#Skikru | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maddie0101 · 2 months ago

Text

𖠰 weathering the storm

𖠰 paring: bellamy blake x fem!reader

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

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

𖠰 word count: 5k

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m driving,” he pointed out.

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

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

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

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

You chuckled, settling deeper into your seat. Moments like these weren’t uncommon between you and Bellamy. Ever since the drop ship had landed on Earth, you’d gone from barely tolerating each other to being inseparable. At first, you’d clashed. His reckless leadership, your stubborn defiance, both of you constantly butting heads. But somewhere along the way, arguments had turned into mutual respect. Respect had turned into friendship. And now…

Now, you weren’t entirely sure what it was.

Because there were moments like now—where his smirks lingered just a second too long, where his teasing carried an edge of something softer. Moments where his presence felt too comfortable, too familiar. Moments where you had to remind yourself that he was your best friend, nothing more.

Even if sometimes, it felt like he could be. But before you could dwell on it, static crackled through the radio.

Bellamy sighed, reaching for the receiver. “Go ahead.”

“This is Kane,” your father’s voice came through, sharp and clear. “We need you two to divert from your patrol.”

You straightened, instantly on alert.

Bellamy exchanged a glance with you before responding, “What’s going on?”

“One of the kids from the hundred, Talia—went out on a supply run this morning. She hasn’t reported back.”

Your stomach tightened. Talia. She was one of the original delinquents. The ones who had landed with you, Bellamy, and Clarke. The ones you had sworn to protect.

Bellamy sat up a little straighter, all humor from before fading. “How long has she been missing?”

“Long enough,” Kane said. “Her last radio check-in was hours ago. We need you to find her before nightfall.”

You didn’t hesitate. “We’re on it.”

The radio cut out and Bellamy was already turning the rover around. His grip on the wheel was tight, his expression set in stone. You could see it—the weight settling over him, the same way it always did when it came to your people.

“We’ll find her,” you said, quieter now.

Bellamy nodded once, jaw clenched. “Yeah. We have to.”

The journey toward Talia’s last known location wasn’t easy. The roads were rough, the ground still damp from the last storm. The rover jolted with every deep groove in the earth, and navigating the terrain was like playing a dangerous game of chance. You had just started to think you might actually make it without issue when the wheels suddenly spun out.

The rover lurched forward before sinking deep into the mud with a sickening squelch. The engine growled as Bellamy tried to gun the throttle, but the tires only spun, flinging wet earth into the air.

“Shit,” Bellamy muttered, gripping the wheel tighter. He tried again. Nothing.

You exhaled, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “Tell me we’re not stuck.”

Bellamy muttered another curse before shutting off the engine. “We’re stuck.”

You pushed open the door, immediately sinking up to your ankles in the mud. “Great.”

Bellamy got out of the rover, boots squelching in the thick sludge and came over to your side. He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the tires. The rover was buried deep, way too deep to just drive out of.

“We’re gonna have to dig it out,” you said.

Bellamy let out a sharp breath. “Yeah. Because that’s totally gonna work.”

You shot him a look. “You got a better idea?”

He hesitated, rubbing his forehead. He was stressed, and you could tell. His shoulders were tense and his jaw was set. You knew that look. He was already thinking about how they were wasting time. How every second spent here was a second Talia could be in danger.

“Hey,” you said, softer now. “We’ll get it out.”

Bellamy exhaled, nodding. “I know. Just—let’s hurry.”

You grabbed a branch, hoping to use it as a makeshift shovel, and started working at the mud around the tires. Bellamy did the same, his hands digging into the thick, wet earth.

But then the first drop fell. It landed on the back of your hand and a sharp, burning pain followed immediately. You hissed at the pain but before you could react, Bellamy hissed from beside you.

You quickly lifted your gaze up to the sky, but as you did it seemed like the sky opened up. Within seconds that one tiny drop of rain turned into thousands, all sending sharp burning sensations wherever the rain hit your body. The pain was instant and agonizing. You'd never felt something like this before.

“Acid rain—” Bellamy’s voice barely cut through the the storm.You barely sucked in a breath before Bellamy grabbed your wrist, yanking you toward the rover. “Go! Go!” His voice was sharp, urgent, but the pain was worse. Your clothes were already smoking, the rain eating through the fabric like it was nothing. The rover was just a few feet away, but every step was agony. Your boots sunk into the mud, legs straining as the downpour pummeled your body. Bellamy reached the door first, swinging it open before practically shoving you inside.

You barely got into the back before he was scrambling in after you, slamming the door shut behind him. For a moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the storm raging outside. But the burning was agonizing.

“Shit.” Bellamy’s voice was tight, hoarse, his hands already yanking at his soaked jacket. “Get it off—now!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your jacket hit the floor in an instant, but it wasn’t enough. The acid had already soaked through, searing into your skin. Your hands trembled as you fumbled with your shirt, trying to tear it off as quickly as possible.

Across from you, Bellamy was doing the same—his fingers clawing at his shirt, desperate to rid himself of the burning fabric. His skin was red, raw, and he winced as he ripped the material over his head.

You weren’t fast enough. Your shirt was sticking to your skin, the acid making it cling. You hissed in pain as you struggled to pull it over your head, heart pounding.

Bellamy barely hesitated. “Here.” His hands were suddenly there, fingers brushing yours, helping tug the fabric over your arms. The second it was off, you sucked in a sharp breath, blinking through the sting.

But it wasn’t enough. The pain was still crawling across your body, and your pants—

“Off—get them off,” Bellamy ordered, already working at his own belt.

You weren’t thinking, just moving. Doing anything possible to get the burning sensation to go away. Your fingers fumbled at the button of your pants, struggling with the wet fabric, legs shaking as you pushed them down. Your boots were still on, but you barely registered the difficulty as you kicked them off, peeling away the last of the soaked material.

Bellamy was just as frantic, shoving his jeans down, breath coming in sharp, pained bursts. His skin was littered with burns, deep red patches where the acid had already started eating through.

The air inside the rover was thick and hot despite the chill outside. You were both half-undressed, bare skin stinging, breaths coming too fast.

Water. Your hands scrambled for your canteen, popping the cap off with shaking fingers before tilting it over your arms, letting the water wash over your burns. You barely registered the way Bellamy did the same, tipping his flask over his chest, water dripping down his skin, mixing with the remnants of acid.

For a long moment, there was nothing but heavy breathing and the storm howling outside.

Bellamy exhaled sharply, leaning back against the seat, chest still rising and falling rapidly. He ran a hand through his soaked curls, muttering something under his breath before finally glancing at you. His eyes trace the curve of your jaw, the way a stray lock of hair clings to your damp skin and he swallows hard, his gaze traveling lower to your chest. Shaking out of whatever trance he's in, he quickly looks away with his jaw set tight.

“Well,” he rasped, voice rough. “That was fun.”

You huffed a breathless laugh, weak but there. “Yeah. Let’s do it again sometime.”

Bellamy let out something between a chuckle and a groan, rubbing a hand down his face. He shifted slightly, and you caught the way his muscles tensed—probably still feeling the sting of the burns. You weren’t much better. Still feeling the uncomfortable tingles shooting through your body.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Just sat there, bodies humming with adrenaline, skin still damp from rain and water. The tension was thick but not just from what had happened, but from the way you had just stripped in front of each other, so frantic for relief that nothing else had mattered.

Your pulse pounded in your ears as your eyes flickered to Bellamy, still catching his breath across from you. His skin was still damp water clinging to him that traced the defined lines of his abs. For a second you just watched the way his chest rose and fell but noticed the burns that stood out on his tanned skin.

