Too Much Fun

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

It was Unity Day and while it wasn't exactly Bellamy's favorite holiday, it was a reason for celebration. They had already been through so much, and lost so many people, then it was good to just relax for a little bit. The Ark would be here in a couple days time and when they came, the party would be over. The others would assume their role of authority, and they would start to lose theirs. So why not enjoy it while it lasted.

Clarke had told him that he deserved to have some fun, and he had said he would when the Grounders came. But . . . she was right. Why not unwind at least a little bit? Everyone else was. He would just mingle a little, but as long as he had his guard raised, it would be fine. He made his way to where the drinks were and asked for two.

As it was being poured, he looked around, scanning the crowd for his co leader of the group. When he saw her he turned back to pick up the drinks and gave a small nod of gratitude. Making his way over to Clarke he extended one of the cups to her. "Thought I would take your advice," he said with a bit of a smile. "Cause like you said, we do deserve to have a little fun," he added on. "Cheers." He lightly hit his cup with hers before taking a large gulp.

[Clarke Griffin]

Clarke for the most part understood Bellamys reservations against enjoying themselves. But he deserved to let loose a bit. He was on the edge all the time, much like her. Now they have a bit of a reason to celebrate and have fun and that was good. She didn’t think they should get wasted, god no, but a drink or two couldn’t hurt, could they? Dancing, celebrating and having fun couldn’t hurt, they could still fight back should they be attacked. As long as they knew and minded their limits, no harm could come from letting go a bit. 

And apparently her co-leader finally agreed to it. At least that’s what she concluded when he came to her and gave her a drink. Clarke accepted it with a grateful nod, taking a sip as he told her how she was right. 

“Good choice, Bellamy. We do deserve that. We can have fun and be alert at the same time.” The drink could hardly knock them out. She hit his cup right back before drinking as well, smiling lightly over the edge of the cup. To her surprise it wasn’t as bitter as she expected. It was almost sweet, fruity. “Mh – this is actually good! What is it?”

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Fun and alert at the same time. He liked the sound of that. It was definitely doable for the two of them. "I couldn't agree more," he told her as he took another chug of the surprisingly delicious beverage. She then asked what it was. Bellamy leaned toward her, parting his lips to answer. "I have no idea," he admitted in a low voice as an amused expression formed on his face. "But it's pretty damn good," he added on, taking another drink.

"And it's definitely doing the trick of helping to relax." He was already feeling himself become more at ease. It felt good to just, smile. And it was even better to see her smile. Whatever they had prepared for this celebration, Bellamy had to give it to them that they did a good job. His eyes then went to a slow growing group of people who were starting to dance to music they had created themselves. "Much of a dancer, princess?" He asked her teasingly as he looked at her once more.

[Clarke Griffin]

It was more than pretty damn good. It was fantastic. Clarke could not even stop sipping from it, nor did she want to. I tasted great, better than anything else she had tasted here. And it had a very calming effect. As her pulse settled, she couldn’t help but smile. This was what she meant. They needed fun, they needed to let go, to allow their bodies to relax, let go of the tension, work out the tension. He needed to work that out. He was always so tense, how could that not hurt? How did those muscles not lock up and cause him pain? Or did they? She had to… ask him or at least wanted to until he asked her if she was a dancer. No she wasn’t. But… she really wanted to dance with him. What the hell? Closely. Where the hell did that come from? What the hell did it matter? Why the hell was she giggling?

“Do you want to find out, Bellamy? Come and find out if I dance. Dance with me. Now! And later. Dance with me!” At this time a part of Clarke still registered that this was not her normal behavior, but she could just not make sense of where that came from. Nobody else seemed to act out of character. Maybe she was not used to that kind of drink. “Oh Bellamy, Dance with meee.” The hell?


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Bellamy wasn't exactly the dancing type. But then, why had he even brought up the fact that others were dancing? Maybe he just wanted to watch her dance. Yes. That was it. He just wanted to see her move her sensual body. Damn this drink was good. "I don't dance," he stated, though his tone made it seem like he wasn't completely opposed to the idea of dancing with her. He tilted the cup back, finishing the remainder of the drink before tossing his cup to the ground.

