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ilguna · 1 year

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☼ 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

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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.”

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leclercstarrs · 9 months

Text

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

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s1ater · 9 months

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i do what i have to do.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

part two of two.

about. in which you point your gun at someone you never thought you’d point it at.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. look who finally finished a year old one shot/fic/whatever you call it 🤗🤗

bellamy coudn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. so, when mumbling the words, ‘move or i’ll kill you’, you could see right through his bluff by the way his eyes so willingly betrayed him, filled with... hurt.

in all truth, bellamy believed you would have shot him if it would have come down to that, and maybe that’s what pained him most. he wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you would have, but only for the best interest and safety of arkadia and your friends.

you never wanted to hurt bellamy, but recently you really, really wanted to slap him upside the head for all the stupid shit he had been doing. and maybe a gun scare would knock some sense into him, or maybe it would only put him deeper into the hole pike was digging for him.

bellamy yanked you to your feet quickly after the two of you had seemed to have recovered from all the commotion that had just taken place. you weren't sure whether or not he wanted to get you away from the increase in rowdy crowd or to have his way with you first.

you were beginning to think it was the last option as he marched down the hall with you in front of him, gripping your left arm while the other pressed against your back. one, two, three, four more steps before he shoved you into one of the guards rooms, his room.

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he let go of your arm with a slight shove causing you to stumble forward a bit. he looked angry, more than you had ever seen him and more than you would have ever wished to see.

“bellamy, don’t start with me,” you mumbled, raising a finger to harshly accuse him... for something. “if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

he scoffed, looking beyond dumbfounded with his mouth slight agape, not believing the words that had just came from your mouth.

“stop fucking talking,” he needed to think. he begun to pace back and forth, and you had no idea what to do with yourself as you watched him. “i need to get you out of here.”

"what?"

he gives you a dumbfounded look that was filled with a sense of urgency, "y/n, you just shot someone that can have you dead within seconds. you don't leave, someone’s going to do exactly what you did, and take justice into their own hands."

"you should have let me finish the job."

"we're not starting this," he grips your shoulder before pushing you by your upper back. "people are leaving. o, kane, miller—you go with them. you stay, they'll kill you."

"how do you know this?" you mumbled, glancing back at the mention of your friends and the planned escape you all had developed. bellamy was considered a traitor to you all, so he would be the last person on your list to concern with the escape plan.

"eyes everywhere."

you narrow your brows at him, "you're coming with."

he narrows his brows in shock, not expecting you to say this, you share the same expression, also shocked by yourself. the past month would explain this--not only had you watched your world at arkadia fastly crumble after the slow rebuild of humanity, you also witnessed your relationship with bellamy slowly tank moment after moment while his with pike was created.

so, offering passage was an absurd idea. after all the betrayal.

he seems to wince after his surprisal settles but is quick to keep a straight face as best as he can, "you're getting the wrong idea."

"am i?"

"we're not friends anymore, y/n. this isn't old times," his words are intentionally stinging, but you don't miss the look on his face that betrays him. "you can't save me if that’s what you’re thinking. I don't need to be saved, i know what i’m doing."

you frown, "bellamy, you need to stop acting like there's never going to be a happy ending for you before it comes true. leave with us."

"you know i can't do that."

"why not?"

"I dug myself in too deep this time," his face was still stone cold, but it didn't prevent remorse from blossoming in your chest. "maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot, this would be all over."

***

in well under an hour bellamy had you out of arkadia, alone. your friends had left a lot sooner than thought and no matter how much begging you did—expectedly—bellamy left his mind unchanged.

you knew exactly where your friends were going—where they’d be. it was a long and lonely hike but it was enough time for reflection.

you miss the time where you felt like a kid still. where you were young and reckless and full of hope that you’d finally get to be free upon that first step off the drop ship. that you had purpose and will and fighting was something you hadn’t really minded aside from the possible side affect of death.

now you were tired. you just wanted to lay your head down for once and not think about the pointless rivalry purging your everyday life.