It wasn't until your gaze trailed back up that you realized he was watching you. Dark eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. Heat instantly crept up your neck, and you ripped your gaze away, praying he couldn't see the way your cheeks tinted pink.

You exhaled slowly, pressing your back against the cold metal of the rover, your damp skin still tingling from the burns. The air inside was thick and humid from the steam rising off your bodies, the leftover sting of the acid rain making every breath feel weighted.

Across from you, Bellamy shifted, leaning forward to grab the radio. His shoulders were tense, jaw set as he twisted the dial, static crackling through the speaker. His fingers tightened around the radio before he tried again. “Arkadia, do you read me?”

The only response was more static. Bellamy sighed through his nose, setting the radio down with a little too much force. “Perfect.”

“Nothing?” you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Bellamy shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his damp curls before leaning back against his seat. “Signal’s dead. Either the storm’s messing with it, or we’re too far out.”

You glanced out the window. The rain still came down in thick sheets, obscuring the trees beyond the windshield. You couldn’t see much, but you knew that you weren't getting out of there anytime soon.

“So, we’re stuck.”

Bellamy’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Yeah.”

You exhaled, tilting your head back against the seat. “Great. Love that for us.”

“You did say you wanted to get out of Arkadia.”

Your head snapped toward him, brow lifting. “Oh, really? That’s the angle you’re taking?”

Bellamy smirked, but it was faint, exhaustion weighing down his features. “Hey, I’m just saying—you got your wish.”

“Right. Because sitting in a half-broken rover, practically naked, covered in burns is exactly what I had in mind.”

“Could be worse.”

“Oh?” You shot him a look. “Enlighten me.”

Bellamy shrugged. “Could’ve been a grounder attack.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fantastic. I’ll be sure to count my blessings.”

Despite everything, Bellamy chuckled—a quiet, tired sound that sent a strange warmth through your chest.

Silence settled between you again, heavier this time. Neither of you mentioned the fact that you were still sitting there, half-undressed, bare skin marked with fresh burns. The only warmth in the rover was the heat radiating off your own bodies, but that didn’t help much when the damp air still clung to you.

You rubbed at your arms, trying to chase away the chill creeping over your skin. The acid rain had burned, but now that the immediate pain was dulling, the cold was seeping in fast.

But Bellamy noticed. “Come here.”

Your breath caught slightly at the sudden shift in his tone, still rough, still Bellamy, but softer.

You hesitated, but only for a second before you sighed, pushing off your seat and scooting closer. Bellamy met you halfway, slinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. His skin was still warm, muscles tense beneath the burns, but the heat was comforting.

You exhaled, letting yourself lean against him, your cheek resting against his shoulder. “This is the worst patrol ever.”

Bellamy huffed out a laugh. “Yeah. Definitely not my favorite.”

You turned your head slightly, just enough to look at him. A small smirk tugged at your lips before a quiet sigh escaped you. “How long do you think the rain will last?”

His fingers traced absent patterns against your arm, his voice lower when he answered. “No way to know. Could be hours.”

You groaned. “Fantastic.”

Bellamy didn’t respond right away. His hand stilled against your skin, his thumb brushing over one of the raw patches left by the rain. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, not from pain, but from something else entirely. Something you really didn’t want to name.

Your eyes flickered to his, only to find that Bellamy was already watching you, his expression unreadable in the dim light of the rover.

The space between you had already been small, but now it felt thicker, charged with something you had spent too long ignoring. His gaze dropped, just for a second to your lips, before flicking back up.

You swallowed.

Bellamy’s fingers twitched against your skin, like he wanted to move, to do something, to close the already small space between you. But as the storm raged on outside, the relentless drumming of the acid rain against the rover’s roof the only sound filling the silence between you. Everything still burned, the raw patches of skin tingling from where the acid had touched.

You exhaled, shifting slightly beside him. “You okay?”

Bellamy let out a breath, glancing down at you. “Yeah. You?”

You nodded. “Still breathing.”

A small smirk tugged at his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He leaned his head back against the rover, staring at the ceiling. “I can’t believe we’re here,” he muttered after a moment.

You turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Just… all of this. You and me. Trapped in a damn rover, half-naked, cuddling, soaked, waiting for acid rain to stop falling from the sky.” He glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. “It’s a hell of a long way from where we started.”

You softened, understanding settling over you. “Yeah,” you murmured. “It is.”

Bellamy huffed. “I mean, we hated each other when we landed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “I wouldn’t say hated.”

He gave you a pointed look. “Oh, come on. You couldn’t stand me.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Yeah, well. You were an arrogant ass.”

His mouth twitched, but he nodded. “Fair. But you weren’t exactly easy to deal with either.”

You raised a brow. “You mean when I was trying to keep everyone alive while you were busy playing King of the Delinquents?”

Bellamy groaned. “Okay, fine, I made some bad calls.”

You nudged him with your knee. “Some?”

He let out a breathy laugh. “Alright, a lot.” He shook his head, eyes flickering back to yours. “But then… I don’t know. Somewhere along the way, we figured it out. Became friends.”

“Best friends,” you corrected softly.

Bellamy’s gaze lingered on you, something warm settling in his expression. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Best friends.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of something else—something you both felt but never said. You swallowed, glancing down at your hands. “Crazy how things change, huh?”

Bellamy tilted his head, studying you. “Yeah.” His voice was quieter now, more careful. “Crazy.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. The rain outside continued to fall, trapping you here in this moment—one you weren’t sure you were ready to leave. A sudden shiver ran down your spine before you could stop it. The cold air inside the rover clung to your damp skin, making you tense. Before you could even think about shifting closer to Bellamy, he beat you to it. His arm tightened around you, pulling you flush against him. His warmth wrapped around you instantly, his bare skin pressed firmly against yours. You let out a small breath, tilting your head slightly against his shoulder as he murmured, “You’re freezing.”

You almost laughed at that. “Kinda hard not to be.”

Bellamy huffed, his chest rising against yours. “Come here,” he said, his voice softer now, rougher somehow, like the way he spoke when he was trying not to feel too much. You didn’t fight it, didn't even hesitate. You let yourself sink into him, your fingers lightly resting against his ribs as you exhaled.

But when you finally looked up at him, everything changed. His dark gaze was already on you, and for a second, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. Bellamy’s grip on you tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin like he was trying to ground himself. His expression shifted, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. His brows drew together just slightly, like he was trying to figure something out but then his gaze dropped.

To your lips. It was quick. Barely a second, but you saw it.

His breath hitched, his jaw tensing as his eyes flickered back up to yours. Then down again and then back. You couldn’t think. Hell you could barely even breathe. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Like he was memorizing every inch of your face, every part of this moment, because somehow, deep down, he knew he’d never be able to forget it.

Bellamy swallowed hard, his grip on you unmoving, his body still frozen, except for his fingers. They twitched against your side, like he wanted to move, to do something, to close the already small space between you. You felt it, the hesitation, the war waging in his mind. You should’ve pulled away. Should’ve cracked a joke, did something to break the tension, but you didn’t. You just watched him.

His breaths were shallow, slower now, his gaze fixed on yours in a way that made your stomach clench. The storm outside was deafening, rain pounding against the metal of the rover, but inside, everything felt still—like time had narrowed down to just this. Just him.

Your heart slammed against your ribs when Bellamy’s hand finally moved, sliding down from your arm to settle at your waist. His touch was barely there, like he wasn’t sure if you’d let him. You didn’t stop him. His fingertips pressed lightly into your skin, an unspoken question hanging in the space between you. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, could see the way his jaw tensed, like he was trying to talk himself out of whatever was about to happen.

And you? You were done pretending. Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you lifted a hand, fingers ghosting along his forearm before trailing up over his shoulder. Bellamy inhaled sharply, and for the first time in a long time, you saw something in his eyes that wasn’t guarded.