He blinked a few times, slightly shaking his head. He felt so . . . weird. A good weird. But just, odd. Different. "Whatever you say, Princess," he said with a smile. "How do you plan to dance with a drink though?" A hint for her to finish it so that they could get right into it. Why was he even doing this? Just a drink, that was what he decided . . . and yet here he was, looking forward to dancing with her. He took a step toward her, standing rather close to her as he fixated his gaze on her face. Everything felt strangely hazy, but he wasn't going to try and understand it. "Ready when you are," he said in a low voice, licking his lips, savoring the taste of consumed drink.

[Clarke Griffin]

“Oh come on.” She almost whined. Wait why? Since when did she whine? She didn’t whine, but she really really wanted to dance with him, to see him dance and to dance herself and generally dance with him. He was way too serious all the time. He had to dance, just dance it out, jump it out. Yes. She had to make him dance it out, with her. Finally though he agreed with her. Just like that drinking up made more than sense. She downed the drink – not easy but she managed it – and turned back to him. “Happy, Bell?” She followed his example to toss the cup to the ground and stepped toward him, her chest pressing against his, licking her lips, not because of the drink but because of this, them and the good feeling the let herself have.  

Clarke put her hands on his sides, starting to gently move with the unfamiliar rhythm. She actually barely cared about it, still she needed to stay in contact, her hands on him feeling like she might die if she let go of him for a single second. Why, though? Not even her soft dance moves separated them for a single second, keeping close, moving almost as one. “God you’re good.” 


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He watched happily as she downed the rest of the drink and then asked if he was indeed happy. "Very," he answered with a grin. He couldn't recall the last time he had smiled so much and found himself quite enjoying it. He then became completely distracted as he watched her tongue run over her lips. Damn. What he wouldn't give for that to be his tongue, gliding along her delicious lips, taking in her taste. Since when did he have such blatant thoughts about Clarke? She was undoubtedly gorgeous, but never had his thoughts been so . . . explicit. So detailed of what he wanted to do with her. Next thing he knew, her body was pressing against his and her body started to sway to the music.

He could quite easily just stand here and watch her, but he found himself wanting to move with her. It started off with small motions, before he fully loosened himself, and swayed his hips a little more. He pressed himself even closer to her, feeling encouraged by her words of how he was good. "So are you," he stated in a low voice, intentionally using the same word she had. He lowered his head a bit, his lips mere inches away from hers as he breathed against her, his body adjusting more and more to the swayed movements as they effortlessly danced to the music.

His hands rested on her hips, ensuring that the lower half of his body remained pressed against hers. One of his hands slowly moved from her hip, to behind her, moving along her rear to her lower back. "Damn you feel good, Clarke," he told her in a low voice, understood only due to the close proximity of their lips. It was as if he had entered another world, not even noticing the fact that they were being watched by the crowd at this point.

[Clarke Griffin]

Part of her actually hadn’t expected him to move, was even happy with him just standing there, letting her move against him, but this was so much better. It felt indescribably good to her, to be so close to him, to be held by him, to have not a damn care in the world. Because why would they? They were the only people in the world, Adam and Eve in paradise, forever. This was perfect, but why was he wearing clothes? Hm, it didn’t matter, she was wearing clothes too. They would need to come off later, yes. 

“So do you, Bellamy. Bell… Bellamy.” She couldn’t help it. It was like she was not in control of her need for fun or her need for him. Clarke stood on tiptoes for a good part supported by clinging to him and by him holding her. God those clothes, what idiot invented them? Anyway she stood there, it almost looked like she was about to kiss his cheek, instead she leaned in to nibble on his earlobe. Only then did she realize how there was no music anymore. “The music stopped.” Why would the music do that? They were dancing. She just wanted to dance and nibble on his ear.

“Rude.” Clarke whispered against him, suddenly finding the word funny, giggling. “Rude. Ruuuuuuuuuuude.” 


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

God she felt good. She looked good. She made him feel good. The warmth of her body was causing a heat to run through his. One filled with desire and need for her . . . in a very physical way. The way she said his name was sweet music to his ears -- more so than the actual music playing. He could dance to her voice alone. Yes. That would be perfect. As if he wasn't already feeling an intense need for her, he felt her nibble his earlobe which caused him to close his eyes at the wonderful sensation.

He titled his head to the side, allowing her better access to it as he nestled his head in the crook of her neck, his lips touching her soft, perfect skin. "Keep going," he encouraged, his lips still pressed against her skin. She was doing things to him, making him feel ways he had never experienced before . . . and he was loving every second of it. Feeling her lips break contact from his ear caused him to move his head back a little to look at her, though a smile still remained on his lips. Apparently the music had stopped. Like hell if he noticed. She was too distracting. He couldn't help but chuckle upon hearing her own laughter. She was saying funny words. "Who says we need music to dance princ-- queen." She wasn't a princess, she was a queen.

