Chapter 6: Bellamy (III)

Chapter Summary

Clarke Griffin is one of the smartest people he knows, so her obliviousness to his pathetic infatuation with her is truly mind-boggling.

Chapter Notes:

This chapter ended up being a lot of smuff, but I liked how it turned out (and I hope you will, too).

Bellamy isn't completely convinced that this isn't just a vivid dream. His mind goes blank as he takes in the incredible sight in front of him. He finally, finally gets to see the curves that have haunted him for years.

He finds that for all her self-confidence, Vulnerable-Clarke is a thing of beauty. In his (many, many) fantasies, Clarke is a ball-buster. He fully expects for her to be criticizing his technique and ordering him around. Really, her bossy demeanor in the hallway is right in line with his expectations. So when she closes her knees shut and she hides herself from him, he's a little taken aback. He knows a lot of her sexual experience is with women, and as far as he knows, being eaten out is like, the main staple of girl-on-girl sex. Or maybe it's not. He should check on that, but he thinks now would not be a good time to ask.

So yeah, the shy thing is unexpected. He takes a slow approach, suddenly worried she'll bolt if startled. He finds out quickly that she responds best when talked to, and that's something he can definitely work with. And just like that, she's back into it. He explores her with his hands, his mouth, his tongue... He revels in each and every little mewl he draws from her body, lingers on the spots that have her keening. And fuck, the noises she makes…

When Clarke comes, she doesn't hold anything back, and she sounds, looks, feels so beautiful he almost forgets what he's doing. When she stops trembling, Bellamy crawls up her body, admires the twitches of her skin when he gently brushes it with his fingers, smiles at the goosebumps that take form in their wake. He commits to memory the feel of her soft skin under his hands. Bellamy studies her face, trails his fingers over her soft features, memorizing what she looks like in this moment. He's never seen her look this content before and he tries to suppress a surge of arrogance knowing he made her this way. He feels a sudden wave of disappointment when he thinks that this may be his only chance to see her this way. A large part of him worries that this might be a one-time deal for her. That she'll get him out of her system and move on. If that's the case, he'll take as much of her as he can get. Make every bit count, right?

She opens her eyes and he's floored by their depths. Yeah, he's kind of always stunned by her, but this time it's different. She's opened and bared herself to him, but he can see the anxiety building inside of her the longer she feels exposed like this. He desperately wants those walls of hers to stay down for him, wants her to let him in, but he's worried that whatever he says will scare her away. So he sweeps a stray hair out of her face and shows her she's safe. He takes her lips with his (which has the added benefit of keeping his mouth busy so he can't say stupid shit like 'I love you' or some other sentiment that will have her running for the hills). Because fuck he wants this. He wants her. And at this point, he's pretty sure that "want" has become need.

Bellamy kisses her slowly and gently. She hesitates at first, but he's insistent, and it doesn't take long for her to respond with enthusiasm. The atmosphere shifts and he feels her unease dissipate. He can see a peace in her that he hopes has something to do with him.

"You're fucking beautiful." He thinks maybe he should've come up with something better than that, but then she's smiling at him like he hung the fucking moon, so he thinks yeah, that'll work for now. Then she tells him he's "fucking incredible" and it makes his chest squeeze a little, so he laughs to cover up the choked sound he's sure is begging to leave his throat. He's shocked to shit to learn that she's been wanting this for years. Clarke Griffin is one of the smartest people he knows, so her obliviousness to his pathetic infatuation with her is truly mind-boggling. They tease each other and a sense of normalcy returns in their familiar banter. In Bellamy's opinion, the playful shift in mood is a welcome one because playful easily becomes sensual. She wraps her legs around his calves, teasingly dragging one of her feet along. If she's hoping to get a reaction out of him, she's succeeding. He responds with a rock of his hips, and when she deliberately squirms underneath him, a jolt of arousal shoots from his core to his fingertips.

Bellamy delights in the way her eyes darken when he tells her, "I'm just getting started, Princess." He's already found his favorite spot on Clarke (besides the obvious ones). It's just below her earlobe and her breath hitches when he laves his tongue over it just right, so he makes it a point to mark it as his every chance he can get. He thinks she's probably gonna be pissed when she sees it and she'll rip him a new one for his caveman behavior, but he just can't ignore the opportunity to lay claim to her body in some way.

