A/N:
Remember when I wanted to get this finished before Season 4 premiered?
Remember when I used to update faithfully twice a week?
HAHAHA let's all laugh together.
Welp, here it is FINALLY. The last chapter. Enjoy!
Clarke woke up slowly, as she usually did, cocooned in a warmth that felt wonderful; just a degree or two shy of too hot, in a perfect way that made her feel boneless and content and safe beyond measure.
She kept her eyes closed, snuggling into it…and into a bare chest.
Her eyes popped open, staring at the wall of Bellamy's chest, which wasn't unusual…but it was shirtless, and that was out of the ordinary.
As more of her sleepiness left her, she became aware of a few other things…like the fact that they both seemed to be completely naked. And the fact that their legs were tangled together and his hand was resting firmly…unapologetically… on the curve of her ass.
She tilted her head up just a bit, seeing the underside of his jaw and not much else, but his breathing seemed deep and steady, like he was still sleeping.
Clarke took a moment to get her bearings, a little afraid to believe this was really happening, because she'd definitely had dozens…maybe hundreds of dreams like this before…but then she shifted her hips slightly and noticed a definite tenderness that made her realize that this was all very real.
Last night came flooding back to her…the fight…the confessions…the sex…and she closed her eyes, smiling as she leaded forward to press a soft kiss to his chest, sure she'd never been happier in her life.
As much as she loathed to leave his arms, nature was calling, so she gently slid out of his grasp, tiptoeing to the bathroom.
By the time she'd peed, freshened up a bit, and tiptoed back out into the bedroom, he was awake, lying on his back and smiling sleepily at her.
She returned his soft smile, making her way back to bed and crawling playfully on top of him.
His hands immediately came up to rest on her back, and she just took the opportunity to stare down at him for a minute, tucking her hair behind her ear as she leaned over him, their faces just inches apart.
They smiled a little stupidly at each other for a while, until she finally lowered her lips to his.
He ended up rolling them to their sides and helping her slide under the covers with him so their bodies could tangle together.
The kiss remained surprisingly soft, just the gentle grasp and press of lips and the quiet slide of their hands over each other's skin. It was like now that they'd gotten their immediate passion and built-up sexual frustration out of the way, they were both just taking some time to revel in all the love that existed between them.
They eventually separated, just a bit, going back to grinning stupidly at each other, their heads resting on the pillow just inches from each other.
All that happiness…all that joy…got to be a bit too much, and Clarke scooted forward, burying her face in the side of his neck. "God, Bell."
His hand came up to tangle in her hair, holding her close. "I know."
She stayed there for a minute, soaking up the feeling of being this close to him, without any physical or emotional barriers between them, before she forced herself to scoot back a bit.
There were some questions she really needed answers to.
She moved away from him, propping her head up on one hand and using her other to gently skim his chest.
"Since I was 18?" she asked quietly, still shocked at that admission.
He nodded, one side of his mouth lifting in a half smile.
"How? When? I thought you hated me back then."
"I never hated you. I should have, but I didn't, and I couldn't help but notice how damn hot you were, and it pissed me off," he admitted. "That's why I was such an ass at first."
She couldn't help the bubbly laugh that escaped her, because that made so much sense.
"But it wasn't until that first Thanksgiving that I realized it was a lot more than that," he continued.
She tried to think back, remembering the day, but not in too vivid of detail. It had been over six years ago, and it was a little hard to think back that far with all the emotions assailing her and the reminder that they were naked in bed together never far from the forefront of her mind.
Now that she thought about it though, things had seemed to shift after that between them, their relationship heading away from antagonism and more toward the friendship and respect they had later.
"I kept trying to deny I was attracted to you by reminding myself that you were a spoiled little princess and that you were all the things I despised: selfish, uncaring, cold. Octavia had to drag me to dinner, practically kicking and screaming," he admitted, his thumb rubbing what seemed to be unconscious circles onto her stomach as he talked, his tone and his caress apologetic. "But then you opened the door with flour in your hair and all over your cheek and…" he shook his head. "I felt like I got punched in the gut, but I still didn't understand why."
