#selflessbellamy

snarky clarke remark #?

I made a final one because I have no self-control  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

if i sound tired it’s because i’m dying

Here are : part 1 and part 2

jo, 

i’m amazing?! YOU ARE AMAZING! helLO! i’m so glad we’ve begun to talk here because you are such a beautiful person, inside and out. even if we don’t each other well yet, i can already see that. you have such a calm, tranquil presence about you on this chaotic site and it is so needed. and your writing, gosh, you already know i’m such a FAN. but i’ll say it again – it’s amazing! your way of telling a story, the depth and detail you write with is phenomenal and honestly, you inspire me! 

this became a prompt idk if it is what you intended but i just had to.

The firsttime Bellamy meet Clarke he’s out with his dogs. He catches her stealingseveral glances his way. Feeling bold for once, he says “Can’t look away fromthese dashing looks, uh?” and he gestures to himself. By chance the cute blondesmirks and he can’t help but feeling smug about making her smile.

“I was staring at the dogs,” she says while nodding to them at his feet.

He looks down and remembers that he has seven dogs and that people tend to findit weird, for some reason.

“Oh” is all he can say and he blushes, mentallycursing himself for flirting with a girl in a dog park. She’s still smiling though.

“The good looks are helping though,” she saysshowing her notebook.

He takes it a sign to come sit next to her onthe bench. She opens the page she was working on and he can see himself withhis dogs on paper, a pencil drawing. She’s talented. He clears his throat alittle.

“Um, that’s good.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.”

She’s bright and lovely.

He doesn’t really know how to keep theconversation going but she seems fine with staring at him and he can’t help butstare back. While he’s a little uncomfortable about it, she studies him withoutshame.

“So.” He stretches his legs. “You often come tothe dog park?”

“I like to draw here.”

“I never saw you here.” And he blushes morebecause it feels more like an admission than anything else.

She shrugs and just says: “I moved here not longago.”

He hums in answer and takes a look at his dogs.

“I expect you come here a lot?”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Seven dogs.”

“That’s some Robin Scherbatsky’s shit.”

He laughs more and when he’s recovered: “Hope Iwon’t fall for a Ted Mosby.”

She nods. “That would be a shame, really.” She looksat his dogs too and his heart does a funny thing. “So, how did you end up withseven dogs? Not that it’s bad or anything. Just-”

“Weird,” he supplies.

“I was going to say ‘a lot’ but yeah,” shegrins.

“I always loved dogs, I had two first because Ilive alone and it was good company. One of my friends moved away and let mehers because I was the only one in our group friends capable of taking care of animals.I ended up with my ex’s after we broke up, but I can’t even remember why. Ifound a lost one and I couldn’t nottake her. And when my sister’s dog got her litter I just got two because Ialready had five, so why the hell not?”

She’s silent for a moment and he fears he boredher to death. He’s about to say she did ask for the story when she speaks again.

“And you live in town?”

“Um yeah. I have a pretty big house with a yardand everything. The dogs aren’t too unhappy I think.”

“They don’t seem so,” she says, her voice soft,just as one of the dog jumps and licks his hands.

“Want me to introduce you to them?”

She looks at him through her eyelashes and she’sbeautiful.

“Yeah I’d love that.”

He turns to his dogs again and blushes when hecalls them “Poseidon, Artemis, Hades, Hermes, Demeter, Athena, Persephone!”He needed a theme.

“Wow, nerd,” she laughs.

“Shut up.”

*

When he sees her for the second time it’s thestart of the school year and he’s meeting with a new student’s foster mother.He’s working on his lesson plans when he hears a small knock on the door of hisoffice.

“Enter,” he calls.

“Mister Blake, thank you for meeting with me.”

He gets up to greet her and when she turnsafter closing the door he recognizes her. She must recognize him too becauseshe lets out a small “oh”.

“Hello.” And he fucking waves like an idiot.

She bites her lips to keep herself fromlaughing and it makes him more comfortable for some reason.

“Hi. Um, take a seat, please.”

“Thanks.” And she sits in front of him.

She smirks a little and he doesn’t know whereto begin.

“I understand better the nerd dogs’ names now.”

He shrugs, used to this kind of jokes.

“I had to.”

“Obviously.” And they’re staring at each otheragain. He clears his throat.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yeah. Of course. I’m Clarke.”

He takes the hand she’s presenting.

“Bellamy Blake, I teach History.”

