@verbam

Summary: "Tell Raven to aim for the one spot of green, and you'll find me."

In which it's SpaceKru that falls to Earth during Clarke's final transmission. In which Madi and Clarke welcome them to Eden with open arms and eager hearts. In which the ground is flush with life and love and hope.

In which Bellamy and Clarke are ready--and willing--to be honest with each other.

Chapter: 1 of 3

Rating: M (E in later chapters)

Excerpt:

Bellamy’s surprised that he doesn’t feel the trepidation or fear the others clearly do. Strange, given the twin horrors have been his constant companion for the past six years and seven days.

Sometimes the both of them could be found in the double-beat of his heart: Stay a-live, stay a-live, stay a-live.

Well, if nothing else in this life, he can die well today knowing that he’s kept his promise to her.

They’re alive.

The next few hours will test all their calculations with what Bellamy knows will be an unexacting margin of error. Monty’s calculations are right, or they’re not. Raven will land them safely, or she won’t. So simple. So fucking, wonderfully simple.

Bellarke + Subtle Melancholy 

This happens to me and the hubs often!

It’s just such a tiny little thing that honestly isn’t even *that* big of a deal, but then you realize it’s not nearly as common with couples of the same race and you’re just like...oh, right.

verbam replied to your post “A ficlet I’m not gonna write because it will hit too close to home:...”

:(

*thanks boo*

practicingproductivity replied to your post “A ficlet I’m not gonna write because it will hit too close to home:...”

That sucks.

practicingproductivity replied to your post “A ficlet I’m not gonna write because it will hit too close to home:...”

Shit. The assumptions people make. Jfc. Like that anyone puts any thought into making an assumption like that, just boggles my mind.

I also had an anon that asked for Bellamy waking up with morning wood and Clarke taking care of it, so let’s just consider this two birds/one stone.

Something soft touches her shoulder, and it takes Clarke a few seconds to surface and realize it’s Bellamy mouthing at her skin, sleepy and mussed just like her.  She shifts and her ass presses against his cock and her body starts to wake.  Bellamy’s hand drifts to her hip, holding her in place so he can grind against her, and Clarke twists her head back to kiss him.  It’s sloppy, her mouth only half meeting his lips, but it doesn’t matter.  She’s fully awake now, her body already aching for him.  

Bellamy pulls her hips back and slides his cock between her thighs, the tip bumping into her clit at just the right angle.  She never bothered to put her panties on last night, a fact she’s grateful for when his cock thrusts forward again, her wetness easing the way.  She gasps, a puff of air against his lips, and Bellamy nudges her to her stomach.  Clarke accidentally knocks her pillow to the floor and buries her face in the mattress, biting back an impatient groan.  Telling Bellamy to just get on with it usually leads to agonizing minutes of teasing touches that are almost what she needs but not quite.  And what she needs right now is for him to fuck her, so she opens her legs and lets Bellamy shove her shirt— his shirt, actually— up a little higher around her stomach.

He’s heavy on top of her, but it’s a good heavy, a grounding weight that makes her feel encompassed and loved and wanted, and then he nudges her knee up just a little farther to open her up for him.  His hands curl around hers as he eases inside of her and Clarke turns her face so she can breathe, his cock filling her.

Like always, he waits just a heartbeat too long.  Bellamy likes to hear her moan before he starts to thrust, and even though he can’t get deep like this it feels so right, so perfect, that she’s keening in minutes.  His breath fans her neck and he kisses her jaw, his hips moving against her ass as he pushes in and pulls out, the movement making her clit drag against the sheets.  It’s easy and good and Clarke shoves her face into the mattress when she starts to rise, the need inside of her coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

When she comes it’s like a wave cresting and crashing on the shore while another one builds inside of her.  Clarke trembles and Bellamy grunts, hoarse and close, and then he’s swelling and letting go inside of her, hot and hard and perfect.

Clarke relaxes, melting into the bed, and Bellamy pulls out so he can lift himself off of her and lay down next to her, his face on the mattress just inches away.  “Morning,” she says, and he laughs.

YES YES YES THANK YOU