He wanted this. Wanted you.

“Bell—”

He moved before you could say anything else. His forehead brushed against yours, the tip of his nose barely grazing yours as his breath fanned across your lips. Your skin still ached from the acid burns, but none of it mattered. Not when his hand tightened slightly at your waist. Not when you felt the weight of his body leaning closer, like he couldn’t help himself.

“Tell me to stop,” Bellamy murmured, voice low, rough.

You exhaled shakily, your fingers curling around the back of his neck. “I don’t want you to.”

And that was all it took, Bellamy closed the distance, his lips pressing against yours in a way that stole every thought from your mind. There was no hesitation anymore, no second-guessing—just heat.

His hand at your waist pulled you closer, his fingers sliding over your bare skin, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Your free hand tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and the quiet sound he made against your lips sent a shiver down your spine.

The kiss deepened, slow and desperate all at once. Like neither of you could believe this was happening, but neither of you wanted it to stop. The storm raged on outside, but inside, all you could hear was the sound of your breaths mingling, the quiet, needy gasps escaping between kisses.

Bellamy pulled back just enough to look at you, his forehead still pressed to yours. His eyes were darker now, filled with something intense, something he wasn’t even trying to hide anymore.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted, his voice almost shaky.

Your heart pounded against your ribs, and for a split second, you could only stare at him, wide-eyed, breathless. But before you could even think of a response, his lips were back on yours—this time hungrier, more desperate.

A small gasp escaped you, but you didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. Bellamy’s hands slid up your sides, fingers splayed against your bare skin, warm and grounding. His grip tightened, like he was afraid you’d disappear, like he needed to make sure this was real.

You melted into him, your hands pressing against his chest before trailing up, curling around the back of his neck. He groaned softly against your lips, his body pressing closer, heat rolling off him despite the chill in the rover. And neither of you stopped, you couldn’t.

Bellamy’s hands tightened around your waist, fingers pressing into your skin like he couldn’t bear to let you go. You felt his heartbeat hammering against your palm where it rested on his chest, matching the wild rhythm of your own.

A soft whimper slipped from you as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and that was it. That was all it took. Before you knew it, you were shifting, moving without thinking, your knees pressing into cold metal as you climbed onto his lap. Bellamy barely had time to react before you were straddling him, your legs bracketing his hips, your chest pressed against his.

His breath hitched, but then his hands were gripping your waist, pulling you closer—like you weren’t already impossibly close. Like he still needed more.

“Shit,” he breathed against your lips, voice rough, almost wrecked. His hands slid up your sides, over the bare expanse of your back, leaving trails of heat in their wake. You shivered, but not from the cold.

Bellamy kissed you like he was starved for it, like this was something he’d been craving for so long that now that he had it, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stop.

You tangled your fingers in his damp curls, tugging him closer, and he groaned into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter. The air between you grew thick, charged with something you’d both been holding back for far too long. A groan of satisfaction rumbles through his chest as you let out a small moan, having felt him hard beneath you.

His large hands glide up and gently cup your face, keeping you close as you start to gently rock your hips down onto his, testing the waters. A loud groan escapes Bellamy's lips as the friction was something he'd been needing. The next time you rolled your hips down, he quickly met you, thrusting his own hips up.

"That's it, fuck." Bellamy panted, the air inside the rover quickly turning into hot and thick. "Been dreaming about you since we first landed."

His words only filled the heat pooling in your core but before you could muster up enough strength to say anything else, you let out a yelp as your back hit the cold metal of the rover.

Bellamy's mouth was back on yours and he kiss you like he'd been starved. You sigh into the kiss as his hands trail down your body, mapping every inch of skin his fingers touch. As Bellamy plants messy kisses from your mouth, trailing down to your jaw, he finally lands at the soft skin of your neck. You let out a small moan as he sucks on the area he found the most sensitive, having found it surprisingly fast.

"Bell-" You try to tell him what you need but stop short as his hand cups your heat.

"So fucking wet for me already?" Bellamy's rasped, his breath sending a shiver down your spine as his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

"Please, Bell-" you started to beg but let out a moan as Bellamy slipped his fingers past your soaked panties and slipped a finger inside you. The gasp that left your lips was quickly covered up by Bellamy's mouth attaching yours. And as if one finger wasn't enough he slipped the second in right after, both fingers worked in and out of your heat, causing sparks to shoot through your body. Your brows scrunched as you could feel the coil in your stomach heating up, waiting and begging to be released.

"God, you're so much tighter than I imagined." Bellamy breathed, "So perfect."

Your head lolled to the side as Bellamy attacked your neck, leaving kisses and sucking at the sensitive areas.

"Come for me, baby." His gruff voice caused you to shiver, quickly rocking your hips down onto his hands for more friction. "Such a mess for me already. Can't wait to have you come around my cock."

His words sent you over the edge. A loud moan rips through the rover as he continues to help you ride out your high. You barely even caught your breath before the tip of his length was teasing you, causing a whimper to escape from your lips.

"Bell quit teasing, I need you inside me." You whined, causing a smirk to appear on Bellamy's lips.

"God, I love it when you beg." Bellamy admitted but didn't geive you enough time to make a sarcastic comment before he slowly thrust himself inside of you. You instantly let out a loan moan when he bottomed out. The feeling of him inside you was euphoric and his large hands gripped the sides of your thighs. You met him each time he thrusted into you, wanting nothing more than the delicious feeling to never end.

"I've wanted you for so long." Bellamy admitted, "ever since your sexy, sarcastic, and bossy self threatened my plans."

"Me too." You admitted, having remembered the first day on the ground when you and Bellamy stood toe to toe, exchanging insults and threats. The two of you absolutely despised each other.

Bellamy was trying to save him own ass at the time and you were trying to help Clarke keep the rest of the 100 alive. It didn't help that you were also Marcus Kane's daughter. "One of the privileged." As Bellamy put it. But quickly the two of you found common ground, setting aside your differences. Clarke was furious with you at first for trusting Bellamy but she too eventually realized that he wasn't a bad guy.

Bellamy let out some low growl, his pace picking up. "Such a good girl. Taking me so well. This pussy was made for me."

The words only spurred you on, grinding down on him as you started to moan his name over and over again in his ear. "I'm so close, Bell" You admitted, that familiar coil tightening in the base of your stomach.

"Come with me." Bellamy's hips met yours in a more sloppy, erratic pattern and you knew he was close too.

You moaned his name over and over again like a prayer as the coil finally snapped. Your walls clenched around Bellamy's dick as you came, causing his own orgasm to follow.

As the two of you finally came down from your highs, your breathing erratic as you tried to catch your breaths, Bellamy's forehead rested ontop of yours. As he finally caught his breath, he looked down at you. A soft smile spread across his lips and his eye lids stayed hooded. He felt drunk.

"I love you." Bellamy admitted, causing your breath to hitch.

Your eyes trailed over his face, watching as he kept his soft gaze on your swollen lips. Your eyes danced around his face memorizing each freckle littering his skin. "I love you too, Bell."

author’s note:

Yes, I am very aware of the fact that bell and the reader fucked instead of helping poor Talia out. For their sake let’s just say they ended up getting out and rescuing her, LMFAO.

Anyways, this was my very first Bellamy fic! Ahh! I’m so excited to post this! Bell was my very first tv/celeb crush and it’s kind of sentimental for me. He’s the reason I got into reading fanfics and now I’m writing them. CRAZY.

If you guys would like more Bellamy fics let me know! I’m excited to write for him!

