Wells Jaha is a shameless matchmaker, but also the world’s best third wheel.
rated: general audiences
( read on AO3 )
The sun was just starting to rise above the trees as Clarke joined Bellamy on the wall. Her breath puffed out in frosty clouds as she shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.
“How’s Monroe doing?” he asked brusquely, never taking his eyes off the open ground just outside camp. He’d been awake all night — all week, really — and it showed in his eyes, as well as his general attitude. As Octavia had pointed out more than once, Bellamy was a grumpy old man to start with, but the sleep deprivation only made things worse, as did the minor injury sustained by one of their best markswomen.
“Long since patched up and asleep like everyone else. Why don’t you go get some rest, too? I can take over your watch.”
Bellamy snorted, adjusting his grip on the gun that never seemed to leave his side. “You couldn’t hit the side of the dropship, let alone a Grounder up to no good. Go get your own beauty sleep, princess. I don’t need your help up here.”
“Told you he’d say that.” Climbing up to join them, Wells raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Blake, when’s the last time you got more than a few minutes of sleep at a time? You’re not much good to us if you’re so tired you fall asleep on the job.”
“I’m fine,” Bellamy snapped.
“No, you’re not,” Clarke shot back just as peevishly, giving him a light shove to make her point. When he stumbled back a step, balance clearly impaired by too many consecutive hours (days) spent awake, her eyes lit up triumphantly.
Scowling even as he accepted defeat, he slung his rifle over his shoulder. “If anything comes through those gates that shouldn’t, I’m holding both of you personally responsible. Especially you, Chancellor Junior.”
“That’s fair,” Wells said amiably as he took up the position Bellamy had just vacated. “If I get us all killed, you’re well within your rights to kill me for letting it happen.”
Clarke and Bellamy automatically exchanged a Can you believe this guy? eye roll, then hastily glanced away from each other when they realized what they’d done.
Wells had noticed the whole thing and was grinning rather knowingly. “Why don’t you two go back to bed? And if you finally decide to get it out of your systems, try to keep it down; the kids are sleeping.”
Neither of them missed the insinuation.
“Excuse me?” Clarke said, deadly soft, even as she reflexively grabbed the back of Bellamy’s jacket to keep him from jumping on her best friend.
Wells just blinked at them innocently. “Just reminding you two not to be too loud when you inevitably get into an argument on your way in. Why, what did you think I meant?”
There was no good answer to that, so they stormed off. Together, of course — there was only one good access point to get on and off the platform, and they were headed in the same direction. When Bellamy slung an arm around Clarke’s shoulders, he told himself it was to ward off the early-morning chill and tried to ignore the way his heart warmed up too as she tucked herself into his side for half a second.
-------------------------
Once they got inside the communal quarters, though, it soon became clear that there was little space to step, let alone lie down or even sit, among the scattered sprawl of delinquents. Clarke sighed and nudged Bellamy to get his attention, then cocked her head back towards the door. Giving up on the insulated dropship, they headed for his tent instead.
When she caught sight of the rumpled blanket on the narrow makeshift bed, Clarke hesitated. “I can go,” she said softly.
“Do you really want to wade through all those kids to find a place to sleep when I have a perfectly good bed right here? Plus it’s cold out. Body heat, that’s a thing, right?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he had to actively try not to blush. He’d had threesomes, dammit; inviting his co-leader to platonically share his sleeping space should not have been this awkward.
“Um. If you’re sure, I guess.”
“What, the princess needs twenty feet of personal space at all times?” he said, a bit too harshly to be teasing. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll sleep on the ground instead.”
The temperature in his tent might’ve dropped another ten degrees due to her icy glare. “Don’t be stupid, Bellamy. Who’s going to argue with my every decision if you die of hypothermia doing something so patently unnecessary? And besides, I’m too busy to deal with the bruises you’ll whine about in the morning.”
“Glad we got that sorted out.” Bellamy swept an arm across the bed in a grand gesture. “Ladies first.”
That got a wry smile as she slid under the covers, moving to one side to make room for him. “I think we both know I’m no lady.”
“How could I forget? You’re a princess.” But there was no bite in his voice as he joined her. “How long until one of the delinquents comes running in with an emergency, do you think?”
Her eyes were already closed. “Not long enough. Get some sleep, Bellamy. While we still can.”