"I've wanted you…" He tangles a hand in her hair so he can see his mark better, pleased with the way its vibrant color pops against the pale flesh of her neck. "I've wanted you… for so long, Clarke."

She releases a shuddering moan. "Then show me, Bellamy." He thinks he might never get tired of hearing her say his name. But he's pretty sure he'll like it even more if he can make her scream it. She pulls his face back down to hers and captures his lips in a searing kiss. She pushes his face away again and looks him in the eyes and demands again, "Show me." He intends to spend the rest of the night doing exactly that. He peppers gentle kisses on her face, lets his hands and eyes explore the soft curves of her body, revels in her wanton sighs…

"Bellamy," she whines, "I need you…"

He huffs a laugh as he kisses her forehead, "What if I wanna look at you some more?"

If a facial expression could growl, that's what Clarke's would be doing. "You can look later…" She bucks her hips up, gasping when the head of his cock grazes her clit, "After you fuck me…"

Bellamy shakes his head with an amused grin, "God, you're bossy."

She responds with a raised eyebrow and another upward thrust of her hips, "And that surprises you?"

He rises off of her, rolling his eyes with a smirk, "Not even a little bit, Princess."

He bends down and reaches to grab his jeans off the floor. He fishes his wallet out of the pocket and opens it up to retrieve the emergency condom he keeps in there. It's gone, replaced by a folded-up note:

"I.O.U. one condom –O."

On one hand, he's proud of his little sister for practicing safe sex. On the other hand, he's appalled that his little sister is having sex. And for as much as she busts his balls about Clarke, she sure did a bang-up job of cock-blocking him…

"The fuck are you doing over there, Bellamy?"

He holds the loathsome piece of paper between his index and middle fingers and hands it over to Clarke. She reads it and breaks out in uncontrollable laughter, "Oh my god, this is poetic."

Bellamy tries to stay irritated, but her laugh is contagious. Still, he wants to know, "Exactly how the hell does this qualify as poetic?"

Clarke shakes her head, "Remember that week when you stayed on our couch while they fixed the plumbing in your apartment?"

Bellamy nods, "Yeah. What does that have to do with anything?"

Clarke grins. "Well, one day, she ran out of condoms so she asked me for some, but I didn't have any, so I told her to go raid your wallet because you were in the shower and wouldn't notice…" After her cackling dies down, she shakes her head and haphazardly tosses the piece of paper off to the side. "I'm on birth control and I'm clean. When were you last tested?"

Bellamy feels his brows furrow, "Six months ago."

"Clean?"

He nods, "As a whistle."

"Okay, and how many partners since then?"

He rolls his eyes, "None. But I've never not used a condom in my life." He groans, "You're killing me with the questions, Princess."

Clarke gawks, her mouth dropped open in disbelief, "Bellamy Blake going six months without sex?!" He doesn't correct her, keeping to himself the fact that it's been much longer than six months.

Bellamy half-teases, half-laments, "Laugh it up. This is on you, Princess."

She recoils slightly, confusion etched on her face, "Me? How is it my fault?"

He sighs, slightly annoyed that he's having to think about this right now, "Because nobody else is you, Clarke… And you being on my mind while I'm fucking someone else has proven to be… hazardous."

She frowns, stunned, "I was on your mind?"

Bellamy nods with an unconvinced laugh, "I find it hard to believe O didn't tell you about this."

"Tell me about what?"

He sighs, "Remember the black eye?"

She gives him a sidelong glance, "Uh, the one you got for hitting on some guy's girlfriend in front of him?"

Bellamy shakes his head, "That's not exactly what happened." He stares fixedly at a spot on the ceiling, "I may have called someone by your name while fucking her. She was… displeased."

Clarke doesn't say anything at first. She just opens her mouth and closes it a few times before finally asking, "How long?"

He furrows his brows, "How long what?"

Her frown is disconcerting. "How long have I been a… problem for you?"

