#the100

summary. Bellamy doesn’t know how to act when he’s in love.

⭑.ᐟfirst time writing in weeks hopefully this isn’t too bad! This is only a little something I just wrote, I’m not fully back yet <3

word count. 1,065

my masterlist

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Bellamy knows he’s screwed the moment his eyes meet yours when you walk into the room.

The way your hair moves perfectly with the rhythm of your feet walking, the way your hips sway, only waiting for his hands to fit there.

He laughs at himself sometimes because he’s ridiculous. He’s like a high school boy. His stomach feels weird, like butterflies dancing. He feels high everytime he sees you, or hears your laugh like it’s the only thing that makes him forget where he stands in this world. Or what’s left of it.

The room suddenly stops spinning. Instead it’s quiet, it doesn’t move, it’s still. It’s still because he’s only seeing you. He sees your lips move, he’s almost sure he can feel the beats of your laugh growing from the floor onto his feet, to his heart. Like yours is his.

Frankly, he misses it. He can still hear it, he can still see you, but you’ve been distant and that kills him.

Your eyes meet his again, in avoidance. It’s like you wish he hadn’t caught you.

A small smirk dances on his lips when you look away. Maybe he’s not crazy. Maybe you’re avoiding him because perhaps you feel the tension, and you don’t want to feel it.

Maybe you’re scared.

God knows he is.

He’s terrified.

Bellamy doesn’t do terrified. He doesn’t do scared. But he also doesn’t do girlfriends.

He does one night stands.

Threesomes.

He fantasizes and acts on it when it’s right.

This feels right.

And yet he still doesn’t act on it.

To him? He’s a damn coward.

To you? Every second away from him eats at you. It makes you feel less alive. To you, stolen glances across the room aren’t enough.

You need him.

Maybe you’re a coward too.

But not tonight.

Tonight, when you look at him for the thousandth time, you see him sipping on his drink like he’s been waiting for you to make your way to him the whole night. His smirk is still there, small, like it’s only for you to notice.

The music isn’t loud. It’s right where it needs to be. The sound pumps still in your veins. The moonshine running there like it’s second nature. Your heart beats fast, but your legs move even faster.

There’s no dress. There’s no sexy attire, there’s just you.

And him waiting by the bar.

Bellamy feels it all of a sudden. He starts to sweat, his heart beats even faster than yours- but he doesn’t let that stop him. Instead he takes another sip to give him some more confidence , and meets you halfway across the room.

You don’t speak for a minute. It’s pure tension, just starring at each other wondering who’s going to be the first one to talk, to kiss, to dare making a move.

Then, as if the gods are laughing at you, the music’s not so fast anymore. It’s slow.

People around you gather with their lovers to dance.

Neither of you talk. Instead, Bellamy offers you his hand as to ask you to dance because frankly, he’s scared that if he talks, he’ll break and confess his love right then and there.

A small smile sits on your lips, the butterflies in your stomach are constant, like it’s never going to stop. Like they’ll just stay there comfortably forever.

It’s quick. Your hands around his neck, touching his hair. His hands locking perfectly around your waist, like pieces of a puzzle fitting into eternity.

‘I’m sorry.’ You’re the first one to speak. He wants to avoid your gaze, but he can’t- so he answers, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

‘For what?’ He clears his throat.

‘I’ve been avoiding you.’ Bellamy’s eyes almost go wide. Maybe because he knows what this is leading to.

You focus on him, trying to forget about the possibility of all of this going wrong.

You just can’t hold it in anymore.

It has to come out- even if you make a fool out of yourself.

‘We’re not stupid people, right?’ You ask, biting your lip.

Bellamy doesn’t answer, but he tilts his head, confused.

‘I mean, are we? I just- I wanna know that I’m not crazy, bell.’

He understands immediately what you’re saying.

He swallows, his throat is dry. He was scared a second ago, but now? He knows exactly what’s about to happen.

His heart skips a beat, and his smile grows.

‘You’re not crazy.’ He doesn’t need to say anything else, you let out a breath of relief.

‘Thank god.’ You whisper under your breath, your head going to rest on his chest.

