You Are Not Alone

[Clarke Griffin]

Had she seen it as a theory that he could make her feel something, that one would have been proven the moment he kissed her back. She felt the fire in him, in her, like the dying embers of their souls brought each other back to life with the heated kiss. Clarke wanted more. She needed more. She needed the fire inside her to turn into an inferno of passion to make her feel alive. She wanted to feel his power, she wanted him to destroy her and built her up with all of this in one move. The sensation of being pressed against his clothed body alone helped the fire along, the fabric scratching against her naked skin.

Clarke closed her eyes at how he touched her back, leaving a trail of tingling electricity and fire behind. She needed more. He could make her feel, make her feel alive and whole. For a moment he could bring her back to life and keep her there for how long it might last. And she wanted it to last. They were safe enough. They had water, they had a certain amount of shelter. It was primal, but she didn’t care. She just wanted him to bring her back to life and put her soul on fire.

“I won’t regret this, Bellamy.” How could she? What was there to regret? To feel alive? To be alive, how could she regret it? She might regret it having to end, when she would ultimately shatter again. That was the moment she might regret, but not this, not him. “You might.” She warned him. After all she did not know if it would have the same effect on him. Clarke pressed herself closer to him, breasts pressing against his chest, hands on his hips as she all but rolled her hips into his, hoping to encourage him more. “I know what I’m doing, Bellamy. I want you. I want you to fuck me, right here, right now. Until we come apart. Do you want that, too?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Clarke assured him that she wouldn't regret this, suggesting that he might. "I know I won't," he confirmed in a low voice. How could he? His feelings for her went deeper than just a mere co leader. And what they had endured together . . . well, perhaps they both needed this. No. They definitely both needed this. To just feel something. Whether it was passion, or euphoria, or anything that could be brought about by physical intimacy. She had told him she was dead, and he'd expressed that mutual state. So maybe, this could make them feel somewhat alive. It was getting increasingly difficult to think of the reasons why they shouldn't do this, especially when Clarke began to press herself against him, rolling her hips into him.

He took in a deep breath, feeling his body start to fill with desire . . . an arousal due to her actions and current state of undress. Her words certainly thickened it. She finished with a question. Did he want that too? He paused, trying to regain his composure. "What do you think?" Was all he could answer with as he captured her lips once again. Screw it. He was tired of overthinking. Tired of making tough decisions. This one seemed like a no brainer after all. He just wanted to be with her . . . wasn't that reason enough?

His kiss was reflective of his need for her, a burning desire for her. His coaxed her mouth open with his own, wanting to taste her, to quench his thirst for her. His hands went to her upper thighs, slightly lifting her and hoped she took the non verbal cue to wrap her legs around him. For when she did, he would properly position her on the ground. He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want logic, or rationality to come into play. He just wanted to act. And right now, he was acting like a man who wanted to be with the beautiful woman before him.

[Clarke Griffin]

If Clarke was being honest with herself – which was the furthers thing from her mind right now – she knew he would regret it, because for her this hook up would not be a random hookup without feelings. She was using him, to make herself feel better, to feel alive and to test waters she knew she could never enter, not fully. While she might want to, she knew it would ruin everything even further. It was too dangerous. But this, this was something she could do. It was something she needed and wanted to do. She needed to feel and if she couldn’t feel alive, she wanted to feel him and the fire he started in her ages ago and was reigniting right now.

It was his kiss, not his words that convinced her he was okay with it. As okay as he could be in this situation. She kissed him back with all the need and passion she had, nipped lightly on his lower lip even as his hands on her thighs prompted her to let him lift her and wrap her naked legs around him. Right then she regretted having held him differently. She should have gone straight to freeing him from his pants and made him start fucking her right there. Clarke knew under any other circumstances she would need him to take his time at foreplay, but right there she didn’t care if she was wet enough for him, if it hurt her, so be it, she would welcome this pain, she even wanted it.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that they probably shouldn't be doing this. They were both vulnerable. But there were no thoughts surfacing. Only emotions. Desire and need for her. And from the way her body reacting, the light nip on his lip, the way her legs wrapped around him . . . nothing indicated that he should stop. He wanted her. He needed her. And he could feel that need quickly turning into a physical ache with the way her center now pressed against his already sensitive region. He lowered her onto the ground, positionining himself on top of her while keeping his lips on hers the entire time. He broke it only for a brief second so that he could remove his shirt, before his mouth hungrily moved against hers again.

His hands hastily went to his pants, unfastening them and pulling them and his underwear down. He should really build up the moment more. He should be making sure she was ready for him, even if it was to minimize any pain. But he couldn't think right now. With the way she had undressed before him, her teasing words and actions . . . he couldn't resist. He swiftly pushed into her, the action causing a strained grunt to fall from his lips. He paused for a moment, basking in the sudden sensation of being inside of her.