"My queen," he added on, leaning forward as he playfully kissed her nose. Resuming their previous position, his continued to sway to the now non existent music, which he intended to rectify. He began to quietly hum a tune that he had heard on the Ark, and when he got through the instrumental introduction, he began to sing the lyrics. He didn't care that they were being watched, or that he had never sung in front of people before. He wanted to feel her move against him again. He wanted to keep touching her. And so, he sang, continuing the heated dance between them as had his forehead practically rested against hers, his hands resting on her waist as one of them slowly slipped under her shirt, moving along her sides now able to feel her flawless skin.

[Clarke Griffin]

Keep going? How when she felt him, his breath, his skin, the electricity between them pressed against her sting? Surely they would melt into each other, if they could. Maybe they could. Maybe they should. God, she wanted to be one with him, right now, right here. “My Dad said…” But of course he had to distract her again with his ridiculous good looks and his face, his locks, his face and words. “Oh, your queen. Does that mean we’re married now?” No matter he gave her the music back, he sung to her, nobody has ever done that. And he could sing. He could sing. And he touched her, underneath her clothes. Skin – on skin.

Clarke felt like nothing mattered anymore and then, she felt the most spectacular thing ever. The ground! It was gone. It was gone. They were flying, hovering, they were actually flying! “Do you feel that? We’re flying. We’re flying. You’re making us fly. We’re…” Clarke moved her hands to his face, wanting to just pull him in for a kiss, a long overdue all consuming kiss, when she felt rough hands pulling her out of his embrace. Without him she could not longer fly. She crashed to the floor. To the bloodstained floor. There was blood. Everywhere. So much blood but no Bellamy. Where was he? 

“Bellamy? No. No! get it off me.” She heard people try to talk to her, they made no sense. Probably Grounders trying to kill her. Was that the blood of their people? Bellamy! She needed him. Was he dead too? Was he still flying? A grounder, with the nastiest face she had ever seen grabbed her by her shoulders, shaking her roughly.

Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

She started speaking about her dad before referring to her newly appointed nickname, questioning if it meant that they were married now. He smiled at the idea. "Hell yeah it does," he stated in full agreement to the idea. "Consider this our first dance, my queen," he added. Flying. Oh she was talking about flying and how right she was! He could feel himself soaring through the clouds with her. It wasn't like orbiting in space, this was something far more . . . magical! Her hands went to his face and he could feel them getting closer, their lips inching toward each other. He closed his eyes, expecting to feel her lips pressed against his . . . when suddenly she was gone.

She slipped through his grasp. Panic filled his as his eyes shot open. He could hear her calling out for him . . . and that's when he saw who it was. Jaha. Bellamy stared at the Chancellor, the man looking as sinister as ever. "No," Bellamy breathed out in defiance. Jaha had taken his mother from him, imprisoned his sister, and now . . . he was going to take Clarke too?! Hell no. "You can't have her," he stated, his voice getting increasingly louder and more stern. "You can't take her from me too!" He yelled out as he charged toward the man. He rammed his head into his chest, tackling him to the ground as his fists started flying across the man's face. Punch after punch after punch. He was like an uncaged animal, the emotions building in him for far too long. He just kept going, and going, until he felt several hands pull him off.

"Get off of me! Get. Off!" He yelled out as he was thrown the ground. He scrambled to his feet, looking around for Jaha but the man was gone. "He got away! You idiots let him get away!" He could see the confused looks, but Bellamy did not recognize the expressions. As quickly as the panic filled him, it was abruptly replaced with amusement as he chuckled. "Well, is this a party or is this a PARTY?!" He called out, expecting everyone to cheer and just resume on with what happened. His eyes found Clarke once again as he hurried toward her, taking her hand in his as he stood protectively near her. "I think I'd like a private dance, my queen," he told her in a low voice, not wanting the lurking Jaha to hear him.

[Clarke Griffin]

Bellamy! He was alive. She saw him, finally, wading through the blood towards where the grounder was shaking her. Suddenly he was off of her. They were on the ground. Clarke saw them punching at each other. She swore the Grounder had weapons. She swore she saw him hurt Bellamy, kill Bellamy. God he was killing him! He was killing her husband, her king! No. That chouldn’t happen. Clarke stumbled, struggled to get up but there was too much blood. She couldn’t get up. “Stop him! He’s killing him! How can you do this? You savages! HELP HIM!” But he won. The grounders blood joined the blood on the floor. The group was with them. Where did they come from? Clarke watched in fascination as the grounder bled out. So this was grounder blood? They won the war against them? They were safe. That’s why it was a party. 