-------------------------
The sun was fully up by the time Bellamy woke. Stretching out his arms, he was mildly surprised to find the other side of the bed empty and cold, but couldn’t immediately remember why. He didn’t remember bringing a girl back last night, after he’d been relieved of his watch by Wells and —
Right. Clarke.
He ducked out of his tent, trying to ignore a twinge of disappointment, and immediately caught sight of her blond hair, the brightest thing in camp. (Okay, clearly he had gotten more than enough sleep if his brain was making sappy observations like that. Think tougher thoughts, like how to track deer, or the state of the food supply.)
“Look who’s rejoined us,” Wells said cheerfully as he approached. “I’d ask how you slept, but, well, Clarke was there. So I don’t want to hear any details about how you crazy kids spent the night.”
She kicked him in the ankle without even turning to look. “Shut up. You know it wasn’t like that.”
“I find it difficult to believe you guys managed not to get into another argument for more than a few hours, but if you say so.” Still grinning, he stood up and handed the ration pack they’d been sharing to Bellamy. “I’m going to go make sure Jasper and Monty aren’t blowing anything important up, then I’ll go see if Raven could use an extra pair of hands with those ‘camp defense devices.’ And that she doesn’t blow anything important up. You guys can handle the rest of camp, right?”
Bellamy took a handful of berries before passing the pouch back to Clarke, and they ate in silence for a few moments before she got to her feet too. “Monroe’s bandages need changing, and I want to check on Harper’s cough. Probably just a cold or something, but hopefully it’s not getting any worse or spreading to the others.”
Bellamy nodded. “Any particular plants you need while the scavenging party’s out?”
That familiar little furrow between Clarke’s brows put in an appearance as she thought it over, and Bellamy had to resist the urge to reach over and smooth it out. Thoughtful princess. “I think we’re fine,” she said finally. “We could always use more of all the usual stuff if you happen to come across it, but we’ve got a pretty good supply to work with, so you don’t need to go out of your way or anything.”
“Alright. See you in a bit, then.”
As he turned to go round up their best scavengers and trackers, Clarke called his name softly.
“Yeah, princess?”
“Just — be careful.”
He winked. “Always am.”
-------------------------
The sun was directly overhead when the scavenging party returned, as Clarke discovered when she popped outside for a bit of fresh air. She was just in time to see the last of the group come through the gate: leaning heavily on Miller, brow knitted in what was probably pain, clearly favoring one leg.
“Damn it, Bellamy,” she muttered, forcing herself not to run to meet them.
To her overanxious mind, it felt like ages before they finally reached the tent that was serving as the short-term infirmary. Most of the returning hunter-gatherers had already scattered to put away their bounty or catch up with friends or sneak a nap, though Miller stayed, of course, as did Myles and a few others.
“It’s worse than it looks,” Bellamy started, then winced as Miller jostled him — probably on purpose, judging from the warning glance he darted at Clarke — and stopped talking altogether when he met Clarke’s eye.
She didn’t say anything to him, though; her gaze stayed determinedly on Miller now that she was sure Bellamy would live through whatever idiocy he’d gotten himself into now. “I can take him from here.”
“No, you can’t.” Before she could protest, Miller added, “He’s even heavier than he looks.”
That almost got a smile out of her, but unfortunately for Bellamy she managed to resist. All was silent as Miller helped him inside and onto an examination table, then left hastily.
Finally Clarke addressed him — his ankle, specifically. “I can’t believe you got hurt during a scavenging mission. What happened to ‘It’s so low-risk I’d let Octavia come along’?”
“It’s just a sprain or something.” Bellamy winced as she prodded at his injury.
Pausing to throw him an unimpressed look, Clarke sighed. “Who’s the medical expert here, me or you?”
Bellamy conceded the point with a dramatic sigh. “All right, Dr. Princess. Carry on.”
Being Clarke, though, she couldn’t just let it go. “I told you to be careful, too.”
“You know that I don’t take orders from you. What’s the big deal, anyway? I just slipped on some ice.”
“It is a big deal.” Furious as her words were, Clarke’s hands remained gentle as she wrapped the injury. “Do you know how worried I was when I saw that you couldn’t even walk through the gate by yourself? Not only would we be down a hunter and a sentry, the kids listen to you and follow you like they wouldn’t do for me and Wells alone, and I don’t know what we’d do if —”
“Hey.” Bellamy laid a gentle hand over hers. “Why this all of a sudden, Clarke? Nothing’s changed since we landed.”
When Clarke finally tied off the bandage and got up to put away the surplus, Bellamy let her go, patiently waiting for an answer that never came.
