#bellamy blake x y/n

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

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

close call | b. blake

masterlist

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

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

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

notes: the ending is sort of abrupt but anyways—

word count: 1.8k

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

“Oh my—fuck! Oh my god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked, dumbfounded. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Right there,” you gasped.

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

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

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

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

“Bell.”

“Mm.”

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

“Bellamy,”you gritted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck!”

***********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#wife of all dilfs ✍️ #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake fluff #bellamy blake x clarke griffin #bellarke #the 100 #bob morley #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamyblake

[narcissisticmf]

persistence | bellamy blake x gn!reader

description: training with bellamy.

trigger warnings: some seductive behavior, gun usage, fluff, etc. read at your own risk.

word count: <1k

Holding the shot gun close against your right shoulder, you aimed it towards the wooden target outside. You'd been the only one training that afternoon, everyone else was at lunch. You closed your left eye and tried your best to hit the center of the target. You pulled the trigger and missed it, the bullet drove through the wood several inches away from the center.

You released a grunt and tossed the gun against the grass and dirt, frustratedly. You kicked a rock that was by your feet as you clenched your jaw. Placing your hands against your hips, you stood still for a moment, staring at the target for a while; as if it would give you the answer as to how to shoot the center of it.

"It's really not that complicated," Bellamy's voice was heard from behind you.

You parted your lips and released a soft breath, uninterested in his instruction. "I almost had it," You avoided eye contact and reached down to lift up the shot gun, holding it tightly against your shoulder again.

Bellamy stood behind you, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you for a moment. His eyes squinted subtly due to the brightness of the sun.

You pulled the trigger and missed by a hair again. You sighed, quietly.

"Hold it up again," Bellamy instructed, walking towards you.

"I don't need your help," You replied, looking back to him.

"Just hold it," He said, not phased by your attitude. You looked ahead at the target and held up the gun again. Bellamy's hands slowly moved around to your arms to fix their position. You could feel his breath fanning against your neck. The closeness caused a lump to develop in your throat, unable to speak.

"Yeah.." Bellamy cleared his throat and stepped back, awkwardly. "Like that," He nodded.

You felt your grip against the gun loosen from the sweat that produced in the palms of your hands. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself back into focus and closed your left eye again. Bellamy stood at your side and watched as you pulled the trigger.

The bullet swiftly moved through the red painted dot against the wood carved into a circle. You smiled widely as you stared at the hole in the middle of the target.

"I did it!" You laughed, almost baffled that you were capable of doing it. You turned to see Bellamy and he was smiling at you. That was something he didn't always do often, but when he did it was beautiful.

"I told you it wasn't that complicated," He smiled. "It's all in how you hold it."

"Thanks, Bellamy," You grinned.

He simply nodded with a smile to his lips.

.

a/n: hi, darlings!! so i just started watching the 100 and it's honestly so good! i hope that i captured bellamy's character well here and if i didn't, i'm sorry 😭 i'm still learning his character! love you guys mwah! — angelina

#smut #imagine #reader #x reader #edit #the 100 #bellamy blake #octavia blake #clarke griffin #the 100 x reader #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x you #y/n #murphy #john murphy #bellamy x reader #raven reyes #grounder #ice nation

[leclercstarrs]

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.

#this is lame sorry baes #gonna proof read soon the grammar might be super bad since it was so late anyways #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #the 100 x reader #the 100 #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake #bellamy x reader #bellamy the 100 #the 100 bellamy #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x you

[strawberryforks]

whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake x reader

summary: reader didn’t care much for living, the eldest blake sibling made it worthwhile, even enjoyable

warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts/ideation, swearing

word count: 1908

a/n: this one is a bit heavy. i was having a bad day so i will apologize for turning the cutesy “how did bellamy and reader meet” request into this emotional abomination (sorry)

you probably should have been excited to be on the ground. it was that or being floated–tossed into a lock sealed door, trapped, and taunted with the faces of whatever loved ones chose to say goodbye (you didn’t have to worry about that, the only family you had, you met in lock up–your bio dad, marcus kane, was awful and on days that ended in ‘y’, you opted to pretend he didn’t exist) before another door would open and you’d be sucked out into space. the little oxygen in your lungs would tear them apart. what had sustained you for so long would then be your downfall. what you needed to breath would kill you.

you’d be so hot, so hot as your blood boiled and so hot as you died, staring out at the stars you loved so much. you were nineteen, the oldest prisoner to be alive and on the arc, but even kane’s powers had their limits. in three days you would be floated. three days until that would be your fate and still.

still.

when you woke up on that dropship you were pissed. it was the first thing you were mad about.

with a forever fuck-it attitude, you unbuckled your seat. floating around with a few others you ignored your best friend when she told you “sit back down, dumbass!” you cracked a grin and then the lights flickered.

while entering the new atmosphere something went wrong—something malfunctioned. maybe the shutes didn’t deploy or maybe you were just lucky but when the screaming started, you didn’t hear it for more than a few seconds because you were flung into one of the metal walls, just above the seats, and your vision spotted before going disappearing completely. sounds dulled, everything dulled. you were probably dying, you smiled because of that

when you landed, you woke up. that was the second thing you were mad about.

you were suspended in the air in some kind of fabric. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, not until you attempted to stretch your stiff limbs and found the material twisting. it spat you out on the ground and you made a noise. it bubbled from the back of your throat, expressing your obvious upset, you lifted your hand to touch your cheekbone–it was throbbing and you had the vague memory of your face slamming into the dropship wall. at fucking nineteen, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with any of this. you should’ve been floated a long damn time ago, would’ve like to have been too. you were the oldest prisoner on the ark, only alive because of who your daddy was. the daughter of marcus kane (you hate him as much as the next person) you’d been spared. he tended to get what he wanted.

where you lie, a boy does across from you on another makeshift bed. you lean over him, study him. He has some features you recognize. freckles and long eyelashes. you’re peering over him, observing, when those eyelashes lift and he’s blinking up at you. you scoot backwards not wanting to bang heads (yours was quite tender).

the hand that you have been absentmindedly feeling around your face with, came away with no blood coating, “i’m ocatavia’s brother, bellamy.” bellamy blake, okay. you’d heard of him and despite never meeting him before, the stories octavia had told you, mostly about how he protected her and made life under the floor less horrendous, you decided he was safe.

you glance at him, not all that hesitant. your best friend was a force and if she left you alone, in here, with him, he was trustworthy. your lips are pressed into a tight line. you don’t need to introduce yourself, he already knows. of course he does. you assure yourself he knows because you’re his little sister’s best friend and not because you’re kane’s daughter, the one who killed a man and got away scot free. you had a damn good reason but the ark’s justice system was lacking.

you tell yourself he isn’t judging you, he doesn’t look like he is, but you know you deserve to be judged so it’s a losing battle.

you glance down at your wrist and see it’s bare. the band that transmits your vitals to the ark is missing, and when you look at his wrist, you realise he isn’t wearing one either. “lost in the rough landing?” you ask, with a lilt to your voice.

his shoulders shake as he laughs a little. “something like that.”

you sit back up and climb back into your hammock. this time your hands are both out beside you to stabilise yourself. it’s quiet for a moment, the tent dark enough you know it’s night time. “why’d you take it?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“the ark hasn’t done anything for us. they sent us down here to die, because we’re expendable. in their eyes we’re just repaying them.”

oh. so your dad probably thinks you’re dead right now. that doesn’t unsettle you as much as it would the average person–actually you don’t mind it at all. let him learn what it means to fail, to lose, in some permanent way. let him face the brunt of the consequences his actions wrought for once. maybe this sentence would be the one to ruin him.

you stare at the pitch of the tent. are we on earth right now? is it safe? did the others survive? what happens now? your mind is flooded with questions.

“you think loudly.” bellamy informs.

“i’ve been out for awhile, huh?” in response, he nodded. “is it okay? is everyone okay?”

“they are. you almost weren’t though. that stunt you pulled? it was a whole different level of dumb.”

it’s peaceful until sunrise when the screaming starts. Guttural moans and groans echo from within the camp. “That’s jasper,” bellamy supplies while you’re rubbing your head, all but pleading with the ache to subside.

then octavia’s bursting through the tent flaps, “i knew i heard voices!” she pulls you outside with her and just… woah. everything is brighter. unlike the monotones on the ark there’s all kinds of colours. blue sky, green tress. they’re so green and so many different shades. light, dark, sage, evergreen. you’ve never seen anything so beautiful, other than your stars. you miss them, and looking up at the sky you can’t see them only clouds–white floating cotton that moves with the wind. you’re on earth and you don’t know if you belong here but in all fairness you didn’t belong on that spaceship either. the only place you thought might be a good fit for you was now miles upon miles away. a good thing, if you asked octavia.

the “whatever the hell we want” movement was one you supported quickly and joined even quicker. bellamy and his buddies at its forefront you figured, why not. you liked to fight, so thats what you did. you threw punches and received them and slaps to the face. It satiated you need to self destruct and would until bellamy or octavia intervened. you didn’t quite care for danger and took as many guard and patrol shifts as you could. you liked carrying a weapon, liked exploring, and hated being cooped up and confined.

you were walking away from the wall, alone this time, with no particular destination in mind. sometimes you brought octavia with you but she was busy talking and flirting (not in that particular order) her brother never liked when she joined in on your adventures so it was probably better that she wasn’t with you.

“not dragging my sister along with you this time?” a familiar voice chided. bellamy blake. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

you shrug your shoulders and continue walking. “not this time, no.”

“hey! come back. where the hell do you think you’re going.”

