A/N I shouldn't be starting another story but here it is. Anyway this is gonna be different tumblr prompts with Bellarke, some AU, some canon. Expect fluff, maybe smut and more fluff from one of my fave OTP's. Review maybe?

The story title is lyrics from a song called 'Kiss Me' by Jason Walker, but I prefer The Fray's cover of it. As always, nothing belongs to me.

Tumblr prompt: - OTP's with height differences: 'The taller person giving piggyback rides'.

Grounders bar was always busy on a Friday night. It was this particular Friday that Bellamy found himself keeping a watchful eye on his sister, her boyfriend (specifically where his hands were) and her group of friends.

They were loud at times, and the alcohol didn't help but still he was glad they were having fun. It was nearing one am and closing time, but the group didn't seem to want to move. In the chaos of a bar fight, Bellamy had lost sight of his sister; Octavia and Lincoln wondering if they had left to avoid him. His friend, and co-worker Miller had disappeared long ago with Monty, whilst Raven was last seen pressing a blonde guy against a wall.

In dribs and drabs people left, some singing and others who were so drunk they probably wouldn't remember anything tomorrow. Bellamy didn't think the Princess was that drunk, but still she remained the last of them.

His little sister's best friend was swaying slightly to the music, on the stool she sat, her head bobbing in time. Having made sure the place was tidy and that he had locked up the office after Wick had left not long ago.

Turning the music off, he heard her utter, "Ass."

"C'mon, Princess," he muttered softly to the blonde as she picked up her silver heels from off the bar.

Jumping off the stool, even though it wasn't very high Clarke landed on her tip-toes and laughed whilst Bellamy just shook his head at her. She wasn't drunk, three vodka and cokes, that was all. She was perfectly fine.

She had stayed behind simply because she was having a good time. Her banter with Bellamy had turned from annoying into a full blown conversation about ancient Greece. Truth be told, he was no longer Octavia's pain in the ass big brother.

Sure he was still an ass half the time, but Clarke couldn't deny the butterflies she had been feeling the past few months. Once outside the bar, Clarke looked at the ground, then her feet and sighed.

Her heels had been killing her after wearing them for all of twenty minutes. She really didn't want to put them back on, but the choice of being in pain or walking barefoot and stepping on god knows what. She would definitely choose the heels.

"Clarke?" Bellamy questioned, his eyebrows knitting in confusion as he looked at her from where he stood on the corner.

He had always been attractive, but now there was something about the way his freckles stood out in the orange glow of the street light. Clarke shook her head, telling herself she was being silly and that she should not fall for her best friends brother. Talk about cliché.

"Coming," Clarke replied as she moved forward, forgetting all about her inner shoe debate.

"Um, Cinderella, I think you may be missing a shoe," Bellamy stated. "Or two," he added.

Resisting the urge to scowl at one of his (many) nicknames for her she sighed. "These shoes are a crime to feet, okay."

Bellamy smirked. He had been with her and Octavia when they had gone shopping, much to his dismay. But it was only so he could drag them both to see a movie of his choice. He endured the shopping, noticing they were far too high for any sane human being to walk in and despite telling Clarke this, she had bought them anyway.

"And don't say I fucking told you so either," Clarke growled at him as she pushed him off the side walk so that she could avoid the dark splattered patch on the inside.

Laughing Bellamy nudged her playfully in the side. "Guess what?"

"What?" Clarke dared to ask as she eyes him up and down, taking in the fact he was very much taller than she.

"I told you so," Bellamy replied with a smug grin as Clarke hit his chest.

Clarke said nothing in reply, and sped up her pace to get away from him, continuing to avoid the dodgy looking parts on the side walk.

"Hey," Bellamy called as he easily caught up with her. She felt his warm palm on her arm, and it wasn't until then she realised she was cold. A chill came over her body, whether from the cold or his touch she wasn't sure. "Here," he muttered shrugging out of his leather jacket and handing it to her.

Clarke shook her head, but Bellamy insisted on draping it around her shoulders. With a small sigh, she gave in and put her arms through the sleeves. Bellamy rolled the cuffs up for her and then smiled.

Clarke span on the spot carefully. "Tell me I look pretty?" she giggled as she looked down at herself, knowing she looked a right mess. Her tight purple dress was crinkled, she was barefoot and her hair was slowly coming out of the twisted style, Octavia had done earlier.

"Very pretty, Princess. But you can't walk home like that," Bellamy told her as she felt his dark eyes, scan her up and down.

Following his gaze to her feet, then to the remains of a broken up ahead, she knew he was right. He had been right about the shoes after all, but there was no way in hell she'd tell him that.