Also, if you would like to be tagged please go to this link and fill out the form :)

my works

457 notes · View notes

maddie0101 · 1 month ago

Text

the space between us

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

summary: you’ve been spiraling for a while and bellamy’s done watching from the sidelines. but when a spacewalk goes wrong, buried truths come crashing to the surface, and neither of you can ignore it anymore.

warnings: kane!reader, set in between s4 & s5, takes place on the ring, feelings of emptiness, depression!, grief, jealousy, worried!bellamy, reader is self destructive, mentions of suicidal thoughts/tendancies, sad fic with happy ending, arguing, angry love confessions!, idiots in love, cussing, starts out pretty gloomy but emotions are all over the place for these two, I promise the end it worth it.

word count: 7.6k (someone plz stop me)

notes: please do not read if this will affect your mental health. reader and bell go from enemies -> best friends -> enemies ish -> lovers. I don’t want to give too much of it away before you guys read, but the reader is dealing with grief. if you ever need anyone to talk to please don’t hesitate to send me a message :)

Space is cold.

It burrows into your bones like ice, coils tight in your gut like a viper ready to strike, and anchors itself in your chest.

It’s not just sadness, it’s grief, thick and suffocating, pressing against your ribs, stealing the breath from your lungs. You wonder if this is what drowning feels like--Not in water, but in silence.

A vast, endless silence that stretches beyond the ring, beyond the stars, beyond anything you can escape. The weight of it crushes you, fills your veins like lead, until even the air around you feels too thin, too fragile, too empty to keep you afloat.

You don’t know how to live with this kind of emptiness. Every breath feels too heavy, like your lungs are filling with lead instead of air. Every step echoes too loudly in the hollow corridors, like the station itself is reminding you just how alone you really are.

You have friends here, sure. Bellamy, Raven, Monty, Harper, Murphy, Echo. But it doesn’t matter. Not really...because one of the people you loved most in this world is gone.

Clarke is gone.

And it hits you like a knife to the gut every single time.

There are moments, cruel small moments where you forget. Where your mind tricks you into believing she’s still here. That if you turn your head fast enough, you’ll see Clarke standing next to you, rolling her eyes at something you said, or giving you that soft, knowing look that meant she understood you better than anyone ever could.

Clarke Griffin had been a part of you for as long as you could remember.

You grew up together on the Ark, side by side through every scraped knee and whispered secret.

When you were kids, you used to sneak through the maintenance tunnels, daring each other to go further, to take more risks, to push the limits of the world you were trapped in. You swore that one day, you’d escape together, that somehow, you’d find a way to live beyond cold metal walls and recycled air.

But you never imagined that escape would come in the form of a drop ship crashing down to Earth, that survival would mean war and blood and impossible choices. But even then, through all the chaos, you had Clarke. She was your constant, your best friend, your family when the world refused to be kind.

And now she was gone.

You still catch yourself turning to look for her, expecting to find her standing beside you, arms crossed, expression unreadable as she weighed every decision like the world depended on it, because, most of the time, it did.

But there’s nothing there anymore, just empty space.

You remember the way she trusted you, even when no one else did. The way she argued with you, pushed you to be better, made you believe in things you never thought possible.

And now she’s just gone.

The grief is unbearable. It’s a sharp, endless ache that settles deep in your chest, suffocating and inescapable. It keeps you awake at night, staring at the ceiling of the Ark, wondering if she suffered, if she was afraid, if she thought of you in those final moments.

You hate that you left her behind. You hate that you listened when she told you to go, to save yourself. You hate that you couldn’t find a way to save her.

Because now, for the first time in your life, you have to face this world alone.

And you don’t know how.

You had Clarke, you had your dad, and you had Bellamy, but now you have nobody.

Your father had always been a pillar of strength in your life. Marcus Kane, the man who had raised you with steady hands and a quiet kind of love. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was there. Even when he was forced to be more of a leader than a father, even when his duty to the Ark overshadowed his duty to you, you always knew he cared. You saw it in the way he softened when he spoke to you, in the way his voice lost its usual edge when he said your name.

And now you have no idea if he’s even still alive.

The thought destroys you. He’s down there, somewhere, trapped in a bunker deep beneath the earth, buried under rock and rubble.

You don’t know if he’s okay.

You don’t know if he has food, if he has air, if he’s even still breathing. The last time you saw him, he was fighting, surviving, but that was six months ago.

And six months is a long time.

You tell yourself he’s fine. He’s your dad, after all. He’s always been stubborn, always found a way to make it through. But doubt creeps in, curling around your ribs.

What if something went wrong? What if the bunker collapsed? What if you never see him again?

You can’t even send a message. Can’t hear his voice. Can’t tell him that you’re okay, that you made it, that you’re still up here breathing while he’s buried underground.

And it fucking kills you.

The doubt eats at you and the not knowing is unbearable.

And now, Bellamy is all you have left. At least, you thought you had him.

The two of you didn’t start off as friends. Far from it. Bellamy was reckless, arrogant, and dead set on ruling the camp with his bullshit “Whatever the hell we want” mantra. You saw it as chaos, and you had enough of that in your life already. Clarke had been the only one thinking straight, and you backed her up every single time, standing beside her, arguing against Bellamy, calling him out on his idiotic choices.

And God, did that piss him off.

The two of you would go toe to toe, screaming in each other’s faces until your throats were raw. He was infuriating. Stubborn. Impossible. And yet, somewhere in the middle of all those heated fights, things shifted. One day, you just… stopped. Not because either of you won, but because the war between you was exhausting. You had bigger enemies than each other.

So, you called a truce. Agreed to be civil.

Somewhere along the way, civility turned into friendship. Then you became best friends.

Bellamy became the person you didn’t even realize you needed.

You’d stay up late, lying in the grass, staring at the stars, talking about everything and nothing. You’d argue, but this time, it wasn’t about power or control, it was about books, about history, about whether a hot meal was worth trading for extra rations. He had your back in every fight, through every nightmare, through every horror you endured on the ground and you had his.

It wasn’t even a question. Bellamy Blake was your person.

But the problem was, you were in love with him.

You don’t know when it started, not exactly. Maybe it was the way he shielded you with his own body when things went to hell. Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he said your name, like you were something worth protecting. Maybe it was how he challenged you, how he saw you, how he could piss you off one second and make you laugh the next.

Or maybe you were just doomed from the start.

Bellamy was beautiful, always had been. That much, you could admit, but it infuriated you at first, watching him flirt, watching different women disappear into his tent for the night.

You told yourself you didn’t care, that it didn’t matter, but you hated it. Hated the way jealousy coiled hot and ugly inside you. Hated how you’d lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what it would be like to have him that way. To be the one he wanted.

But he never saw you like that. Not really.

Sure, he flirted sometimes, but Bellamy flirted with everyone. It was just who he was. And you weren’t about to fool yourself into thinking you were special.

And now, watching him grow closer to Echo, you know for sure you’ve lost him.

It’s different with her. It’s not just flirting. It’s not just meaningless glances or teasing smirks. It’s real. You see it in the way they talk, the way he looks at her, the way he lets her in and it breaks you. It shatters something deep in your chest, something you barely had a hold on to begin with.

Bellamy doesn’t talk to you the way he used to. Not anymore. Not like before, when the two of you would sit shoulder to shoulder, whispering in the dark, the silence of space stretching around you like your own little world. Not like before, when he’d seek you out first, when you’d catch him staring at you across the room, when he’d smirk at you like you were the only one who understood the joke.

Now, he’s with her.

Now, when you walk into a room, he’s already there—already talking to her and when he finally looks at you, it’s not the same.

He still cares, you know that. But there’s a distance now, something thick and unspoken between you and maybe it’s your fault. Maybe you pulled away first, maybe you built the wall between you before he even had the chance. But it doesn’t matter, because now it’s there, and it’s suffocating you.