“i haven’t decided yet. maybe the river. maybe the caves. maybe, it’s none of your business,” you respond dryly, still walking ahead. his hand clamps down on your arm and he stops you from moving further, “what, bellamy? what?” his eyes, alight with fire, something you’ve seen in your best friend once or twice, full of curiosity, and understanding, meet your own. he gazes into your dead ones, takes a look at your blank expression and bends down. a hand grips the backs of your thighs and then he’s picking you up. you’re slung over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and had you not been so emotionally empty you would've been incredibly impressed. “what the hell bellamy? what are you doing?”

“whatever the hell i want, though, that? it doesn’t apply to you anymore, not when you don’t know what you want,”

“i do,” you argue.

“not when what you want isn’t anything good.” he fires back.

and that’s how you met bellamy blake. at first you hated him, hated how he drug you along wherever he went–patrol was nice but he would insist on bringing you everywhere, even on the most pointless errands. to do the most boring things. he made you drag logs to help reinforce the wall and sometimes he didn’t even help. prison warden or friend, who fucking knew?

but bellamy kept you busy. kept you distracted from the brewing storm in your head.

you got used to him. bellamy blake became your new normal and even made you smile a few times, usually when firelight was reflecting off of both of your cheeks as you roasted your dinner. the first time, you sat on a log beside him, your supper sitting inside of the flames, blackening. he went to grab the stick from you–probably guessing you were attempting to light yourself on fire, or that you’d begun to dissociate. you snatch the stick back. “it’s burning,” he warns, voice having a sharp edge.

“sorry if i would rather taste charcoal than two headed, six tailed, mutated squirrel.”

that night he held you. you let him.

close to his chest and away from any and all danger, you slept soundly and dreamlessly for the first time in years. the sleep–it helped with your mood, too.

bellamy held you again. he always liked to hold you—to have a hand in yours or resting on your shoulder. this time, the touch wasn’t comforting, to assure himself that you were real and not going anywhere. this time that physical touch was the only reason you weren’t going anywhere. his grip was tighter, thank god.

the grounders were coming an the only way to stop them or at least to slow them down was to blow up the bridge. you needed to place the bomb but everyone was terrified to let you go, bellamy especially. you did what you had to, sneaking away and setting it. you were scared–you didn’t know when it happened, when you started wanting to live, but it was a soul-deep change that you knew had something to do with the blake siblings. specifically bellamy, who’s companionship you hadn’t wanted but needed more than anything.

you placed the bomb on the bridge and detonated it, running as fast as you could as the moss covered stone crumbled behind you. the structural integrity was giving away and you were so close tot he edge but… you started to fall. you closed your eyes, pressed them shut as tightly as you could and then that hand was there.

bellamy’s. closed around your wrist and holding on for all he was worth. your heart beat so hard in your chest you had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been speared by a grounder, and that it wasn’t leaking out.

you loved him and you were so thankful he never listened to you. when you said you didn’t need him, when earlier, you shouted at him and told him not to follow you–it was a weak distraction but now, he pulled you back onto solid ground and wrapped you in his arms and you had no regrets. none at all. well… you had one, but it was easily rectified.

it was a struggle, pushing him away at the shoulders, holding him at arms length and seeing the worry on his face all over again. it was a struggle but when you stopped regretting things and dove back in, moulding your lips together in a passionate kiss, everything was better. bell’s hand palmed your cheek and pulled you impossibly closer as yours moved through his hair.

#the 100 #bellamy blake #octavia blake #marcus kane #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n

[ilguna]

☼ warfare (Bellamy Blake) ☼

summary; when everyone in camp starts becoming ill, you volunteer to help, not knowing that your boyfriend would come down with it, too.

warnings; swearing, ehh gore, weapon mention.

wc; 4.8k

–

You pull your boot on, stomping your foot into the dirt to make sure it’s on all the way, straightening the tongue to make it more comfortable on your foot. You yank at the laces to tighten them, liking your shoes on nice and tight, but not enough to cut off circulation.

You hate it when you sleep in so late, it’s never on purpose. It makes you feel like you’re not pulling your weight, when everyone else has been working for hours, and you’re just getting up. In reality, you tend to work the overnight shifts at the wall for the people who don’t want to do it, because you don’t mind. You work just as hard as everyone else does.

You stand up, stretching your arms above your head, letting out a loud yawn. The only reason why you’re even awake in the first place, is because of a sliver of sunlight that managed to make it through a rip in the tent. It happened to land right on your face, and after so long, you couldn’t sleep through it anymore.

You crouch, lifting up the corner of the makeshift mattress to find your knife underneath, pulling it out. You flick it open, checking to make sure that it’s clean, before closing it. If it were up to you, you’d sleep with it underneath your pillow. The issue is that you share the bed with Bellamy, and he has a habit of sticking his arm beneath the pillow. You found that out after he cut his bicep by accident last week, because you like to keep it open for faster and easier access.

You tuck it into your pocket, before heading out of the tent. The sun is bright, blinding you slightly. You squint through it, listening to the commotion that’s happening out here. When you can finally see, you can see there’s a problem unfolding next to the fire. Where you usually find most people gathered to keep warm, there’s only one that’s sat in front of it.

It’s Derek, he’s got blood smeared around his mouth, hand cupped beneath his chin.

Your face twists, dropping the tent flap behind you so it can fall back into place.

Clarke suddenly rushes past you, heading for the dropship. From a brief look at her, you can see red smeared beneath her eyes, almost reaching her chin. You follow after her, checking behind you to see if there’s anyone else. Only, you see that there’s a semi-circle around Derek now, barely propping himself upright.

“What have I missed?” You ask, jogging to catch up with Clarke.

“I think that whatever Murphy has is spreading.” She says, giving you a look over her shoulder. “To everyone that gets too close.”

You’re sure the last comment is her way of trying to tell you to back off because you might get sick, but you continue after her. She walks up the path and into the dropship, holding the curtains open long enough for you to catch them, being mindful to move when you get close.

Inside, you can hear wet coughing. Around Clarke, you can see Murphy’s beaten up body, hunched over the floor. When he showed up yesterday, there were a lot of mixed reactions. A lot of people were pissed that he was let back inside, human emotion took over when you all realized how bad of a condition he’s in.

You can’t say that you feel bad for him, though. He’s gotten everything that’s deserved to come for him so far, and you guess this is just another round of it. He looks like hell.

He begins coughing again, you can hear the blood splatter on the ground as he struggles to hold himself up. His clothes are torn in several places from trying to escape the grounders, revealing the wounds he’s suffered from them. Clarke gets close, not worried about her safety because she’s already sick, and gets on the ground with him.

“Murphy, hey, look at me.” She says, he slowly raises his head to meet her eyes. “I need you to tell me exactly how you escaped from the grounders. What happened?”

Blood drips from his mouth, “I don’t know. I woke up, and they forgot to lock my cafe. There was no one there, so I took off.”

Clarke’s silent for a second, turning this information over in her mind. “They let you go.”

“What?” You ask, “Why—?”

The curtain moves, light shining inside of the dropship. You turn to see Bellamy coming inside, gun prepared in his hand. He looks over your face first, checking to make sure you’re okay, before landing on the two on the floor.

“Bellamy, stay back.” Clarke says.

You grab his arm, making sure he doesn’t get any closer. He presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth, missing your lips, “Did he do something to you?” Clarke shakes her head, Bellamy takes a few more steps forward to see more clearly, you hold onto him. “What the hell is this?”

“Biological warfare.” Clarke says, “You were waiting for the grounders to retaliate for the bridge? This is it.” She turns her attention back to Murphy, “Murphy’s the weapon.”

When Murphy looks up from the ground, you can see the full damage done to his face. He’s covered in cuts and gnarly wounds in general, blood smeared over every inch of his face from the eyes down. Along with that, his eyes are swollen, the cuts are swollen, and his lips are too. 

You press your lips together, thinking over what this could mean. How long before everyone else in camp gets sick? If Clarke thinks it spreads through touch, then it’s only a matter of time before your worst nightmare comes true. Murphy touched three, and who did those three get to? Will it affect everyone or only a select number?

The curtains are drawn to the side again, the three of you watch as the two from outside are brought in by other people. It’s Derek and Connor, they must’ve been the ones to help Murphy inside. They’re just more people that could possibly end up as bad as Murphy, or as mellow as Clarke is right now. 

The two newcomers are laid on the ground, where they immediately begin to succumb to the coughing fits.

You share a look with Bellamy, wondering if you should be covering your mouth with your shirt or something. If this turns out to be the base for the sick, then the place will be a petri dish in no time. You’re asking for it.

“Is this your revenge, helping the grounders kill us?” Bellamy asks, Clarke has begun to dab at some of Murphy’s wounds with a wet rag, starting with his forehead and working her way down.

“I didn’t know about this, okay? I swear.” Murphy mutters.

“Stop lying!” Bellamy shouts, “When are they coming?”

“Murphy, think, all right?” Clarke starts, “What can you tell us that’s useful? Did you hear anything?”

Murphy shakes his head slightly, “They’re vicious, cruel.”

“You want to see vicious?” Bellamy starts forward. You grab at his jacket, trying to get him from getting any closer than you already are. He rips the fabric from your grasp, continuing.

“Hey, don’t.” Clarke says, “Whatever this thing is, it spreads through contact.”

“That doesn’t mean anything anymore, most of you could be infected right now, then.” You say.

Clarke tilts her head, eyebrows raised, trying to tell you that you’re right without saying it out loud. It’s not a comforting thought, knowing that you’re right.

The curtain opens suddenly, and closes just as quick, Finn jogs into the room, “Clarke?”