“y/n, you’re okay,” octavia pulls you into a tight hug, a certain relief setting over. “god, after we hadn’t seen you, we assumed the worst.”

“i’m okay,” you gave her a thin-lipped smile, “thanks to your brother.”

“bellamy?” she seems shocked, like that’s the first courteous thing he’s done for someone in years.

“yes,” you nod, understanding the hostile tone she almost takes with his name. “i think he might’ve saved me.”

“where is bellamy?” miller speaks causing you to realize they had all emerged from the cave.

"he's gone."

"dead?"

"no,” you shake your head, “he stayed behind. he said he had to fix some thing’s before he showed his face again.”

octavia mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her composure as she watched you, “you’re here. that’s all that matters.”

***

“is he dead?”

“indra has him.”

“bellamy-“

“y/n,” he gives you a pointed look at your protest. “you know that’s as good as dead.”

he was right. pike killed her people, that was far from unforgivable. he’d be lucky to receive death.

“she didn’t kill you.”

he shook his head, keeping his eyes low to the ground, “thanks to o.”

it took a day for bellamy to find you all. his face was beaten and bloodied, but you knew better than to ask what the cause was. he had a lot of enemies at the moment and it wasn’t like this was something out of the blue for him. you would've been surprised to see a clean face.

“she doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

“i’d like to think she doesn’t hate me at all,” he presses his lips into a thin line. “you’re right though.”

you nod, trying to look sympathetic.

“about everything. i’m sorry.”

your mouth slightly opens in shock from not anticipating his words; apology and admitting.

“i’m sorry too,” you nod, swallowing harshly as you think about having that gun pointed inches from his face. “i would’ve never shot you.”

“you sure?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell he’s genuine when asking. “could’ve guessed otherwise.”

“guessing will only hurt you,” you tease, but quickly drop the blitheness. “i shouldn’t have done it, but i was scared… and angry.”

“i know,” he whispers, “we do what we have to do, right?”

“right.”

“then if that means shooting me to knock some sense into me, do it.”

a laugh gets stuck in the back of your throat at the preposterous thought of it. the funny thing was you knew he wasn’t joking. classic bellamy, putting himself in harm’s way.

“me a couple months ago would be more than happy to oblige,” you shake your head, making it his turn to laugh.

“us a couple months ago was a different story. i’m sure we already had guns to each other’s throats.”

you laugh with him, “yeah.”

“never again.”

nodding, “never again.”

you stare at one another now, quiet and calm. you don’t think you’ve ever had a moment like this with bellamy before.

you’re not sure what to do, but bellamy does.

your months of angsty butting heads leading to civilness, then ultimately leading to radio silence on both of your ends due to pike, had killed him. and now, here you were, back in his grasp of more than just civilness, he couldn’t let that go.

“i lied,” he mumbles, suddenly shifting from the rock he sat on. “instead of shooting me…” he’s leaning now, hovering, and just barely resisting the urge to complete his intentions. you feel his breath fan your face; feel, because your eyes are shut. “please, just kiss me.”

his nose is slotted against yours, still hovering as he watches you beneath his eye lashes. his lips are so close… so close to yours, it’s killing him that he waits.

“i’m sorry, but i have to do this,” he smiles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

@thecraziestcrayon @mynewnamedoesnotmatter @myalupinblack @cc13723things @Uselesssapphickitten @black-rose-29 @reality-runaway @let-love-bleeds-red @rudypankowisdaddy @the-anxious-youth @kitkat-mini @itzstacie @deadbeatbarb @phantompogues @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @dayanaralight @nyx3028 @hizziestial @ritz-hell-hotel @fruitiseavey @kayalect @deathtobarbie @areil4 @strnqer @mystic-writings @gbrownn @moonlighy @straightzoinked @thelaststraw3 @navyabhatnagar @alexxavicry @esposadomd @lupinsluvbot

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hd-junglebook · 4 months

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RISS' NAVIGATION

I'm Riss. I write for all the men I am currently obsessed with so this page will get longer and longer till I grow up and stop fantasizing about boys I can't have.