Instead, she just said flatly, back still turned to him, “You’re right, nothing’s changed. Never mind. Just try not to die on us this week, doctor’s orders,” and went to check on the other patients.
-------------------------
After a few minutes of searching, it finally occurred to Bellamy to try Raven’s tent. (He blamed it on the pain — it was duller, now that his ankle had been set, but still very much present. Never mind that a minor injury had never before majorly impacted his higher functions.)
“Jaha.” He was relieved to find the other boy sitting with their resident mechanic/genius; they were definitely flirting, so he felt a little bad for interrupting, but he was having a bit of a crisis and their situation, being in much better condition than his own, could wait a few minutes.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Though Wells’ response was amiable as always, Raven was glaring daggers that would’ve made Bellamy fear for his life if he wasn’t already anxious about being — for some inexplicable reason — in hot water with Clarke, which was the whole reason he was here.
He briefly considered trying to get Wells alone, but it felt like the kind of problem that could use input from multiple people. (These were also the best two people for this problem, come to think of it; Clarke’s two closest friends, and his too if he was being totally honest.) “So listen, the princess has been pissed at me all afternoon. Did something happen while I was gone?”
Whatever response he was expecting, the exchanged eye roll and identical Are you serious right now? looks were definitely not it.
“Oh, you poor asshole.” Raven sighed. “You still haven’t realized it, have you?”
“What?”
The sympathy in Wells’ expression was possibly worse than the mockery in Raven’s. “That Clarke’s in love with you.”
“No, she’s not,” he said automatically, then paused. Their theory would kind of explain a lot of things.
“So. Now you know. What are you going to do about it, O fearless leader?” Raven raised an eyebrow at him.
Bellamy opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t think —”
“Don’t think.” Wells pushed him toward the door. “Just do something.”
-------------------------
Clarke was up on the wall, of course, which was luckily the first place he’d thought to look. (Or, well, he’d meant for it to be the only one: it would’ve been a good place to sulk/consider his next move when he didn’t find her.) She didn’t turn around despite his attempts to make extra noise as he approached, so that he wouldn’t startle her out of whatever thoughts she was lost in — what he wouldn’t give to know what went on in that brilliant mind — or set her on edge before he’d even gotten a chance to figure out what to say.
But she seemed to read it on his face even before he had composed any kind of coherent declaration. “You talked to Wells. And maybe Raven?” She searched his face, and the corner of her mouth quirked up. “Definitely Raven. And they told you.”
It all seemed too easy. “Yeah, they did.”
“And?” Clarke’s expression was inscrutable, and it was making him nervous even though one might argue he held the advantageous position here.
“And … I feel the same way.”
She blinked. And — was that another smile he’d glimpsed? “You agree that we should let the kids choose to specialize instead of learning how to do all the different duties around camp?”
“What? No, I —” He was about seventy percent sure she was just teasing, but it was hard to tell with Clarke sometimes, and there seemed to be so much at stake. He couldn’t mess this one up. “What I meant was —”
Of course, Clarke refused to bail him out; she only cocked her head curiously, though now he was all but certain she was on the verge of a smile.
“I love you too. I couldn’t do this without you, and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”
Definitely grinning now, she leaned up on tiptoe to kiss him — just a brief press of her lips before she pulled away, but she let him hold her close after. “We can’t forget about Wells, though.”
Relieved, he leaned his cheek against the top of her head. “Of course not. Where would we be without him?”
-------------------------
The sun had gone down, and most of the delinquents were gathered around the campfire.
“Triumvirate,” Bellamy said quietly, finally hitting on the word that had eluded him for weeks.
Wells glanced over at him. “What?”
Of course, Clarke had caught on immediately. “Trio of leaders. Historically all-male, by the way.”
“Which just makes our princess that much more special,” Bellamy teased, and she actually smiled at that, which in turn made the corner of his mouth quirk up.
Clarke settled in against his side. “As long as you know it.”
W H A T
→ user posters
→ archive moodboards
→ french name aesthetics (idea credits to @timeship)
H O W
→ must be following me
→ reblog this post please
→ send me an ask with what option you go for (more info under the cut)
→ you can also enter my birthday page (more info)
→ blocklist “cam celebrates” if you don’t want to see this
1/ User posters: examples here
► send me your name and your aesthetic (things you like, things that represents you, fav colors, activites, try keepin fandom related stuff to the minimum)
2/ Archive moodboards: I go into your archive and make a moodboard from your posts
► nothing in particular
3/ French name aesthetics: you give me your name and I make a list of aesthetic words in French
► send me your name and tell me if you need a translation
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 5/?