“Finn, you shouldn’t be in here.” Clarke says, “No one should.”

“We’re fucked.” You sigh, running your fingers through your hair.

“I heard you were sick.” He breathes, looking around the room. It begins to dawn on him, “Clarke, what is this?”

“I don’t know, some kind of hemorrhagic fever.” She shakes her head, “We just need to contain it before—”

She’s interrupted by Derek when he begins to vomit all over the floor, body shaking so violently that he falls flat on the ground. You take a step back to give him more room, Clarke launches to her feet.

Finn reaches for her, she moves his hands away, “Hey, don’t touch me. You could get sick.” They share a look before she moves on, going to help Derek, “Wash your hands, now.”

Finn goes, like he’s ordered to.

“What the hell is happening to him?”

“I don’t know.” Clarke mutters.

A dark red and liquidy vomit hits the floor, consisting mostly of blood. This is when you lift your shirt over your nose to cover the smell, and watch as the boy collapses entirely in his own puddle of puke, the coughing ceases. Clarke gets down next to him, turning his head and finding no resistance. She reaches for his neck.

“Is he…?” Bellamy trails off.

Clarke’s expression falls, turning to look at you two, “He’s dead.”

There’s a few seconds of silence that goes through the room, where no one moves and stares at either Clarke or the body. It kills. The disease that Murphy brought into camp kills.

Once again, she’s the first person to move, grabbing a bottle off the shelf, going up to Finn. “Here, alcohol, hold out your hand.” She dumps enough to douse his hands.

“What do we do?” He asks.

“Quarantine.” She says, “Round up everyone who had contact with Murphy. Bring them here.”

Finn nods, not bothering to wait, leaving the dropship.

Bellamy’s eyebrows raise, “And everyone they had contact with?”

“Well, we have to start somewhere.” Clarke reasons, before turning around, “Connor, who was with you when you found him? Who carried him in? Think.”

Connor’s got a ring of red around his mouth because of the blood that leaked from his nose. The tips of his fingers are covered in blood, “The first one there was Octavia.”

Bellamy’s lips part, eyes widening. He doesn’t even look at you before starting out of the dropship, leaving you here with Clarke, Connor and Murphy.

You shake your head slightly, backing up to the opening, “Do you think some of us could be immune?”

“It’s hard to tell.” Clarke’s eyes find the ground, eyebrows drawing in. “It’s possible, but there’s always delayed reactions.”

You take a spot by the door, planting your feet, leaning against the wall. You hold your shirt over your nose. It can’t be of much use to do this anymore, considering you’ve breathed their air. You could be sick in a matter of hours or as late as tomorrow.

Finn gets to work outside. In the span of fifteen minutes, the ship has already begun to fill up with sick people, being carried in by those who volunteer to help. It isn’t too long after when Bellamy comes in with Octavia, who doesn’t look like she’s sick at all.

Regardless, Clarke does a number of tests on her, trying to see if she has any of the range of symptoms that keep coming out. She has Octavia pull the skin beneath her eyes down and tilt her head back to check her ose. It ends with Clarke shining a flashlight into the back of her throat, checking for sores that might produce blood.

“Okay, we’re done.” Clarke clicks it off, “No visible signs of swelling or bleeding.”

Bellamy’s rubbing his chin, “So you’re saying she doesn’t have it?”

“Don’t touch your face, Bell.” You pull at his wrist, ignoring the look he gives you for it.

“I’m saying she doesn’t have symptoms, but that could change.” Clarke says, “We need to keep her here just in case.”

“No way.” He motions to the people on the floor, “Look at this place. SHe’ll get sick just being here.”

“Do you want to stop the spread, or not?” She asks, “Look, I’ll keep her on the third level with the people who aren’t symptomatic yet. Think of it as a way to stop her from sneaking out again.”

Octavia’s face twits, “Screw you, Clarke.”

“I’ll let you know if her condition changes.” She says. 

“I’ll stay here too, to keep an eye on her.” You touch Bellamy’s arm, his expression changes entirely.

“No, I’m not letting you stay here, too. You haven’t even had contact with anyone that’s sick. You’re asking for it.” He tells you. 

“Someone needs to be in here to help them..” You raise your eyebrows. He clenches his teeth, the outline of his jaw becomes more defined, “I’ll be okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, turning around and walking straight through the curtains to the outside. You let out a sigh, moving the hair out of your face before looking back at Octavia and Clarke. 

Octavia’s done with the conversation, though, heading for the latter directly behind Clarke.

“Octavia, wait.” Clarke turns, “I need you to sneak out again.”

It doesn’t take much to convince Octavia to go and see Lincoln. She leaves immediately, and Clarke asks if you’re going to help cover her absence if Bellamy comes in questioning her. You nod, remarking that you already signed up for that when you said that you’d keep an eye on her for him.

In the meantime, you make yourself a bandana that you tie above your nose to be more careful. If they cough in your face, there’s no way for you to breathe it in, much less get the blood all over. You jump in, trying to help the best you can, moving around the room with Clarke to check on people to see if they’re okay.

The good news is, besides Derek, there’s only one other person that you find dead. She’s laying flat on her face, similar to the way Derek did when he died. You have one of the guys help you carry her out, lining her right up next to him.

“All right, show’s over. Get back to your posts.” Bellamy says, coming toward the ship, “You got enough food in there, water?”

“Yeah.” You smile.

“Some medicine might be nice.” Clarke says.

Bellamy laughs, “I’ll see what I can do.” You and Clarke turn to walk in. “Octavia, you okay?”

Your eyes slide over to Clarke, and you walk another two steps before turning like she does. She’s quiet for too long, it’s a dead giveaway that there’s something going on between you three.

“She’s sleeping.” You lie straight through your teeth, giving him a pretty smile, “We’ve got her isolated from everyone else. I’ve been watching her, as promised.”

He squints at you, watching your face, “What’s going on?”

He’s too smart for you to lie like this. You’ve got to try harder, “We—”

Clarke completely cuts you off, not bothering to keep it up, “She’s not here. I sent her to see Lincoln. Look, if there’s a cure, he has it. I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t let her go.”

You let out a sigh from your nose. You should’ve known that she wouldn’t actually lie to him. Bellamy glares right at you, you tilt your head at him, pressing your lips together. 

“If anything happens to her, you and me are gonna have problems.” He says, beginning to turn, “You too, (Y/n).”

“Bells.” You take a few steps down the slope.

“Bellamy!” Clarke calls.

The two of you watch him walk away. You let out a scoff, pulling the bandana down from your face, eyeing Clarke, “I thought you wanted a cover, moron.”

“There’s no point.” She mutters, voice nasally, unaffected by what you called her.

“Out of my way.” Bellamy barks. 

You and everyone else out here watch as the guy he’s talking to turns around, bloody tears streaming from his eyes. 

“Dude, your eyes!” Someone says, another pulls out his gun, aiming at him.

“Nobody touch him!”

You reach to pull the bandana up.

“Get to the drop ship, now.” Bellamy points, you watch as three other people aim their guns at the guy. He starts walking toward you two.

“Hey, are you okay?” Raven asks, you look in time to watch a girl collapse, hands covered in red. Two people move to grab her to avoid hitting the ground, and in return, she coughs a spray of blood in their faces.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, it’s on me!”

The second guy wipes the blood from his face onto his hands, smearing it, wandering it in the direction of a few people. They all pull out their guns, aiming at him, “Get away! Get back! Get back!”

You stand in horror,w watching as the panic grows, people covering their mouths, backing away from others. More guns are being pulled, people raising their hands in defense.

“Calm down.” Bellamy orders.

“Put that gun down!” Finn shouts.

Clarke doesn’t watch for long before turning around and heading into the ship. She comes out a second later, a gun in her hand. She points the barrel up, firing three shots. All eyes hit her, silence sweeping the camp. She heads down a few steps, “This is exactly what the grounders want. Don’t you see that? They don’t have to kill us if we kill each other first.”

“They won’t have to kill us if we all catch the virus!” One of the guys shout at her, pointing the gun in her direction, “Get back in the damn dropship!”

Bellamy takes three long strides, grabbing the gun to disarm him. In the process, he slams the butt of the gun into the guys’ throat, he falls to his knees.

“Not to state the obvious, but your quarantine isn’t working.” Bellamy tells her.

When you look over at Clarke, you watch as her eyes roll into the back of her head, the gun beginning to fall from her hand. You jerk forward to catch her before she hits the dirt, managing to grab her arms before Finn swoops in, holding her across his arms.

“Hey, let me go. I’m okay.” Clarke breathes.

“No, you’re not.” He says.

“Octavia will come back with a cure.” She says.

“There is no cure.” Octavia jogs over, “But the grounders don’t use the sickness to kill.”

“Really? Tell that to them.” Bellamy motions to the two bodies on the ground, “I warned you about seeing that grounder again>”

“Yeah, well, I have a warning for you, too.” She says, “The grounders are coming. And they’re attacking at first light.”

She walks right past Bellamy, looking at Finn, “Come on. I’ll help you get Clarke into the dropship.”

You look at Bellamy, pulling the mask down again. He eyes for face for a long couple of seconds, “I can’t believe you let her go, knowing how I feel about them.”

You nod, making a face, “We have to take chances sometimes, you know that better than anyone else.” You cross your arms, “And for the record, if Clarke hadn’t sent her, we wouldn’t know that we’re all going to die tomorrow morning.”

Bellamy’s lips turn up slightly, “You know I’d never let them touch you.”

“I know.” You agree, beginning to back up, “I’ll keep an actual eye on her this time.”