Message me to be added to the tag list or to ask me some stupid questions!!

Game of Thrones

From Beyond the Wall

Jon Snow X Free Folk Reader

Rumors begin to spread amongst the wildlings of a growing darkness in the far north, whispers of an ancient evil stirring beyond the Wall. As sightings White Walkers increase, panic grips the wildling camps. They journey southward, they encounter fierce resistance from the Night's Watch and the wilding Princess realizes danger lies not in the conflict with the black brothers, but in the imminent threat from the north.

Part 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

The 100 - Link Here

The Pregnancy Series -

Link Here

Luke Hughes

I have recently fallen in love with ALL THREE brothers. So this is Luke’s masterlist.

Link here

Jack Hughes

He has his own separate one now because he is a special man.

Link here

Quinn Hughes

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willgrahamscock · 1 year

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“I’m in his DMs” okay?? I’m on ao3 reading a fix it fic for a tv show that ended years ago because I can’t deal with real or fictional abandonment

#alex says things #I still read fics for the 100 bc I cannot stand what they did to Bellamy #what fic do u read?#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic

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blvckqwz · 8 months

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Okay so little rant but if there is a thing I absolutely fucking hate is when in a fanfiction they make the reader forgive their s/o in like three second like what the fuck bitch I’mma hold grudges against you ‘till you keep begging on your knees for years. I just fucking read a chapter when I’m supposed to forgive the love interest after HE FUCKING MADE ME ATTEMPT SUICIDE like what. Maybe I’m just an angry individual and I can’t ever be the bigger person but what. the. fuck.

Like that’s not me, I would never forgive him after that. I still have beef with people who didn’t send me birthday wishes in 2017, I’m not going to sleep over the fact that you left me and make me OD and slit my wrists🤷‍♀️

Also just so you know all my OCs are resentful bitches just like the author because they are literally extensions of myself so expect some toe curling revenge from them every time someone crossed them lol

#fanfic #carl grimes fanfiction #twd x reader #carl grimes x reader #twd fanfiction #bellamy blake x reader #troy otto x reader #kellyspeaks

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black-dragon1998 · 9 months

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Lone Wolf chapter 11

Summary: the story continues

Author note: First I want to apologize it took so long for me to post the next chapter for lone wolf. After that, I want to thank everyone who has sent me comments and kudos for my writing. I haven’t forgotten this story, writing has just been difficult the last couple of months.

previous chapters: part 1- part 2- part 3- part 4- part 5- part 6- part 7- part 8 - part 9- part 10

“What! Gives you the right to touch my daughter!” you were livid. How dare this boy touch your daughter. Madi in general had a hard time with being touched. The only people who were allowed to touch her freely, were you, Lexa, Clarke and Anya. From time to time Indra, but that was only when Madi instigates it. So who did this piece of shit think he was for giving Madi a panic attack.

At this point, you were really starting to regret coming to the Skaikru. Would Clarke be really upset if you cut this guy's throat? Probably. Pushing aside the murderous intent you were feeling you turned toward Madi who was still protected by Dina. Madi who was still sobbing uncontrollably. You throw the sword in your hand to the side and crouch down so you are at eye level with your daughter. Dina steps away from the two of you and keeps the rest away.

When Madi spots you through tear-filled eyes, she looks you straight in the eyes but doesn’t move to get closer to you.

“hey, peanut.” You say in a voice you only reserve for your daughter. The little girl is so attuned to the sound that she is already calming down.

“Mama?”

“Yes baby, it is Mama. Are you feeling big emotions?” you knew she was but this made it easier for Madi to work through it. Madi gave you a small nod.

“is the feeling going away?” most of the time the emotions Madi was feeling would pass on their own. When Madi shook her head, you gave her a reassuring smile.

“that is okay. I am here and we are getting through this together. Can I touch you?” with speed almost too fast for a human, Madi was in your arms. She pressed her head against your chest to feel your steady heartbeat. The sound helped in calming her down.

“alright baby, can you tell me five things you see?” your voice is just about a whisper but Madi could hear you just fine.

