can't get my mind off you

I can still feel the heat of your hand on my skin.
The way you smiled at me blew me away.
I can still remember the smell of your cologne when you brought me close to your chest.
You made me feel like I was enough. And now I can’t get you off my mind.
—  F.M
The way you held me, the way you kissed me, the way you touched me.
You trapped me.
—  You were a stranger, but now…
Don’t look for someone who just wants to see you past your clothes; look for someone who wants to learn about the person you are underneath your skin, into your soul, right to the very center of your being.
—  I crave you in the most innocent of ways
Friendship on Fire

A birthday present for @blakesdoitbetter, because I know how you feel about fireman!Bellamy, and everyone deserves smut on their birthday ;)

Clarke is pretty used to Bellamy showing up at her apartment at any given time. She lives closer to his station than he does, and sometimes he’s exhausted when he gets off his shifts at weird times, so he drives to Clarke’s place and passes out on her couch, which is admittedly very comfortable.

She doesn’t mind. Bellamy’s her best friend, and she likes having him around. Plus, he sees a lot of shit, working for the LA Fire Department, and Clarke knows he needs to decompress after some of it, and he shouldn’t be alone with his thoughts. They watch Netflix or play video games or make food, and she’s happy to be the sunshine he needs after a hard shift.

She gave him his own key after a while, so he can get in right away if she isn’t home at the moment, so she’s not surprised when she wakes up at two in the morning to the sounds of her front door shutting, the deadbolt sliding back into place, and heavy steps ambling around her kitchen.

“Bell, is that you?” she calls.

There’s a pause, then he shouts back “Yes!” but his voice sounds strange.

She rolls over a minute later when she hears him approach her bedroom, and sees him standing in the doorway, a glass of water in hand and a blank expression on his face.

“Hey,” she whispers. She smiles softly, but he doesn’t respond, his face falling into a frown as he avoids her eyes.

“What happened?”

He shakes his head, drags a hand over his face. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She sits up, her covers bunching around her hips.

“Okay.” She nods.

He stares at her for a moment, his face serious and dark.

She reaches her hands out for him at the same time he says, “Can I just—” cutting off with a strangled sound and making it to her bed in a second, settling into her as she lays back and pulls him in.

[read it on ao3]

Caleb who?

I’m unable to process the fact that some of you are willing to throw away the “We’re taking care of him”, “He’s staying with me”, “He’s fucking family”, “I’m worried about you. I love you”, “His partner. Lover? Family”, “Get the fuck off of him”, “Thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit”, the coming out, the protection, the fighting, the shit they’ve been through just to be with each other, the care, concern, love, devotion, sacrifice, forgiveness, will, the love, the love, the love… for a person who is 3 episodes in and is already Ian’s new love interest and supposedly so much ‘better’ for him but doesn’t even know he’s bipolar? Just tell me, how?