Some oneshots of your favorites!
I write for:
- Avengers/MCU
- Criminal Minds
- Harry Potter
- Star Wars
- The Originals
- The 100
- Twilight
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I own none of these characters. All rights go to their respective creator:
- Stan Lee (Avengers/MCU)
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If you don't get a healthy nights sleep tonight you're going to end up doing more harm than good around camp. Not only are you literally the worst person to be around when tired, but you can't stitch someone up when you can't keep your eyes open. Just as you're about to clean up and go to bed, Bellamy limps in. You throw your towel down.
"You know, I can't even find the energy to be worried about you," you complain as he sits on the metal table. He grins sheepishly and rolls up his pant leg. "What did you do?"
"Would you believe me if I said I tripped?" You examine his leg, deciding it doesn't need stitches.
"No. What did you do?"
"We had a run in with the Grounders." You stand up quickly, the action causing your vision to spot. You grab onto the table to steady yourself.
"Is anyone else hurt?" you ask, blinking your vision back into place.
"No, everyone is fine. I only got a small cut because I didn't jump over a sword in time." You sigh and start the process of cleaning his wound. He's quiet while you work, only an occasional sharp inhale when you use the alcohol. Once you wrap it up, you roll down his pant leg and stand. He stands as well, flexing his leg.
"Try not to get injured anymore, okay?"
"Why, worried?" he teases.
"Of course I am, Bellamy. You're my best friend," you grumble. You throw the towels in the corner, making a mental note to go wash them in the lake tomorrow. Bellamy wraps his arms around your shoulders and pulls you back into his chest. You don't even try to resist. You let your eyes close and you hum in content.
"Is that all?" he asks, his voice causing your head to vibrate.
"What do you mean?" you ask, your words slurring in your sleep-deprived state.
"Do you only think of me as your best friend?"
"I mean, you're also a dick," you muse, your lips twitching upward into a smirk. Bellamy sighs and steps back. You know he didn't mean for it to happen, but you fall flat on your ass. You stare up at the ceiling of the dropship, stunned and overtired.
"What the hell, (Y/N)?" Bellamy exclaims, kneeling beside you. You chuckle tiredly.
"I'm more tired than I thought." He puts down his bag and scoops you up in his arms. "No, you have an injured leg, Bellamy," you protest.
"Shut up and let me help you," he mumbles. You're too tired to refuse, so you lay limply in his arms.
"Is she alright?" you hear Clarke ask as Bellamy steps out of the dropship.
"Stupid and tired," Bellamy informs.
"Hey," you protest quietly. You can almost see Clarke's exasperated look as Bellamy walks by.
"Get some sleep for once," Clarke says, placing a hand on your knee before letting you pass. Bellamy lays you down on a cot with a bigger blanket than the one in your tent.
"Hold up, are we in your tent?" you ask, sitting up. He pushes you back down.
"Yes. Now lay down."
"Only if you lay with me."
"I wasn't planning on going anything else," he replies cheekily. He slips off your shoes before his own and crawls into the bed with you. You scoot into his open arms and snuggle in. You sleep together all the time. Not sexually, obviously.
You've been best friends since you were on the Ark. He helped you through your mom being floated, and you helped him through Aurora being floated and Octavia being locked up. When you were locked up for stealing medicine for your father, Bellamy would visit you every day without fail. You would be lying if you said you hadn't fallen in love with him over the years.
That being said, platonically cuddling with him is getting much, much harder these days.
"When was the last time you slept?" Bellamy asks, pulling your from your thoughts.
"I don't know. A few days? With the Grounders lurking everywhere, people getting injured because they don't know how to safely build the wall, and minor injuries around camp and while hunting," you pause, glaring at him, "I haven't had much time."
"You know, you can't help everyone else if you're not in the right frame of mind and health to do so, (Y/N/N)," he sighs.
"You're one to talk," you mumble into his shirt. He pulls you closer, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing manner.
"I don't know if I want to kiss you or throw you off a cliff," Bellamy mumbles.
"Can I pick?" you joke.
Well, half-joke.
"No, because I've already decided." You pull away, ready to shoot a sarcastic comment. The words never make it past your lips because Bellamy's are on yours. You lay there, eyes wide. He pulls away, his blush making his freckles more prominent.
"I— I thought we were just friends," you say, not able to trust your voice above a whisper. Bellamy gives you an incredulous look.
"You and I both know we're more than friends, (Y/N)."
Well, shit.
You pull him back, connecting your lips again. It's short but holds everything you've been keeping locked up for years.
"Really, this was so long awaited that I'm surprised it took either one of us this long to make a move. I mean, I always knew I wouldn't make the first move, but I thought it would've taken you a shorter amount of time," you ramble. Bellamy brushes your hair from your face, smiling at your nervous chatter.
"I didn't know if you felt the same." You snort.
"Oh? My 'I wanna fuck you against a tree' look wasn't enough for you?" You joke. Bellamy chuckles, the sound sending the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.
"You really should get some sleep."
"You should, too. Only because I don't want you to run off and me have to fix you again."
"Mhm. Yep. That's all," he agrees cheekily. You go to smack his chest but he catches your hand and kisses the back of it before kissing your lips softly.
