Bellamy Blake Imagines

Blue Earth P2

Clink, Clink! The sharp twang of metal on metal hung in the air, mixing in perfectly with the sounds of the survivor settlement as you sharpened the hunk of iron you'd found while secretly foraging in the woods outside of camp. You hoped to make this shapeless hunk of metal into a weapon you could use for hunting. Food here was few and far between, and the more people fed, the happier this camp would be.

 Having some knowledge of what and how to hunt, you figured you'd make yourself useful. It was better than sitting here on your ass, or chasing after butterflies, like Octavia. Though at least she seemed to be getting some. The same couldn't be said for you.

At that moment a few more survivors trickled into camp, including the Chancellors son Wells. A very shirtless Bellamy stumbled out of the drop ship, a clingy brunette saddled to his side. She deposited a sloppy kiss to his cheek before sliding away. Apparently Octavia was not the only Blake that was getting some. You felt the undeniable pangs of jealousy heat your cheeks. Who was she; you should be at his side, not her.

Where had that thought come from?

You didn't have time to ponder that while the newly arrived survivors, obviously amped up on testosterone and other various hormones, broke out in a fight. Soon a ring of people surrounded the two fighting, but you stayed put. You had to get this weapon finished by noon. You squinted up at the sun. Judging by its position in the sky, you had at least a few more hours until your time limit.

With renewed drive, you slowly, painstakingly whittled away at your hunk of metal until you had successfully carved a spear head, which you secured with string made of vine onto a short wooden pole. The pole itself was carved out of a tree stump. You had smoothed and tooled with the wood until it was pliable and usable in your experienced hands.

Biting your lip, you ran your thumb over the edge of your sharpened knife point, testing its strength. It almost drew blood. You took that as a good sign, and prepared to sharpen it further.

You'd just started scraping away when an unwelcome and unfamiliar body plopped down close to you. You didn't turn your head, hoping the lack of acknowledgment would spurn the presence away. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect and the intruder just skirted closer. You flicked your eyes up to determine the identity of the squatter next to you, and rolled your eyes to find a lightly bleeding John Murphy slouching next to you. You were so not in the mood for his bullshit.

Focusing your attention on the nearly finished spearhead in front of you, you murmured, "What do you want Murphy?"

You could practically feel his smug smirk as he replied, "Just a little quality time, doll," as he spoke he reached over and gripped your upper thigh, hard, "How 'bout you and me run off to the woods and relieve some stress. Huh?" His thumb started stroking your inner thigh as he continued, "Whataya say?"

You shot him an incredulous look, and ceasing your sharpening you faced him fully, saying, "Remove your hand from my leg, Murphy," your voice held a stern warning, but you feared he was such a dumb ass he'd need a tangible warning, so you pressed your newly minted blade into his crotch before you continued, "Or I'll do it for you"

His amused chuckle only served to piss you off further, though he seemed to find you threat endearing, as his next unwelcome comment was, "Damn, you're a spirited one," He leaned in further, his unpleasant scent making you cringe, "I like them feisty"

His sneer was enough to make bile rise in your throat, and you had just prepared to really dig in with the weapon you had pointed at his jewels when a slender tanned hand gripped Murphy's shoulders tightly. You instinctively knew who it was before you even looked but your traitorous gaze flew upwards regardless.