Word Count: 2,757
Rating: M
Pairing: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Warning: lemon, candle kink
Summary: Day dreaming never hurt anybody, so Clarke deemed it save to try again. But then again she should have paid more attention to the fact that there was a big difference between fantasizing and hallucinating. Who knew that along the way she would end up figuring that she had the hots for Bellamy? Not her that's for sure.
AN: Basically, I needed something to explain my sudden desire to write a Bellarke smut with. And well, the jobi nuts came in hand. And the rest is self-explanatory. Thanks, Ro! Read, review, enjoy!

Not so nuts

Clarke glanced one more time around to check her preparations – the bed was made and additional blankets were sitting on a chair close by, the candles were glowing with soft gold light and illuminated the dark space, her jacket was thrown over a dusty chair.

She had slipped from the camp and was back in the bunker Finn had found.

On the table her bag sat open; a jar full with green nuts poked its head innocently from behind the zipper. Jobi nuts.

She had been meticulously in her effort to get rid of everything that could potentially hurt her and she had locked all the items up in one of the storage cupboards. After all she didn't want to risk pointing something dangerous at her face again. One rifle was more than enough. She had been lucky that she hadn't pulled the trigger by mistake.

Who knew that hallucinating was such a hard job?

Clarke flopped on the bed after checking if the hatch was tightly shut, which it was, and focused on the nuts. She had no idea what the effect would be if she was to consume them less than twenty-four hours since her last dose. But judging by the time the hallucinating took to kick in last time and the not very long duration of it, Clarke deemed it safe to try again.

The risk of her getting a bad reaction and getting stuck in a nightmare situation or worse was around fifty percent. The possibility of seeing her dad once more was worth betting on the other fifty.

And that was the reason why she chased away any doubts from her mind and started chewing on the nuts. Her father, she had to see him. Their conversation had been cut short because of Dax and while she was aware that her dad had been nothing but an apparition made up by her sub-consciousness, Clarke was feeling insecure and anxious and she needed somebody to tell her that everything was going to be alright in the end.

The people in the camp counted on her to lead them and she wouldn't be able to do that if she continued to feel this hesitant and victimised. Finding out that her mother was the one responsible for the death of her dad was a blow to her confidence and to her simple understanding about how the world functioned. The added drama after they crash-landed on Earth wasn't helping either. But as there were no books here to tell her how to cope with that, how to overcome her insecurities, she was stuck doing it this way – eating jobi nuts while hoping that she would be able to hallucinate about her father again.

And didn't that sound like passage from a bad written novel.

After consuming half of the jar's contents, Clarke laid back on the bed and waited for the nuts to take effect.

And then things started to get weird.

Clarke blinked her eyes open and frowned at the light – it was as if the candles had doubled and the bunker looked a lot more homely all of a sudden. But that might have been due to the fact that apparently she had fallen asleep, or so it seemed. Her mind was a labyrinth of useless thoughts and her memory turned out to be a black hole, she had no memories of her hallucination or of her dad. She sat slowly at the edge of the bed and pulled at her tangled hair in frustration. She had had such high hopes about her idea succeeding that this lack of result of any kind was a bitter disappointment she could do without.

"Ah, the sleeping beauty is finally up." The unexpected voice made her jump and she hit her left kneecap in the sitting close by chair.

"What the fuck?" Clarke's heart was running a marathon and she raised her gaze to see Bellamy smirking at her. "Bellamy?" She sounded as surprised as she felt. Million questions per second flooded her head.

"And here I thought that I will have to kiss you to wake you up." Clarke pinched herself, it hurt. She wasn't dreaming.

"Bellamy?" He rolled his eyes at her and dragged the chair her jacket was still resting on closer. After a quick swipe to get most of the dust off he sat down and turned to face her.

"That's my name." He was mocking her, the nerve of him.

"How did you get in? Scratch that, how do you know about this place?" Clarke was extremely baffled and her poor mind was disoriented by the illogical situation.

"You were gone for more than twelve hours, princess. The whole camp went looking for you. We thought that the Grounders had gotten their hands on you." Clarke winced; maybe she should have told somebody about her intentions. "Finn told me about this place and I decided to check it out. And imagine my surprise when I found you here, sleeping soundly without a care in the world." There was a healthy dose of accusation in his voice and Clarke didn't blame him for that.