Clarke and Lexa were wrapping up their meeting. Things had gone smoother than hoped and resulted in the two being able to meet (Y/N) and Madi for lunch. Clarke was putting away the last of the documents when one of the guards sprinted into the tent. The markings on their arms told them that they were on (Y/N) personal guard. Lexa was aware of the guards (Y/N) had put on both her and Clarke.

“Heda! Permission to speak.” The guard asked. Like all your subordinates they had discipline.

“speak soldier,” Lexa said in her heda voice.

“Heda, Wanheda, both of you are needed at the training grounds. One of the Skaikru boys tried to touch the princess. Causing her to have a panic attack and the general to lash out at the boy. Some of the females with the boy are afraid of an escalation.” The guard spoke so fast that Clarke and Lexa almost didn’t catch all of it. The moment Clarke heard Madi was involved she started walking toward the training ground, not listening to Lexa who was calling after her.

Lexa took a moment to collect herself and thanked the guard, before going after her wife-turned-mamabear. She already felled sorry for whoever stood in her way.

Clarke was at the training grounds in no time. There she saw the Gona from a circle around you, Raven, Octavia, Lincoln and Bellamy. Dina was standing close to you ready to react to any situation. You were cradling Madi to your chest, trying to console the sobbing toddler.

Madi didn’t seem to be injured, neither did you. Bellamy on the other hand was sporting a big red line around his neck. Steeling herself Clarke stepped forward to make her presence known. Bellamy was the first to approach her, like a kid rating out somebody to the teacher. You however stayed where you were, cuddling Madi close to your chest.

Instead of listening to Bellamy rambling Clarke made her way toward you and Madi. Laying a comforting hand on Madi’s back.

“Maid sweetheart, look who is here.” You whisper in your daughter's ear. Locking eyes with Clarke, conveying that it was a bad one. Very slowly Madi lifted her head from your shoulder and looked behind her. When she spotted her mommy, she started reaching out for her and you quickly handed her over to Clarke so she could soak in her mommy’s scent. The toddler sagged into the blond's hold immediately.

For some reason, Clarke’s and Lexa’s scents had always a calming effect on you and Madi.

“hey love, somebody told me you were cuddling with Mama. Mind if I join?” Clarke spoke in a tender tone, to not set Madi off again. That had happened in the past when she was overwhelmed too soon.

“Mama helped. Big emotions. Counted. Calmed.” Madi’s sentences were cut short, telling Clarke she hadn’t down completely.

“oh! You and Mama did the counting. Did it help?” Clarke was relieved when Madi nodded into her chest. While Clarke was talking to Madi you had positioned yourself in front of them with crossed arms and a death stare levelling Bellamy, who was trying to get closer.

“what made you feel the big emotions? Can you tell Mommy?”

“Man touched me,” Madi said burring her face back into Clarke’s chest.

“what man sweety?” Clarke Cöed as to not set her off again. without looking Madi pointed a finger toward Bellamy, who was trying to push past (Y/N). (Y/N) however, wasn’t bunching an inch. In the meantime, Raven and Octavia tried to pull Bellamy back.

“let me pass! I have to talk to Clarke.” He tried to sound intimidating, hoping you would let him pass.

“you upset my daughter, do you really think I’m just going to let you near her? No way in hell! If Clarke wants to talk to you she will come over here. Until then back off!” your voice was nothing more than a growl.

Clarke really had hoped Bellamy wasn’t involved. You already didn’t like him and this wasn’t helping. She could only hope to settle your mood before things escalated. Clarke still remembered the last time somebody touched Madi without permission. It was a warrior from Azgeda. He had quickly lost his hand and head. Then she hadn’t batted an eye at it. She hoped it didn’t turn into a brawl. You would level Bellamy with no problem, the only question was when you would stop once you started.