He decided to adjust their positions once more, as he moved to sit in an upright position, pulling her up with him so that their bodies remained joined. He adjusted her legs to be on either side of his waist so that she sat astride him. His hands went to her back, pressing her body against him in this new found position. They remained there only for a moment, as his hands then moved lower, to her rear where he pushed her forward as he did the same to his own hips so that she could meet his thrust. He then thrust forward again, and again, moving her hips along with him as his lips hovered over hers, his breathing becoming heavier.

[Clarke Griffin]

Twigs dug into her back as he lowered them to the ground. This was good! They scratched her, made her feel something other than the guilt and pain inside her. They only added to the fire as well. She wanted a bit of pain from this as well, thought she had expressed it by telling him to fuck her, not to sleep with her, have sex with her or make love to her. She wanted pure animalistic sex, rough around the edges. “Come on.” She urged him, trying to make him move faster. For all she cared he could leave his shirt on, but hell, it was so much better without. His body was glorious. She wanted it, all of it. Clarke couldn’t help but touch his chest, now that she lay on her back, feeling the muscle underneath her palms.

The young woman let out a scream as he finally pushed into her. God he was huge compared to Finn and Wells – both dead, but he was alive and warm and huge inside her. He stretched her beyond what she knew to be possible. It hurt, but in the best ways possible, she wanted to cling to that, to him forever or at the very least until this world faded away from them. She let him pull her up so she sat on him, giving her a bit of control as well. She experimentally rolled her hips, guided by his hands. Her moans soon filled the clearing. “Bellamy… I need more.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

This wasn't how he usually engaged in physical relations with a woman. But he wasn't thinking of anything right now. He was just feeling. And what was consuming his entire being was his need for her. Each sound of pleasure she made only hastened and encouraged his actions, hearing her say that she needed more. He shared that same need. He wanted her, completely. His lips went to hers, hungrily kissing her with such fervent desire, coaxing her mouth open as he intrusively explored her with his tongue.

Her delicious taste quenched a burning thirst he hadn't even realized he had until now. His hand fell between them, touching her heated core where he wasn't currently occupying. He wanted to touch every part of her; taste every part of her. The need to breathe overcame him as he eventually pulled their lips apart, breathing against her as her earlier words registered in his mind. "Tell me what you want," he said in a low, breathless voice between each grunt and pant. His lips went to the side of her neck, teasing her skin, caressing it. "Say it to me, Clarke," he added on, wanting to hear her tell him. Wanting her hear her say the words of what she wanted, or how she wanted it. Hell, any sound would suffice at this point.

[Clarke Griffin]

Words were currently lost on her, as she lost herself in the sensations of being with him, of kissing him, of their tongues battling for dominion between them, yet Clarke knew she did not want that. She wanted him to win this. She wanted to lose herself and give up the tension she held for too long now. A low moan escaped her once he touched her core. He really knew what he was doing, didn’t he? Unlike her. 

“You. I want you.” She breathed against him, head now buried against his neck, trying to control herself long enough in order to speak, to tell him exactly what she needed, while still rocking her hips to continue the movement she needed so desperately. “I need you. I need you to fuck me, Bellamy.” Was that enough? Maybe not. Clarke pulled away, stilling her movements, to look into his eyes. “I need you to take me. Hard, fast, I won’t break. Make me forget, that this world exists. Make me forget what we did. Just make the world disappear so only you and I remain. Please.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

With their current position, and her still rocking hips against him, it was difficult to form a single coherent thought. But he had asked a question, and needed to hear the answer. She wanted him, just as he wanted her. The need was also quite mutual, for she had awoken something in him that made him so strongly ache for her. While this wasn't the first time he had engaged in such physical relations, it all felt different. Stronger. Because this wasn't just anyone. This was Clarke. She was telling him to take her; hard and fast; to make her forget that everything existed.

God, he knew that desire all too well. The world around them was shit. A form of hell they had been thrown into and one that no one else would ever understand. Because the others didn't have to do what he and Clarke did. He too wanted to forget, and allow himself to believe that it was only she and him who existed. He looked deep into her eyes, feeling as if he could get completely lost in them. What they did. Their actions, their demons. He didn't want to dwell on it. He just wanted . . . her. That was it. Simple. He wanted her. And hearing her need for it was well was all he required to move forward. He didn't feel the need to say anything, but rather, just act. He was after all more a man of action than words.

He hungrily pressed his lips against hers once more, this time moving forward and causing her to go back down on the ground. It wasn't the most comfortable ground, but at this point, he hardly cared. He regained their former position, as he was on top of her again, one hand falling between their centers while his other brace him up above her. He carefulyl slipped a finger within the folds of her skin, slowing the kiss as he instead just breathed against her mouth, his lips hardly apart from hers. He finger sought out that singular spot within a woman that he had learned from past experiences could provide quite the amount of pleasure when catered to properly. Locating it, he applied a bit of pressure. She wanted to forget, well he could do that by making her mindless with pleasure.