“I know.” She wears a small smile that gothis heart melting a little. He smiles back because he’s incapable of not doingso.

“You’re here to talk about… Madi? Is thatright?”

“Yeah Madi… I don’t really know how to start…”

“Don’t worry, just say what you feel isimportant.”

She takes a deep breath. “Okay. She never knewher father. Her mother raised till she was eight and then died from overdose.”

It hits him, the story a little too close to his, but he doesn’t say anything.

“She’s been living with her grandmother for awhile and it was good from what I heard but she was an old woman and soon shedidn’t have the strength to take care of Madi. She ended up in foster care.She’s been with me for a little over a year now. And it’s been… okay, I think.I don’t want to say good.” She has a nervous chuckle. And Bellamy resists theurge to take her hand in his. “We lived in a big city before we moved here but Ithought a small town would be better for her.”

He hums and lets her continue.

“She’s a great child. Really she is. She justhad a shitty childhood.”

And once again he can picture himself twelveyears ago.

“She’s smart but doesn’t like school, ofcourse. She had to leave school for a year so she’s older than her classmatesthis year. I don’t know if it’s going to be fine…” She bites her lips and adds, “History is her least favorite subject.”

He can’t help but smile at this.

“Have you ever met someone history was theirsfavorite subject?” She relaxes at his joke and it’s what he was going for so hesmiles more broadly. “Clarke… Can I call you ‘Clarke’?” She nods. “Clarke, I’mgoing to be honest with you. I never knew my father, my mother had a drugproblem and died from it when I was 15. My sister and I went in differentfoster houses. I know this shit.”

She seems profoundly relieved that this.

“I’ll take care of Madi the best I can. I knowhow to deal with teenagers.”

Her relief is written on her smile and it’sblinding. He will see more of Clarke Griffin, for sure.

*

He expects to see more of her at school, for parents’meetings and stuff but she comes to his bookstore the following week and he hasto go see her. She’s looking at a book in the classic section and he might fallin love with her already.

He comes behind her and takes a look over hershoulder. She mustn’t have sense him come because she jumps when he says: “Iwould recommend this book.”

She turns and takes him in.

“Don’t come behind people’s back like this!”

He laughs. “Hi Clarke.”

“Mister Blake.”

“Bellamy.”

“Bellamy,” she corrects and smiles.

“We have to stop meeting like this.”

“Like what?”

“Unplanned.” It’s bold but he feels prettyconfident. She laughs so it can’t be that bad.

“Wow. Smooth.”

He grins, a little smug about making her laugh.

“You have some game for a nerd.”

“Oy!”

She smirks and every damn look is a good lookon her, it’s frustrating.

“So, this is a good book?”

“Don’t change the subject, Clarke, I’m waitingfor apologies.”

“I said you had game I don’t see any offense inthis,” she says a little too falsely innocent.

“Get out of my bookstore, you’re banned.”

She blinks. “Your bookstore?”

He frowns, not understanding her surprise.“Yeah?”

“Aren’t you a teacher?”

“Well I also own this bookstore.” He shrugslike it’s not a big deal.

She hums. “You’re quite a catch, BellamyBlake.”

He starts blushing when Miller calls for him“Blake, stop flirting I need your help here!” And that would make his cheeks fullyred.

He lets out an awkward “sorry” and goes to seeMiller but Clarke follows him. He can’t say he minds.

They come to the counter and Miller doesn’teven glance at them.

“Clarke, this is Miller. I work in thebookstore Saturdays and during school vacations and he takes over during theweek. The books are the only company he can stand.

“Fuck you, Blake. You done with the flirting? We need to put the new books on the shelfs.”

“He’s not done with the flirting actually,”Clarke says and she takes his hand too and he might die from happiness really.

Miller glares at him, staring right into hiseyes. He huffs and rolls his eyes and goes through the back door to thereserve.

Bellamy turns to Clarke, not letting go of herhand.

“Sorry he’s pretty grumpy.”

“Oh I didn’t notice.”

He smiles and looks down at her.

“I fear I gave all I got in my game.”

He swallows when she links her hands behind hisneck.