She let Bellamy help her up and steady her, grinned as she saw the blood on him, but he wasn’t hurt. He wasn’t hurt. Clarke pressed against him, finally feeling whole again. “I’d like that, too. But I need to undress first. I’m covered in blood. I must stink.” She reeked probably. And she looked ugly being like that. But he was here, he was safe. “My hero.” Clarke saw Jasper come close to them. She grinned. “Jasper!!!!” she exclaimed. Jasper just nodded, spoke about private quarters and ushered them towards a building. Since when did they have a building?


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

Feeling the warmth of her body against his once more made everything feel normal again. No; better than normal; good. Wonderful. Excellent. She told him that she needed to undress and a smile remained in place on his lips. "What kind of king would I be if I didn't help you with that," he said suggestively, uncaring if others could hear him. He then leaned forward, his lips going to the top of her head as he deeply inhaled, closing his eyes while doing so. When finished, he looked at her with a smirk.

"For what it's worth, you smell incredible," he told her. Hero! She called him a hero and he couldn't help but smile proudly at that. "I'm your hero, baby," he reaffirmed. His words were cut short when Jasper came and told them about private quarters. Why did they need to go to a private place? OH! Right. For a private dance. Well that made sense. Bellamy nodded with a grin on his face as he hit Jasper on the back affectionately, though it must have been hard for the scrawny boy jolted forward.

"Thanks my man." He was looking out for them. They were ushered by him to the drop ship, even opening the door for them. Bellamy turned around to look at Jasper. "You're good people," he told him, his tone a little too amicable than the one he usually took. "Keep an eye out for Jaha. Don't tell him we're here. No more floaters. No more floating." With that, he gave him an overly serious nod, before going inside the drop ship with Clarke, still ignoring whatever gazes were resting on them.

[Clarke Griffin]

Somehow she knew those private quarters, somehow she didn’t. It was weird, not entirely right. To her surprise she felt panic rise in her as they closed the door behind them after Bellamy warned them of Jaha – where had he seen Jaha? Jaha was still in space, wasn’t he? Or was the grounder named Jaha, too? Must suck with such a name. Jaha. Jaha the idiot. A crack fully alerted her of the weight of the situation. The door was close! It was really fully closed, locked. They had locked them in. 

“HEY! Hey! What the hell?” She banged her hand against the door a couple of times, but it would not give. Then again… that meant she was really alone with him, alone to do their private dance. And since they were alone she could peel off the bloody clothes. Without even thinking the young woman shrugged off her jacket, followed by her taking off her shirt, scrubbing over her hands with it. “It won’t come off, Bellamy.” Since he shirt didn’t do the trick Clarke lifted her fingers and licked them clean.


Bellamy Blake

[Bellamy Blake]

Tag: Clarke Griffin

whatever

THE HELL WE WANT

He had no idea where they were. He only even tried opening the door because she was trying to get out. He attempted to push on it but it seemed to be jammed or something. Would they be safer in here? Well, at least they were together. That was always a good thing. His fingers traced the metal of the door as he cocked his head to the side and looked at it curiously. "It feels . . . cold." The words just slipped from his lips without giving them much thought. He then turned to Clarke, hearing her say that it wasn't coming off.

When his eyes rested on her, they remained fully fixated on her. His lips slightly parted as his eyes looked slowly over her, taking in her perfectly formed figure, as she was currently shed of her shirt. She was attempting to scrub something off but all he saw was perfection. He didn't even notice the blood he had on his own hands from the beating, he was too focused on her. As he walked up to her, he only stopped when standing directly in front of Clarke, trying to control himself cause she looked so incredible right now. So tempting. So, delicious.

"Let me help," he told her. He leaned forward, his hand brushing her hair off to the side as his lips found her neck, attempting to kiss away whatever blood was there. He didn't taste any. He only tasted her skin, and found it just as delicious as he assumed it would be. He then lowered himself onto his knees, his lips going to her bare stomach, his tongue dragging along it as his hands went to the fastening of her pants. "Gotta get you out of these clothes," he said against her skin. Isn't that what she had said? He couldn't remember, not did he care.