He scoffs, "You're not a 'problem,' Clarke. But if you're asking how long I've been hopelessly hooked on you…"

Bellamy doesn't finish the sentence, so Clarke asks again as she turns toward the side of her bed and pulls her knees up to her chest to wrap her arms around them, "How. Long?" He hates that she's physically shutting him out now and he's at a loss for what to do about it.

"Long." She raises an eyebrow, clearly wanting a better answer, so he mumbles under his breath, "O's senior prom."

"So we've wasted what, seven years pining after each other?"

Bellamy's eyes dart to hers, not quite believing what he's hearing. "What?"

Her voice is barely audible, "Well, seven years for you. More like ten for me…" She looks down, absentmindedly picking at her comforter and huffs, "So if we're in a contest for who has been 'hopelessly hooked' longer… I win."

Bellamy shakes his head with a sardonic laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Complete fucking idiots…"

Clarke is uncharacteristically quiet so he looks back up at her and sees her blinking back tears. He brings a thumb up to catch one that escapes when she closes her eyes. Her voice is shakes, "I fucked this up, didn't I? The moment's gone." She sniffs again and Bellamy is honestly confused. He cups the back of her neck, turns her to face him and shakes his head, lost for words. Clarke squeezes her eyes shut harder and huffs, "Yeah, it's rui-"

He cuts her off, pulling her face to his and crushing their lips together in a bruising kiss. She chokes out a sob, but he finds relief when she meets his force with desperate intensity. He brings his other hand to her cup her face in a frantic attempt to physically ground her in this moment. He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against hers, trying like hell to pull her out of her own mind. Because yeah, he needs her like he needs oxygen.

"Clarke…" He strokes her cheeks with his thumbs, "You're fucking perfect, okay?" He pulls back so he can see her face because he needs her to believe him. Her eyes are still closed and her trembling lips are shaped into a heartbreaking curve. "Look at me, Clarke. Please." After a deep breath she opens her eyes back up. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

She wipes her tears away, "What if-" She starts again, "What if seven years was for nothing?"

Bellamy frowns, "What does that mean?" He feels some of that panic returning, that he's a distraction for her, that he's just something she needs to get out of her system.

"What if we're not… compatible?" Okay, she said 'compatible' which implies long-term considerations, so that's a step in the right direction. But he needs her to not write this off before he has a chance to prove to her just how compatible they can be… She sighs, "What if the sex is bad, and we've been wanting each other for so long, only to be disappointed?"

He gives her a meaningful look, "Then we try again, Clarke. We keep trying until we get it right. Okay?"

Her eyes meet his with startling intensity and she nods. "Okay…" He watches with admiration as her demeanor transforms from timid to poised. She nods again, self-assured. "Okay."

Bellamy feels a smile stretch across his face when she lets her knees fall back down and draws him close to her. She pulls him back over her so he's nestled between her opened legs, and he's beyond pleased that she's come back to him. "Are we good?"

She nods before she draws him into a warm, deep kiss. "We don't need a condom – I'm covered and we're both clean. I want you, and just you inside of me." He's kind of freaking out inside because he's never had sex without protection. Not that he thinks he'd need protection with Clarke. It's just... momentous somehow. He's pretty sure she can feel his thundering heartbeat in his chest when she places her palm over it, but takes solace in the fact that hers is beating just as wild. He groans when she reaches between them, wrapping her small hand around his shaft and guiding him to her (thankfully still very wet) entrance. He rocks against her, sliding his cock against her clit, coating himself in her arousal. She shifts her hips like she's trying to catch him. He would chuckle at her eagerness if he wasn't still worried about her bolting.

She moans, "Bell, stop teasing and fuck me."

Bellamy nods with a wolfish smile as he finally begins to push into her. He tries to go slow, but she impatiently thrusts her hips against him, sheathing him just barely inside of her before she cries out. And it's not a good cry. It's a pained cry. Like, the bad kind of pain.

He pulls out immediately, "Shit. Shit, Clarke… Are you..."

She shakes her head, understanding his question. "No, I'm not a virgin or anything. I just-" She worries her lower lip between her teeth, avoiding his gaze, "I've only been with one guy." She looks back at Bellamy, "and I wasn't any good at it."

