Summary: AU, Drama/Romance, Bellarke. 3x they argue, 1x they don't.

Rated M – for swearing, adult themes and sexual content. (I might be over cautious).

Disclaimer: Just borrowing The 100, not for profit!

A/N: So this is the final chapter and my first ever COMPLETED fanfic. That feels amazing. I absolutely loved writing this and I would love to know how you felt reading it. Also my work is not beta'd so I apologise for any blatant errors – please point them out if you find them – I like constructive criticism. Thank-you for the follows! :D

DISSENT

Four.

Being around the campfire reminded her of the first time they'd met some ten years prior, out in the forest, hiking with their friends. It seemed like it was a lifetime ago and she felt so far removed from the person she was back then, the person he had fallen in love with. She hugged her knees to her chest and sighed.

What a shit storm of a month! She couldn't remember a time they had been more tested in their roles as parents, or spouses. So much had kept them apart these past few weeks and she ached to feel him close to her. Not just close, but close.

She thanked the stars above for this place - their place. They had returned to this campsite many times over the years – first as a young adventurous couple, and then as a family.

"I love this spot," she mused aloud, sensing Bellamy's physical presence behind her before she heard him approach.

She turned her head slightly and watched him, as he watched the stars shimmering across the sky above them.

"What were you doing?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Checkin' on the kids," he replied. "And… getting some supplies."

He held up a cask of port and a block of her favourite chocolate.

Clarke grinned in surprise. He must have hidden them somewhere, because she certainly did not pack them in the food box. He knew she didn't like surprises… and yet she strangely loved that he completely ignored that fact about her.

Grinning cheekily, he sat beside her on the large broken branch they'd wrangled in front of the fire for a seat. His cargo pants and thin tee smelt of wood chip, smoke and sweat.

"You got something…" he licked his thumb and reached forward, brushing the skin near the edge of her lip lightly - a smile creeping into his big brown eyes as he registered her small intake of breath. "I think it's marshmallow," he sucked it from his thumb with his teeth and lips - his mouth making a wet caressing sound as he did.

When he looked back up at her, his forehead furrowed and his eyes squinted with amusement at the appearance of ecstasy glowing in the firelight on her face. She shook her head and cleared her throat, discouraged now that he'd caught her out.

"What's the matter princess?" he said huskily as he poured her a cup of port from the cask and handed it to her – leaning into her ear to whisper seductively. "You want me to put my mouth someplace else and make that sound?"

She snorted and almost sprayed port everywhere.

His features broke into a luminous laugh, and his freckles danced across his face. He looked positively beautiful. Even now, after all these years, she was still bewitched by his charm. She couldn't resist sliding onto his lap, straddling his legs and kissing him persistently.

He hadn't expected that, but it didn't take long before he was kissing her back – hot, wet and messy. When was the last time they'd made out like this?

"I'm sorry about the car," she mumbled between breaths.

"I don't care about the car," he said into her neck - his hands all over her.

"We need to talk about Ash," she added, gasping as his fingers found the buttons on her flannel, well it was his flannel actually, she was just borrowing it.

"Yes, we do," he agreed, pushing his shirt back over her shoulders and looking directly at her.

"Our daughter is definitely a badass," she finished, a sassy spark flashing in her eyes.

"Just like her mother," he murmured, a mixture of admiration and animalistic lust lingering in his look.

She clutched at his long curls, grateful that he hadn't been to the hairdresser in weeks, and pulled his head towards her breasts.

He followed her leadership, cupping her in his hands and rubbing her nipples with his thumbs through the silky material of her bra. His mouth found the sensitive spot between her clavicle and her neck and she cried out with need.

"I need you too," he slurred into her skin. "I need you now."

"Right here?" She moaned.

"Why not?" His voice was dense with desire. It had been too long.

He grabbed one of the kids' towels that were hanging on the camp chairs drying in front of the fire and laid it out beside them.

Clarke crawled over and sat on her knees. He watched her come to him, his eyes raking over her fine figure, her alluring curves enhanced by the shadows cast from the fire. Damn… she was hot. In fact, he found her more attractive now than he ever did - after three kids and a decade of hard work, her body was testament to her strength and her vulnerability.

They finished undressing - taking their time with tender touches and soft kisses in between socks and tops being torn off.

Then she was above him, naked and needy.

He'd almost forgotten what she felt like against him, skin on skin - her stiff nipples dragging ever so slowly over his bare chest as she blazed her lips along the defining ridges of his body, nibbled at the folds in his skin and dug her fingers in.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to feel close to her.

Close to her body… her heart… her mind… her soul.

Close enough that they connected beyond words or looks or even touch.

Close enough that they connected on some base instinctual level. A level that was primal, yet spiritual. Brazen, yet oh so gentle and innocent.

He needed to get closer.

He needed to be inside her.

"I'm ready," she breathed. "Bellamy… please."

He pulled her into him and rolled them over, smirking at the pleasure on her face as he took control.

But the smirk was soon replaced with dismay.

"Dadda…" their baby boy blubbered sleepily from the tent.

Bellamy dropped his head to her chest and let out a long, illustrious lament, sweaty brown curls hanging all over her.

"Seriously?" he groaned.

"Shhh…" Clarke panted, trying to catch her breath. "Wait."

They lay pressed against each other, on the ground beside the fire, both of them still, listening with their eyes and ears, hoping. Sure enough, the toddler rambled unintelligibly to himself for a few more seconds before there was silence - bar the rapid beating of their hearts, the flickering and spitting of the fire and the chirping of crickets in the grass.

Bellamy lifted his eyes and looked back into his wife's wild blue gaze, catching a yearning there, even keener than before.

"Where were we?" he growled into her throat, entering her as she wrapped her legs around his upper thighs, dug her fingers into the skin beneath his shoulder blades and arched up to him - urging him to come closer and closer.