So, here's the jist-if I may, some of you have been requesting smut via private messages. I'm gonna be frank, I don't really write smut. It kinda seems a tad bit pervy to me to be sitting at a computer writing down fictional character's sex lives! To be clear, I don't judge anyone who writes or enjoys smut/lemon/lime. The best I will do on those lines is a flash back to Bellamy's life on the Ark. I hoped to make him out to be a jerk, but with reason. Brief references to Octavia hint that Bellamy is actually mildly scared from his childhood (not to be cheesy :P). Anyway! Since this is a flashback, if you are uncomfortable with mild sexual references, you can totally skip this chapter and you'll be fine! So without anymore side- notes, enjoy...

It was always the same routine. In fact, Bellamy was quite surprised that none of the many girls he had spent the night with noticed that fact.

Step one: select a target. This is a rather simple one in Bellamy's opinion. Simply find the most scantily clothed woman in the room. This step isn't simply to create an easier view- girls who wear next to nothing are begging for a good night.

This night is the same as always, Bellamy thought as he pulled on an old pair of combat boots, preparing to depart for a night at Deck Three, the local Ark speakeasy. As people 'under the influence' tended to be more-how do they put it-libidinous, the Ark had a strict no alcohol rule. In Bellamy's opinion, the Ark ought to know that even after ninety-some years, the human desire for sex wasn't going to suddenly diminish. If he were to follow the rules, Bellamy would only get to experience such a high once in his life. Life really wasn't much fun without sex and alcohol-and, if Bellamy was to be frank, the combination. As he slipped into the elevator, the young man shrugged on both a leather jacket and a seductive smile. For some reason, Bellamy couldn't shake the feeling that something about tonight was going to be different. Possibly not in a good way.

A soft ding resounded, accompanied with the upward slide of the doors. Now that Bellamy thought about it, the path to Deck Three was actually somewhat complex. He slipped out of the transport and began his journey through the residential sector of this level. Before he was even aware he was no longer alone, Bellamy crashed into another body, this one much smaller than his own. Both crashed to the floor. As Bellamy quickly righted himself, he looked down to see a petite girl with long, silky blond hair curling around her shoulders… and other things slightly lower. Said… lower things were near fully visible from Bellamy's current position. Although this girl seemed perfectly his norm, he simply couldn't fathom the thought of attempting to take advantage of her. For some reason, she was different. Bellamy was shook back to reality when he realised the mystery damsel was currently in distress, trying to pick up numerous books from the ground while simultaneously hiding their titles. The topics ranged from engineering, to air creation, even earth sciences. This was a rather odd compilation of reading material for a pretty young girl to be carrying around, to say the least. … And rather frustrating amount of clothes for a pretty young girl to be wearing...

Once again, Bellamy realised he had lost his touch on the world as he felt the girl shove past him. Then she was gone.

Slightly thrown off his game, Bellamy blindly hurried through the twisting pathways of the Ark. It seemed as though his encounter with the girl was the same as an encounter with an aphrodisiac flower. At last Bellamy stumbled up the wall on the complete opposite side of the space vessel than his complex. Local was a rather loose term when there was only one law-breaking, alcohol-serving joint on the entirety of the Ark. This seemingly ordinary wall held Bellamy's relief. At this point it wasn't even a debate as to whether Bellamy would sleep alone tonight. He needed to find a girl. Preferably quite soon.

Bellamy casually turned to lean against the wall as a group of adults passed by his location. When they were out of hearing range, he cleared his throat and recited a series of barely comprehensible phrases. There was a slight creak that, to an untrained ear, was simply the Ark ventilation increasing. Bellamy knew better and, stepping away from the wall just in time, found himself staring at the buff man, Taren Barnes, who worked as a bouncer from the speakeasy.

"Back again so soon, Blake?" Taren growled.

"You know me well, Barnes," Bellamy replied. A large smile covered the other man's face as he playfully punched Bellamy's arm.

"You are always welcome!" Taren replied. Turning to an electric panel, he closed the wall and returned to his post.

Bellamy turned to face his second home. He couldn't help but smile and great the shiny silver bar as an old friend. Tonight the black walled room was packed. Such a selection to choose from-which was fortunate because at this point, even the bare bulb barlights were making Bellamy hot. He scoped the room.

Target acquired.

The huge, next to bare breasts of a petite girl with ebony hair had caught Bellamy's eyes from across the room. The girl was scantily clothed in a pink fishnet bra that covered… well that covered nothing, and a tiny black skirt that, if laid flat, would probably measure six inches in length. Bellamy was stunned by her apparel and was quite curious as to how she managed to get to the speakeasy dressed like that but his eyes quickly found the large black coat draped from her chair. This has got to be a dream! Bellamy's pants were now bulging so much that he actually feared they would rip, causing them to fly off his body leaving his impeccable length in just his briefs. He hadn't taken more than a moment before he found his way toward her.

Step Two: seduce her. Bellamy had to make her feel comfortable while disclosing as little as possible about himself. The latter was one Bellamy found exceedingly easy as he had lived with a girl in his floorboards all his life. He was always protective of Octavia. If someone found out about her, the entirety of his small family would die. Even as a child, Bellamy made sure to hold the weight of the world to make sure Octavia never felt it.

He strategically sat down in the fiery red barstool two down from the black-haired beauty. Her bust practically sat on the bar in front of her, it's greatness unchallenged by any form of covering. This has got to be a dream, Bellamy thought. One thing he always used to his advantage was confidence, both his own and his future lover's. His personal favorite approach to step two worked only if the woman believed she was in fact the best. If was always fun getting the boasting ones to stop their talking with his mouth.

"One Silent Film for the lady in pink," Bellamy requested with a wink.

So it began.

After what felt like hours-only a mere half hour- of conversing with the woman-Lydia- things finally began to go in Bellamy's direction.

"I simply adore this jacket, Bellamy!" Lydia slowly ran her hands over his arms, then down his chest, "It fits tight in all the right places," On that last word, she suddenly stuffed her hands into Bellamy's underwear, grabbing him with claw like nails.

"Well, I assure you, thats not my jacket," He replied coyly. With that, the night disappeared into the same blur that every other night with every other girl did before.

000

Bellamy woke with a gasp, sitting up perfectly straight. He didn't remember falling asleep. A slight moan from next to him brought him back.

"Clarke," He said, breathing in slightly. His memory lane dream had managed to force him to forget about what was happening outside the sleep dimension. Clarke was poisoned by a butterfly.

She was dying.