She let her hand move, thumb caressing the side of his neck as she watched him…listened to him…feeling love bloom in her chest in quantities she didn't even know were possible.
She wanted to kiss him, but she had a feeling that once she did, they wouldn't be doing anymore talking for a while, and she needed to hear the rest of this story.
"It wasn't until later that I finally let myself admit what it was I was feeling," he continued.
"When? Why?" she asked, unable to help her curiosity.
"We were making the stupid pies," he told her, his smile a little sheepish at how silly it sounded.
She remembered sending Octavia to help her mom on the other side of their large kitchen and roping Bellamy into helping her with the pies, and she remembered having a surprisingly good time with him, but nothing particularly notable had happened, at least not to her recollection.
"I kept griping about all the work you were making me do and you just kept laughing and throwing pumpkin seeds in my hair while you rolled out the pie dough and it was…" he shook his head, as if a little embarrassed with himself. "I realized you were nothing like I'd thought. You were…sweet and funny and…you kept glancing over to make sure Octavia was having a good time… And the whole time, you had these damn streaks of flour everywhere…"
Clarke chuckled, not being able to resist leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to his chest. "That was what did you in? Really? Flour in my hair?"
He gave her a bit of a side eye, but the minute he started speaking again, his face turned unbelievably soft. "It was just…like I said, I always knew you were hot, okay? I wasn't blind. And sometimes, especially when we'd been fighting, all I could think about was shoving you up against the nearest wall and fucking you senseless."
Clarke couldn't help the sly smirk that crossed her face. "Glad you finally followed through," she teased.
His hand tightened on her waist as his eyes darkened a bit. "Killing me here, Princess."
She chuckled, patting his chest placatingly. "Sorry. Continue."
He pursed his lips, glaring at her playfully for a moment before he continued. "So you were hot, right? But I'd probably thought hundreds of women were hot in my lifetime. I could still tell myself I hated you. But standing in your kitchen…wearing a giant apron and covered in flour…grinning at me and throwing pumpkin seeds in my hair…you were adorable," he admitted, sounding embarrassed to admit it, even now. "I realized that everything you did made me smile. When we were fighting, when we were having fun, when we were both looking out for O…everything. You made me smile. And I realized I wanted to make you smile. …and that's when I realized I was well and truly fucked."
Clarke grinned at him, as taken in by that explanation as she was everything else about him.
"I didn't really know I was falling in love with you then…but it's when I realized I could. And after that…I don't know. Everything changed. After that…everything you did made me get stupider and stupider over you," he admitted, still a little shy about the entire thing. "Like I said…well and truly fucked."
"Well…at least I understand your love of all things baked now," Clarke teased, leaning forward to press her lips to his softly, her heart genuinely warmed by the honesty in his confession.
He shrugged, his face coloring a little, although he maintained steady eye contact with her. "It reminds me of when I started falling in love with you. One of the best memories of my life."
Clarke let that sink in for a minute, wishing she a similar story to tell him…but she didn't. "I didn't have a moment like that," she admitted, sounding apologetic. "I kind of wish I did. But it was more like…" she paused, trying to figure out a way to put it into words. "…like I just looked back one day and realized I couldn't remember a time when I didn't love you."
He was just smiling at her in that soft way he had, the one that was reserved for her and made her feel like she was the only one that got to see this vulnerable side of him.
"I realized that I'd been ignoring it for years. I kept thinking of you as 'Octavia's brother' long after you and I had gotten really close and it wasn't until, well…someone said something to me…that I realized that you were my…person, with or without Octavia even in the same time zone. And then I realized why I'd been ignoring it. Because if I admitted just how important you were to me…I'd also have to acknowledge that I was in love with you."
He took her hand in his, putting it on the bed between them, palm-side up, and running his fingers gently over her palm, then trailing them up and down her fingers. "In love with me, huh?" he asked quietly, his eyes on their hands.
"Yeah," she answered softly, earning a shy smile from him.
"Should I ask who said something to you that made you realize it?"
"Uhh…probably not," she admitted with a slight chuckle.
He raised his eyebrows quizzically.
"Um. It was Murphy," she said cautiously.