[Clarke Griffin]

As they kept rocking against each other, Clarke found it easier to move with him, to realize those small cues he was giving her and so it was easier for her to reach behind her to steady herself as he moved her to lie back on her back. Once again she welcomed the uneven ground under her, the sticks digging into her skin, adding just this little layer of pain she needed. Clarke was far from being experienced with sex, but right now she just knew what she needed: She needed this layer of pain, anything that really made her feel alive out here, apart from him pumping in and out of her at a steady rhythm, but it was not enough yet. She needed more. It was as if he read her mind, though the action itself was unfamiliar and new to her. With a man like Bellamy the shortcomings of her previous partners were glaringly obvious. Here she was, basically having given him permission to just use her, it was what she wanted, but here he was, reaching between them, setting fire to her that she could not anticipate.

“What… the hell?” she pressed out, barely thinking straight. There was so much she wanted to say, a warning that she would not last much longer if he kept that up. It was another sign at how good he was. Instead of adding another verbal cue she scratched his back. This man was driving her insane and reminding her alive with every second he devoured her. “God you… you’re too much.” Or not enough or. Clarkes mind gave in. Pure pleasure cursed through her, exploded in her. A scream escaped her just before she fell apart, shivering, writhing underneath Bellamy.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Her words only served as encouragement. As did her actions and any involuntarily sounds that came in the height of such passionate activities. When he felt the liquid proof of her enjoyment cover his probing finger, he removed it, wanting to experience that peak of euphoria with her. Hell, he needed her as well. He began to quicken the pace in which he thrusted into her, his desperate need for release prompting his actions and the power of each push into her. She felt incredible.

Her body was the epitome of perfection and Bellamy was basking in every single second he was given to explore it, and be inside of it. His lips went to hers for a deep kiss before resting his forehead against hers, his eyes tightly shut as his heavy breaths released themselves over her lips. His hand went to her chest, massaging her breast, his palm filling with the curve of her extremely well formed body. His throbbing signaled that he was close, but wanted to prolong it just a moment longer to ensure she reached that peak of euphoria as well. Hearing her cry out, feeling it within her, was all he needed before he gave a final thrust accompanied by a heavy grunt, as he found his release inside of her. He relaxed his shoulders, still hovering above her as his head lowered, his forehead against her bare shoulder.

His hand released where where they had been gripping and slowly trailed down her until it casually rested on her hip. It was amazing; she was amazing. Even her scream that filled the otherwise silent air, was music to his ears. It was not a scream like the recent ones he heard . . . of agony and pain. No. It was one of pleasure, that it was one he wanted to forever remember . . . feeling pride in being the one to cause such a reaction from her. The result of their vigorous activities caused him to pant in attempt to catch his breath, basking in the aftermath of their coupling. Itnever felt so good. It never felt so right. And while he'd always known that he needed her . . . he hadn't realized how strong that physical need for her was, until they did this.

[Clarke Griffin]

Any other day his release in her, so long after coming down from the Ark would maybe have sent panic though her. What if…? Bu she found herself no longer caring. A problem like that could be solved with the simple measure of spilling more blood. With how much blood she already spilled, how easy would it be to spill her own? As the blonde came down from the high, she felt nothing. She had hoped this, this moment of passion and ecstasy would help her feel alive again, feel human again. She reached up to kiss him again. At least that helped to feel something in the void she felt. But she couldn’t just make him fuck her all the time, even though it was tempting. Because with him she felt so much. She still felt him, inside her too, but it did not cover the hole inside her, not even remotely.

“We have to build a shelter.” Clarke finally whispered, knowing he would hear her. Her face was once again showing how empty she felt. Thinking technical was good. She knew how that worked. She had had no intention of building a shelter for herself. She would have slept on the floor, without cover or anything, had he not followed her and insisted on coming with her. So they needed shelter. So they needed cover. So they needed food. Thinking technical worked. They needed shelter if they were to stay here. They had the well and waterfall here, sufficient protection from the thick foliage around and potentially fertile ground. “That is if you want to stay here. We could continue on in the morning.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

The silence that followed was much needed, as Bellamy felt his breathing begin to steady, as was his formerly racing heart. His chest slowed, able to take regulated breaths once again. He had no idea what this meant for them. What he did know however was that Clarke was unlike any other woman at camp. She wasn't someone that he could just have sex with and then move on to the next, or pretend like it didn't happen. He had developed a deep emotional connection to her, and perhaps that was what made the act feel all the more powerful; giving him stronger sensations than any other woman ever had.