“Good thing I have a pretty great game toothen.”

and it was like the idea just formed fully all at once in my head like the whole damn thing just all of it and i couldn’t help myself so here it is this is my first time writing a fic and its ALL FLUFF don’t sue me i just couldn’t stop myself

@selflessbellamy i don’t know if this will even mildly satisfy you or if you’ll even enjoy it but i also wish bell and clarke could live in a world where dancing is a thing so here goes

set up: the unity day masquerade dance (the same one octavia gets arrested at)

Clarke’s at the Unity Day masquerade dance, alone, all because Wells had cadet training. When Clarke complained to him, he just said to go make new friends. “Life doesn’t happen just in Alpha station, Clarke.” Well, of course she knew that, she worked in med bay after all. But after her dad started berating her on wasting the best, most carefree years of her life by sitting on the couch watching old soccer games, she grabbed her mom’s old masquerade mask and huffed out the door, grumbling the entire way to the mess. 

After dancing solo to a few upbeat songs, she knew coming was a mistake when they started playing a slow song. A waltz, if she remembered correctly. Internally groaning, she was jostled and shoved until she found herself on the sidelines of the dance, watching as everyone grabbed a partner and began dancing. This was the nice thing about the Unity Day dance. For one night, when the masks were on, no one cared if you came from Farm station or Mecha, Factory, or Alpha. Everyone just… was. Was having a good time, that is, except for Clarke. Standing alone like a total loser. Of course this had to be the year there was an odd number of kids at the dance. 

All of a sudden, someone grabbed her hand and was whisking her into the crowd. Between the lights, music, quick spinning movements, and probability that someone had spiked the punch (she would bet two weeks of rations that it was that engineering kid Monty, from Farm Station), she couldn’t see where or who she had ended up with. Steadying herself by placing her hands out around her, she clutched the zipper of a jacket. A guard jacket, she realized as she took in the black colour, plastered with Ark regalia. Looking up, she began to demand, “Who-”, but when her eyes landed on the guardsman’s face, the words died out in her throat. The guy was seriously gorgeous. Tan, caramel-coloured skin, with a smattering of freckles and dark, warm, brown eyes, framed by a mess of black hair she knew was just barely restrained by the hair gel, all topped off with a self-righteous smirk. All she could manage to say was, “Oh…”, her voice trailing off as her demanding questions vanished from recent memory.

“Don’t you worry, Princess, no one’s arresting you tonight. Can’t a guard take a break?” The boy teases. Bellamy is his name, but Clarke wouldn’t learn that tonight. Taking in his uniform, she spots the name tag with the word ‘Blake’ stamped on it. Not from Alpha station then; wonder how he got onto the guard, Clarke thinks to herself. Before she can say anything, Bellamy has them moving, his feet leading Clarke to move hers as well. Normally she hates being told what to do, but in this particular case, she finds that she doesn’t mind it so much. 

She suddenly picks up on something he said, and just like that, her annoyance returns. “Hey, I’m no princess! And you’re no guard. I recognize that insignia, you’re just a cadet,” she smirks up at him, but then immediately feels bad as she sees discomfort and shame flicker across his face, before it closes off, the smirk being replaced by a cold line. She feels his hands and shoulders tense up, only further adding to their mutual discomfort. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, “that was a princess-y thing to say, wasn’t it?” His gaze opens up a bit, but he doesn’t say anything. “It’s just that, my friend’s in cadet training too. That’s where he is tonight. Training. To be a cadet.” Bellamy’s smirk returns as he watches her speak stutteringly.

He shakes his head quickly, then looks away while saying, “No worries, Princess. Your clothes gave you away, that’s all.” He turns to look back at her, and Clarke feels caught off guard by his gaze. Feeling… something, she breaks their eye contact and chooses a new topic of conversation, one decidedly less inflammatory than the Ark’s unofficial classism.

“Where’d you even learn to dance anyway?” she asks. “I thought you guard-types were all strength, no coordination.”

“All strength? I’ll thank you for that, but in fact, being a guard is all about coordination. The use of a shock baton, I’ll have you know, is like a dance. The twirling prior to its execution, it counts for everything.”

Clarke finds a snorting kind of laugh escaping her mouth, but she cuts it off, regarding him with a smirk and an eyebrow raise. “Funny,” she proclaims, and sees a proud smirk mirrored on Bellamy’s face. This time, he breaks the eye contact as he motions for her to twirl under his arm, his gaze distracted and sweeping the room. “But really, why are you here? I mean, dancing?” As their hands rejoin, Clarke studies the contrast in skin tone, his golden-brown hand large, slightly rough, dotted with a few freckles, and her hand pale, but slightly flushed, almost engulfed within his. Looking up, she sees he’s still sweeping the room.