He nods, “Be careful, please.”

“I always am.” You say, pulling the mask over your nose, heading into the dropship.

Inside, you find that Murphy’s given up his hammock so that Clarke can rest in it instead. You start to walk over, Clarke’s half-open eyes land on you. She’s pale, and you can see a thin layer of sweat on her forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Bellamy can never stay mad at me.” You stop by her feet, “I’ll kep an eye on everyone.”

“I’ll help you.” Octavia offers. 

“Me too.” Murphy gets up from where he’s sitting. He looks at you, “I’m feeling better.”

“That’s good.” You grab the nearest cup off of a table, rinsing it in the clean bucket of water before scooping drinkable water out of a different bucket. 

The three of you work as a team to get around the room, slowly hydrating the people that can’t move because of how much pain they’re in. There’s a few instances where they’ll cough in your face, blood splattering around your eyes, but never in your mouth. You try to feed them what little food you have to offer, and then move onto cleaning faces the best you can, even though you know that they won’t stay that way for long.

By the time the sun sets, you’re the only one still consistently moving around, making beds and fluffing pillows for people to use so that they can actually rest. Clarke watches you half of the time, making sure that you’re doing everything correctly when an emergency arises. She stops trying to tell you what you should be doing when she realizes that you’re getting the job done either way.

“I’m going to take a breather.” You say, washing your face with the clean water, and then dumping a small handful of the alcohol over your hands. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Take your time.” Clarke breathes, “You’ve been doing a lot.”

“You want anything from your tent?” You ask.

“No, I’m okay.” She smiles.

You leave through the curtains, immediately pulling the bandana down so you can get a few lungfuls of fresh air. It’s hot in there from the amount of unmoving bodies. You feel sticky from the sweat and blood that clings to you desperately. You’d give anything to take a shower.

You jog down the slope and toward your tent, hoping that you’ll meet someone along the way that has good news. They’ve got a lot of people that are putting their heads together to ensure that you’ll all be safe tomorrow morning, but they haven’t shared those plans just yet.

The moon is shining exceptionally bright tonight, you don’t even need the fires that light up the path. 

Halfway through your journey, you find Jasper, talking down at the corner of some tent. You’re about to make a joke, when you see that he’s talking to someone, not himself. And when you get closer, you see that it’s Bellamy.

“Bells!” You gasp, jogging closer.

“Stay back.” He holds his hand out. You can see that there’s blood running from his nose. You reach to untie the bandana from the back of your neck, turning it into a rag. You crouch down next to him, moving his hand away to wipe the blood. He turns his head away, eyes on Jasper, “Make the shot. Find Finn, go.” 

Jasper leaves, you move the hair out of Bellamy’s face, feeling how hot his forehead is, “Can you stand?”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He murmurs.

“I came out to see if you guys came up with a plan.” You say, “And because I needed a breather. It’s not easy being in there.”

“Is Octavia okay?”

“She’s fine.” You tell him, “Let’s get you up so you can see for yourself.”

Bellamy doesn’t want to touch you with his bloodied hands, so you wipe them as clean as you can. The two of you work together to get him on his feet, you pull an arm over your shoulder, trying to get him to lean on you.

“I can walk.”

“Must be why you fell over then, right?” You muse, he sucks in a breath. 

You work to get him to the ship, he’s dragging his feet, one arm wrapped around his abdomen. Everytime he teeters to one side, you have to try hard to correct it without sending you both falling over.

“Octavia!” You shout, helping him up the slope.

The curtains whip open less than a second later, taking in the sight of you two, before turning to look back inside, “Clear some space!”

Murphy jumps up to fix one of the beds, Octavia takes Bellamy’s other side, because he’s beginning to sink to the floor with each step. As soon as you get him to the end of the bed, you slowly lower him onto it, trying to be gentle.

Bellamy lays on his back, coughing up a mouthful of blood. You jerk to roll him over, watching as it all leaves his mouth, splattering onto the floor. He gags, Octavia pats his back.

“Hey, big brother.” She breathes, leaning over him.

You wipe his face with a dry rag, trying to keep the blood from running down the side of his jaw and onto his neck.

“I’m scared.”

“I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Octavia tells him. 

“That’s what I said to you the day you were born.” He’s sucking in air, having difficulty breathing. 

“I know.” She says. “You told me that, like, a thousand times.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” He grabs her hand, squeezing it.

“Just get some rest now, okay?”

Bellamy nods, tears pooling in his eyes. He closes them, head turning to the side. You make eye contact with Octavia, and a silent agreement passes between you two. You nod, telling her that you’ll stay right here.

Octavia gets up to go, you sit flat on your butt, crossing your legs. You slowly run a hand through Bellamy’s hair, wiping away the tears that escape. You try humming to him, knowing that trick works every now and then. He crosses his arms over his chest tightly, so you move to unzip your jacket, laying it across his chest.

He takes your hand in his.

It isn’t too long after when he falls asleep, body relaxing. You sit over him and watch to make sure that he’s still breathing and not choking on his own bloody vomit. Murphy and Octavia take turns to help out everyone, but it seems like people keep turning them away because of how tired they are.

However, there’s a few that are coming back to life, the illness finally passing. Even Clarke begins to get restless.

It’s a few hours later when Bellamy begins to stir. You lift your head from where you have it on the bed, placing your hand on his knee. His face twists before his eyes open suddenly, searching the room for a split second, but he stops as soon as he sees you, sitting up. 

“I’ve got water.” Murphy says, coming over with a cup.

You take it from him, Bellamy glares at him, “Thanks, I’ve got it.”

“Yeah.” He watches Bellamy for a second before walking away.

You pass the cup over, rubbing Bellamy’s knee for a second. He turns his attention to you, “Have you slept?”

“Partially.” You admit, “I don’t need you worrying about me. I work the overnight shifts, this is nothing compared to how late I’ve stayed up patrolling before.”

He doesn’t argue, “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, no symptoms. You look better.”

He takes a drink of the water, and then sets the cup on the floor. Clarke comes over, sitting on the bed next to Bellamy.

“Either of you seen Octavia?”

“She was up all night helping people.” You tell him, “Murphy gave her a break.”

Clarke gives him a look.

Bellamy squints at her, face twisting, “Don’t tell me you trust him now.”

“Trust? No.” Clarke looks away, “I do believe in second chances, though.”

Bellamy shakes his head, changing the topic, “It’s almost dawn. Better get everyone inside. If we lock the doors, maybe the grounders will think we’re not home.”

“Not everyone’s sick.” She says.

“Sick is better than dead.” Bellamy says.

“He’s right.” You agree.

“You don’t think Finn and Jasper are gonna pull it off.” She says, it’s not a question.

“Do you?” He asks.

She pauses for a second, “I’ll get everyone inside.”

Clarke gets to her feet, shuffling out of the dropship. You stretch, letting out a yawn.

“You should sleep, (Y/n).” He says, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“Should is the key word.” You say, “I’m not sleeping until everything’s settled.”

You get to your feet, tilting his head back so you can kiss his forehead, knowing better than to test your luck by aiming for his lips. He must think this is risky, because he pushes your hand away.

“Bells,” You murmur, “Stop.”

“Don’t.”

“I’ve had sick people coughing in my face all day, you think I can’t handle your germs?” You laugh, pushing his hand out of the way. You hold onto either side of his head, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “See?”

“Yeah.” He says, watching you sit next to him. He pulls you into his side, “Thanks for watching me all night.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

#ilguna #bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake oneshot #bellamy blake fanfic #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x yn #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy imagine #bellamy oneshot #bellamy fanfic #bellamy x reader #bellamy x you #bellamy x yn #bellamy x y/n #the 100 #angst #requested

[undercovernationalsuperstar]

NEW MAN ALERT

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n

[vviolets444rroses]

hehehe send me wattpad/tumblr fanfics of bellamy blake 🤗🤗 PLEASEEE this is my new hyperfixation

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy x reader #bellamy x clarke #the 100

[majorietaylorsversion]

meet cute w/ bellamy

you are having a boring night at a boring bar, until you meet bellamy.

(all characters are 18+)

warning: drinking

The door opened, and you felt the warmth of the room on your face. It was late autumn, with the leaves finally done with turning red and now were in the process of beating the snow to the ground. With the cold nipping at your nose, you step through the threshold. 

A wave of noise hits you straight away, as you struggle to not let it slow you as you follow your friend further inside. The laughter combined with a thumping beat of music almost makes you want to dig your heels in and flee, but you’d already promised you’d stay for at least one drink. So you weave your way through the thick tangle of bodies, to the bar, with dimmed lights and a limited number of empty seats. You sighed. Ignoring the call of your bed, and your lovely apartment, you turned to the bartender. 

Hesitantly, you got out, “Uh, I’ll have a strawberry mojito, if that’s all good.”  

"Sure, sugar, that's all good with me." The bartender replies, his eyes dragging slipperly down your form. You shudder in response, but quirk a half smile, just to keep him happy. He looks to be around twenty years your senior, judging from the almost complete lack of hair and the sort of wrinkles, but he is still making your drink.

He keeps his eyes on you while he whips up your cocktail. By this point you have turned to your friend to chat, half paying attention and half intentionally avoiding the slick-like-oil gaze of the side of your face.

Your eyes dip around the bar you've been partially dragged into, and find despite your lack of love for loud places, it's actually not too bad.  It's full of people, yeah, but there's not much you can do. The fullness gives it a more cozy vibe, especially with the season and current weather, and once you actually pay attention to the music, it's more of a pleasant hum than an incessant banging of instruments. You can see smiles on peoples faces, hear murmurings of laughter, and you know from the rosy blushes on everyone's cheeks, this bar isn't bad. Save for the creepy bartender.