Fandom: The 100 (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Wells Jaha, Bellamy Blake & Octavia Blake, Bryan/Nathan Miller
Characters: Clarke Griffin, Bellamy Blake, Wells Jaha, Octavia Blake, Raven Reyes, Nathan Miller, Bryan (The 100), Gina Martin, Cage Wallace, Abby Griffin, Marcus Kane, Roma (The 100), Jasper Jordan, Monty Green
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, She's All That AU, Breaking the Fourth Wall, fuck ton of tropes, but enjoyable tropes, Banter, snarky bellarke, Awkward Clarke, Bellamy makes mistakes, Emotional Growth, Preceded by dickish behavior, Clarke isn't hideous, and LBR neither was Laney Boggs, Remove Glasses to Reveal Hot Girl, AKA Makeover via Glasses Removal, Season three Blakes not welcome here, Octavia is a good sister, Wells is the best, Cage is a fucking tool, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Rating will go up, Eventual Smut
Summary:
Cage nudges Bellamy with his elbow, "You said you wanted a challenge. Clarke is a challenge." That's for damn sure.
Bellamy relents. "Clarke Griffin. Prom queen... Six weeks."
-OR-
She’s All That. But like, Bellarke. (AKA these idiots reenact My Fair Lady).
Chapter 5:
Bellamy feels a smile settle on his face when he sees Clarke dancing, carefree and happy between Raven and Gina. Octavia’s makeover did its job and she's hot as hell. The entire party has taken notice of the stunning blonde, and he should be reveling in his success. But he has a feeling that the lightness in his chest is due to something else entirely.
Thank you @bilexualclarke for being such a kickass beta!
you'll always be the one that keeps me crazy inside
for @bellsblake! happy birthday hannah <3
fluffy high school prom au, friends to lovers with a bit of fake dating ;)
rated: teen+
[ read on AO3 ]
Clarke often teased Bellamy by saying that he could read through anything, that it would take the book spontaneously combusting in his hands to startle him out of his literary worlds, but it was clearly not true. Case in point: he looked up now as she stormed into his living room, scowling at her phone.
“What happened?” he asked, carefully bookmarking his page before setting the novel aside. This had all the makings of a minor crisis, and he wasn’t sure yet whether to be more concerned for his best friend or whatever (whoever?) had pissed her off. No one could hold a grudge like Octavia, but no one could plot revenge like Clarke and that was scarier, in his opinion.
“Prom.”
“I thought you and Raven decided to go together after you found out Collins was a two-timing bastard. Something go wrong?”
“Luna asked her, and she said yes. I’m happy for her, of course,” Clarke added hastily. “You know she’s had a bit of a crush on Luna for years, and they’re really cute together. But I don’t want to go alone, and I don’t want to third-wheel them. Plus Finn’s been trying to get me alone — he just won’t take the hint that I don’t trust that ‘this time I’d be his one and only,’ nor do I want to be — and I don’t feel like dealing with that all night.”
Bellamy sensed a scheme coming. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Sitting up slightly, Clarke looked him directly in the eyes with an expression he knew all too well.
“Oh, hell no. Don’t drag me into another —”
“Please, Bellamy? I need you.”
“I said no, princess.” And it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, considering she was giving him that look and saying a line straight from his guilty fantasies.
“Okay, I didn’t want to play this card, but … you do still owe me for giving your sister the girl talk so you wouldn’t have to. And I’ll pay you fifty bucks.”
He groaned, knowing she had him there. “Is this your formal asking? I thought promposals were supposed to be fancy.”
“I’ll make you a poster tonight.” Issue settled, Clarke flopped comfortably against him — he hoped she couldn’t feel how fast his heart was pounding; after being friends for so long, he really should have better control over his physiological reactions to her proximity, but his princess just had that effect. “In the meantime, what are you watching on Netflix?”
The Princess [crown emoji]
Meet me outside Kane’s classroom after school?
I’ll be there.
As luck would have it, Bellamy was held up on his way to meet Clarke for what he was eighty-percent sure was a ridiculously extravagant promposal.
“Hey man, do you have the soccer practice schedule? I might’ve lost mine.”
“Might have? How do you — Actually, I don’t want to know. Look, Murphy, I’ve got to run; message me later and I’ll send you a copy.”
