going to be the best recharge you’ve had in two weeks. Especially when -

“…I missed you.”

“Hm?” Starscream mutters, as he wraps his arms around you. “What was that?”

You tuck your wings closer to your frame so you can press your back right against his chassis. Mm. Warm.

“Nevermind.”

Starscream just grunts - mildly irritated at not knowing yet too tired to really care - and ex-vents long and low. His engines purr, a low vibration against your back.

“Don’t wake me up.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, sir.”

He noses the back of your neck.

“And don’t think about sneaking off, either.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“…Don’t go.”

You pause. You could pass that off as mindless exhaustion, slurred incoherently against your neck cabling. But it felt strangely genuine, and you feel bad not responding to something that feels almost uncomfortably close to a confession.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say softly.

You wait, but he doesn’t respond, instead just tightening his arms around your middle.

You tentatively settle your servos atop his own, but it’s too soon for you to relax. Air leaves your vents in a hard whoosh as the weight of his leg comes down to pin yours, effectively sealing your fate as the Air Commander’s glorified teddy bear.

Internally, you sigh. Of course, even incredibly sleep-deprived, he could only rest easy when he’d done something about it.

Oh, well. You might as well take a nap.

———

Your internal chronometer pings you a few hours later, rudely jolting you from what had been the best recharge you could remember in a long time. Your emotional centre tries to get it together as you try to convince yourself that a few more minutes of recharge would not be worth the consequences for being late - luckily, your logic centre comes online first, and you reluctantly push yourself up.

And freeze, when you feel a pair of arms tighten around you.

Starscream.

Right.

How had you forgotten? You look down, and see Starscream’s helm more or less in your lap, his arms circled stubbornly around your waist. Unfortunately, while Starscream could recharge as long as he wanted (Doctor’s orders), the same couldn’t be said for you.

“Sir, I have morning shift,” you whisper.

He responds with a noise that quite clearly translates to immense dissatisfaction. Rubbing his cheek against your thigh, his faceplate scrunches before he squints sleepily up at you. “With who?”

At the mech’s designation, his noise of disgust makes itself known against the soft mesh of your stomach.

“Useless son of a glitch. He could do with being left on his own for once. Then maybe he’ll learn something.”

His arms tighten possessively around you, like a petulant sparkling unwilling to relinquish his favourite toy to the servos of another.

“Are you saying that mech is more important than staying here with me?”

“N-no,” You stutter. “But-“

Starscream lazily lifts a servo to his comm. You watch, intake agape as he promptly and thoroughly, gleefully, smugly, even, abuses his powers as Second-in-Command to excuse you from your shift. All so he could have more cuddles.

You blink, still taking in what had just happened as Starscream stretches lazily beside you.

He insistently tugs you closer until you’re lying back down, frame curling securely around yours again with a self-satisfied ex-vent.

Oh, well.

You shuffle even closer to him, allowing yourself to relish the way his arms tighten around you.

Might as well take another nap about it.

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NightByte belongs to @quasarwake and will be a future flock member !!