"Oh look! There's Raven and everyone," your friend pipes up, "Hang on, let me go say hi." And without waiting for your reply, she’s already jumping off her seat, to go see her friends that you very much don’t know. Leaving you alone. With the bartender. 

You grimace, but really, you should’ve expected it. This is why you don’t go out. You’re staring wistfully at the group of people your friend has just joined, the thrum of bodies, mixed with sweet smiles and half drunk laughter, floating it’s way back to you across the room. You’re still staring when your drink is put next to you with a clink of glass on wood. The seat squeaks slightly as you turn back towards it. You have to admit; it does look good. All pink and strawberry and hopefully not too strong. 

“There you go, sugar, drink that on up.” The gag that makes its way up your throat is almost impossible to stop, but despite everything, you don’t want to be rude and spit out the drink you’d just sipped. That would be rude. That would be causing a scene. Both, you want to avoid. You pull that half smile back on to your face, dragging your eyes up to his face, but that’s it. You are officially ending this interaction. Grabbing your drink, that suddenly seems even less appealing, you turn back around, hoping that your friend had not actually forgotten about you. No such luck. 

After more than five minutes of waiting patiently at the bar, you are seriously considering just downing your cocktail in one go and hightailing it out of here. Before you can, a broad figure slides into the spot next to you, already turning to the bartender to order a drink. It startles you, slightly, the annoyance of the evening making you forget there are actual other people at this bar, not just your (officially ex) friend and the weird man at the bar. But, no, you think, it does not change your plans. You still glance up at the stranger, curious enough to want to catch a glimpse of his face, to add a teeny bit of excitement to your dull night.  

He’s already looking at you when you do, and you only catch a hint of warm brown eyes before you look away, heat already creeping to your cheeks. He’s pretty. He’s really pretty. And he’s chuckling at your reaction, a low drawl of a sound. You don’t turn back to him, instead deciding to look everywhere else, even when his large body boscurs a significant portion of your view of the room. 

A drink clatters down next to you, and the man says something to the bartender, probably a thank you, but you don’t catch it. He doesn’t leave yet, and from the corner of your eye, you know he has angled his body towards you now. A flutter of butterflies erupt in your stomach in anticipation, but you don’t move. Maybe he’s going to tell you that you’ve got your shirt on back to front, or something. You’re doing something wrong, something embarrassing, something stupid, that’s why he’s looking at you. You glance at him again, meeting his eyes again, despite the nerves, and he looks like he’s going to say something, he’s smiling, he’s opening his mouth, he’s - 

“Hey sugar, you got a boyfriend?” You and the stranger immediately break eye contact and instead turn to the source of the interruption. The bartender, oblivious to the conversation you both were about to start, is again, staring you up and down. You shudder in response, crossing your arms over yourself in an attempt to conceal your body from his leering gaze. 

“Um, well, I actually…” You don’t know what to say, his eyes are making you nervous, very much not in a good way. You were caught off guard, normally you would be able to form some response along the lines of ‘fuck off, pervert’ but your confidence has failed you. 

“That’s none of your business. Leave her alone.” The man replies properly for you, a welcome saving grace, with . He adjusts his position as he stands slightly straighter, taller, over the bartender, and you breathe a sigh of relief. While you shouldn’t need another man to stick up for you, you know creeps always listen to them more anyway. The bartender just shrugs and says, “Whatever, man,” and turns away. 

“Sorry about that,” he says to you, and before he can get out the rest of the apology, you interrupt, “oh no, thank you. He’s been like that the whole night. Thanks.” He shakes his head again, the annoyed expression still present. 

“You shouldn’t thank me. You shouldn’t have to deal with that.” 

“But you didn’t have to do that. Thank you.” You smile up at him, a proper one, and he drops the annoyed look when he sees it. He really is handsome, with his strong jaw and dark curls, and he’s looking at you with a hint of amusement in his eye. You like him. You hope he likes you too. 

He laughs, shaking his head again, relaxing his stance and goes back to sitting on the stool next to you. And when he smiles, he smiles big, his whole face lights up. 

“I’m Bellamy.” Bellamy. You think you may have heard his name before, in passing, a stranger that you heard people whisper about. Bellamy. You like it more than you should. 

“I’m Y/n.” 

“You got any plans this evening?” 

“I was just going to go home but, I’m open.” He nods at your response. He hasn’t stopped looking at you. 

Bellamy moves slightly closer, his head bent towards you so you can hear him better in the loud room. Your eyes widen a bit when he does, because now you can see him up close. 

“Wanna get out of here and get some food? I hate bars.” You nod too eagerly, but you don’t care. He laughs in response, and by the fond look in his eyes you are certain now that he likes you. 

Bellamy downs his drink and you just leave yours, as he slips his large hand into your palm and pulls you towards the door. He keeps you close as he works his way through the crowd, looking behind him to make sure you’re still there. As you're about to head out the door, you catch sight of your friend with another girl, dark haired and gorgeous, both grinning wickedly at you. She gives you the thumbs up and a wink, and you smile back. 

The evening was finally looking up. You take a deep breath of fresh air when you make it outside, not letting go of Bellamy’s hand. 

You can’t keep the smile off your face.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy imagine #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake fanfic

[bellarkeselection]

The earlier seasons of The 100 were the best 👌 ❤️

Bellamy Blake requests if anyone has any

#the 100 #the 100 season 1 #the 100 season 2 #bellamy blake x reader one shots #bellamy blake x kane reader #bellamy blake imagine #the 100 bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake fluff #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake images #bellamy blake one shot #the 100 rewatch

[damn-stark]

Aftersun

Bellamy Blake x Grounder!femreader

Summary- A man from the stars and a closed off Azgeda assassin with the heart of gold. Life on earth has always been ruthless, there’s never been a chance to look up at the stars that shine above and just daydream. It’s always been kill or be killed, that’s the rule to survive. Albeit what happens you run across a man from the stars? A single man from Skaikru named Bellamy Blake? Will he show you how to live and love for the first time, or will he be someone else you have to kill?

Season 3

#fanfiction #damn-stark #Aftersun #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 fanfic #Bellamy Blake x fem!reader #Bellamy Blake x grounder!femreader #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake #the 100 bellamy blake #bellamy blake x y/n #Octavia blake #Clark griffin #Monty green #azgeda #fanfic series

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

bioluminescence | b. blake

masterlist

summary: season one — you thought all bellamy blake wanted was sex and other women, but when you sneak outside of the camp walls at night, bioluminescent plants are not the only shocking discovery you make, and not everyone is happy about it.

warnings: fluff, swearing, jealousy, mention of sexual themes, (L/N) use, roma

pairing: bellamy blake x reader

word count: 4.1k

Sleep was a rare luxury after you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to Earth, especially since you were all crowded in a small camp surrounding the drop ship. Teenage hormones, anger, violence, and trauma were not a great combination for peace. So, it was either crying, fistfights, or the incessant moans of couples who couldn't keep it in their pants for more than five minutes that usually kept you awake at night.

You were certain it was Bellamy Blake and his two model-looking female companions who were often to blame for that last subject. Although to everyone in the camp, it was very obvious that their relationship was solely physical, neither Roma nor Bree seemed to appreciate when other women talked, interacted with, or even sat near him. Clarke was a heavy target because of her co-leadership with Bellamy. And so were you.

You were within the inner circle, the informal 'Earth council'. You were also handy with a rifle and knowledgeable in tracking, so it wasn't exactly surprising whenever Bellamy took you with him on various missions and hunts. Sometimes though, he would bring you with him even if the task wasn't within your skillset—those were the times you were left feeling a little confused.

Nevertheless, a small friendship sprung from it. You weren't best buddies, but you weren't opposed to each other's company either. That was a big no-no to Roma and Bree and they frequently expressed that fact through passive-aggressive tactics.

This night was no different from others. Thankfully, it was the never-ending fistfights that kept you awake instead of other's carnal endeavours. You opened the flap of your tent and stepped out into the crisp air; autumn was definitely approaching. Hugging your jacket closer to your body, you looked around the camp, unsure of where to wait out the commotion. Everywhere was taken, so you decided a brief walk in the woods wouldn't hurt. Well, you hoped it wouldn't. At least if the Grounders killed you, you would finally get some undisturbed rest.

As you made your way over to one of the fence-wall openings, you ran smack-bang into a barely dressed girl with long brown hair. Roma.

"Watch where you're going, bitch," she spat, scrutinising your appearance from top to bottom.

Ignoring her lovely remark, you eyed her jeans and the way her upper half was only covered by a grey sports bra. "Aren't you cold?"

"Not now I'm not." She smirked, eyes flickering to Bellamy's tent.

You grimaced. I so didn't need to know that.

Right on cue, Bellamy emerged from his tent, fully clothed. He scanned the surroundings before his hardened gaze briefly landed on Roma and then settled on you; it was impossible to miss the way his face softened when your eyes met. Strange.

"Jealous?" she asked, regaining your attention.

"Unlikely."

You brushed past her, though she made an effort to forcefully knock your shoulder and spit another curse at you. Classy.

Bellamy took a step toward you. "Hey—"

But you simply moved past him, continuing toward the wall and saying, "A real gem you've got yourself there."

At least Bree was all bark and no bite.

You could hear him sigh as the distance between you both grew.

Truth be told, you were a little jealous. An unfortunate truth but still a truth all the same. You knew you were beginning to feel something deeper for Bellamy and it was becoming difficult listening to other girls brag about their nights with him. Not like you would ever tell him though—he wasn't a relationship type of guy and as far as you could tell, his feelings for you were platonic.