To Bellamy’s surprise, Murphy moved to block his path. “Do you think promposals are too sentimental?”
“What?” (Was John Murphy blushing?)
“I was thinking about asking Emori, but I dunno if she’d think it was too — never mind. You don’t care.”
“Murphy. Hey, listen to me. Anyone can see the way Emori looks at you, and the way you look at her. The way you gravitate toward each other. You should ask her.”
“Huh.” Murphy looked thoughtful, and Bellamy was about to try again to get past him when Murphy’s phone chimed. Pulling it out from his back pocket, he glanced at the screen and grinned. “Anyway, I’ll get out of your way now. You’ve got your own promposal to worry about.”
And with that he was gone, leaving Bellamy wondering how Clarke had managed to recruit him before he remembered that she was waiting for him, and he’d much rather be wherever she was.
When he rounded the corner of the history wing, naturally the first thing he noticed was the glee in Clarke’s posture, all but bouncing up and down behind the poster she was holding up.
“You may BE LLAMe, but You’re my choice for a prom date.” He shook his head. “That’s pretty awful, even for you.”
“That’s not a no,” she pointed out, as if there were ever a question. “So, prom?”
It was then that Bellamy noticed the small crowd around them. He might not be very popular, but Clarke was; and in any case, prom askings always managed to draw a fair amount of attention. (It was something Clarke herself had complained about before, the peer pressure to say yes just because so many people were watching.) Among the gathered students was a disappointed-looking Finn Collins, who looked as though he wanted to object but wasn’t sure how to justify himself if he did.
“Of course, princess,” Bellamy said, instead of commenting on any of these observations, and staggered back a step when Clarke threw her arms around him. “You know I was joking about the promposal,” he murmured in her ear, gratified to feel her shiver and squeeze him tighter.
“You know, I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type. Just goes to show you that you can never tell what kind of person someone is, I guess.”
“Excuse me?” True to Clarke’s prediction, Finn Collins had been glowering in their general direction for much of the night. The surprise was that he was confronting Bellamy instead of Clarke, who was in the bathroom, and that he was doing it in the middle of the event. “Since when have we been BFFLs?”
“Haha, very funny. Seriously, did you blackmail her? Bribe her?”
It took him a second to figure it out. “Wait, you think I made Clarke come to prom with me?”
“Well, yeah! Why else would she be here with you, of all people?”
“Meaning, not with you?” Bellamy guessed, fighting the urge to snicker. Clearly Collins didn’t know Clarke nearly as well as he’d like to think, if he seriously believed what he was saying. “It may come as an unpleasant surprise to you, but we’re —”
“— dating,” Clarke cut in smoothly, tucking herself under Bellamy’s arm. “Bye, Finn.”
As they walked away, leaving him gawking in disbelief, Clarke sighed. “Sorry, I just figured that would be the most effective way to get him to shut up. Anyway, dance with me?”
“I don’t dance.”
“What, you don’t want to join our fine classmates in middle-school style swaying back and forth with room for Jesus in between us?”
“Tempting, but no thanks. How about we get a drink instead?”
She laughed at his half-joke, which was pretty good considering the most he’d hoped for was a half-smile. “You hate everything they’re serving. Plus, Monty and Jasper didn’t come, so odds are the punch isn’t spiked.”
“Damn, there go my plans for the night.” Clarke’s grin, Bellamy decided then and there, was the best thing he’d ever seen. Her happiness was contagious, as intoxicating as any alcohol or drug, and perhaps it was the source of the courage that allowed him to say, “You know you’re my favorite person?”
“Same for you.”
“No, listen.” He disentangled himself from her so he could make eye contact, needing her to understand. “I know you told Collins we were dating to get him to leave you alone because he was making you uncomfortable, and I’d never want you to feel like that with me. You know I’ll respect your boundaries, that if you say no I’ll back off immediately, and —”
“Bellamy, breathe.” She placed a gentle hand on his chest, right above his heart. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
The anticipation in her eyes — at least, he was pretty sure that’s what it was — gave him hope.
“Clarke, will you go out with me?”
If her amused smile was radiant, the expression she wore now was positively incandescent. “Of course. And for the record, I’ll never want you to leave me alone. I want to spend eons with you, Bellamy Blake.”
His own grin was probably ridiculous, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “That’s good, I was really worried you’d —”
She cut him off by pressing her mouth to his, still smiling, and she tasted like joy.