He immediately groaned, flopping his head onto the pillow and burying his face.
"You like Murphy and you know it," Clarke teased, running her hand over his shoulder.
Bellamy raised up just a few inches, just enough to glance over and give her an impressive side eye.
She laughed brightly. "Okay, okay. You don't hate Murphy anymore and you know it."
He rolled his eyes a bit but grumbled good naturedly. "So I'm guessing he knew I was in love with you?"
Clarke contemplated it for a moment. "Yeah, probably. He didn't say that though. He just made me realize that you were angry at me for leaving you too, not just your sister."
Bellamy made a noise of acknowledgement that sounded a little sad.
Things rapidly slid into place in Clarke's mind with the force of a punch to the gut. Her eyes widened, a stricken look coming to her face. "Oh my god," she whispered.
Concerned, Bellamy propped himself up on his elbow, using his free hand to cup her cheek. "What is it?!"
"I…left," she whispered, sounding horrified.
He raised an eyebrow. It's not like that was news to him. "Yeah…"
She shook her head, trying to figure out how to say what she needed to, even as she felt tears coming to her eyes. "It was bad enough when I thought we were just friends. But you were…"
He smiled sadly. "In love with you?"
Clarke nodded, horrified. She couldn't imagine the pain she'd go through right now if he abandoned her. Losing your best friend was one thing, but losing the love of your life…
She had no way to know if that's where he was at or not, of course, but that's where she was, and she felt like her heart was breaking for both of them. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."
He shook his head, wiping a stray tear off her cheek and pulling her to him. "Hey, don't do that. I forgave you a long time ago."
Clarke shook her head against his chest, angry with herself. "You shouldn't have. I…"
"Broke my heart?" he asked quietly, without any malice. "Yeah, you did."
She cried harder against his chest.
"Clarke…you also put it back together."
She shook her head harder, her hand clenched into a fist against his stomach.
"Yeah, I loved you before you left. That's why I was so angry at you for leaving. But I was also angry with myself, because I thought maybe I didn't do enough…maybe I wasn't good enough to make you stay. You were in so much pain and I just wanted to help and obviously I…wasn't enough," he admitted softly, the words breaking both their hearts. "And then I had your mom telling me…"
She pulled back just enough to see his face, hers anguished and confused. "…my mom telling you what?"
He looked at her sadly, seeming to regret admitting what he had. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. We're together. We're happy. I never wanted to make you cry again. We were supposed to be done with that," he chastised gently, rubbing his thumb gently over her cheek again. "Can't we go back to talking about how pathetic I am over you?" he joked weakly.
She shook her head, sitting up and pulling the sheet with her and tucking it under her arms to cover most of her nakedness. "I knew there was more to what happened with you and my mom. What did she say, Bellamy?"
He sat up slowly beside her, the sheet pooling around his waist. "Clarke…" he said, shaking his head reluctantly.
"I want to know," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He sighed. "She blamed me."
Clarke's brow furrowed. "Blamed you for what?"
"You leaving."
"Why?!"
"She, uh…said that I made you…uncomfortable," he admitted quietly, obviously ill-at-ease as he stared at the bedspread they'd kicked to the foot of the bed at some point.
Clarke was getting more angry and more confused by the second. "…uncomfortable?!"
Bellamy huffed, his face turning red as he finally spit out the words that had tortured him for months. "She said that my 'pining' was making you uncomfortable. That you'd never feel anything for me other than friendship and I was…I was part of what pushed you away. Like you couldn't deal with your stalker best friend while you were dealing with everything else too."
Clarke felt heat flood her entire body, a rage she wasn't sure she'd ever experienced before consuming her to the point where she wouldn't be surprised if there was literally smoke coming out of her ears.
Without even really thinking about it, she started crawling off the bed.
Two strong hands reached out, grabbing her around the waist and halting her progress. "Where are you going?" Bellamy asked.
"I need to get my phone," Clarke said, her voice practically trembling with the anger coursing through her. "Or no, I need to do this in person," she decided.
The hands on her waist tugged, sliding her back into the spot she'd just vacated and then remained there, making sure she didn't leave again. "You're not getting into it with your mom again. Not over me."