Never mind. You could settle for his friendship... for now.

You had made it outside the camp walls. At first, you planned on circling the fence for a while, but when your eyes caught on something glowing from the opposite side of a tree, you strayed from your path. Rounding the tree's trunk, you found a glowing neon-pink flower; the species of which you were unsure, but it was beautiful. Then, in your peripheral vision, there was something else lighting up your vision, something blue this time. There was another flower just a few trees away.

And again, you walked over to the strange plant, only to find yourself now on a journey that kept leading to more and more glowing flowers the deeper into the woods you trekked. They were almost everywhere and at this point, you were practically running with an excited grin on your face. In the near distance, numerous radiant colours lit up an area covered by a thick cluster of trees. You wove yourself through branches and leaves, pushing your way into the bright section of the woods.

Once you emerged from the trees, amazement morphed into your expression. You had stepped into a small meadow filled with glowing flowers of various colours that covered the forest floor. There were countless species, but they all shared the same mesmerising radiance. Much to your disbelief, there were even electric blue luminous butterflies that concealed the tree trunks and fluttered in the air.

"Bioluminescence," you whispered to yourself.

It was so beautiful, you could have cried.

Maybe you should just leave the camp and build a hut here. It would certainly beat living with the others.

As you moved further into the small clearing, the butterflies flew closer around you. Holding out an arm, one butterfly tentatively circled your hand before landing in your palm. You laughed in amazement, watching as the small creature curiously crawled across your hand and ticked your skin. Okay, that settled it—you were definitely a Disney princess.

The sound of branches snapping and leaves rustling suddenly pulled you from your amazement; it was coming from where you had entered the clearing. You reached down to your belt only to find the knife holster on it empty. Of course, you didn't bring your knife. You had left the camp's safety and didn't even think to bring a weapon. So stupid.

Before you could reprimand yourself any further, a tall figure emerged from the tree line. The tight dark blue shirt was an easy identifier as to who the figure was. And so were those deep brown eyes.

It was Bellamy. "Woah."

You let out a sigh of relief, feeling your tensed body relax again.

His gaze swept across the vivid tree-encompassed meadow, sharing the same wonderous expression you once had. The overpowering glow from the butterflies turned his tanned skin a light blue, defining the contours of his face and arm muscles. He sort of looked otherworldly.

"What are you doing out here?" you asked.

The incident before you left camp quickly returned to mind and it was evident in the slight irritation etched on your face. He didn't need to respond for you to realise that he had followed you. Great. His little girlfriends were going to have a field day tomorrow if they saw him come after you.

Bellamy's eyes found yours, taking note of your negative reaction. His steps were cautious as he began walking towards you. "I could ask you the same thing."

He stopped in front of you, peering down through a few stray strands of dark brown hair whilst wearing his infamous lazy smirk. No wonder girls were always fawning over him; he was gorgeous, and he damn well knew it too. Even you were falling into the very same trap. Unlike them, though, it was the moments you shared with him when you were alone that conjured your attraction to him. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you had also learnt that he was surprisingly a decent human being. More than decent actually, despite how he presented himself to others.

He treated you with respect—a lot more than many others had ever done. You had learnt to trust each other, communicate effectively, and work as a team. Sometimes, you would even find yourselves discussing things that you both intended to keep within till the day you died, things that felt too intimate to share with anyone else.

No matter how much you hated it, you couldn't help but develop feelings for him. Even when it seemed he was preoccupied with other women.

Bellamy eyed you, waiting for the snarky retort he knew you were putting together.

You sighed and turned around, crouching on the floor to inspect one of the neon-pink flowers. "Shouldn't you be teaching Roma and Bree gun handling safety in your tent right now?"

That line was dangerously close to sounding like jealousy and you knew it. You bit your tongue because Lord knows you were most likely to expose your feelings for Bellamy through word vomit.

If only you had been facing him to witness the shame washing through his eyes.

"Funny," he said. "But no. I've got more important things to do."

"Like what? Making sure your best hunting partner doesn't get killed by glowing plants?" you joked, glancing over your shoulder to see his reaction.

It wasn't a grin or smirk like you expected. Not even a little chuckle. Instead, he simply stared at you with this intense look in his eye; it was almost sad but also like he was trying to communicate something to you telepathically.

"Something like that," he murmured.

After those words left his mouth, something about the atmosphere shifted. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with emotion and his soul-piercing stare was not helping. There wasn't a wide selection of movies on the Ark, but you had watched them all, including all the romance movies. The only thing you could compare Bellamy's gaze to was Mr. Darcy's in Pride and Prejudice. Reluctance. Longing. It was all there. Had you been completely wrong about his feelings for you? Or were you just imagining it?

The likelihood of Bellamy sharing your same feelings seemed impossible, so you chalked it up to your wishful imagination.

You stood back up, facing him but avoiding making eye contact. "Well, I—uh," you stammered. "I'm not going back. Not yet."

"I didn't come here to take you back."

That made your gaze meet his.

Why did you come then, Bellamy? you thought.

He side-stepped you and you turned to see him wandering deeper into the meadow. He began observing each and every beauty and oddity the small sanctuary held, touching the petals of every flower with a delicateness you had never witnessed before. Soon enough, you felt compelled to join him.

The two of you must have spent an hour in that meadow, inspecting each species of flora, hovering your fingertips through the glowing cusp of each plant as if you could feel its light on your skin, laughing together when a butterfly landed on the tip of your nose. Sometimes you caught Bellamy watching whenever your face lit up with excitement as you discovered something new. He never really looked at what you had found; he just looked at you, but you were too overjoyed to even contemplate why.

You felt like you had entered a dream, protected from the outside world where there were Grounders, war, and bitchy brown-haired girls. Everything real was forgotten, even your unrequited feelings for Bellamy. You just enjoyed his company in this dream and pretended it would last forever.

Somehow, you had both ended up lying on the forest floor side-by-side, surrounded by flowers as you stared up at the starry night sky through the tree crowns. It wasn't as cold as before; you guessed it was because of Bellamy's close proximity to you. One of his hands was behind his head, the other on his stomach. His warmth was radiating off his skin and onto your own.

You could have fallen asleep if you closed your eyes. Probably not the most logical idea though.

Bellamy's quiet, yet deep voice disrupted the silence. "It's just a distraction, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Those girls," he clarified, and you watched as his words turned to mist, carrying into the black sky. "If I focus too much on the fact that I have to control an entire camp of teenagers, fight a war against the Grounders, while taking care of Octavia and y—" he cut himself off, closing his eyes with a sigh. "I just feel like I start to lose myself."

Your focus shifted from the sky to him. Even he didn't seem to be looking at the sky anymore, despite his gaze still being pointed straight upward. He looked lost in his own thoughts. Serious and sombre—much different compared to how they had been just a short while ago.

"Well," you began softly. "We can't have that. You already seem a little rough around the edges, Blake."

A grin slowly formed across his lips and he shook his head. He turned his head to the side, looking down at your smiling expression from where he lay. The weightiness from before had melted from his demeanour. Because of a little distraction.

You had thought those two girls he spent most nights with were there purely for his own physical needs or because his attraction to them was greater than his self-control. Never had you contemplated the fact that it might have been because he was mentally struggling with the hardships of being a leader. Of course, how could you have? He had never told you before now.

Your brows furrowed. "Why tell me?"

The muscles in his jaw clenched and the grin fell from his lips. A sense of seriousness returned but this time it was less heavy. It seemed more like a weight was lifting from his shoulders. Like a declaration. Like a long-awaited confession.

You felt something warm brush against your hand; it gently grazed over your knuckles, lighting a fire beneath your skin. In Bellamy's dark eyes, you could see the reflection of his hand caressing your own and your heart leapt to your throat.

"Why do you think?" he murmured, his eyes flickering between your own, urging you to connect the dots instead of making him say it aloud.

Your lips parted and the crease between your eyebrows deepened. 

Every time he picked you first to be his partner on a mission, every deep conversation you shared when no one else was around—they all had a hidden meaning. All the times his hand brushed against yours as you walked in sync side-by-side, the times you caught him staring at you through a one-hundred-person dense crowd, or the way he would step in front of you as if to shield you whenever there was even a hint of danger—it was all because...

"Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah." His eyes flickered between yours before he turned back to the stars. "And I—I understand if you don't feel the same way; I know I haven't given you much reason to. From those girls to the... the radio, and the culling on the Ark. If I could take—"

His sentence was cut short as you leaned over him, pressing your lips to his. You could feel his pulse racing in his lips. Or was it your own? Probably both. Your hair fell to the side and his mouth started to move against your own. He began to rise, moving you up along with him until you were both kissing in a sitting position.

Bellamy's hand moved to cradle your jaw, his lips slow and tender. Everything felt like it had fallen into place, like this was exactly how things were supposed to be, with his lips on yours in the middle of a fairy-tale-like meadow whilst surrounded by a field of glowing flowers and beautiful winged creatures.

The butterflies weren't just circling you now, they were somehow fluttering around in your stomach too and it felt exhilarating.

Unfortunately, the kiss did have to come to an end at some point. Even so, the warm fluttering in your stomach never ceased. Bellamy had pulled away first, his hands gently falling from your jaw and back into his lap. He was looking at you and at first, you were afraid he would get up and leave, or tell you he had changed his mind. But he didn't. A smile crept across his lips—not a self-satisfied smirk or a tantalising grin, but a genuine smile.

