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narcissisticmf · 8 months

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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

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anjellaufeyson · 2 months

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I could treat you better - Bellamy Blake

Time stamp: 1:38

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’s valuable to her?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Were you yes or no?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bellamy blake #oneshot #octavia blake #the 100 #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake imagine #enemies to lovers #fake dating #abby griffin #john murphy #jasper jordan #monty green #bob morley #Spotify

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meredithbeckham · 9 months

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being alive is to have life telling you, "okay, now i will ask you to be brave. now i will ask you to be brave. now i will ask you to be brave." over and over and over until you learn it, and then have to learn it again.

#the100edit #the 100 #bellamyblakeedit #octaviablakeedit #bellamy x octavia #*#my favorite siblings

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bellaarke · 2 years

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#TheBestOfThe100: Gifs/Edits/Vids/Meta Prompts September 21st - October 21st

This event aims to allow us to remember what we loved about the characters and relationships on the show, and what we loved about the story The 100.

Gifs/Edits/Vids/Meta Prompts:

Cast Appreciation

Character Appreciation

Relationship Appreciation

Friendships & Families

Colors/Color Symbolism

Themes & Motifs

Pick Your Favorite... moment, aesthetic, season, episode, storyline, fashion, location, kru, etc…

Snapshot Moments: happiest moment, saddest moment, angstiest moment, most anticipated moment, most WTF moment, etc…

Remember The Fallen - What & who we lost on the journey

We Exist In Parallel - this show loves to parallel itself and other media, show us your favorites

Tropes Galore - we all love a good trope, show us your favorites within the show

Underrepresented & Underappreciated - give love to anything you feel the fandom does not talk about enough

Quotes That Stick With You - Quotes & lines that you love

Music & Lyrics

AUs, How It Should Have Ended, & Post-Canon

Reasons You Watched

[Full Event Explanation HERE] // [Fanfiction Prompts HERE]

@bellaarke will reblog all posts in the #thebestofthe100 tag that are original creations or properly credited (as in the case of recs/shoutouts) - posts using the 'insert gif function' will only be reblogged if they are meta-enhancements, not whole posts of other's gifs.

#the 100 #the100edit #bellarke #bellarkeedit #octavia blake #octaviablakeedit #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #bellamyblakeedit #clarkegriffinedit #bellamy x clarke #bellamy x octavia #josephine lightbourne #thebestofthe100

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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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silverflameataraxia · 2 years

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My next read!

Spoiler from the books: Bellamy and Wells are half-brothers. Very interesting.

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strawberryforks · 3 months

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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

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