Clarke's eyes widened. "Bellamy, she…" she shook her head, not even able to articulate how horrified she was at what her mother had said…at everything she could have screwed up. "She doesn't get to do that to you. She doesn't get to do that to us," she insisted, trying to scoot out of his grasp.
Bellamy scooted her even closer. "Just stop and listen to me. Please?"
It was the 'please' that did it. A man like Bellamy saying 'please' wasn't something to be taken likely.
She stopped fighting, giving him a curt nod, although her jaw was still set in a hard line as she tugged the sheet back up.
"She was hurting too," he told her, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the inside of her elbow. "She'd lost you too, and she knew it was mostly her fault, and she wanted someone to lash out at…somewhere else to place the blame."
"That doesn't make any of this okay," Clarke insisted curtly.
"No. It doesn't. But it…" he sighed, looked away from her. "It took me a long time to realize that's what she was doing. At first I thought she hated me but…she was just in pain," he finished with a slight shrug of his shoulder. "And she apologized, multiple times. That's what you walked in on Christmas morning. She was telling me she was wrong. She actually, uh…thought we were already together, by that point."
Clarke thought back, remembering the conversation that had abruptly ended when she'd walked into the kitchen.
"I'm serious, Clarke. I don't want this to be a problem for you two. She apologized. She and I are okay, mostly because we both know how much we both love you."
Clarke just watched him for a moment, chewing the side of her lower lip as she contemplated.
"You can go…yell at her…or whatever. Later," he clarified. "But I don't want to come between the two of you. Okay?"
She wrestled with it for another minute, searching his face to make sure he really seemed okay. "Fine," she agreed, letting out a long sigh that drained some of the tension from her body. "But mostly because leaving this bed…and you…is the last thing I want to do right now."
He chuckled, pulling her into his chest and wrapping an arm around her back. "I can handle that."
"I'm definitely yelling at her tomorrow, though."
She could hear the smile in his voice as he responded, "I can handle that, too."
She pulled back, searching his face intently. "You know what she said wasn't true, right? Not at all."
"I mean, I think logically, I did. But at first…" he shrugged, obviously still uncomfortable. "I still didn't understand why you'd left like you did and…I couldn't help but wonder if there was some truth to it."
"Bellamy, no."
"She wasn't wrong. I had been pining for a long time. I kept thinking back…going over our interactions…trying to remember if I'd ever said or done anything out of line. If you'd ever seemed…"
Clarke put her hands on either side of his neck, which meant the sheet didn't exactly stay where she'd tucked it around herself, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She forced him to look at her. "Stop it. Never, Bellamy. If anything, I was always looking for ways to spend more time around you...ways to get even closer to you."
He made a noise in his throat, something that sounded a little uncertain.
"I'm serious! Ever since we became friends…being with you has always made me feel…happy and safe in a way I've never felt before. But not safe in a boring way. You drive me insane and you challenge me and, the past few months, there's been this sexual tension that's made me feel like I'm going to spontaneously combust…but through it all, I knew how much you cared about me. I knew you'd do anything to protect me. I knew I could trust you. That's not…" she shook her head, deciding to go for broke. "Bell…that's a once in a lifetime kind of thing."
He looked a little stunned at that proclamation, but didn't say anything.
"I promise, nothing you did ever made me uncomfortable. Bell…I honestly didn't even start to think you might like me…like that…until a few months ago. Honestly, if anything, I couldn't be around you because you were too good to me."
He gave her a disbelieving side-eye.
"I'm not kidding. You made me feel safe and happy and…loved, even when we were just friends," she admitted. "You always tried to absolve me of my guilt, take on my burdens so I wouldn't have to shoulder so much. And I…I didn't think I deserved that, Bell. I didn't think I deserved you," she said quietly, but with no hesitation. "Me leaving was my own fucked up fault. Don't blame yourself for that, ever."
He watched her for a minute, trying to gauge her sincerity, then nodded subtly, pulling her against his chest.
She sighed against him, feeling even more of the tension drain out of her as she relaxed into the warmth of his body.
"So what you're saying is…I should've been more of an ass," he teased.