Forget the butterflies; your stomach was doing somersaults now. He found your hand once more and interlocked it with his own in your lap. His thumb drew small circles on the side of your palm almost as if he knew you needed a reminder that this moment was really happening.

"That was my first kiss," you admitted.

His smile became a little nervous. "Was it okay?"

Was it okay? This boy was a little clueless if he couldn't tell that you thoroughly enjoyed having his lips on yours. So, you answered him with another soft peck to his lips, then pulled back again to see his reaction. He chuckled, nodding his head to say he understood.

"We can always come out here to practice if you want," he said, this time with a smirk.

You laughed. "I think that's a good idea."

He tucked a lock behind your ear and gently brushed pieces of hair away from your face. You could feel warmth creeping into your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. Well, it was probably more of a violet hue due to the intense blue glow from the plants and butterflies. Either way, it still revealed how nervous he made you feel.

"It's getting late. We should probably head back and sleep," you said. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, creating his own little innuendo with your words and your eyes widened. "Not together! Alone, I mean. In separate tents. With clothes... on..." you trailed off, realising you were only digging yourself a deeper hole.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in embarrassment.

He just chuckled and rose to his feet. "Come on, (L/N). Let's go sleep."

You rolled your eyes with a smile as he helped you stand up with him.

For a brief moment, you gave the area one last look, imprinting the memory into your mind. Who could have guessed that when you left the camp walls you would enter a fairy tale of vivid colours and electric butterflies? Or, even more surprising, that Bellamy Blake would later confess his feelings for you? All you had wanted was an escape; instead, you got a dream come true.

Bellamy pressed a hand to your lower back, guiding you with him towards the tree line in comfortable silence.

The walk back to the drop ship was pretty quiet. No more words needed to be said; a conversation that clarified what you two were now could wait for tomorrow when your brains weren't clouded by fatigue and the fresh excitement from confession. Some things hadn't changed though. Bellamy still stole glances at you every now and then, as you did him, earning a nervous smile and blush each time either of you got caught. Your hands alternated from brushing against one another to ever-so-slightly linking pinkies.

Okay, maybe things had changed a little.

You passed each flower that had led you to the meadow and this time, they became less and less as you grew closer to the drop ship. As you came up on the camp walls, the sound of fighting and conversations had died down and was replaced by the faint crackling of dying fires.

Finally, you both stepped through one of the openings and were within the camp. There didn't seem to be anyone awake; with the way the moon was shining down straight overhead, it was clear why. 

Your pinkie fell from Bellamy's and you moved in front of him, taking a few slow steps backwards. "Uh, that's my tent over there," you said, gesturing behind you.

His eyes never left yours as he continued to walk toward you. "Yeah, I know."

"Oh, you know, do you?"

A grin stretched across his lips as he hummed and reached for your waist, pulling you against his body. Your hands wound around his neck, a smile present on your face as he leaned in, his lips mere inches from your own. His lips had just brushed against your own when someone behind you cleared their throat and you both jumped apart.

Bellamy peered beside your head, semi-glaring at the interrupter behind you.

What a surprise it was when you turned around to see Roma, arms crossed—clothes on, thankfully—and looking severely unhappy.

"You have got to be kidding me," she said with a scowl.

Perfect. Great. Absolutely fantastic. Looks like her field day had come early.

No way. You were too tired to deal with this. You gave Bellamy an apologetic glance before attempting to slip away through the gaps between tents. Unfortunately, it wasn't in Roma's best interest to let you off so easily. She caught your wrist and jerked you back toward her.

Bellamy looked like he was about to step in, but you beat him to it.

You tore your wrist from her grasp, words dripping with bitterness as you said, "Never do that again."

For a split second, she looked the slightest bit intimidated, but then quickly covered it up with disdain. Her gaze flickered from you to Bellamy; it was hard to miss the way she straightened her posture and tried to look more presentable for him.

And for a split second of your own, you felt the slightest twinge of fear that Bellamy would change his mind about you and leave with her again. But at that very same moment, he gently grabbed your hand and guided you back to his side, dissipating all your previous worries.

Both you and Roma looked down at your interlocked hands in disbelief.

"Listen, Roma." He sighed, sounding like he was desperately trying to keep his cool. "I think it's best if you and Bree find another tent to sleep in from now on."

Her disbelief turned into pure astonishment. "What? Are you serious?"

Bellamy lightly squeezed your hand.

God, he was putting this girl through the five stages of grief. You almost felt bad. Then you remembered the daily torment she had been putting you through just for existing and the remorse immediately washed away.

"Because of her? She's not even—"

"Choose your next words very carefully," he warned in a dangerously low voice.

Her mouth opened and shut a few times before she realised any insult thrown at you would end badly for her. It's not like Bellamy would hurt her, but he did have power over the camp, so he would probably force her to share a tent with Myles or something. His non-stop babbling would drive her to insanity.

She gave him a defiant look. "What if we don't want to leave?"

"I'll take the tent down and move it somewhere else."

"Then Bree and I will make both your lives a living Hell."

You could hear Bellamy suppress a laugh. "Unlikely," he echoed your previous words.

Roma looked to you as if you could help her case—the audacity. You gave her a sarcastic 'what-can-you-do?' shrug which just enhanced her seething temper. It was obvious that she was getting nowhere and the moment she realised, you swore you could see her ego literally deflating.

She made a short high-pitched noise of frustration and spun around, her hair whipping melodramatically through the air as she practically stomped back to Bellamy's tent. You could hear her call out to the other girl inside, telling her to 'pack her shit' and that they were moving tents. Not long after, the blonde-haired girl emerged from the tent flap holding a bundle of clothes. Roma must have explained to her what happened because they both shot a venomous glare in your direction and then walked off in search of another tent.

You sighed in relief as they disappeared out of sight. You were about to walk back to your own tent, but Bellamy tugged you back to him once more, his arms wrapping around your torso as your hands fell on his chest.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought she'd handle it better."

You fiddled with the material of his shirt, half-smiling. "I told you she was a gem."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "My taste of women has been a little... questionable."

Your hands moved up to his shoulders, pulling your body up against his. His fingertips grazed the exposed skin of your waist, sending a wave of goosebumps across your body.

"You should really try breaking that trend."

He had that same intense look in his eye as when you were both in the meadow. This time it didn't hold any sadness or longing, but rather a sense of finality and affection, like his greatest wish had finally come true—that would make two of you. One of his hands moved to cup your cheek, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as his face grew closer to yours.

The heart thumping in your chest almost gave out as you reflexively leaned further into his warm embrace.

"I already have," he murmured before his soft lips descended upon yours.

And the butterflies returned.

#yes roma is a warning #wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️ #bellamy blake fanfiction #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake #bellamy x clarke #bellarke #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x reader #bellamyblake #the100edit #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bob morley smut #bob morley #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x y/n

[notelcol]

In The Haze 🌪️

A classic Bellamy Blake x Kane!reader acid fog story….with a head cannon included as a twist ✨

TW- cannon divergence, mentions of assault/manipulation, gore?

——-

The silence of the hunting group made the trees seem louder, each gust of wind causing heads to whip around. Your feet no longer crunched on the forest floor like they had when you first arrived to the ground mere weeks ago. You looked to your ‘leader’, seriously doubting his decision to leave the safety of camp with all the current looming threats from the grounders. When you saw his determined expression, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was the only one of the group who didn’t look afraid, and that made him a fool.

“Over there!” Sterling whisper-shouted, pointing to a deer in the distance. Bellamy nodded and as usual, took the lead and aimed his knife. You decided to take in the scenery instead of watching another of his power plays. That was when you saw it. A murder of at least one hundred crows, frantically fleeing across the sky. You didn’t want to know what they were so afraid of. Unfortunately, on the ground it’s not possible to close your eyes to the dangers.

“ACID FOGGG!!!” Munroe yelled. Your eyes widened as you watched the group run off in different directions. You didn’t know which way the nearest shelter was and found yourself spinning in circles. The fog moved closer, faster than you could think. Until a hand grabbed yours.

“Come on!” Bellamy’s gruff voice ushered you away from green cloud. The two of you ran, hand in hand, faster than you ever had before. The forest became a muddy green blur around you.

“There’s a cave by those rocks up there.” He called over his shoulder. You focused your eyes on the shining wet rocks, trying not to think of the encroaching fog. You felt a tug on your neck as you brushed past a tree, on instinct you looked back.

When you saw what had happened, you dropped your hand from Bellamy’s and started to run back. You would rather die in the fog than lose this necklace.

You ignored Bellamy’s calls and moved faster towards the fog, heart almost stopping when you saw it about to make contact your most precious possession. You desperately lunged your hand forward, praying that you’d reach it before the fog did. You could almost feel the chain when you were harshly pulled away. Your hope shattered as you watched the fog engulf your necklace. You still fought Bellamy’s grip for a moment, unable to accept it. You fought until the burning agony of reality seared itself into the arm still stretched out in lost hope.

Finally, you gave in and allowed Bellamy to drag you out of the fog that had begun to swallow you whole.

“What the hell was that?!” He spat as he pushed you into the cave. “You nearly got us both killed over a necklace!” He rubbed his temped as he spoke. “It’s metal! The fog isn’t gunna damage it.” He began to lecture.

“It’s not just a necklace!” You growled, jaw clenching in the pain of your burnt arm. “There was a lock of my mothers hair in there. The fog just turned the last piece of her to dust.” Your voice cracked. For the first time, you noticed Bellamy Blake looking at you as something other than one of the privileged. Running a hand through his curled hair, he sighed.

“I have water in my bag. Let me help you.” Gesturing to your now weeping arm.

