Work Header

Perfectly Still

Work Text:

His heel taps endlessly against the marble floor, much like it did the first few nights he came here. It took months for him to get comfortable with this arrangement, and now that Bellamy is finally settled, Octavia throws a wrench in it.

I was wondering if I could have an advance on next month’s allowance, he practices saying in his head, but the words feel so wrong. How can he ask Clarke for more than she’s already given him?

Right on cue, he hears the elevator to her apartment open and the familiar sound of her stilettos clacking against the ground. What she’s coming home from he has no idea. Clarke Griffin inherited so much money from her father that she never will have to work a day in her life, but she must be doing something exhausting with her time considering how sleep deprived and weary she is when she walks in every evening. His best guess is a nonprofit. Some initiative to save the world, probably. Clarke is the sort who wants to save everyone. At least, that’s what he thinks. It would explain why she’s kept him around this long.

“Bell, are you here?” Clarke calls out, and a pit forms in his stomach. Ordinarily, he jumps up to greet her, all too eager to get his hands on whatever she will let him. But the idea of asking her for even more money makes him feel sick.


She turns the corner, dressed in head to toe in red. Dark red lipstick, tight red dress with a black leather jacket, and finished off with red snakeskin heels. A tired smile forms on her lips as she kicks off her shoes and heads toward him. Bellamy moves to get up, to greet her with a kiss like he usually does, but she’s settled herself in his lap before he can.

“Mmm,” she hums as she rests her head against his chest.

When Bellamy first looked into this whole sugar baby nonsense, he never imagined it would be like this. He expected a rich old divorcee who wanted to spend every last cent of her ex’s riches on paying a pretty young man to fuck her brains out. What he got was a lonely heiress who just missed being close to someone and was willing to pay a lot to be held for a little while. They didn’t even sleep together in the first month. When they finally did, it was Bellamy who initiated because he couldn’t take the sexual frustration any longer.

Clarke isn’t the type he would expect to take on a sugar baby. She’s young and beautiful, perfectly capable of finding any young attractive person to date and love on her for free. Hell, Bellamy would jump on that opportunity.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers.

“Nothing.” Bellamy pulls her tight against him, realizing that in his nervousness he hadn’t been acting like he normally does. Clarke pushes herself up, narrowing her eyes at him in concern. “Nothing,” he repeats with an easy smile.

This close, he can see the dark bags under her eyes. A long day of doing whatever it is Clarke does wore down the concealer hiding them. She always seems so tired. Beside him in bed, she’s always tossing and turning, unable to drift off until the early hours of the morning.

“Talk to me.”

Of course, she knows something is wrong. It’s her superpower. Clarke wants to fix everything, a complex that he found annoying at first but endearing now.

“It’s my sister,” he sighs. “She flunked two of her classes this semester.” Probably out drinking and partying too much to think about her education. Growing up poor, one would think Octavia would realize how expensive her education is. Maybe she does and simply doesn’t care. All she knows is that somehow Bellamy is paying for it all and that she doesn’t have to worry about a thing. “She wants to retake them in the summer.”

Clarke purses her lips but says nothing else. He wishes she would just read between the lines and offer to pay, to save him the awkwardness of asking. But she doesn’t. She just watches him with a crease forming between her brows.

“I just… I didn’t budget for summer tuition.”

“Okay,” Clarke says. Pushing off his lap, she strides back to where she dropped her purse. “How much?” Checkbook and pen in hand, she comes back toward him.

“Well, with tuition and housing…” As he calculates in his head, the cost makes him stomach drop. He should just tell Octavia no, let her fall on her face for once. But she needs this degree to get a good job. Even if she doesn’t understand it now, she’ll thank him for it later.

Well, he hopes she will.

He doesn’t manage to say it out loud before Clarke is pulling out her phone and looking it up for herself. Bellamy tries his best to sit still as she calculates and begins writing the check. This is the one thing he hates about being Clarke’s sugar baby. It feels wrong taking money from her. It’s easy enough to forget when money just shows up in his bank account. Then, he can pretend he has a decent paying job and a hot girlfriend. But what he’s doing is hard to ignore when Clarke is writing the check right in front of him.

“Is there something I could…” It feels sleazy to ask, so he doesn’t get the whole question out. And what could he offer other than more sex?

“Yes.” Her answer surprises him, as does the business-like way she rips the check out of her checkbook and starts striding over to him. “First, whatever doesn’t go to Octavia has to be spent on you.”

She holds it out for him, and his stomach flips when he sees about five thousand dollars more than he was going to ask for.