She snorted. "Yes. That's exactly what I'm saying."
They both chuckled for a minute, just holding onto each other, until Bellamy shifted a bit nervously. "Clarke?"
"Hmm?" she murmured against his chest.
"The uh…" he cleared his throat. "The 'once in a lifetime' thing? For me too."
She closed her eyes, letting the happiness she was feeling consume her. She'd had a feeling, but it was nice to have it confirmed. "Yeah?" she whispered.
She could feel him nod against the top of her head. "Earlier, you were talking about how I didn't have to commit to a label or some shit and all I could think was that I'd marry you tomorrow if you'd have me."
Clarke's breath caught in her chest and she leaned back, needing to see his face. "You're…insane," she attempted to joke, kind of needing a moment to process and also kind of giving him a chance to turn that proclamation into a joke in case he regretted it already.
He smiled softly at her. "Am I?"
She let herself get lost in the warmth of his eyes. "No," she admitted quietly.
He wasn't actually proposing; that much she knew, no matter how her heart had kicked into overdrive at his words. He was telling her that he was so sure of their future, so sure that they were a forever kind of thing, he'd have no problem making that official immediately if that was what she wanted.
He was telling her he was in.
For life, if she'd have him.
"We were idiots, weren't we?" she asked quietly, still a little lost in his eyes.
"Yes," he admitted without hesitation, then asked for clarification. "Which time?"
"We could've been doing this for years," she lamented. "Seriously. Like…five or six years of cuddling and the best sex I've ever had in my life and feeling like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be. What the fuck was wrong with us?"
He was watching her with a look that was a little unreadable. "I don't know, Clarke."
She tilted her head in confusion. She'd sort of expected immediate agreement, especially since he was the one that had been aware of his feelings for much longer. "What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "Maybe we weren't ready," he admitted quietly. "I loved you back then. I did. And I like to think that I would have been able to man up and be the guy you deserved. I would have tried my damndest, I know that. But sometimes, I'm not sure it would've been enough. Maybe we would've fought over something idiotic or maybe one of us would've made a stupid mistake and the other one wouldn't have been able to forgive them. I loved you back then…but it's nothing compared to how I feel now. Getting to know all of you…losing you for a while…realizing how damn important you are to me…I love you even more now. Enough to know that fights and stupid mistakes…none of it matters. You matter," he said fiercely. "I like to think we could've made it, that we would've matured together and still gotten here. But what we have now? The relationship we have now? It's everything, Clarke. So I can't be all that sorry about five years of the best friendship I've ever had, even if it meant I had to pine like an idiot. I can't even be all that sorry about the year I spent in agony, missing you. Because it all got us here. And now? I have zero doubts about us making it."
Clarke processed that for a minute, recognizing the truth in his words and nodding a bit. "I didn't really start to realize how important you were to me until I lost you," she admitted quietly. "Which, I know, makes me an idiot. But when I realized that, yeah, I missed other people…Raven, your sister…even my mom…but I…" she closed her eyes for a second, her voice catching on the admission. "God, Bellamy, I ached for you. It felt like there was a hole in my chest and I didn't even realize you'd been occupying the space until you were already gone. And even then, I pushed my feelings away," she said frustratedly. "So maybe you're right. Maybe there was too much stupidity and immaturity and uncertainty and pride and shit in the way. I don't know, Bell. I like to think we would have made it, though…that we wouldn't have let this get away."
He picked up her hand, pressing his lips gently to her palm in that patented move that made her knees weak every time. "Me too," he said softly.
"But you're right," she agreed, gently removing her hand from his grip and sliding it to his cheek. "The way I know you now? The relationship we have now? I wouldn't give that up for anything."
She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, and they kissed gently, his hands smoothing softly over her back, his touch letting her know how much he cherished her.
He pulled away slowly, kissing her cheek. "While we're confessing…You remember the house I wanted to build? The one I wasn't sure was in the cards?"
Clarke nodded.
"It wasn't really about money. I just…" he sighed, glancing away, a bit of color climbing his cheeks. "I pictured you there with me. I didn't really want it without you."
