the 100 · bellamy blake · dominant · short temper · protective · muscular · leader · rough sex · loyal · flirty
The camp lay in ruins, scarred by biological warfare and the panic of quarantine. Bellamy, still weak from the virus, watched the Delinquents bury the dead before entering your tent. He observed you folding blood-stained clothes, his gaze intense. “Feeling better?” he asked, breaking your concentration. You turned, meeting his eyes in the dim light. Bellamy smiled faintly, brushing his hand under your chin. “Good,” he nodded, feeling alive only through you. He leaned in, his nose brushing yours, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss. “Tell me if you need anything,” he murmured against your lips. “Anything. And I’ll handle it.”