A/N: This is the smut I warned you about! Also some swearing. Only read if you're comfortable with explicit depictions of a sexual nature. Also features a hint of a dom/sub dynamic (but nothing too heavy on that front).

Day 3 – Mistletoe mishap

"Hey Bellamy. Look at this."

She gestured towards the green plant with white berries, which appeared to be suspended in mid-air somehow, a little way in front of them.

"Have you ever seen anything like this before?"

They both stepped closer to investigate, until they were almost directly beneath it…

The ground fell away beneath their feet, and they found themselves in a hole, a tangle of limbs, Clarke's elbow jabbing particularly painfully into his neck while his knee was trapping her arm on the ground.

"What the fuck?!"

"Shit!"

They finally managed to get to their feet, each immediately running their hands up the walls to see if they could climb out.

"What if I stood on your shoulders?"

"Worth a try," he grunted as she scrambled up his back.

It was just too deep. "No use, looks like were stuck in here for a while." She began to climb down when she saw it. "What the hell?!"

There was a cavity in the wall, with a blanket inside. When she pulled it out, she heard a clink. Wrapped inside there was a bottle, a couple of jars, and what looked like packets of food.

Bellamy gave a groan of recognition. "That's what Lincoln meant when he warned me to watch out for love traps. That must have been mistletoe."

Clarke gave a low growl and he didn't need to see her properly to know that her eyes were narrowed in annoyance. "You mean to tell me you were given a direct warning and we still ended up in this hole!"

"I didn't know he meant a literal love trap," he bit back.

That earned him a smack to the arm. "Then what the hell did you think he was warning you about?"

"I just thought he meant you might try and seduce me or something... Everyone knows you want me Clarke."

Another, much deserved smack. "In your dreams Blake."

He was glad it was too dark for her to read in his expression just how close to the mark she was.

Through gritted teeth she just about managed to keep her voice level. "So what exactly is this, and how long till we get out?"

He ran his hand through his hair, a little awkward. "I think this must be the Grounder equivalent of a practical joke... Do you know what mistletoe is?"

He could make out the shake of her head.

"It's a Christmas tradition. People used to hang it in doorways, and if you ended up beneath the mistletoe with someone then you had to kiss… so they've kind of taken it a step further I guess."

"You don't say?" she snarked.

"Of course, the way they've set it up, you'd normally trap people who'd be happy to spend a few hours alone together in a small, dark space… the supplies are kind of a nice touch actually… At least we won't go hungry," he said with a forced cheerfulness. "

The blanket had been spread on the ground, they'd found a candle in the cavity which they'd stuck in the wall and gave them a bit of light, but it wasn't until they'd sat down that they realised just how small the space was.

Bellamy was so tall that there were only two position that were even remotely comfortable. It had been a choice between having Clarke between his legs, virtually on his lap, or for them to be sat almost side-by-side with her legs over his crotch. They'd gone for the latter, so they could occasionally look at one another as they conversed.

The wine helped ease the tension a little, and it was so oddly intimate that they often found it easier to stare straight ahead rather than to look at the other. Somehow they ended up talking frankly about things they'd never have dreamed of discussing with anyone – especially not each other!

Which is how Bellamy ended up offering to make her come.

"I've always wondered what it'd be like," she'd said. "I masturbate and stuff. It feels great and everything, but I've… you know… I've never climaxed. And I only did it the once with Finn, so we never got that far…"

Meanwhile Bellamy had opened up about his kink to be in control. "I like to set the pace, to the call the shots. There's nothing better than watching a woman come undone, of treating her so well that she's literally begging you to let her come."

And so they'd switched positions, so she was sat in his lap. "Do you ever think of me like that?" she'd asked, "you know… sexually."

He'd kissed her neck. "Are you kidding me!" he murmured. "I can honestly say I've dreamt about fucking you since the first day we landed on Earth."

"Oh!" She sounded surprised.

"Is that all you've got to say Princess?"

He was kissing her neck again, and had begun to unbutton her shirt. "I just didn't think I was your type. You always seemed to end up with the tall willowy girls…"

"Pure chance," he replied, as he began to tease her nipples through the fabric of her bra. "It's not about looks, it's about compatibility. Trust me Clarke, you're one of the sexiest girls on this planet, and with that smart mouth of yours I'd have taken you to bed over any one of them if you'd have given me the chance."

"My smart mouth huh?"

He pressed a fingertip to her lips and simply said, "Suck."

He must have coated it one of the sweet things from the food packets. She ran her tongue along the base and hollowed her cheeks as he pulled it out slowly.

"Good girl... and yes… most of my best fantasies start with you yelling at me. It's really quite a turn on when you're angry. It makes me think of the most pleasurable ways I could shut you up," he chuckled darkly.

"Well most of mine start with you taking your shirt off," she admitted. "When you were chopping wood last week I don't think I could think straight for an hour!"

He peeled off her shirt before tugging off his own. Her soft skin felt like fire against his bare chest.

"It's really not fair," she continued, "the most infuriating man on Earth, and you're basically sex on a stick."

