Bellarke One-Shots [A Collection of Stories]

Leaders' First Kiss

{Rain and Sin}

The rain washes, cleans, bathes the soul and revives the deepest part of one's heart. This is Bellamy and Clarke's first kiss. This is their love.

This world was beautiful.

However, it wasn't its beauty that thrilled Clarke - it was the danger, the unknown, the surprise that appealed to her restless spirit. The smell of an approaching storm, the humming of the earth, the brilliance of blue and green hues against subdued browns and greys were merely a backdrop to the planet's narrative. While these things were essential to her story, the Earth was responsible for her own creation - the human mandate for power and pleasure. Often times, the two characteristics go hand in hand and lend themselves to the unknown.

Clarke was never one to shy away from danger or, for that matter, the unknown. Perhaps that is why she had dragged Bellamy away from Arkadia, to appease her natural desire for danger. She had already subjected herself to one too many drinks that night and had convinced Bellamy to do the same. The more she drank the more Clarke felt.

And Clarke knew how to love - to grieve, to hate, more than any human on this Earth. When Clarke loved, she loved with her entire being.

Grabbing Bellamy's hand and entwining his fingers with her own, she raced out into the forest, laughing. Her mind reeled with bright colors and heightened her emotions.

She heard Bellamy give a short laugh behind her and spun around, walking backwards into the night. Thunder roared somewhere in the distance and lightning cracked the sky, illuminating both their faces.

His face, for once in his life, was soft as he gazed down at her, smiled at her - something Clarke never thought she would see.

She slowed and let Bellamy walk towards her. Each step he took, each breath he breathed, not once did he take his eyes off her.

Clarke stumbled on her feet, due not only to the alcohol, but Bellamy's own fervent gaze. He caught her easily, as if she weighed nothing.

Thunder, once more, rumbled and shook the earth. Droplets of water began to cascade down from the sky and soak the forest, slowly at first, then all at once. The trees, the animals, the foliage were all hushed in a quiet anticipation.

With Bellamy's arms wrapped securely around her smaller frame, Clarke could make out every feature, every detail of his face. Each subtle freckle, each cut, each scar, reminded her of space and the universe beyond. She could almost see the stars and asteroids, the comets and moons. Clarke raised a gentle hand and hesitantly traced the contours of his face.

For the first time in her life, Clarke wanted nothing more than to be an astronaut.

. . .

Bellamy stared down at her in wonder as the rain came down in sheets all around them. He dared not move for fear of losing her touch.

Bellamy wanted, no - needed, her closer. With his inhibitions suppressed, he wasn't sure how much longer this restraint could last. Clarke's hands, one pressed against his chest, the other at his cheek, were stirring things within him he did not like - primal things he most certainly didn't want her to see.

Droplets of rain were tangling in her hair, glistening like stars in the night. It ran down her soft skin like streams racing towards oceans. It gathered in beads across her face and she was no longer a princess, but a queen wearing diamonds.

He did a stupid thing then - an impulsive decision - he bent down and kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose.

And then he heard a wonderful thing - Clarke sighing.

It was this that broke him.

Bellamy embraced her. Bringing his hands to her neck, he kissed her. Her lips tasted like Earth and they were softer than anything he could've imagined.

Clarke's hand traveled the length of his body and tugged at the waistband of his pants, urging him closer. Her lips parted just for him and soon they were consuming one another whole. Bellamy's own hands tugged at her shirt and slipped it down her shoulder, his fingers caressing her collarbone, amazed at the softness of her milky skin.

He had pictured this moment for days, weeks even. He imagined Clarke to be rough, calloused - hesitant to love after everything she'd been through.

But no.

In this moment she was tender, yet forceful, so bashful, yet so sure of herself in the way that she held him against her - in the silent way that Clarke told Bellamy she wanted him.

Clarke continued to pull Bellamy towards her until her back was against a tree. And Bellamy, in turn, pressed against her, his mouth exploding across her lips. His hands made their way down to her hips and lifted her up. Clarke's legs immediately wrapped around his hips.

It frustrated Bellamy, as he gripped her thigh, that he could not feel the soft and tender skin of her leg. He wanted to kiss her inner thigh, her stomach, her breasts. He wanted to know what Clarke tasted like. He wanted to know if his kisses could make her moan his name.

Within moments, their clothes were soaked by the rain. Their clothes were so soaking wet, it was as if they were wearing no clothes at all.

Bellamy's kisses were deep, scorching Clarke's lips as his hands tightened around her waist, frantically pulling her against him.

Bellamy kissed as though he were a man desperate for water. His teeth caught her lower lip and when he pulled away, he only came back for more.

Sliding her hands up his chest, her arms encircled his neck. Bellamy's own hand slipped under her shirt and Clarke's vision began to blur.

Touching him was like having a fever. She was on fire. Clarke's body burned. The world burned. Against his mouth, she moaned.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" Bellamy asked. His voice was husky as he took another moment to break away from her.

"I'm not doing anything." Clarke murmured, her words slurred.

Bellamy growled, actually growled.

Cupping Clarke's cheeks, he exhaled a soft groan and deepened the kiss until they were both breathless from its intensity.

She wanted him closer, so much closer. The full contact of his body, flush against hers, sent Clarke's breathing into overdrive. His tongue swept over hers as his fingers splayed across her neck. Bellamy's hand slowly slid down her side, gripped Clarke's hip and urged her closer.

"Bell..." she moaned and it sent him into a wild and eager state.

Lightning struck and Clarke jumped away in shock, breaking whatever hold Bellamy had on her. Standing on her own two feet, she gazed up at him, her lips swollen and eyes wide.

Their first kiss.

Bellamy, standing only a hair's breath away, immediately took her into his arms and held her against his chest.

They were drenched. Their clothes clung to their bodies like a second skin. He didn't want to do this to her - not like this, not when she wasn't thinking straight. He craved Clarke like he needed air, but it pained him knowing that she was drunk and not acting like herself. It was a knife to the chest this realization.

He kissed her, one last time, against her temple - his lips lingering. Then, he lifted her into his arms and carried her back towards camp, her head and hand pressed against his heart.

"Brave Princess..." he murmured.