“Let’s just say I’m keeping an eye on someone, official guard -or, cadet - duty, you know? And this arrangement provides the best view,” Bellamy snaps his gaze down to her face, then quickly travels up and down her body, before looking back up and continuing his search. “for more than one reason.” Clarke feels herself flushing, and before she has time to control it, his gaze slides back to her, annoying smirk already in place. 

Irritated by his pride, but unable to think of a response, she just huffs and grumbles about “shit-eating grins and self-confident guards” under her breath. They continue dancing, around and around. Damn, this is a really long song, Clarke complains to herself, but she knows she doesn’t really mind. Even though they just met, being in the same space as this boy doesn’t make her uncomfortable or nervous. It feels so familiar, calming almost. Like they’ve known each other for years. Like she could trust him with anything, even her life. And by the relaxed set of his shoulders, she could guess he feels the same way.

After a while of the repeating cycle of Bellamy sweeping the room, Clarke looking at his chest, and them occasionally meeting glances, she’s grateful that he swept her off the sidelines. She could’ve have been spending these minutes alone and feeling sorry for herself, instead of enjoying her time here. Her dad and Wells would be proud. 

“Thank you,” she finally says, and Bellamy cuts his sweeping glance short, turning his head back around to face Clarke, giving her an odd, questioning look, like he’s never heard the words before. She continues, “for keeping me alive.” Bellamy looks shocked for a quick second, then throws his head back, releasing a short laugh, before facing her again, the once-annoying-but-now-charming smirk on his face.

“Keeping you alive? Surely the embarrassment of spending a slow dance alone wouldn’t have been that bad,” he responds. “You don’t make it easy, you know, shuffling like that.” Seeing his amused smirk, Clarke blushes, dropping her gaze to their feet, hers hesitant, his confident, leading them around and around and around. “Hey,” he adds softly, “you’re welcome. For what it’s worth, thanks for letting me grab you off the sides like that. Appreciate it.” Clarke looks back up, and Bellamy gives her a nod paired with a small, close-lipped smile. She smiles back, and they dance in comfortable silence, stealing quick glances at each other and sharing small smiles until the song melds back into the regular fast-paced and thumping-bass variety.

She hadn’t noticed it while waltzing, but they had gradually drifted so close to each other that their chests were almost touching. It was intimate, maybe too intimate. But Clarke found herself not wanting it any other way. She peered up, and saw Bellamy staring at her, a heat in his eyes that she had never encountered before. His gaze dropped to her lips and his breathing hitched. In some sort of automatic response, she inhaled sharply, and in one quick motion he licked and then pursed his lips. His lips… The lights flashed red, and the moment broke. 

“Well,” Bellamy says, whipping his head back, followed by his hand drifting from her waist as he pulls away. 

“Well,” Clarke replies, dropping her hand from his shoulder, then looking down at their linked hands. She doesn’t really want to let go yet. She feels Bellamy’s gaze on her and looks up. He’s giving her a weird sort of expression. Quickly, reluctantly, she drops his hand, being met with only slight resistance. Twisting her fingers, she regards him, standing tall and strong beside her, his gaze confidently sweeping the room. He swivels his head back to face her so quickly Clarke fears he’s caught her staring. Instead, he just pulls his characteristic smirk. 

“Well, Princess, looks like I’ve gotta run. Guard duty and all,” he tells her as he backs away.

Bellamy’s shoulders begin to turn, and Clarke knows if she doesn’t ask now she might never get to ask again, so she blurts, “Hey! What’s your name?”

Bellamy turns back, his signature smirk lighting up his face, “Maybe next time, Princess,” and somehow manages to disappear into the crowd, despite his tall frame. As he trails off, Clarke thinks she hears the words “Best Unity Day, ever,” but she can’t be sure.

Clarke might’ve been standing there for seconds, or minutes, or even hours, but the next thing she registers is the alarm sounding. “Solar flare alert. Solar flare alert.” She snaps out of her reverie and commences the standard emergency protocol, removing her mask and pulling out her ID. 

Somewhere in the chaos, she sees a tall head of barely tamed black curls, charging through the crowd - towards a short girl with brown hair swept up into a ponytail - but she loses sight of it, of him, as a guard enters her field of vision, asking “ID, please.”

Clarke focuses on the man in front of her, relaying the words she’s been taught to say since she was a child. "Clarke Griffin, Alpha station. Medical apprentice. Parents: Dr. Abigail Griffin, and Jake Griffin.” She lets the guard move her toward the window and is left searching, wondering, about the freckled boy with hair the colour of night.