He sucked a hickey on her shoulder at that, glad there was enough light for him to admire his mark.

"Ass," she laughed.

"So if this is where they start… shirt off… where do they finish?"

"Oh… I don't know…" she replied evasively.

"Try again," he commanded.

She couldn't quite believe that this (of all things) was what was making her blush. Not his hands on her breasts, or the feel of him growing hard, or his naked torso pressed against her own.

"It's OK," he added softly. "You can tell me."

"Well… I guess you're so much bigger than me… I don't notice often, but then suddenly I'm like hyper aware, and I can't help but imagine you crowding me against a wall, towering over me… even your fingers… you're hands are so much bigger than mine, I imagine you stretching me… and you're so strong, you could lift me up so easily and take me against a wall…"

His mouth was watering and she had actually rendered him speechless. He had to physically shake his head to clear the image, and address (or rather undress) the matter at hand.

As his administrations continued, the bra long since discarded, she began to squirm a little impatiently in his lap, making him even harder. He placed his hands on her hips to still her, "patience is a virtue Princess," before grinding into her at a steady pace… deliberate… slow… just shy of tortuous. She let out her first moan.

Minutes or hours later (she had no idea, she'd lost all sense of time to the overwhelming pleasure) she wasn't sure which was the more obscene, the noises she was making or the sound of his fingers driving in and out of her.

But before that he'd ordered her to stand. He'd peeled off her jeans tantalisingly slowly. She'd never been so aware of the rough texture of the fabric, as he'd inched it all the way down her legs.

Then his hands were on her arse, her knees buckling as he pulled her to him, hot mouth clamped to her mound, sucking through the already damp fabric of her panties, before stripping them off and casting them aside, still chuckling at the sounds of surprised gratification – clearly he'd been right to suspect she'd like to feel a little dirty.

Then she'd found herself back between his legs, acutely aware of her nakedness, as he teased his way closer to her clit. He whispered in her ear, telling her how beautiful she was, licking and blowing, heating and cooling, all the while tracing circles and zigzags ever closer, fingertips ghosting gradually higher along her thighs, and lower and lower down her abdomen. She began to think he'd never get there. But then he did!

And now here she was, being pushed beyond any point she'd managed to reach on her own before…

"God Bellamy," she was almost grunting at the intensity of the sensations he was eliciting, "you haven't even got your dick out yet!"

He couldn't help but smile with pride at her incredulity. "Just you wait… we've barely even started yet…" he replied with a gentle tweak of her nipple and a nip at her earlobe.

He didn't enter her until they were both standing up. She was right, he'd lifted her easily, and now her legs were wrapped around her waist, her back against the bare earth, her head thrown back as he kissed along her jawline.

The candle was burning low, but there was still enough light for her to meet his gaze to seek his permission. He nodded and she lowered herself onto him.

He'd so thoroughly prepared her that she barely needed to adjust before he was thrusting into her and making her stutter out. "OhMyGod… ohMygOd… oHmyGoD…"

She was clutching at his back desperately. He slowed down deliberately.

"Hands up Clarke." She responded instinctively, lifting her hands above her head, wrists together against the wall where he pinned them with his hand. It caused her to change position, to arch into him slightly, meaning he was hitting a spot that made her feel dizzy for a moment.

"Keep them there… for as long as you can… Will you do that for me Clarke?"

She couldn't form words, she could only nod.

Now that both his hands were free, he used them to lift her knees higher, changing the angles slightly again as he picked the pace up once more.

"That's it Princess… you're nearly there. Just hold on for me a little bit longer."

"UmmHmm," she managed.

He gave her two fingers to suck on as she began to keen.

Bellamy was beginning to lose it now. She looked absolutely wrecked, utterly wanton… carnal… he'd driven away her every care, until there was only him… them, now, fucking with abandon to gain her release. She was magnificent.

Her hands came down from the wall and tangled in his hair. He took his fingers from her mouth to return the gesture, bringing her head forward so her forehead touched his own.

"Please Bellamy…" she whispered.

He waited.

He trailed a hand down the length of her body till his fingertips reached her clit.

"Whenever you're ready Clarke."

She buried her face in his shoulder to muffle her cry. He kissed her once, chaste, as she came down from the high.

She clung to him limply for a while. He brushed the damp hair out of her face, and shushed her soft thank-yous.

He tucked the blanket around her as she fell asleep, before finishing himself off quietly. Then he joined her under the blanket and revelled in the feeling of her snuggling into him.

When they woke, the ate and drank and got dressed, with occasional chat interspersing the companionable silence.

As she heard voices and footsteps approaching, she snaked her arms around his waist and pressed her head against his chest. "I just wanted to thank you for today," she said, "before we go back to reality."

"I should be the one thanking you," he replied, hugging her back, swaying a little. "That was one of the best days of my life Princess."

Once they were let out of the hole, they didn't discuss what they'd done. It was too much for them to deal with in the cold light of day… not that it stopped them from thinking about it… nor from building on what they'd started when they did (finally!) get together…