You tell yourself it’s fine. That you don’t care. That you knew this would happen, that you always knew he’d move on, that he’d find someone else, that he’d never, never look at you the way you’ve spent years looking at him.

But it hurts. It hurts like nothing else ever has.

And maybe that’s the worst part—because you thought losing Clarke was the thing that would break you. You thought losing your father would be the thing to finally push you over the edge. But this...watching the one person you still have left slip through your fingers without even noticing—this is the thing that kills you.

First Clarke. Then your father. And now, him.

You have nothing left. Nothing but the void of space, the weight of grief, and a slow, suffocating sense that maybe, just maybe, you don’t even care if you make it through this anymore.

So you stop caring.

It’s not dramatic, not some grand, self-destructive decision. It’s quieter than that. A slow unraveling, thread by thread, until one day you wake up and realize you don’t give a shit what happens to you.

It starts small. Skipping meals because food supplies are limited and someone else needs it more. Telling yourself it’s noble, that it’s selfless, that it doesn’t matter if you eat or not. But the truth is, you just don’t care. You don’t feel hunger the way you used to, it’s dulled, just like everything else. The ache in your stomach is just another sensation you’ve learned to ignore, another part of you that feels hollow.

Staying up through the night, taking extra shifts because sleep is pointless. When you close your eyes, all you see is Clarke’s face, hear her voice like an echo trapped inside your skull. It’s easier to stay awake, to keep moving, to let exhaustion press down on you like a weight. The burn in your muscles, the heaviness in your limbs—it’s almost comforting.

Proof that you’re still here, still breathing. Still fighting, even if you don’t know why.

Volunteering for maintenance in the oxygen garden, even when the air is thick and stifling, clogging your lungs and making your head spin. You push through it, let the dizziness wash over you without stopping. The others take breaks, stepping outside to gulp in fresher air, but you stay. You work until your hands are raw, until sweat drips down your back and your vision blurs at the edges.

Until someone forces you to stop. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” he Bellamy mutters when you pass him in the hallway, his eyes flicking over your tired frame.

You shrug. “Nothing else to do.”

His frown deepens, but you don’t give him the chance to say more, you just keep walking.

The next time, it’s when you skip another meal, pushing your tray away without touching it. Bellamy’s sitting across from you, arms crossed over his chest, watching. “You gonna eat, or just sit there and pretend you don’t need food like the rest of us?”

“Not hungry,” you say, just like before. Just like always.

“That’s bullshit.”

You glance up, meet his stare, feel the weight of it pressing down on you. You know he’s waiting for you to crack, to get mad, to argue back--but you don’t. You just stand up and walk away, leaving the untouched food behind.

But It keeps happening.

“Get some sleep, you look like hell.”

“You’re working yourself to death.”

“Do you even hear yourself anymore?”

Each time, you brush him off. A shrug, a muttered response, a look that dares him to push harder. But he doesn’t—not yet. Not fully. He just watches. Studies you. And you can feel it, the weight of his concern, the way it coils between you like a rope pulled too tight, ready to snap. It lingers in every glance, every clipped conversation, every moment you pretend not to notice the way his eyes follow you across the room.

But you don’t stop.

You take the worst shifts, the ones no one wants, the ones that leave your hands shaking and your body aching. You push yourself harder, longer, testing your limits just to see if you still have any. The exhaustion, the hunger, the strain—it doesn’t matter.

None of it does.

The exhaustion barely registers anymore. You wear it like a second skin, let it settle into your bones, into the spaces grief hollowed out. Sleep is a distant memory, hunger nothing more than an afterthought. Your hands shake sometimes, but it doesn’t matter.

None of it fucking matters.

“We’ve got a problem.” Raven's words pull you back into the present, though barely. You stand near the console, arms crossed, waiting. It’s always something. Something breaking, something failing, something threatening to kill you all.

“What kind of problem?” Bellamy asks, stepping in beside Raven.

“External panel’s shot,” she says, frustration clear in her voice. “Coupling’s failing. If we don’t fix it, we’re looking at a full systems failure.”

It clicks instantly, an EVA. Someone has to go outside. “I’ll do it,” you say, stepping forward before anyone else can speak.

Bellamy reacts immediately, like he was waiting for you to pull this exact kind of shit. “No,” he snaps, eyes flashing. “Not happening.”

You don’t even look at him. “Raven can’t do it,” you say, voice cold, detached. “Her leg—”

“I can still—” Raven starts, but you cut her off.

“You can’t,” you say sharply, turning to her. “You know you can’t.”

Raven hesitates. She hates it, hates admitting that she has limits now, but she doesn’t argue. She knows you’re right.

“I was training to be a zero-g mechanic before I got arrested,” you continue, gaze flicking back to Bellamy. “That means I’m next in line.”

“I don’t give a shit,” he says, stepping closer, voice low and furious. “We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way.”

“You’re not going out there.”

You stare at him, jaw tightening. “Yes, I am.”

His hands flex at his sides, like he’s physically restraining himself from grabbing you, shaking some sense into you. His voice drops even lower, barely more than a growl. “You’re not doing this.”

But then Raven sighs, running a hand through her hair. “She’s right.”

Bellamy’s head snaps toward her. “Raven—”

“As much as I hate it,” Raven says, glaring at you like she wants to punch you for putting her in this position, “she’s the best option we’ve got.”

That should be the end of it, decision made. But Bellamy is still looking at you like you just threw yourself out the airlock. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, quieter now, but no less intense.

You hold his gaze. “Yeah. I do.” You mutter before you turn on your heel and walk away. No more arguing. No more justifying. You don’t look back, don’t slow down, don’t give Bellamy or Raven a chance to say anything else.

Bellamy stands there, frozen, watching you disappear down the corridor. His chest feels too tight, like all the oxygen’s been sucked from the ring.

“She’s not okay,” Raven mutters, breaking the silence.

Bellamy’s jaw clenches. “Yeah, no shit.” His voice is sharp, but it’s not aimed at her. He’s pissed at himself, pissed at you, pissed at the situation they’re stuck in.

“She’s been different,” Raven continues, arms crossed as she shakes her head. “Ever since we lost Clarke, ever since—” She stops herself, but they both know what she means. Ever since you started pulling away, throwing yourself into danger like it’s the only thing keeping you standing.

Bellamy exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “I’ve tried, Raven. I’ve tried talking to her, tried getting through to her, but she just—” He swallows hard, glancing down the hall like he could still catch a glimpse of you. “She shuts me out. Every damn time.”

Raven sighs. “You think I don’t know that? She’s been shutting everyone out. But Bellamy—she doesn’t care what happens to her.”

His stomach twists at the words. He knows it. He’s known it for a while, but hearing Raven say it out loud makes it feel too real.

“She’s not just being reckless,” Raven continues. “She’s self-destructing.”

Bellamy turns to her, eyes dark with frustration and something that looks dangerously close to fear. “And we’re just supposed to let her?”

Raven gives him a look. “You think I want this? You think I don’t hate it just as much as you do? But tell me—who else can do this job? I can’t.” She gestures to her leg, frustration flickering across her face. “And neither can anyone else up here. She’s the only one trained for it, Bellamy.”

He presses his lips into a thin line, his fists clenching at his sides. “That doesn’t mean we send her out there knowing she doesn’t give a shit if she comes back.”

Raven’s voice softens. “What other choice do we have?”

Bellamy doesn’t answer.

Because there isn’t one and that terrifies him.

The airlock chamber is cold and sterile. The hum of the machinery around you is the only sound, a dull buzz that fills the silence as you methodically strap yourself into the spacesuit. The motions are automatic, tightening the seals, adjusting the fit—your hands working without your mind fully registering what you’re doing. It doesn’t really matter. Nothing really does.