"You have anything to say in your defense?" And as she was about to open her mouth to try and fix the absurd situation, Bellamy looked around the bunker and his eyes landed on the table and more specifically on the half-empty jar of nuts.

His eyes darkened in what Clarke recognised as anger and his hand clenched around the jar. "Tell me that this is not what I think it's about. Tell me that you haven't consumed more of these nuts on purpose."

Clarke bit her lower lip and nodded her head in confirmation. It was the truth and she didn't want to lie; besides, he was smart enough to not believe her. And maybe it had been stupid of her to eat them.

The jar took a short flight and met the wall with a harsh cracking sound. Countless small pieces of glass flew in all directions and landed on the dusty floor; the candles made them look like tiny fire gems.

"Damn it, Clarke!" Bellamy pushed his chair back in irritation and stood in front of her, his body tight with tension and barely controlled rage. "You're supposed to be smarter than this."

Clarke straightened her back and lifted her chin to look Bellamy in the eyes. Yes, what she had done might have been stupid and daring and a foolish risk, but she had her reasons for doing it, the blame rested sorely on her shoulders.

"It was something I had to do." He didn't like her answer at all; his jaw clenched and Clarke noticed the way the muscles pulled tight courtesy of the candle light. "I had to see him."

After the incident last night they hadn't discussed in detail what they had respectively hallucinated about but they both had a general idea of what had happened to the other.

"He's dead, Clarke. What you saw last night was not real. You could have died from an overdose for all we know."

"But I didn't." He was right, she knew that, but Clarke didn't appreciate being boxed in. The hurt from her failure was still fresh and her disappointment and resentment were growing with every minute. "Why the hell do you care anyway? If I happen to die I'll be doing you a favour." Her heart clenched with pain and she regretted her words the moment they left her mouth. Bellamy and Clarke, they had gone a long way from hating each other's guts and Clarke liked to believe that they had reached some sort of an understanding.

And just now she spat on that silent respect they had for each other.

His expression was an unreadable mess of emotions. Before she could try and apologise for the second time that evening (or was it morning already?), something in him snapped and he lost any resemblance of control.

Clarke didn't even have time to comprehend the fact that she had been pushed back to lay on the bed because Bellamy was on top of her and was kissing her and her mind gave up on functioning. She tried to push him off, to stop him, but all she accomplished was a whimper of need when he pulled back to let her breathe. Everything was in a haze, which was the only explanation for her half-assed struggle. Why else would she find Bellamy's face bathed in the soft glow of the candles heart stopping? From where else would the ridiculous thoughts about wanting him from the beginning come from?

Clarke blamed it all on the jobi nuts.

"Never say that again. You matter to me." Her response was lost in his lips and Clarke happily accepted defeat.

Their kisses gradually slowed down and became deeper, more delicious, more addicting. Every new touch of their mouths, every twirl of their slick tongues sent shivers down Clarke's back and ignited little sparks of excitement in her core. Suddenly the room felt warmer and Clarke pushed her hands under Bellamy's shirt and took it off, she wanted to fest her eyes on his form. And she did.

Clarke licked her lips in approval – she had seen his naked chest before but it was a whole different thing when it was all for her, when she could touch and lick and scratch and do whatever the hell she wanted. She had no explanation where this sudden desire to mark him as her own came from, but she didn't plan on stopping to think about it rationally either. It was what she wanted at right this moment and she was going to have it while she still could.

He took off her clothes slowly, piece by piece as if unraveling a precious gift. The more she urged him to go faster, the more he teased her – lips, teeth, tongue. He was inflicting sweet, sweet torture on her wanting body and the smug bastard loved every desperate whimper, every moan of disappointment, every gasp of his name.

Her blood was flammable liquid waiting to be set on fire and consume her whole being. But Bellamy stubbornly refused to light her up and his feathery touches only served to show her what it could be while still teasing her senses to overload. A particularly light touch on her ribs had her arching up, her erect nipples brushed his hard chest and Clarke shuddered in pure pleasure. Bellamy kissed her lips fleetingly and focused on her neck. His teeth were scrapping her sensitive skin and when his teeth sank in her heated flesh Clarke was sure she was going to die from the pleasurable sensations he was introducing to her body. But what an ending that would be!