"Piggyback?" Clarke asked, thinking back to when they were little.

"All aboard," he joked as he turned so his back was to her.

Clarke coughed loudly, and put her hands on her hips. "Unlike you, I don't happen to be a giant."

Bellamy snorted as he turned back to look at her. Her expression was priceless. "Well we're not all hobbits, like you, Princess."

Pulling a face Clarke shoved her shoes into his hands, hoping it hurt him. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she hitched it up to her thighs knowing Bellamy's eyes were on her.

At the sight of her bare legs, Bellamy gulped as all he could think about was pressing her up against the wall and kissing her.

"Turn around and promise you'll catch me," Clarke instructed him.

"Will do," he managed to mutter.

Get ahold of yourself, Blake, he told himself. She's your little sister's best friend.

With a small running start, Clarke launched herself at Bellamy letting out a sigh of relief when she felt his calloused hands on her legs. She buried her face into his plaid shirt, smelling the woody smell that was just him, Clarke relaxed.

"Home ward bound, Blake."

"I am not your horse, Princess."

Clarke laughed into his shoulder as he set off at a fairly quick pace. "No but you're my favourite."

Bellamy stopped dead as he crossed the street, thankful it was so late and there was no one driving. "What?"

"What?" Clarke retaliated.

He let out a small huff as they turned down into Clarke's street. "Well you're my favourite too," he told her, feeling her nuzzle into him. The more she got tired, a tipsy Clarke got very cuddly.

They spoke all the way back to her apartment, not really sticking to a certain topic. Anything to keep her awake.

"You infuriate me at times," Clarke mumbled as she clung tighter to him, like a baby monkey clinging to its mother. "But I like you. Like I said you're my favourite."

Bellamy decided to screw what his gut was telling him and go with his heart instead. "I like you too.

"Mmm, good."

"Keys?" he asked, becoming even more aware of the fact Clarke was pressing against his back and that his hands were on her bare legs.

"In my bag," she mumbled as she wriggled. Bellamy set her back on her feet, knowing he had to at least keep her awake until they got upstairs.

Clarke went up first, only realising her dress was pulled up half way up the first set. After fiddling with it, it resting back to where it had done originally; just above her knees.

As she walked up, Clarke hummed to herself as she took in the smell of Bellamy's jacket and how it smelt like all those she had stayed at the Blake's house when she was younger. It smelt of wood smoke and Bellamy and to her it was perfect. She remembered when she and O would make smores over the fire, Bellamy had built and how they'd watch the fire on the fourth of July all wrapped up in a big fluffy blanket.

Those times as a kid when she went from seeing Bellamy as a big over protective brother, to when she started noticing him more. He always used to give her piggybacks too, especially after O had bragged about them so much when they first met.

Bellamy was very much focused on the floor and counting the steps, to avoid looking at the purple clad arse in front of him. She held the door for him of the stair well and then headed to her own front door, which was painted bright red. A vivid choice in contrast to the ugly grey walls.

Her hair had fully come out of the up-do it been in and was trailing around her shoulders. Bellamy couldn't help but think she looked super cute all sleepy and wearing his jacket. She'd look even better without the dress and just the jacket. Shaking his head, trying to knock the thought out, he unlocked the apartment with the keys she had given him.

Clarke padded inside flicking on the light. She shrugged off his jacket once inside her room, feeling all toasty and warm and wanting nothing more than to snuggle in her bed.

Closing the door behind him, he set her shoes on the chair he normally sat in when they gathered here, before heading to the kitchen to get her a glass of water and two paracetamol's.

"For the morning,"

Clarke watched as he set down the drink and tablets on her bed side table, before standing in the doorway sheepishly. He ran a hand through his messy curls, stopping to rub the base of his neck. A habit he when he was nervous, Clarke had noted.

Crossing the room Clarke leaned forward, standing on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek. "Thanks, Bell."

It was only as she made to pull away, Clarke thought to hell with it and took a hold of his collar and pulled him closer to her. His dark eyes were wide, and this close she wanted to kiss every freckle that covered his nose and cheeks.

His lips were soft and everything she had once thought about, one of his hands tangled in her blonde locks, the other resting on the small of her back. They kissed as if they were the only people on the planet.

"Clarke," Bellamy said wearily, hesitating as he pulled back. "You're drunk and tired, we shouldn't be doing this."

Clarke smirked. "Yeah, but I want to do this."

He nodded. "I-I do too. I always have."

When she hugged him, he didn't hesitate to pull her close or to kiss the top of her head.

"I meant every word," she whispered into his chest as he held her, his arms feeling like home.