Every time Clarke thought she was in as deep as she could possibly go, that this man sitting in front of her couldn't possibly say or do anything that would make her fall in love with him more…he proved her wrong. "Bellamy…" she whispered, voice full of emotion. "Build it."
His eyes lit up with even more happiness, even more love, and she realized he was going through the same thing she was.
She decided to take a page out of his book, throwing caution to the wind and showing him just how in she was. "While we're confessing…" she said, deciding to go for broke and not even that nervous about it. "I want to have your babies."
He grinned, immediately pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that started off sweet and happy, then quickly morphed into something downright possessive, his lips demanding on hers.
He ended up pulling away, thunking his head down on her shoulder with a groan.
"What?" she chuckled.
"It's a good thing you're on the pill," he mumbled against her shoulder.
"Why?" she asked, absentmindedly running her hand through his hair.
"Because apparently I'm a caveman," he admitted wryly. "You said that and now all I can picture is you pregnant with my kid and…" he groaned again. "Fuck."
Clarke glanced down, the thin sheet over his lap doing little to hide exactly what his body's response to the thought of knocking her up was.
She felt an answering call in her own body, and then it was her turn to groan. "Yup. Good thing I'm on the pill," she agreed, scooting her body a little closer to his.
Honestly, it was kind of beautiful in all its primitiveness. They were both so certain about each other, the thought of a lifetime commitment…something as significant as a baby…didn't send them running for the hills. It was exciting.
Apparently, it also made them want to go at it like rabbits.
He pulled back a little to look at her. "The best sex of your life, huh?" he asked cheekily.
She swatted at his chest. "You know it was, jackass."
He caught her hand with a laugh. "For me too," he admitted.
She looked at him a bit dubiously.
He tugged on her hand, sending a wry smile her way. "You always bring up my shady past. I was young and stupid and shit like threesomes sounded like fun. But watching the woman you love throw her head back cause she can't handle how good you made her feel? Feeling her nails on your shoulders, her fingers tugging at your hair…begging you to make love to her?" his voice was getting lower, raspier with each sentence, and it was doing wicked things to her. "Hearing her scream your name when she comes and feeling her milk you dry and then curl up in your arms and tell you she loves you? Princess…that's the stuff fantasies are made of."
She went a little stupid at that speech, staring at him dumbfoundedly. Her brain might not have been firing on all cylinders at the moment, but her libido certainly was. She was just getting her legs underneath her, ready to throw herself at him when he said something else.
"You know…I have another fantasy I'd really like to experience," he said huskily.
"Oh?" she asked breathily. That's really all she could manage at the moment.
He nodded, drawing out the suspense for a moment before saying, in the sexiest voice she's ever heard, "It involves my head between your thighs."
She knew she let a whimper loose, but she couldn't bring herself to care, because suddenly they were kissing again; insistent, and dirty, and more than a little frantic.
Her hands were sliding over his shoulders, trying their best to hold on…to bring him even closer.
His hands were sliding all over her back and sides, then pushing the sheet away so he could pull her against him fully.
She sighed at the feeling of their bare chests sliding against each other, quickly deciding that it was one of her favorite feelings in the world, but then he was grabbing her around the waist, flipping her to her back, and kissing his way down her body, until his lips reached…
Oh.
That was also one of her favorite feelings in the world.
It really shouldn't surprise her that he was damn good at it.
She closed her eyes, letting him drive her crazy with his lips, and his tongue, and…
Oh, God.
Yup. That was definitely his teeth.
He built her up and up and up, licking into her in a way that had her toes curling and her hands grasping the sheets tangled on the bed beside her.
By the time he'd settled his tongue on her clit, lashing at it in an unpredictable pattern, and slid his fingers inside her, she was so so close.
The pleasure was building up inside her, threatening to consume her, and she glanced down, wanting to see him, to have a more tangible connection to him, but the sight of his dark curls between her legs was too much, and her eyes shut of their own accord.
"Bellamy," she managed to choke out. "Come here," she begged, reaching for him.
He reluctantly stopped what he was doing, looking at her with confusion.