Sweat rolled down your back as he peeled off the remnants of your sleeve. You watched his brows furrow in concern at every shudder and wince.

“Why are you helping me?” You asked weakly. “I thought you’d say I deserve this, since my dad floated your mom and all.” You stared at the dripping cave roof.

“I think I’m learning to accept that you can’t judge someone by the sins of their father.” He spoke sadly. You flicked your gaze back to him, watching him curiously. He took a deep breath before meeting your eyes.

“I found out something recently.” His breath hitched and his hands faltered as they worked on your arm. “Commander Shumway is my father.” He released a breath, one that felt as though it was the first since he found out. “She met him just after he became a cadet. He caught her stealing medicine for her father. Told her he would let her off, if she did him a ‘favour’. Nine months later, there I was. But he didn’t care. Instead he held everything against her and once Octavia was born…well he had the ultimate leverage then didn’t he? Then all these years later he tells me the truth, but for his own ends!” You barely felt him tip the water on your arm, as you were listening intently to his tale. “He tells me that he got Octavia into the dropship. He told me if I killed the chancellor, he could use the chaos to get me on the ship with her. I fell for it like a fool.” He wrapped your arm in some torn cloth as he continued. “As soon as I was on the ship, he ratted me out.” Bitterness etched upon his face. “So yeah, I can understand not wanting to make the same mistakes as your shitty father.” His mask returned in an instant with his signature smirk, as he dropped your now cleaned and wrapped arm.

“Thanks.” You gestured to your arm. “For the record, you might be an egotistical dick sometimes, but you’re good. You aren’t like him.” You sent Bellamy a small smile, which he returned while bringing his eyes to meet yours once more.

“You too Kane.” He spoke softly before leaning back against the cave wall and closing his eyes.

“We should rest until the fog clears. We still have to hunt.” His voice had retreated to its usual tone. As you leaned your head against the rocky cave wall you realised that somewhere in the haze, you and Bellamy Blake had seen each other for the first time. Even if just for a second.

——-

Thank you for reading 🫶

#cw the 100 #the 100 #the hundred #cw the hundred #bellamy blake #bellamy blake x reader #Bellamy blame x yn #bellamy x reader #octavia blake #Octavia #cannon divergence #headcanon #injury #x reader #writing #angst #bellamy blake x y/n #the 100 x reader #the hundred x reader #grounders #Trikru #acid fog #post apocalyptic #cw

[slytherintrikru]

| 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗦𝗹𝘆𝗿𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗧𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗿𝘂 |

ꜱʟʏᴛʜᴇʀᴅᴏʀ • ᴇᴅɪᴛᴏʀ • ꜱʜᴇ/ʜᴇʀ

ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ • ɪɴᴛᴘ-ᴛ

☼ - ♈︎ • ☾ - ♈︎ • ↑ - ♎︎

“ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ,” ꜱᴀɪᴅ ꜱɴᴀᴘᴇ.

#pro severus #severus x reader #severus x y/n #pro severus snape #severus snape #severus x oc #lucius malfoy #lucius malfoy x you #lucius malfoy smut #severus snape smut #the 100 #bellamy blake #octavia blake #finn collins #bellamy blake smut #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #lucius malfoy fanfiction #professor snape #snape #anti marauders #anti james potter #malfoyfamily #harry potter #hp #hp fandom #hp fanfic #after all this time

[xnix07]

Nuevo fic !

«Lily Johnson, que nació en la Tierra hace más de 200 años, fue criogenizada y despertada en el 2249.

Ahora tendrá que hacer frente a un mundo totalmente nuevo, tanto así como antiguo y familiar, con el resto de Los 100.»

OC X Bellamy blake

S1 –> S7

Wattpad: LILIUM | THE 100

Usuario: xnix07

Idioma: español

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake smut #bellamy x you #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy x reader #the 100 fanfiction #the100 #los100 #los 100 fanfiction #los 100 fanfic #the100fanfic #bellamy #commander lexa #lexa kom trikru #clarke griffin #clexa #octavia #lincoln kom trikru #octavia blake #raven reyes #monty green #jasper jordan #john murphy

[countrymusiclover]

Thanks to the people who responded to my poll about a new 100 book. The new book is a Marcus Kane x daughter Oc. The first chapter has been posted

I Choose Survival - Bellamy Blake

#i choose survival #bellamy blake x y/n #bellamy blake x kane reader #bellamy blake x oc #bellamy blake x reader fanfiction #bellamy blake x reader #marcus kane x daughter reader #marcus kane #the 100 x reader #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 masterlist #the 100 fic #the 100 bellamy blake #the 100

[bl00dsab]

Draft #1, from my old account and it’s about the 100

not edited

was going to be bellamy x oc

The journey done to earth was nothing short of terrifying. Cassandra wasn’t sure how long they had been falling towards the floating rock. It felt like hours and seconds at the same time. They had already hit the atmosphere which indicated they would soon crash to the ground. And they did.

Cassandra jumped forward in her seat from the impact of the crash landing. To say it was a smooth ride would be an understatement. Luckily for her she didn’t get hurt from the journey- unfortunately she couldn’t say the same for the three boys for decided to test out the gravity.

Silence was all that filled the drop ship. For once in their apparent insignificant lives the delinquents heard true and proper silence. There was no hum of the machines that kept the ark working and floating in space, and for that she was greatful. Apparently so was Monty, who Cassandra hasn’t properly seen for many years.

“Listen. No machine hum.” A boys voice, who she faintly recognised as Monty, acknowledged out loud and was followed by another voice belonging to Jasper. “Whoa. That’s a first.”

As soon as the delinquents were alerted that the door was on the lower level they all raced down there. Cassandra’s belt was a little stiff so it took awhile for her to manage to get it undone which meant she was stuck at the back of the crowd on the lower level.

Seeing as no one else had to follow her down she decided no one would mind if she stood on the ladder. From the height advantage she could see a dark haired boy and a blonde girl looking as if they were arguing. It was only when she heard the blondes voice that she recognised her as Clarke.

Clarke and Cassandra had never been the bestest of friends but seeing as they both grew up in Alpha station it meant they had ran into each other plenty of times. If she had to put a label on them then they’d be acquaintances.

Cassandra also faintly recognised the boy who was stood by the leaver. He was wearing a guards uniform and she knew that sooner or later he would try to take charge of all the delinquents- it was just a matter of when. She had seen him before, on the Ark. He was Bellamy Blake, brother to Octavia Blake the illegal child. Cass thought it was wrong that Octavia was locked up for being born; it’s not like she had a choice.

Broken out of her thoughts by the noise of the drop ship door opening, she was shocked as she felt real air surround her. The sun blarred into her eyes causing her to bring a hand up to shelter her eyes slightly but after readjusting them she could see earth. The ground. It was everybody’s dream, but more specifically, Cassandra’s actual dreams.

All it took for the delinquents to escape the drop ship was a shout from Octavia Blake. A shout that would mark the true beginning of their lives. “We’re back bitches!”

————

Colours. That’s all Cassandra could think about. All the different colours around her- the leaves, the grass and oh god the flowers. She had seen pictures of some in books but she’d never seen one in real life. The ark was always so dull and grey so all the sudden different and bright colours nearly gave her a headache. Although that could have just been from the beaming sun but she wouldn’t mind, the warmth of it felt nice on her face.

Cassandra really hadn’t realised how far and long she had wondered but by the time she got back there was a small group of delinquents with Clarke at the centre of it.

When the group of five started walking off, Cass made her way over to the Blake boy who stood watching his sister walk away into the woods that held such darkness. She soon stopped by his side watching the group get further and further away. Wanting to keep a low profile she didn’t introduce herself, just asked what she wanted to know. “Where are they going?”

It seemed Bellamy hadn’t known she was next to him until she spoke to him. Slightly surprised by the sudden presence his head whipped around to look at her, but her eyes stayed forward. He had seen her before; one of the privileged. His lip curled slightly in disgust. “Mount Weather to get food, you should be with them.”

Now it was her turn to be surprised. Why should she be with them? She spoke in a soft voice but you could clearly hear the confusion in it. “Why?”

“Because you’re one of the privileged.” And with that the freckled boy left her standing there alone.

“How rude.”

————

Having nothing to do in ‘camp’, Cass thought it’d be a good idea to venture out again. When she was younger she had to be careful so she’d never be able to go on ‘dangerous’ adventures by herself but now she was, she found herself enjoying her own company. It was weird. She hated being by herself in her cell but now she was free and by herself- there was a difference. Of course the Hearst girl had once had a cell mate but she, Holly, was floated.

A branch snapped behind her which made her freeze. Had someone followed her? Her heart started beating faster at the thought of getting hurt but not from the pain- from the consequences of knowledge being spilled. Deciding to face her attacker she spun on her heels. Relief and then awe washed over her at the sight before it. It was... a fox? She wasn’t too sure but she swore she had seen it in a book before. It looked normal; like no radiation had affected it. It had the most beautiful golden red fur she had ever payed her eyes upon. The creature didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the girl who was still froze in her spot. She was glad when it ran off as she wasn’t sure if they were the vicious type.

It was beginning to get dark which meant the safest option for Cassandra was to return back to the safety of camp. By the time she got there it was pitch dark but she could hear some sort of celebrations going on. There was lots of cheering but Cass was too tired to find out what everybody was so happy about.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake x oc #Bellamy Blake x reader #Bellamy Blake x yn #Bellamy Blake x y/n #the 100 #the100 #the hundred #thehundred #bellamy Blake oneshot #Bellamy Blake imagine #bellamy blake fanfiction #Bellamy Blake fanfic