When you look back up, Bellamy seems stuck. He’s still smiling, but you can tell he’s thinking hard.

‘What’s on your mind?’ Your right hand moves to his cheek as he leans into it.

‘Do you really wanna do this?’ He asks.

Both of you know you don’t have to specify. This conversation is only for you to understand.

And you do.

You understand every word.

You don’t think.

Thinking is overrated.

Instead, you pull Bellamy towards you, and crash your lips onto his. Your feet almost lifted off the ground.

It’s slow at first, because he doesn’t know what’s happening.

He’s been dreaming of that for ages.

Your lips move in perfect synch, his hands sink into your hips. They bruise, they ink into it.

The pace fastens before you remember there’s people all around. Your friends are standing not far, most certainly watching the whole thing only wishing they had pop corn.

You pull away, your feet going back on the floor to ground you.

Your breaths are uneven.

‘How’s that for an answer?’ You let out a small giggly breath.

Bellamy laughs wholeheartedly.

‘It’s pretty good.’ He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

All while mocking him, you slap his torso as he winces.

‘What? You need a second round?’ You ask jokingly.

‘I might.’ Bellamy’s smile is still wide, and instead of waiting again, he pulls you in first this time.

It’s hungry, like he’s been starving for years even though he just kissed you a minute ago.

His fingernails dig deep, your hands tangle in his hair.

You don’t know what’ll happen after this.

But as you kiss in the middle of a crowded room feeling like it’s just you two against the world, you don’t really care.

You only care about him.

And that’s enough for now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

We take Richard Harmon and we put him.

Alien x Reader (or is it technically reader who’s the alien?)

One hundred delinquents. Survival seems almost impossible. But not all of them were sent for the same reasons.

Sentenced to set foot on a planet ravaged by radiation, Hannah knows the real threat isn’t always what lies outside. The fight for power, desperation, and the buried secrets among them threaten to tear them apart. And in the middle of the chaos, Bellamy Blake emerges as her greatest obstacle... and her only weakness.

What begins as a forced alliance slowly turns into a connection neither of them expected.

Chapter 1: 100. Miller, Hannah

Chapter 2: 00:00:00

Chapter 3: First breath

Chapter 4: Made to suffer

Chapter 5: What lies ahead

Chapter 6: Earth Kills

Chapter 7: Murphy´s law

Chapter 8: Leadership

Chapter 9: Static

Chapter 10: Born for this

Chapter 11: Don´t look back

Chapter 12: Stay strong

Chapter 13: A world worth fighting for

Chapter 14: Together

Chapter 15: Unity day

Author´s note:

Thank you so much for giving yourself the chance to read this far! I usually have a hard time finding The 100 fanfics that truly catch my attention, which is why I decided to write my own. But I wanted to clarify a few things:

I don’t use “Y/N” because I find it a bit uncomfortable when writing. I always choose a specific name or description for my characters, but you’re totally free to imagine a different name or physical appearance if you prefer.

I want this to be a slow burn story, so it’ll take several chapters before the plot moves toward Bellamy Blake.

I’m not a fan of stories that just copy the original script and only add one or two lines for the main character. I find that boring and repetitive. That’s why I’m trying not to write the chapters exactly the same as in the show and instead create entirely new moments. However, due to the nature of the plot, there will be some parts I just can’t avoid.

ᛝ 𐔌 . ⋮ bellamy fucks you after he hasn’t seen you in weeks .ᐟ ֹ

content ahed ⤷ NSFW 18+ kissing, fingering, oral(receiving), vaginal penetration, dirty talk, Bellamy lowk does whatever you say.

| btw this is my first time making a fic so if it’s bad I’m sorry!! And I haven’t proof read it 😭

You came back after a few weeks. The dropship creaks in the wind, long abandoned but still standing like a stubborn skeleton. Inside, only one lantern flickers low, painting everything in warm amber and deep shadow.

Bellamy’s sitting on the edge of the old bench seat, elbows on his knees, watching you like he’s still not sure you’re real. You’ve been back less than twelve hours after weeks apart—weeks of not knowing if the other was breathing.

His eyes wide like he yearned for you, like he didn’t know if he wanted to get up, hug you, kiss you, scream at you or fuck you.. honestly he wanted to do all of them.