You barely hear the door open behind you, but you know it’s him before he even says a word.

Bellamy steps into the room, and for a second, he just watches you. You can feel his eyes on you, heavy with something you don’t want to name. Concern. Worry. Fear?

You keep your focus on the straps, but then his hands are suddenly there too, brushing against yours as he starts helping.

You don’t stop him. His fingers tighten the fastenings at your shoulders, a little rougher than necessary, like he’s trying to ground you. Like he’s trying to keep you here.

“You don’t have to do this,” he says, voice low but firm.

You do but you don’t say that. Instead, you just let him help, let him double-check every strap, every seal, even though you’ve already done it yourself.

You don’t argue, don’t pull away, because you know this is the only way he can feel like he has some control. He moves in front of you, adjusting the collar of the suit, his jaw tight, eyes dark. “Be careful.”

That’s when you finally look at him—really look at him. And whatever he sees in your face, it fucking destroys him.

His breath catches, just for a second, but you notice. His grip on your suit tightens, like he wants to shake you, wants to snap you out of whatever this is.

But he doesn’t, because he knows it won’t work, because all he sees in your eyes is emptiness.

Not determination, not even fear, just… nothing. And It scares the shit out of him.

You don’t say anything at first. You probably should, you know you should, but there’s nothing to say. So you settle on the only thing that feels appropriate. “Thanks,” you murmur, voice hollow.

His throat bobs as he swallows, like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he just whispers, “Be careful,” like it’s the only thing keeping him from losing his goddamn mind. You meet his gaze for another second, but then you turn away, reaching for your helmet.

Bellamy should say something. He should stop you, pull you back, make you feel something, anything—other than this emptiness that’s swallowed you whole. But the words won’t come. They lodge in his throat, tangled up with the panic that’s clawing its way through his chest.

Because he knows that look in your eyes.

He’s seen it before—too many times. On the ground, in the war-torn faces of people who had lost everything. In Clarke’s eyes before she pulled that lever in Mount Weather. In his own reflection after too many bodies had piled up under his command. That look, the quiet, hollow resignation, is what people wear when they’ve already decided they have nothing left to lose.

And now it’s on you.

He watches, helpless, as you slide the helmet over your head, locking it into place with smooth, practiced movements. You don’t hesitate. Don’t fumble. You just…do it. Like it doesn’t matter, like you don’t matter.

And the airlock doors hiss, the warning lights flashing as the chamber begins to seal. Bellamy takes a step forward but then stops, fists clenching at his sides. He can’t stop this. Raven already made the call. And you—fuck, you’re too stubborn to listen to him even if he tried.

Still, his heart is pounding. His pulse roaring in his ears. Because as the final barrier closes between you, cutting off the sound of your breath, the shift of your movements, it hits him like a gut punch.

You’re out of his reach now and Bellamy can’t fucking breathe. It slams into him all at once, the fear, the helplessness, the realization that he might actually lose you.

Not in the way he’s been losing you these past few weeks, watching you slip further and further away, your laughter fading, your fire dimming. That was bad enough. But this? This is something worse.

This is real. This is now.

His hands twitch at his sides, useless. He should be in there with you, should be the one stepping into the vacuum of space instead. But he isn’t. He’s here, standing behind a reinforced door, watching as you drift further and further from him—physically, emotionally, completely.

And the fear claws at his throat, tightening with every second that passes. It’s the same fear that’s been gnawing at the edges of his mind for weeks, ever since he started noticing the way you were slipping. The way you stopped laughing. The way you stopped arguing with him—not because you agreed, but because you didn’t care. The way your eyes, once so full of fire and fight, had dulled into something hollow and distant.

He should’ve done more. Should’ve pushed harder. Should’ve made you talk to him instead of letting you shut him out. Because now? Now he’s fucking terrified.

Not just that something could go wrong out there, though that thought alone makes his stomach churn—but that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t fight it if it did.

Maybe you wouldn’t even try to come back.

The thought sends ice through his veins, and his breath comes sharp and uneven as he watches you through the glass, watches you moving with the same quiet detachment you’ve had for weeks, like nothing fucking matters.

Like you don’t matter. “Goddamn it,” he mutters under his breath, barely aware that he’s spoken.

Raven shifts beside him, arms crossed, eyes locked on the glass. “She’s gonna be fine, Bellamy,” she says, but her voice lacks its usual sharp confidence.

"I hope so." Bellamy mutters, praying for you to make it back safely.

The vast emptiness of space stretches around you, endless and dark, broken only by the cold metal of the ring and the distant glow of Earth below. You move slowly, using the safety tether to guide yourself along the outer structure of the Ring. The damaged panel is a few meters ahead, wires sparking faintly in the low gravity.

“Alright,” Raven’s voice crackles through the comms. “You need to secure yourself to the framework before you start. That panel’s loose, and the last thing we need is you floating off into the abyss.”

Bellamy tenses at the thought, but you just give a clipped, “Got it.”

Your movements are precise, practiced. You lock your tether to the nearest anchor point, then reach for your tools. The exposed wires are a tangled mess, some of them burned out, others frayed from whatever hit the station.

“Looks like a power relay took most of the damage,” you report. “I’ll need to reroute the flow before replacing the panel.”

“Copy that,” Raven says. “Take your time.”

Bellamy huffs out a breath. “Not too much time.”

You don’t respond, just keep working, fingers steady as you disconnect the ruined wires and begin patching in new ones. The silence stretches, except for the occasional instruction from Raven.

Bellamy watches, his gut twisting with every careful movement you make. You’re good at this—he knows that. You trained for it but that doesn’t stop the fear from gnawing at his insides.

Then, your hand slips. It’s small, barely even a mistake, but Bellamy sees it—the half-second where your grip falters, where your fingers hesitate before tightening again.

His heart slams into his ribs. “You good?” he asks, voice sharp.

“Yeah,” you say flatly. “Just adjusting.”

He doesn’t buy it. “Be careful,” he says, and it’s not a warning—it’s a plea.

For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. Then, finally, you answer. “Yeah,” you say, voice quiet, detached. “I know.”

The first sign that something is wrong isn’t the alarm, it’s the way your body suddenly jerks backward. One second, you’re gripping the panel, fingers steady as you adjust a wire. The next, you’re yanked off balance, spinning weightlessly as your tether strains against the sudden force.

Then the alarm blares.

WARNING: OXYGEN LEAK DETECTED.

“Shit—shit!” Raven’s voice cuts through the comms. “Y/N, your suit—”

You barely register her words before your back collides with the ring. Hard. The impact knocks the air from your lungs, not that there’s much to lose in this vacuum. Pain explodes along your ribs, sharp and searing, but you barely react. You don’t have time. You reach for the emergency sealant on your suit, fingers fumbling as precious oxygen hisses out into the abyss.

And Bellamy’s voice slams into you next. “Y/N!” It’s not just fear you hear, it’s terror—raw and unfiltered.

You quickly find the breach. A tear along your left side, jagged and leaking life into the void. Your hands are shaking, but you manage to slap the sealant patch over the hole, pressing down until the hissing stops. Your oxygen stabilizes but barely.

“Leak’s patched,” you say, panting. “I’m good.”

“The hell you are!” Bellamy is livid. “Get back inside. Now.”

You don’t respond, completely choosing to ignore his demand. Instead, you reach for the wires again, forcing yourself to focus. You’re almost done. If you can just—

“Y/N, stop!” Raven snaps. “You just got thrown against the ring, you’re leaking oxygen, and—holy shit, are you hurt?”

You blink, trying to push past the dizziness clouding your vision. “I can still finish this.”

Bellamy curses under his breath. “Y/N, listen to me. Your suit is compromised. You could die out there.”