Bellamy's heart aches at her words, and a lot of things about this evening are starting to make sense. Like why she was so shy when he said he wanted to go down on her. He wonders what or who could have made Clarke feel like that – likeshe wasn't "any good." He's angry that someone would make her feel like it was her fault. He bites back his fury as he grinds out the name between clenched teeth. "Finn."

She nods in the affirmative, "So it's obviously been a while, too."

If Bellamy didn't hate the guy before, he certainly does now. "You know that's bullshit, right?"

"What is?"

"That you're not any good at it."

She shrugs, "Well, I never got much enjoyment out of it, and he made it pretty clear that I was the only girl he fucked who had any complaints, so the problem was with me, not him..."

Bellamy shakes his head, "Well, he's full of shit." A pauses a moment and looks back toward the direction of the hallway, "But what about-"

She snorts a laugh, "The toys?"

He smirks, "Yeah... Those."

"I use them for… experimentation, I guess. But you're a lot… thicker than those are. And longer. But it's the girth that I wasn't… prepared for."

He tries (and fails) to keep a shit-eating grin off his face. She laughs (thank god) and smacks at his chest, "Yeah, you're hung and a sex god. Go ahead and revel in it."

He looks at Clarke, sees her confidence warring with misplaced insecurity. "Alright." He sits up, guiding her to do the same. "Let's try something else." She raises an eyebrow in question. He straightens his legs and pulls her into his lap so she can straddle him, "We do this at your pace, okay?" Clarke needs her control back. He suspects the entirety of her sexual experience with men has been wrought with lack of control, being given no options. Bellamy tasks himself with reversing whatever damage Finn Fucking Collins did to her sexual confidence.

Bellamy's voice lowers, "I'm gonna show you how good you are…" He brings his hand down to her heat, parting her folds with his fingers. He trails his free hand up and down her spine, peppering kisses along her collarbone and up her neck then whispers against her lips, "Relax for me."

She nods and presses her lips to his, shivering as he continues to caress her body and explore her pussy with his fingers. He can feel her loosen up as she breaks their kiss and drops her head back. He slips one finger inside of her, then two, gradually stretching them out inside of her and breathing a sigh of relief as she relaxes her inner walls. He uses the heel of his hand to rub her clit, reveling in the increased arousal dripping out of her.

He smiles when she gasps, "That feels really good."

"Tell me what you need," he whispers into her neck before attaching his lips to his spot.

She nods as she tangles her fingers in his hair, "More of that thing you do inside of me. You know earlier when you-" She's cut off by her own gasp as he crooks his fingers against that spongy spot inside of her. "-fuck, yes, that." Bellamy doubles his efforts as she rocks her hips against his hand and it doesn't take long for her walls to start fluttering around his fingers.

"That's it, Princess… I've got you. You're almost there, I can feel it..." He can't hold back his own moan as he watches her near the edge. "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

She comes with a sob, clenching rhythmically around his fingers, and his mind goes a little hazy thinking about what she'll feel like once he's truly inside of her. She drops her head to his shoulder as the aftershocks of orgasm quake through her.

He keeps his fingers sheathed inside of her, waits for her to come down from her high. He relishes her lazy smile when she picks her head up off his shoulder to look at him.

"You doing alright?"

She nods, "Yeah. I'm ready, Bellamy."

Bellamy pulls his fingers out of her and smiles soothingly, "Go slow this time, yeah?"

Clarke nods as she grasps his cock in her hand and positions herself above him. Bellamy groans she rubs the head along her slit to gather the copious fluids gathered there. She bites down on her lip, a line forming between her eyebrows as she starts to sink down around him. He hates that he's the reason for the pained look on her face, but his mind goes blank with bliss as the bulbous head of his cock sinks slowly into her warmth. He thinks, no wonder she was hurting, because holy fuck, she's so tight around him. She hisses at the aching twinge as she adjusts to his intrusion.

He feels her start to tense up again, so he soothingly brushes his fingers up and down her sides, "Shhh, I got you…" He brings a thumb to her clit, hoping to give her something pleasurable to counteract the discomfort. She breathes deeply and he feels her vice-like grip loosens enough to slowly let the rest of him in. He rests his free hand on her hip as he presses his forehead to hers and rubs gentle circles into her skin with his thumb.