“That’s too much—”

“Get your radio fixed in your car, buy some new furniture for your apartment, treat yourself to a nice trip somewhere, I don’t care. But every cent of what is leftover has to be spent on something you want.” There’s a sternness to her voice that he isn’t used to. One that warns him not to argue. Bellamy’s used to her voice being honey sweet and full of warmth, not whatever this is.


“Don’t you get tired?” Clarke huffs. She’s frustrated. Upset. He asked for too much. Bellamy shouldn’t have asked at all. “Everything you do is for her. Just do something for yourself for once in your life, Bell.”

He is quiet. Bellamy can’t even argue with her about this when the only reason he agreed to this arrangement was to take care of Octavia. He tries to think of the last thing he did for himself, but it comes down to splurging on another pair of jeans six months ago. It’s laughable to call that a splurge when he got them off the clearance rack, but it felt like one.

“So, spend every cent.” Clarke takes the check from between his fingers and places it on the table beside them. “And second, you are going to do nothing for the next hour.”

Bellamy laughs, but she doesn’t. Puzzled, he watches her nudge his legs apart with her knee. Her hands grip his thighs as she kneels down between his legs, her intent crystal clear now.

“Clarke, you don’t have to—”

“Do you want that check?” Clarke asks, eyebrows raised as she gets comfortable on the floor. He swallows and nods his head. “Then, for the next hour, you’re going to sit perfectly still while someone gives you something for a change.”

It should have been easy to just sit there. But as Clarke’s small hands slide up and down his thighs, it hits him that he’s never just sat there and done nothing to reciprocate. When he got his first blowjob back in high school, he couldn’t stop touching Gina. Same with Echo.

Warmth bleeds through his jeans as her hands glide up and down. With each slide, her thumbs get closer and closer to grazing his half-hard cock. His eyes can’t settle on what to look at: the focused look in her eyes or her small hands trying to cover as much of his thick thighs as she can.

His breath catches when her fingers finally graze the outline of his cock. Bellamy waits for it to happen again, but it doesn’t. There’s a smirk on her lips as she avoids making contact again, instead squeezing and rubbing his legs. The not touching is so much worse, making his cock strain against his pants, desperate for release.

“Relax,” she tells him. Easier said than done, but he lets out a surprisingly shaky breath. Her bright blue eyes flicker up to him, warm and soft. The bags under her eyes don’t seem so striking in comparison. “That’s it.”

Before he can exhale again, Clarke’s head falls forward without warning. Her hands stay right by his knees, but her nose grazes the zipper of his pants. Bellamy’s hips jerk sharply, and her nails dig into his thighs in silent warning.

“Stay still,” she reminds, her voice sickly sweet. But when she nuzzles again, this time running her cheek along his length. He does better this time, gritting his teeth instead of bucking his hips against her. “See? Isn’t it nice letting someone take care of you for once?”

Torture, more accurately. But he nods anyway. She does this a little longer, her hands resuming their soft explorations as she nuzzles his throbbing cock through his jeans. Slowly, he relaxes again. Hard not to with the rhythmic way her skin glides against him. Hands that move forward then back, like waves being called back into the sea. The humming she usually does when he holds her comes out intermittently. His eyes fall shut. Her nose travels up his length and her breath feels hot through the fabric.

An odd, almost vibrating feeling jerks him out of this daze. A hand grazes his stomach followed by the waist of his jeans loosening. He looks down just in time to see Clarke drag the zipper down with her teeth.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and she accidentally drops it when she smiles up at him. It takes her a few tries to get it back in her mouth, fumbling between her tongue and teeth, but when she has it, she pulls it the rest of the way down at a painfully slow pace.

Bellamy tries to push up so he can pull his pants down, but Clarke takes over before he gets the chance. Just the jeans, not his boxers. She pushes him back into the chair and leans forward again. This time, he can feel more than just pressure against his cock. The fabric is so thin that he can feel her hot skin as she rubs her cheek over his cock.

“Let’s go to your room,” he chokes out. His cock aches at each little touch, wanting so desperately to be inside her tight little cunt. “I’ll fuck you so good, Clarke.”

“Mmm,” she hums against the fabric, the sound vibrating through his body. “You always do, Bell. You take such good care of me.” Clarke’s hand grabs his cock through the fabric, sizing up how hard she’s gotten him. “But I want to take care of you right now.” She presses a kiss right over where the head of his cock throbs against the fabric.

His hips jerk, and her smile grows.


“Please what?”

“Let me fuck you.”

“No.” She does it again, letting her mouth linger longer this time. He groans in frustration. His hands weave into her hair, and he tries in vain to pull her up for a kiss. “Stay still.”

“Damnit.” He can feel her laugh against his thigh. “You’re torturing me. Come on, let me touch you.”

“Only you would think me trying to make you feel good is torture,” she snorts. “Just like you wince at the idea of having enough money to buy something nice for yourself.”