You step between infront of him eyes full of hope and weary

His hands find your hips instantly, big and warm through the thin fabric of your shirt, thumbs brushing slow circles like he’s finally aware you’re real.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, voice gravel-rough with a flicker of concern.

“Cold,” you lie. voice weak like you couldn’t tell if he was angry at you.

He doesn’t buy it. Never does.

He stepped towards you and pulled you into his embrace, his hands gentle but rough with callouses, you hesitated before melting into his arms.

He missed this, he missed you.

“Bellamy I-“ you opened your mouth to speak but he kissed you softly before you could even mutter another word.

Soft at first. So soft it almost hurts. Slow, open-mouthed kisses like he’s memorizing every corner again. Tongue sliding lazy and reverent. One hand cups the back of your neck, thumb playing with the small hairs at the back.

You sigh into his mouth and he drinks it down.

“Missed you,” he breathes between kisses. “Every fucking second.”

You thread your fingers into his curls, tugging softly. He didn’t pull away, scared that if he let go he would lose you again but this time for longer.

you slowly pulled away, this time for air. You panted softly trying to pull in any air you could get. Bellamy started at you, his eyes full of longing, lust, and need.

The next kiss is harder. Teeth. His hand fists in your hair, angles your head exactly how he wants it. His hands found your hips and pushed them into his.

“Fuck—baby—”

He stands suddenly, lifting you with him like you weigh nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist on reflex. He walks you backward until your spine meets the cool metal wall of the dropship. The contrast makes you gasp.

He doesn’t stop kissing you.

One hand braces beside your head, the other slides down, works the button of your jeans open with practiced flicks. When his fingers slip inside your underwear and find you already soaked, he curses roughly against your lips.

“Goddamn… all this for me?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Always for you.”

He sinks two fingers into you without warning—slow enough to feel every inch, deep enough to make your back arch off the wall. His thumb circles your clit at the same lazy, torturous pace the same one he always used. His fingers weren’t at a stable rhythm though it was softer, harder, in between. your mind couldn’t decide which one you needed.

You’re trembling, clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into the worn fabric of his jacket.

“Look at me,” he says, voice low and wrecked.

You force your eyes open. His are almost black, pupils blown, jaw tight like he’s holding himself back by a thread.

He curls his fingers just right and you cry out—sharp, helpless.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours. “Let me hear you. Been too quiet without you.”

He keeps that devastating rhythm until your thighs are shaking, until you’re grinding down onto his hand, chasing it.

Then he pulls his fingers free. You mewled at the loss.

He smirks—just that old cocky tilt of his mouth that still makes your stomach flip—before he drops to his knees.

“Is this okay?” He pleaded, he looked up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for your answer.

“Yes—please.. just…” you begged, you needed this. He needed this. his hands quickly got to work.

Your jeans and underwear are yanked down in one rough tug. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, spreads you open with both thumbs, he kisses your thighs like he’s worshipping you, mumbling sweet nothings while focused on nothing but your legs.

Then his mouth is on your pussy.

He licks a slow, broad stripe from entrance to clit, groaning like he’s tasting heaven. After that it’s messy—open-mouthed kisses, tongue flicking fast like he’s starved.

you gasped like the air has been vacuumed out your lungs. Your eyes squeezed shut and your head lolled back, your mouth opened, making nothing but sounds.

he’s sucking like you’re his one thing that’s keeping him alive, your hips jerk. his hand grips your thigh to keep you spread, the other slides up under your shirt to palm your tits, thumb brushing your nipple in time with his tongue.

he got up from your thighs leaving you without the release you needed, you whined and whimpered for him, “Bellamy— what? Please don’t—“ you begged.

He kisses you deep so you taste yourself on him. His tongue slips into your mouth. your hands trailed down his chest, tracing every crease or detail you found untill you reached his waistband.

your hands played with the button to his jeans while mumbling into the kiss “can I?”

he quickly nodded in response, your hands shoved his jeans down just enough to expose his boxers, his cock was thick. The boxers doing nothing to hide how hard he was for you.

“Like what you see?” He asked with a cocky smile on his face.