But . . . he also knew that the circumstances were, complicated. She had wanted this to feel something, and even as he raised his head a little to look into her eyes, he could see the very thing that had made her leave the camp. The emptiness. Her voice broke the silence, speaking logically of needing a shelter, possibly building it here but then asking if he wanted to move on in the morning. "Wherever you go, I'll follow Clarke," he told her, slightly licking his lips after the kiss they just shared. "If you want to stay here, we can. If you want to find somewhere else, we'll go first thing in the morning." Whatever she wanted. Whatever she needed. He lowered his head once again, kissing her cheek before he raised himself, pulling out of her and proceeding to pull his lower layers of clothing on.

[Clarke Griffin]

This was not the reply she hoped for or expected. She had asked him, hoping he would have a preference or an idea. If he would stay with her, they needed direction and she wanted to follow his. He was the one giving up a lot for her, she had no illusions about it. All of this was on her. He had taken the burden against better judgment. He had come with her, all of which she knew was her fault. She was the one who should go by his direction now. Wherever that would take them as long as it did not take her back to the camp. She couldn’t face them, not yet. She was conflicted about things. If he let her decide, Clarke could not see any reason why they should not just stay. It had water, it had space, and it was safe from sight. They could make it safe for the two of them. They could…. Clarke didn’t dare to finish that thought, because this would not last. Maybe in the future she or the camp, could use this place for herbs or… or as a place for them to get privacy.

“Then we’ll stay here and build shelter.” In the morning. They would settle. Maybe building a home here would be what they both needed. Maybe settling and living would make her feel alive. Maybe that would be the solution. But what if it wasn’t? what if nothing, not even Bellamy could heal her from what she had been through? She could only live on, but maybe living was not for her anymore. Maybe living was no what she needed. But what was? “Should we build something tonight I… guess we’ll get cold lying here naked.”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy sat upright, looking at Clarke as she decided that they would stay here. It was a rather good location he had to admit. The water, the clearing, enough concealment to protect them but not too much that they couldn't build upon it. He just gave a small nod in response, already trying to plan out what they would need to do. He wished he had brought more with him. A tent, some proper blankets, things that they could have used. But he didn't want to lose Clarke. He knew the second that he lost sight of her, it would be difficult to find her. She then questioned if they should build something tonight . . . since they would get cold lying here naked.

He wasn't entirely thinking of practicality right now. Not when she was lying there, unclad. His eyes slowly moved over her body, taking in the sight of her beautiful form. She really did epitomize perfection. Comparable to Venus. "Not necessarily," he told her, as his hand went to her stomach, slowly gliding over her body, wanting to feel every inch of her skin.  They could make a fire, they could use each other to keep warm. The thought of sleep wasn't foremost in his mind, but he was starting to realize the exhaustion resulting from the last few days. He was scared to sleep though.

Scared of the images that would haunt him. The pictures of the bodies; the hundreds of bodies that lay there. The fear alone, made him lean over her, kissing her bare shoulder as he needed the distraction. "We could build a fire," he suggested, kissing her collarbone. "Or you could let me hold you," he added on, his lips placing against the front of her neck in a light kiss. He slowly created a trail of kisses up her neck, touching her chin until his mouth found her own and he pressed his lips against hers for a few moments. "I can keep you warm," he offered in a low, deeply whispered voice, hoping he could. Hoping that his arms around her would give her a semblance of comfort. He knew that she could give him that, and so wanted to do the same for her.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke slowly came to the realization of how little she had thought this move through. She had been blind to what the consequences of sleeping with him could be. She could feel his eyes burn into her skin as he looked at her. She felt the touch of his hand against her stomach burn a trail into her skin as if his hand was glowing ember, physically burning her. She knew it wasn’t. It was the awareness of what happened between them, the awareness of his casual touch now. What did it mean? Clarke knew now she should have thought enough to speak about him before she all but begged him to fuck her. His kisses were even more burning, feeling like a fire searing her skin, almost making her want to hiss at the sensation. It was not bad, it was just… she was overthinking things clearly. She did not want to hurt him, did not want to add him to the ever growing list of people she wronged. What if this was wrong? What if it wasn’t? So Clarke let him kiss her body, touch her body. Could it do any harm?

“Okay.” But maybe they should still cover with something. Clarke twisted a little in his embrace, wanting to reach for her jacket, but found she couldn’t. The thing was what she wore when she killed so many people, more than she could possibly put in words or numbers. But they needed a source of warmth or some form of isolation. Clarke found herself turning back around, placing her hand on his chest, shivering, not from the cold but the thoughts. At least his skin was warm, his chest hard, yet strangely comfortable. “I think we need a fire as well. We don’t know how cold it will get and some form of skin will remain exposed even if we hold each other.”

Bellamy Blake