But that’s the thing, you don’t care, not really—so you keep working.

“Goddamn it,” Bellamy seethes. “Get back inside. Now.”

You don’t. You keep working, hands moving through the pain, through the weight pressing against your ribs. You can feel where the impact bruised you, where every breath pulls tight and sharp, but you push past it. You have to finish this.

“Y/N.” Bellamy’s voice is razor-edged, frantic. “I swear to God, if you don’t turn around and get your ass back inside—”

You ignore him.

“Y/N!”

His voice crackles through the speaker, raw and unrelenting, but you block it out.

“You’re being reckless—damn it, just listen to me!”

Still, you don’t stop.

“Raven, tell her—”

“She muted us,” Raven cuts in, voice hollow.

Bellamy stills. “What?”

“She—” Raven exhales sharply, glancing at the monitor. “She fucking muted us.”

Bellamy’s stomach drops. His hands curl into fists at his sides, useless, helpless. His breath is heavy, ragged, heart slamming against his ribs as he watches you continue—silent, cut off from him completely.

His jaw clenches. “Fuck.” He moves toward the airlock, every instinct screaming at him to do something, anything—but Raven grabs his arm, yanking him back. “You can’t go out there,” she says, voice tight. “She’s almost done.”

“She’s fucking hurt, Raven!”

“And she’s still the best shot we’ve got at fixing this,” Raven snaps. “She wouldn’t be out there otherwise.”

Bellamy shakes his head, hands gripping his hair. “She shouldn’t be out there at all.”

Raven doesn’t argue because she knows he’s right.

On the screen, you move quickly but your fingers are steady despite everything.

No hesitation, no fear, no regard for your own damn life.

Bellamy watches in agonizing silence, tension coiled so tightly in his chest he can barely breathe. His nails dig into his palms as each second drags by, as you move with a focus that terrifies him.

Then, finally—You push off the panel, securing the last wire in place. The system stabilizes and the warning lights shift, flickering back to green.

It’s done. You did it.

Bellamy exhales shakily. Relief floods through his chest first, sharp and fleeting. Then the anger, then the frustration and then the gut-wrenching fear that’s been clawing at him since the moment you stepped into that suit. And the second you unmute the comms, his voice slams into you like a freight train.

“Get. Back. Inside.”

It’s not a request. It’s not even an order. It’s a demand laced with fury, desperation, and something you can’t quite name.

And it immediately sends a shiver rolling down your spine.

The airlock decompresses with a deep hiss, the artificial gravity settling over you like a weight and your body protests immediately. Every muscle aches, along with the impact from earlier sending a sharp, radiating pain through your ribs. You wince, rolling your shoulders, but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

The doors slide open with a hiss and Bellamy is standing there, waiting—pissed.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his jaw tight, and his eyes are dark with barely restrained fury. The second he sees you, his glare sharpens, cutting through the space between you like a blade.

You ignore it. Stepping past him, you reach for the clasps of your suit, peeling the thick layers away from your body. The adrenaline is wearing off now, leaving exhaustion and pain in its wake. But you keep moving, methodical and unbothered, until—

“What the fuck was that?” Bellamy’s voice is sharp and unrelenting.

You sigh, not bothering to look at him as you undo the chest plate. “Fixing the power relay.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “Don’t act like that was just another job. You nearly got yourself killed out there.”

“I didn’t.” You keep your tone flat, unphased, shoving the gloves off your hands.

“You muted me,” he growls. “You ignored every goddamn thing I was saying, and then—”

“Because I needed to focus.” You exhale sharply, finally looking at him. “And I fixed it, didn’t I?”

Bellamy stares at you like he doesn’t recognize you. His hands flex at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point, Bellamy?” you snap, yanking at the last layer of the suit, wincing slightly when it tugs at your ribs. “That I didn’t listen to you? That I didn’t crawl back the second you told me to?”

“The point,” he grits out, stepping closer, “is that you don’t care if you make it back at all.”

Something in your chest tightens but you ignore it.

Bellamy shakes his head, breath unsteady, hands trembling with the force of his anger, but beneath it, beneath all of it—is fear. Real, consuming, gut-wrenching fear.

“You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is lower now, rougher. “You think I don’t see what you’re doing?” He gestures at you, his expression twisting. “Skipping meals, taking shifts no one else will, volunteering for every dangerous job that comes up—you think I don’t know what that means?”

Your throat feels tight, but you refuse to look away.

Bellamy swallows hard. “You want to burn yourself out, don’t you?”

There's nothing but silence. You hold his gaze, heart slamming against your bruised ribs. He searches your face, waiting—begging for a denial, but you don’t give him one. And that’s what breaks him the most.

You don’t speak—you don’t even look at him as a tear slips down your cheek, but you don’t wipe it away. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you break, of proving his words right. Instead, you finish peeling off the last of your spacesuit, ignoring the sting in your muscles, the ache in your ribs where you slammed into the ring.

The suit is heavier than it should be as you hang it back up. It feels like closing a door, like leaving something behind, and for a brief second, you wish you could step out of your own skin and leave yourself behind too.

Bellamy doesn’t move. He stands there, stiff, furious, seething in the kind of silence that feels like a countdown to something explosive. Still, you say nothing and turn, walking away.

But as your luck has it, he follows. “Hey.” His voice is sharp, like a blade drawn too fast. “Don’t walk away from me.”

You keep walking, ignoring his footsteps behind you.

“Y/N.”

Your fingers curl around your bedroom door, heart hammering, but before you can slam it shut, Bellamy’s hand shoves against it, stopping you with ease. You whip around, furious. “Get out.”

He doesn’t move. Instead, he steps inside and then with a slow, deliberate motion, he turns and locks the door behind him.

Your pulse jumps. “What the hell are you doing?”

Bellamy’s chest rises and falls, his breath harsh, his whole body thrumming with barely contained frustration. “No, what the hell are you doing?” His voice is low, rough, shaking with something deeper than anger. “Because whatever this is, whatever the fuck you’ve been doing—it’s not survival, Y/N. It’s suicide.”

His words hit harder than they should. You swallow against the lump in your throat, but it doesn’t go away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Bellamy lets out a hollow laugh, but there’s no humor in it, just disbelief, just pain. “The hell I don’t,” he snaps. “You throw yourself into danger every chance you get. You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. You push yourself until you can barely stand, and you act like it doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Your hands clench into fists at your sides. “Why do you care?”

The question stuns him into silence for a second and then—“Are you serious?” Bellamy takes a step closer, voice rising, eyes dark with anger. “Are you actually asking me that?”

Your pulse pounds in your ears, breath coming fast. “Yeah, Bellamy. I am.”

His hands clench at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to grab you, to shake some goddamn sense into you. “How the hell can you even say that?” His voice cracks on the words, but it only fuels his frustration. “After everything we’ve been through, after everything I’ve done for you—you think I don’t care?”

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Really? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it.”

Bellamy’s nostrils flare. “That’s bullshit.”

“Is it?” You take a step forward, closing the space between you, shoving your finger against his chest. “Because you sure don’t act like you care. You’re always with Echo, always making sure she’s okay, always talking to her—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bellamy growls, running a hand through his hair, pacing for a second before spinning back to you. “This isn’t about Echo!”

“Like hell it isn’t!” Your voice rises, shaking with anger, with exhaustion, with months of built-up resentment. “Ever since we got up here, it’s like I don’t even exist to you anymore! Like I could disappear tomorrow and you wouldn’t even notice!”