“don’t be an asshole, not right now anyway” you smiled back elbowing his thigh.

your hand tugged his boxers off, saving the teasing for another time knowing that none of you wanted to wait right now.

his cock came free. It was heavy and aching, the tip was red and leaking, a prominent vein on the back of his cock. His hand came down and guided it to your pussy.

you’re soaked, he pushed his cock through your folds a few times to gather the wetness.

“god!—“ you choked out. Still sensitive from not getting the release you needed earlier.

“Want it baby? Tell me yes” he mumbled as he kept a hand on his cock, he nudged your entrance.

“Yes,” you panted. “Please.. Bellamy—need you.” You begged.

He pushes in one long, slow slide. It was a stretch, he could feel how tight you are.

Your head falls back against the wall with a soft thud. He’s so thick it burns in the best way, stretching you open until your thighs tremble around his hips.

“oh! Oh fuck—“ you whined but it could’ve been mistake for a scream.

He stills when he’s buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to yours, breathing ragged.

“Fuck… still so perfect.. you okay? Tell me you’re okay.” he whispers, craving to know he hasn’t hurt you.

“Mhm! Yes.. yes!” You panted.

his hips started to move, slow at first—deep, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. His hands cradle your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks.

“Harder.. please!” You begged. Your hands clawing down his back leaving red marks in its wake.

he groaned and his pace picks up. Harder. Deeper. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the empty dropship. He hooks your other leg around his waist so he can drive up into you, hitting that spot that makes white sparks burst behind your eyes.

he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, he wasn’t loud but you could hear small whines from him every time you clenched.

“you okay?” he asks, voice dark, a flash of worry in his tone could be heard.

You nod frantically, not being able to form a sentence, you let out random sounds trying but failed miserably.

One hand braced on the wall beside your head, the other gripping your ass so tight you’ll have fingerprints tomorrow. Every thrust punches the air from your lungs. You can feel him everywhere—inside, against your clit, in the way his chest rubs your nipples through your shirt.

“Gonna! Mm— fuck close..” you gasped, your thighs were trembling around his waist as your hips were fucking up into his.

“Me too— fuck! baby where do you want me..?” He groaned, his pace not slowing.

“Inside,” you gasp. “Please—want to feel you—”

He slams in one last time, buries himself as deep as he can go, and comes with a low, guttural groan. You feel him pulse, hot and endless, filling you until it’s dripping down your thighs.

he doesnt pull out. He waits Until you tel him he can.

Instead he kisses you slow again—lazy, sated, tender. Forehead to forehead. Breathing each other’s air.

“I love you,” he says quietly, like it’s still new. Like he’s still surprised he gets to say it.

You brush the damp curls off his forehead.

“Love you back.”

He smiles—small, real, rare.

Then he carries you to the makeshift bed in the corner, still inside you, still connected, and lays you down like you’re something precious.

He stays close the rest of the night.

| I rawdogged this without music at 2am and it’s my first fic so if it’s terrible I’m sorry!!

--

Clarke slips past the crack in the door, light on her feet. Far different than when she first arrived on the ground; stomping through the forest with Anya dragging her behind. She has learned so much in her short time with Lexa. She slows, the sweaty form of her lover laying on the bed breaks her from her thoughts.

One of the many things Clarke has learned since arriving in Polis was that Lexa is stubborn. She clicks her tongue, and rolls her eyes. Clarke told her time and time again to slow down, to breathe, but Lexa never listens. She warned her that she would make herself ill one of these days. Never taking a breath of her own. And now look at her…

Clarke walks towards the curtains and pulls them shut, plunging the room into darkness. Only candle light remains dancing across the walls. She crawls into bed, the furs soft against her skin. She curls herself around Lexa, her skin warm against her lips, her hair damp where it clings to her temple, and says, “I told you this would happen.”

Lexa nuzzles in closer and mumbles against Clarke's chest, “Don’t say it.”

“Then let me take care of you.” Clarke says, tucking a stray hair behind Lexa's ear. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“…my head.” Lexa says, with a groan.

“I know, now rest.”

Lexa sighs, sinking further into Clarke's open arms, finally letting herself rest.

--