Clarke walked with Madi still clinging to her chest but stayed a couple of feet behind. Hoping this was enough distance for Madi. You immediately sensed Clarke come up behind you, turning partly around so you can look at her and Madi, still preventing Bellamy from getting closer. Clarke knew her next words would be hard for their friends but she had to think about her daughter and wife first. She could talk to her friends later, but first, she had to defuse the situation.

“I think all of you should return to camp until things have calmed down,” Clarke said while looking at her friends. Raven and Octavia seemed to understand, Lincoln respected the words of his kwin. They also knew that if they stayed longer and Bellamy did something stupid, they would be putting Clarke on the spot. Bellamy however started immediately pushing against you to get to Clarke.

“Clarke! Please listen to me. I didn’t mean to do this.”

“Back off!” you got into the shaggy-haired boy's face and pushed him back.

“you come here, make my daughter cry and now you dare to make demands toward our kwin. I should skin you alive for that.” This finally makes Bellamy back down with a loud gulp.

“General!” there was an edge to Clarke’s voice that told you you were getting onto thin ice. It made you back down just a little. The last thing you wanted to do was upset your wife.

“we will leave for now,” Raven said, pulling Bellamy back toward the camp. Leaving you and your family as the only ones in the training ground. The gona had scattered already, knowing nothing good came from upsetting their kwin when she was in mama-bear mode.

Lexa arrived at the exact moment the Skaikru left. You had turned around to look at Clarke. The blond looked anything but happy. Believing it to be best for you and Clarke to talk about whatever the issue was. So Lexa took Madi from Clarke's arms and retreated toward the tent.

“let’s go Madi. Mommy and Mama need to talk.”

“mad?” Madi asked.

“don’t know bug. Why don’t we go find something to eat and wait for them?”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You could have taken Bellamy’s head off today.” Clarke exploded the moment Madi and Lexa were gone. Now that everything had sunken in, Clarke had gotten angry with you. Her reaction made your anger surface again. why was she angry with you?

“He upset Madi. I just reacted on instinct.” You say between clenched teeth, not wanting to snap at Clarke.

“That was an over-the-top reaction. Bellamy didn’t know Madi would react like that.” Clarke counters, while stepping close to you. Like she wanted another response from you. At this point, you had a hard time not glaring at your wife.

“If it had been anybody else but that Skaikru boy we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“ you went too far. You acted like a sa…” Clarke seemed to catch herself at the last moment, but you knew what she was going to say. You had heard it often enough. The dark part in you that you had suppressed for so long reared its ugly head and you could feel your emotions freeze. Looming over Clarke you glared at her.

“say it.” A moment passed and it stayed quiet.

“say it!” the ringing of your voice surprised Clarke. She had never seen you like this.

“Savage.” The word was nothing more than a whisper but you could hear her loud and clear. Did your wife really think of you like that? You could stand for everybody else thinking you were a monster but not your family.

“maybe Clarke I am nothing more than a savage beast, pretending to be something else.” With that, you walked away and into the woods, leaving Clarke alone.

The moment you left a pang rang through Clarke. What had she done, she had never seen you so cold toward her before. When Clarke finally turned around she, you were gone.

part 12

Taglist

@trikruismybitch

@fayhar

@scruffyumbreon

@nocturnal-ace

@poison-blackheart

#clexa fanfic #clexa x reader #lone wolf #clarke x lexa #clarke fanfic #clarke griffin #clarke x reader #lexa fanfic #lexa x reader #lexa kom trikru #reader mutant #mutant reader #mutants #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 #bellamy blake #octavia blake #raven reyes

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notelcol · 4 months

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In which John Murphy steps out of his comfort zone.

Trigger warning : blood, reference to violence.

No one asked for this one but it’s here anyway and vaguely edited 😈

(It came out a little longer than intended, I got ever so slightly carried away…)

When Murphy came back from the grounder prison camp, despite him being the bully of all the delinquents, you couldn’t help but feel guilty. What did Bellamy expect after exiling his once second in command? We should have seen this coming. The grounders would have been fools not to take Murphy for all the information he had. Blood was smeared all over him. You couldn’t tell where it was originating he had that many wounds. The image of his torture made you shudder. Even his fingernails had been ripped from his fingers. You looked away. Forgetting all the times you had needed to confront him to protect others, you made a choice.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You asked Clarke, the only person with medical experience.