Bellamy’s face twists, his anger turning sharp. “Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice is dangerously low now, like a storm rolling in. “You’re the one who shut me out, Y/N. You stopped talking to me. You’re the one who left me first.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your hands tremble at your sides, your chest rising and falling too fast, too erratic. “That’s not—”

“Yes, it is!” Bellamy shouts, voice raw now, ragged with emotion. “You pulled away from me, you buried yourself in every reckless job you could find, like you were just waiting for something to fucking kill you! And what was I supposed to do, huh? Stand there and watch?”

Your whole body is shaking now, rage and hurt battling for control. “You don’t get to act like this is my fault!”

“I don’t?” He lets out a hollow, furious laugh. “Are you hearing yourself right now?”

Your eyes burn. “I needed you, Bellamy,” you whisper, voice trembling, but there’s still fire behind it. “And you weren’t there.”

He stares at you like you just knocked the air from his lungs. “I wasn’t—” He shakes his head, disbelief flashing in his eyes. “That’s not fucking fair.”

You bark out another humorless laugh. “Fair? Fair? You want to talk about fair?” Your voice is almost hysterical now, the emotions clawing at your throat, ripping their way out. “I lost my dad. I lost Clarke. And now—” Your voice cracks, your breath catching, and you shake your head, like you can stop the truth from falling from your lips. But it’s too late. You swallow hard. “And now I’ve lost you too.”

Bellamy flinches, like the words physically hurt him. His jaw tightens, his chest rising and falling too fast. “You haven’t lost me,” he grits out, barely more than a whisper. “I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not,” you snap, voice breaking, hands trembling. “You haven’t been here in a long time.”

Bellamy shakes his head, his frustration boiling over again. “That’s not true.”

“Then why do I feel like it is?” Your voice cracks, the rawness slipping through, the vulnerability you’ve been trying so fucking hard to hold back.

Bellamy exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I—”

“Just forget it,” you mutter, turning away, chest heaving, because this is getting too close, too painful, and you can’t do this anymore.

But Bellamy won’t let it go. He moves closer, voice lowering but no less intense. “No. I’m not just gonna forget it. You think I don’t care? You think I don’t give a shit whether you live or die?” He lets out a harsh, bitter laugh. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

You snap your head back toward him, eyes blazing. “Well, what the hell am I supposed to think, Bellamy? You’ve barely even looked at me for months. Every time I turn around, you’re with her.”

Bellamy’s expression twists, his face turning red with frustration. “Because Echo was suicidal, Y/N! She was barely holding on, and I—I was just trying to keep her from jumping off the goddamn edge!”

You flinch at the words, at the way his voice cracks with them. For a second, just a second, the anger wavers but then it snaps back into place, because it still doesn’t change anything. You shake your head, eyes burning. “And what about me?”

Bellamy stills.

You swallow hard, voice breaking now. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was barely holding on too?”

The room goes silent. Bellamy’s breath stutters, his face paling.

You suck in a shaky breath, tears threatening to spill, but you push through it, force yourself to keep going. “You were so busy saving her, you didn’t even notice I was drowning too.”

His lips part, his throat working like he wants to say something—anything but nothing comes out.

Your hands curl into fists, your whole body trembling with too many emotions at once. And then, before you can stop yourself, before you can shove it back down where it’s been buried for so long—A sob rips from your throat.

Tears spill down your face, hot and unstoppable, and you hate it—hate that you’re falling apart in front of him, hate that he still has this power over you. But you can’t take it anymore. Not the distance, not the hurt, not the way his voice keeps cutting into you like a blade.

Bellamy’s face twists, something breaking in his expression as he watches you unravel. “Y/N—”

“No!” Your voice cracks, ragged and raw, and you shove at his chest, frustration and pain mixing into one. “I can’t do this anymore, Bellamy! I can’t—” You shake your head wildly, barely able to breathe through the sobs clawing their way out. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this. Like it doesn’t fucking kill me every time you look right through me.”

Bellamy flinches like you just struck him. “That’s not fair,” he snaps, but his voice is weaker now, desperate. “You left first—”

“Because I had to!” you shout, voice breaking. “Because I couldn’t stand being near you anymore! Not when you—” Your breath stutters, your chest heaving as your whole body shakes. “Not when you love her.”

Bellamy’s brows furrow, his frustration surging again. “Goddamn it, Y/N, stop it!” His voice is sharp, cutting, but there’s something fraying at the edges, something just as fragile as you are. “This isn’t about Echo!”

“Then what the hell is it about?” you cry, throwing your hands in the air. “Because all I know is that every time I look at you, I feel like I’m losing you all over again!”

His jaw clenches, his hands twitching at his sides like he doesn’t know whether to grab you or walk away. “You’re not losing me,” he grits out, voice hoarse.

“Yes, I am!” Your voice rises again, hysteria creeping into it. “I already have, Bellamy! And you know what?” You let out a hollow, bitter laugh, shaking your head, tears dripping from your chin. “It’s my own fucking fault.”

Bellamy’s breath stutters, his eyes searching yours, frantic now, desperate. “Y/N—”

“Because I fell in love with you!” The words burst out of you, torn straight from your chest, too loud, too raw, too fucking real.

The room goes deathly silent and Bellamy stills, his whole body locking up. His lips part, his throat working, but no words come.

The silence shatters something inside you. It’s worse than him yelling, worse than him fighting back. The nothingness stretches between you like a gaping wound, and you feel yourself bleeding out, piece by piece, breath by breath.

You let out a choked, humorless laugh, shaking your head as fresh tears burn down your cheeks. “Forget it,” you whisper, voice cracking. “Forget I said anything.”

You turn, reaching for the door, ready to escape, but then Bellamy moves—fast. Before you can take another step, his hands are on your face, cupping your tear stained cheeks, fingers tangling in your hair, holding you there. His grip is firm, almost desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go and then he kisses you. Hard.

It’s not soft or careful. It’s raw, and feverish, like a dam breaking, like months, years of unspoken words and bottled-up feelings crashing down all at once. He pours everything into it, into you, and the moment his lips move against yours, a sob catches in your throat.

Your hands grasp at his jacket, fisting the fabric as your knees nearly give out. Bellamy groans against your lips, pressing closer, his hands sliding down to your waist, pulling you against him like he’s trying to mold your body to his.

The kiss is messy, desperate, almost too much and not enough all at once. It’s teeth and tongue and aching hunger, his breath mixing with yours, his heartbeat hammering against your own. You feel alive again, like every shattered piece of you is finally snapping back into place.

When you finally break apart, you’re both gasping, foreheads pressed together, hands still clinging to each other like lifelines.

Bellamy’s voice is hoarse, wrecked. “I love you.”

Your breath shudders out, and you blink up at him, eyes still glassy with tears. “You—you do?”

Bellamy lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh, but there’s nothing amused about it. “Of course I do,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his other hand still tangled in your hair. “I always have.”

Another sob rises in your throat, but this time, it’s not from heartbreak.

It’s relief. Overwhelming, breathtaking relief.

Bellamy presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, slower—like he’s memorizing you, like he never wants to stop.

And for the first time in a long time, neither of you have to run anymore.

author’s note:

hiii! I hope this one wasn’t too much of a downer 😅 probably one of the most deeply emotional works I’ve written. I know it started out v sad in the beginning but I like to describe how it makes the reader feel so that you guys know where y/n is coming from.

nonny, I hope this is what you were looking for? I know it’s not straight up enemies to lovers but I added a little twist. figured since the reader was clarke’s best friend and co leader of the 100 she and bellamy would’ve gotten along at one point.

anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed! If anyone wants to request anything please see the link below and read the rules before submitting :)

— requests are open.ᐟᅟ please read request rules.ᐟᅟ

tags:

@rubydacherry42 @chalametsangel @imsiriuslyreal (lmk if I’ve missed anyone)

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

my works

140 notes · View notes