"It's amazing. You're amazing," she reassured him, trying to put her thoughts into words, which was a little difficult with the haze of passion clouding her brain. "But I close my eyes and I'm afraid I'm still dreaming. I need to kiss you. I need to touch you."
It was hard for her to explain, and probably sounded silly, but after imagining this for so long and thinking she couldn't have it, she needed to feel him. She needed to be able to wrap her arms around him and hold on tight before she'd be able to let herself go.
Honestly, she just needed a little while for her body to be able to catch up to her mind in realizing that yes, she got to have this.
He slid up her body slowly, pressing sweet kisses along her torso and running his hands soothingly over her sides, which were shaking a little. "I got you, Princess. I'm here, you know that, right?"
"I know, Bell," she answered, pulling him down to kiss her. "I need you," she whispered against his lips.
His kissed her, his body firm and heavy on top of hers, fitted against her like a puzzle piece, and she let herself drown in it. In him.
They'd have time to learn each other's bodies later…time to try the dozens of things they'd both been fantasizing about for ages.
They'd have all the time in the world.
This was what she needed right now, while she was still getting used to the fact that her wildest dream was coming true.
She needed him pressed against her from head to toe, his lips on hers, him losing control at the same time she did as he was buried as deep inside her as he could possibly go.
After being denied for so long, she needed all of him.
He seemed to understand, because he kissed her impossibly sweetly, murmuring how much he loved her against her ear as he reached down, positioning himself at her entrance.
As he slid slowly inside, kissing at her cheek and jaw the entire time, she couldn't help it when her eyes practically rolled back in her head and her heels slid restlessly against the sheets.
It was so good.
She couldn't help but marvel at how perfect it was between them.
He fit inside her perfectly, in a way she didn't think was even possible. Any larger, and it would probably be uncomfortable, but he was just big enough to give her that delicious stretch…the one that added that tiny bit of pain that made the pleasure more incredible. The one that allowed her to feel every vein…every ridge…every twitch. The one that sent tremors of electricity through her entire body.
He didn't even have to move for it to feel fucking incredible.
"God, Bellamy," she moaned. "How do you feel so fucking perfect? It's like…" she paused, whimpering as he ground his hips in a tiny circle against hers. "…it's like we were made for each other."
He stilled against her for a moment, then moved, pulling almost all the way out before sliding all the way back in, getting her to make another one of those noises of complete abandon he was so fond of. He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her mouth, all so sweetly it almost brought tears to her eyes. "Haven't you figured it out by now?" he whispered. "We were."
Clarke gave herself over to everything he made her feel, letting herself go, because she knew he was right there with her. She knew he'd catch her.
She'd once lamented that having a best friend and lover all rolled into one could be awful, because losing both in one fell swoop would have to be agonizing.
But the thing is…it could also be amazing.
Because sometimes, you fell in love with them as a person before you fell in love with them as a potential partner, which made it all the more genuine.
Sometimes, you realized that having them in your life was more important than anything, which meant you'd do everything in your power to keep them.
Sometimes, you realized that attraction and lust weren't always enough, but when combined with trust and actual love, they could be indescribably wonderful.
Sometimes, you realized that everything from baking pies to watching classic sitcoms to having sex all felt different…were all so much better when they were done with someone you adored with your whole heart.
Falling in love with your best friend might not always be easy, but if it worked out?
That was a feeling like no other.
A/N:
THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone who's made it through all 38 chapters, 127k words, and 174 years of angst.
I know it sounds silly, but writing this was actually really personal and I feel like I left a little piece of my soul in it, so thank you to everyone who has read, left kudos, and especially those who have left comments. You guys have no idea how much comments mean whenever I'm having a bit of writer's block or when I'm feeling discouraged. It's really nice/validating to know when other people are enjoying what I've spent ages writing. (If you've made it this far, I'd LOVE to hear what you guys thought. *heart emoji*)
I've already got a few other fics in progress and ideas for a few more, (and I love this universe I've created, so future one-shots are always on the table here too,) so I hope you guys will check those out once I get them finished.
Anyway, come flail/yell at me/give me ideas on Twitter, if you'd like (notnicorette)
Thanks for reading, guys! *heart emoji*