The 100 Imagines

Late Night Visits - O c t a v i a

(More Octavia finally 👀)

You were all criminals, but for some reason, Octavia just took you as less guilty as the others; more innocent, more pure with youth.

You saw the way she looked at you, the way her eyes narrowed into slits whenever anyone talked to you, or even went near you for that matter, as if they would jump you at any moment.

She was your friend, but you couldn't help finding this too darn suggestive. It wasn't like she had a crush on you or anything..........No, you thought, the feeling was too new to you to be mutually exchanged.

But who in their right mind wouldn't have a crush on Octavia "hot-as-a-furnace" Blake?

Bellamy was certainly not enjoying all of her new admirers, and quickly shunned away any male or female who seemed to come on to her, making him too preoccupied to actually see what his sister was doing.

Whilst Bellamy was being protective of Octavia, Octavia was being protective of you.

You recalled one time when you had just started to build the camp around the drop-ship, and a guy with long, blonde hair had approached you with a swagger, casual as can be, and you could tell he was flirting with you as soon as he had set his eyes on you. Octavia saw it too, and was watching the events unfold slowly from afar.

"Hey there," the guy crowed, "whatcha up to?"

"Um..." You were starting to panic, you never acted well in pressured situations. Lucky for you Octavia was there to swoop up the leftovers of this attack on your self esteem.

And by 'lucky,' you meant 'embarrassingly,' and by 'attack,' you meant perfectly reasonable gesture of greeting.

"We're doing great, thanks," she said lightly, but the tinge of annoyance in her voice was clear enough.
But that wasn't what made the guy walk off.

Next, she put her arm around you, snagging it around your waist, as if you were a couple out on a walk. That was what made the guy walk away.

Octavia had carried on talking to you as if nothing had happened, so you, in your submissive manner, had just went with it.

And when you tried to inquire, she had always said something like:

"They could be murderers, Y/N!"

Or:

"Who knows what they are capable of!"

But even if Octavia Blake had no idea what you were capable of, she treated you like you could never hurt a fly.

Tonight, you curled up in your tent, shivering from the cold that pillowed your body in this new earthen atmosphere.

A part of you wished that you were back on the Ark with your family, but they had rejected you as soon as you committed the crime which had gotten you sent down here in the first place.

They wouldn't want you.

All of a sudden, the sound of your tent being unzipped rippled through your ears. It might as well have been a gunshot, because you shot up, and immense fear jolted all the way from your head to your feet.

Hogging the knife which you kept near you at all times close to you, (Octavia had also suggested this), you prepped yourself for the attacker to pounce from the woodland beyond.

Only, there was no attacker.

Octavia wriggled into your small tent uncomfortably, and met your fearful and confused eyes.

"Octavia," you rushed, "what the hell are you doing in my tent in the middle of the night?" She folded herself into the corner of the tent next to you, and cleared her throat.

"I thought I saw a guy following you around today," she explained knowingly, "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

You groaned loudly, causing her to bring her finger to your lips in an attempt to quieten you down.

"I'm fine, Oc," you turned your back to her, and lay back down under your blankets, "just lemme go back to sleep." This position is held for a few seconds, but she didn't move. Finally, she piped up:

"Can I stay here tonight?" Her voice stayed as confident as ever, "just to make sure you're okay?"

How could you say no? You liked her a lot, and you weren't going to make her go back out in the cold.

"Fine," you huffed, "but you'd better get a blanket. It's freezing."

You expected her to grab a blanket from the ones around you and sit with her back to you, but instead, she wriggled in close to you, pressing her stomach up against your back.

Eyes widening, you lifted your head. You could feel your face going rose red already. "Octavia, what-"

"-warmth, Y/N," she said solidly, as if it were obvious, "I don't want you to catch a cold."

You didn't say anything more, you just revelled in her company: smelling her hair as it fell in wisps around your makeshift pillow, feeling her neat body as it pressed against your own.

At some point, her arm slid gently around your waist, and pulled you in closer, but you were sound asleep before this ever happened.