“You can find someone to go with you to the path that leads to Mount Weather.” She said with a sigh. “The poison sumac there would be really helpful.” The tired blonde uttered her thanks, while you left to find Octavia. She would most certainly accompany you.

Murphy watched through one eye, since his other was tightly inflamed. He could not fathom why you would be willing to risk your life leaving camp, simply to acquire a calming herb to ease his plight. Especially because the last time you saw each other, you were fighting him to save a child. A child who murdered the chancellors son, and got him hung to within an inch of his own life. Murphy hated you for that, so why didn’t you? The child you were trying to save did die because of him after all. He was a black and white sort of man. One who never understood forgiveness. A person would come to blows once and that’s it, they are dead to him. He always stood by those very rules. Until you, who only fought him in the name of peace. Which is why risking yourself to help someone who truly needs it, came natural to you. Even if it meant giving a second chance to someone like Murphy.

Unfortunately none of the hundred felt the same way as you. After failing to find Octavia, you begun asking around camp for someone to go with you. When that also failed miserably, you decided to grab a gun and head out alone.

The expedition went as well as you could have hoped. You did not feel the many eyes of the forest on you for once. In fact, it was so calm outside of camp that it almost spooked you. You decided to grab extra of the plant while you were there, to save Clark and Fin a job. Finally, your bag was full and it was time to turn back. You realised that you were a little bit out of breath after a few steps. You must have been picking the flowers for longer than you thought.

The walk back to camp felt much more tiring, so your feet began to drag. You could feel the sweat dripping all over your body, particularly annoying you around your top lip. Huffing, you removed your coat and wiped away the sweat from your face with it. You moved to tie it around your waist, only to be hit by a wavering buzz. It sent your whole body spinning. You watched your coat drop to the floor and finally noticed the blood. All that blood, covering most of the garment. You were so dazed that you didn’t even notice you had fallen.

“Get. Up.” You growled to yourself. Sputtering thick crimson, you clawed at the mud. This must be biological warfare. Your symptoms too similar to Murphy’s to be a coincidence. This revelation only cemented your determination to get this poison sumac back to camp. If you had caught it, then others must have too. Your mind went round in loops while your arms refused to rest. Until you inevitably exhausted yourself and dropped your head to the forest floor.

Murphy was finally starting to feel better. The countless patients in the drop ship could not say the same. As he gave water to a quiet girl named Fox, the fabric around the drop ship door ruffled loudly. Miller came rushing in with you slumped in his arms, blood and dirt covered you to the point where you were almost unrecognisable. He watched as you were dropped into a hammock. A strange feeling, one he could not identify, filled his chest as your bag spilled open revealing the many poison sumac flowers you had brought back.

You awoke to the feeling of something cold and wet on your forehead. You groaned at the heaviness in your lungs, which only caused the blood to gurgle and spurt from your mouth. As you choked, your eyes shot open to be faced by Murphy. His eyes almost went as wide as your own as he quickly removed the cold cloth from your head and pushed you onto your side. Your breath shook in relief. Instantly oxygen came easier, and the blood drained away.

“Rest.” He spoke in a softer tone than you thought was even possible from Murphy. Of their own accord, your eyes fell closed once more. The blood was wiped from your face in a manner that felt more like caress, helping you drift away peacefully to your dreams.

For the first time in his life, Murphy had entered his personal grey area. Your undeserved kindness showed him the world through a lens other than his own rage and paranoia. He decided then and there that he would take care of you until you recovered. Allowing himself to believe it was getting even, when really it was something else entirely. It was simply another thing he had yet to understand.

#fluff #x reader #john murphy #the 100 #cw the 100 #the 100 x reader #grounders #angst with a happy ending #light angst #genshin fluff #john murphy x reader #hurt/comfort #caretaker #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #scifi #fanfic #writing

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majorietaylorsversion · 11 months

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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.

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