He ignores the first part, but to the second part he says, “It’s a waste.”

“No, it’s not.” Easy for someone who never has to worry about money to say. “It’s what you deserve.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes but doesn’t argue. Clarke is too busy eyeing his bulge to notice, otherwise he’s sure she’d have something to say about that. She always does this. Tells him how good he is and how much he deserves. Treats him like he’s something precious when he’s nothing.

She’s biting down hard on her lip as she slides his boxers down, her eyes widening as his cock springs up. He has to admit it’s nice about watching her. Bellamy is usually too busy fingering her or slamming his lips into hers to pay attention to how she touches and looks at him. The corners of her mouth turn up as she runs her fingers up and down his cock.

But still, the urge to touch her too keeps him from completely relaxing.

After a few dry strokes, Clarke takes the head into her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. When she pulls off, one hand slides down his cock again, the saliva making it much easier than before. She strokes him slowly for a few minutes, stopping every now and then to take his head into her mouth again.

The few blowjobs he’s had could be summed up in one word: efficient. It was something Gina never quite got into and Echo loathed. So, they tended to be quick and right to the point.

What Clarke is doing to him is nothing like that. It’s slow and exploratory. Sometimes having him aching for more as she licks his balls, other times letting him grow soft just to get him hard again. She did say one hour, though he never considered she would take the full hour to make him come.

Her eyes meet his as she attempts to take all of him, only breaking when he hits the back of her throat and she gags slightly. She pulls off him and takes a turn stroking him while she catches her breath.

“You like this?” she asks, her voice rough.


“Want me to make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, almost snorting.

She keeps stroking him but looks back up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you deserve to come?”

His brows furrow, not sure how to answer. In his silence, Clarke takes him in her mouth again. There is no slow anymore. Her lips slide furiously up and down his cock until she has to come back up for air.

“Do you, Bell?” she asks, voice even rougher than before.

“Do I what?” he grunts, hips jerking as both her hands take his cock.

“Deserve this. Answer correctly, and I’ll make you come.”

He doesn’t deserve any of this and she knows it. Bellamy hasn’t earned anything Clarke has given him. What he has with her is nothing like what Murphy had with his sugar mommy. Bellamy gets to fuck a hot rich girl four times a week, goes on one fancy date he doesn’t have to pay for a week, and is given enough to pay his sister’s tuition for his “work”. Bellamy doesn’t deserve this deal. Clarke is getting the short end of the stick, but he’s not stupid enough to point that out to her.

“Say it,” Clarke whispers.

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, she lets go of his cock. A whine escapes his lips without his consent.

“Say it,” Clarke repeats. When he says nothing, she leans forward so her lips are just a breath away from the head of his cock. “Say you deserve this,” she whispers so close to him that the hairs on his legs stand up.

The words come spilling out. “I deserve it.”

Her hand takes him again. “Deserve what?”

“To come.”

“And to let me make you feel good?” Clarke asks before running her tongue all the way to the tip.

“Yes, yes,” Bellamy grunts, now gripping the side of his chair so hard that his knuckles turn white.

“And to spend a little money on yourself for a change?”

“Uh huh.”

Her lips hover over the head as she says, “Say it all. Tell me everything you deserve.”

“To come.” Clarke takes the head into her mouth. “To let you make me feel good.” Her lips slide down his shaft. “To… to spend money on myself.” She hums around his cock. The vibration makes his hips jerk, and she gags. But she doesn’t pull off to catch her breath. She keeps going.

His eyes fight to stay open so he can watch. Tears leak out of the corners of her eyes, smearing her flawless makeup. When she does pull off to take a break, Bellamy gets to see her pale little hand wrapped around his dark, thick cock. It’s such a beautiful sight, almost as beautiful as watching his cock stretch her out.

She’ll never convince him that he deserves any of this. He knows for a fact that he’s done nothing good enough in his life to deserve her, let alone everything she does for him.

But he does know that Clarke believes it when she says he deserves this. And maybe that’s enough.

Bellamy means to warn her before he comes, but then she hollows out her cheeks again and pushes him over without warning. His fingers pull her hair, desperate for something to hold onto as he thrusts into her mouth.

His head falls back against the chair as he finally lets go, a warm wave passing through him and leaving him light headed.

What he feels now is what he always feels when he sees Clarke: relief. Some burden is always taken off his shoulders here. Rent gets paid, he gets to cut down his hours, and now, this beautiful, peaceful release. He was a ball of anxiety before, and she took that all away.

His cock falls against his stomach, completely spent, and Clarke wipes some of his come off her lips with a smile.

No, he doesn’t deserve her. Never will. But God, he wants to.