"Bellamy." Her voice was an unrecognisable breathy mess of letters. She tugged on his hair in attempt to hurry him up. "No more teasing." His dark chuckle against her skin did funny things to her insides. His brown eyes were dark with amusement and lust when they met hers, and his pupils were blown out of proportions. She had caused that and the knowledge was the strongest aphrodisiac she could have stumbled upon.

He moved up to devour her lips hungrily and nestled his body between her eager legs; the harsh material of his trousers dragged along the sensitive sides of her inner thighs and brushed teasingly against her most sacred place. She could fell his hard length pushing against the restricting material and she lifted her hips and grinded against it. Their moans intertwined and Bellamy pushed back harder. His hands lifted hers above her head and before she could do anything about it he had tied them to the metal railing of the bed.

She tugged on the restrains but whatever he had used held strong and her hands stayed tied. "What?" she had to try twice before the words left her throat and even then they were no louder than a whisper.

Bellamy just smirked at her and pulled back. He reached for something behind him that Clarke couldn't see but when he turned around Clarke's heart picked up the pace. He had one of those long dinner candles she remembered seeing in the few romance movies that made it to the Ark and it was lit. The flame danced happily and behind it she could see the mischievous grin on Bellamy's face.

Before she could protest against it, Bellamy tipped the candle carefully to one side and they both watched with fascination as one big drop of hot liquid wax separated from the candle and fell on Clarke's skin, little above her bellybutton. The burning sensation was painful at first but the wax dried almost instantly and the spot where it had fallen tingled. Another drop followed the first one a second later and Clarke gripped her restrains. Pain mingled with pleasure and she both hated and anticipated every next drop. And there were a lot of them. Bellamy steadily made his way to her breasts and she screamed when he dropped wax on her right nipple. He lowered his head to softly blow on the abused flesh and then repeated the action on her other nipple.

Clarke threw her head back and clenched her legs around Bellamy's hips. Her whole body was shaking, literally. The skin under the already dry wax was pulled tight and with every breath she took Clarke was reminded how it got there. The bitter-sweet sensation of hot pain turned her into a mindless creature; slave to Bellamy's every whim.

The sound of drawn down zipper made her open her eyes, Clarke wasn't aware she had even closed them at some point, and she let a sigh of relief when Bellamy kicked off his pants. It was about bloody time. He didn't even check to see if she was ready; he pushed straight in and slid home as if he belonged there.

It was brilliant; Clarke was aware of every twitch his cock did inside of her, every harsh breath he let out against her ear; the way his hands clenched her hips in an iron grip and when he finally moved, the way he controlled her every move and always kept her one step away from her impending orgasm.

He tortured her just as he had with the candle moments ago and with his barely-there touches before that. And it was slowly driving her insane.

Bellamy never changed his slow pace, his hands explored her sweaty body, squeezed her breasts and travelled up her shoulders and her arms until his fingers interlaced with hers. Not once did his gaze waver from hers and when he finally granted her the sweet release she craved so much, Clarke blacked out with his dark eyes imprinted in her mind.

She woke up disoriented for the second time that night. Her body was heavy with sleep and Clarke felt too relaxed to leave the bed. She opened her eyes and saw the soft glow of the candles and the pleasure-filled memories made her smile in contentment.

She had slept with Bellamy and even though it had been totally unlike her and out of the blue, it felt so good that she had no regrets.

And thinking of Bellamy – Clarke turned her head to the right and… was greeted by an empty bed.

What?

She sat up instantly and the sound of rustling clothes made her look down – she had all of her clothes on. A quick survey of the room confirmed her fears. Everything was in order and judging by the length of the candles, she hadn't been out of it as long as she had thought and definitely not for twelve hours.

Clarke wanted to scream from sheer frustration and she did. The bunker was empty.

She knew that she had to go back to camp before they really figured out that she was gone, but first she needed to come to terms with this.

She had hallucinated about Bellamy.

Naked Bellamy Blake with whom she had sex. Extraordinary sex.

Not to mention her now not so secret wish to be dominated and her twisted candle kink.

The stickiness between her legs didn't help her mood at all.

Clarke had the hots for Bellamy.

And what a way to figure that out…

The jobi nuts twinkled innocently at her from their place on the table and Clarke glared at them.

Never again.

Reviews make me a happy Bellarke writer! ;D

- M.