Bellamy's voice is a strangled moan, "You feel so goddamn good around me, Clarke…" Her leg muscles relax and she sinks the rest of the way down. "So good around me like this..." He can't hold back a growl as he bottoms out inside of her.

"More…" She breathes in her ear.

He smirks, "You want me to talk dirty?"

She nods and presses open-mouth kisses to his neck. He grins. This he can do, though it is a little more difficult to formulate sentences when she's wrapped around him like this.

"Fuck, Clarke, you're so warm and wet around me… so fucking wet… Your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock, baby, so good…"

He feels her loosen up as he talks. She stills herself and lets her body unwind around him, rakes her fingers through his wild hair. His body shudders when she brings her hands to his ears and rubs his earlobes between her thumb and forefingers. He decides that he likes that, a fucking lot. When he tells her as much, she laughs and it sounds like fucking music to his ears. She's probably as relaxed as she's gonna get, at least until she starts moving, but she remains calm and quiet around him. He thinks that's probably for the best since he's dangerously close to blowing his load and he's not sure how long he's gonna last.

"How do I feel inside of you, Clarke?"

She sighs and it sounds like a purr. Her voice smiles, "So. Goddamn. Good." She smiles and closes her eyes as she drops her head back down on his shoulder. "You're so fucking deep inside of me, Bell… I've never felt so full… so stretched like this, before." He tries not be excessively proud of that. (He definitely is…).

She moves her hips experimentally, first shifting side to side with a disappointed sigh, then clumsily up and down a few times. For Bellamy, it all feels incredible, but judging by the frustrated expression on her face, she's not getting a lot out of it. He has to wonder if Collins let her fuck in any position besides missionary, because she seems lost. (He's irritated that that asshole keeps making an appearance in his thoughts right now, even if it is only in conversations with himself). Clarke huffs with a pleading look, so he brings his hands to her waist and guides her hips in a slow, gentle rocking motion. He's nothing short of thrilled at the throaty moan that escapes her.

"That – I like that…" Unsurprisingly, Clarke is a quick study. She takes over quickly, alternating the hip-rocking with a languid circular up-and-down motion. He's having trouble keeping his eyes open right now, hardly able to function when he's balls deep inside of her, but seeing the satisfaction on Clarke's face makes it more than worth the effort.

Then it's like a flip is switched inside of her. A sanguine expression graces her features, and Bellamy thinks, holy shit… She speeds up the tempo and establishes a delicious rhythm. She's warm and slick, and sure enough, the tension inside of her has vanished. She grins and places a hand on his chest, pressing firmly. "Lie down, Bell."

He complies with a raised eyebrow. She looks like she's still formulating a plan, so he uses this time to pore over her body. He drags his fingertips along the smooth skin of her thighs and up her torso, smiling at the way she shivers under his touch. He cups her tits, marvels at their heaviness in each palm. And when he rakes his thumbnail over her sensitive nipples, he's rewarded with a guttural moan and a powerful clenching of her inner walls around him. Her eyes close and her mouth falls open in a perfect "O" shape, and when she drags her tongue teasingly along her upper lip, he almost comes right then and there.

"Clarke," he growls warningly, "I'm not gonna last long if you keep that shit up."

Still grinding shallowly, she looks down pointedly where his hands are groping her tits. "Nobody to blame but yourself," she tells him breathlessly.

"Touché" He huffs.

She continues to grind herself above him, and he thinks she looks like she's dancing above him. Or on him. Whatever, it's fucking hot.

With her newfound confidence comes a thirst for dominance, and he's more than happy to let her have it (this time, anyway). She drags her fingernails firmly down his arms until she reaches his hands, and in a move that has his cock twitching, she intertwines their fingers and raises them above his head, leaning over him and pinning them to the mattress with her lithe arms. She is surprisingly strong. Yeah, he could easily overpower her, but there's no way he's taking this away from her right now. He can see that the change in angle allows constant stimulation of her clit by his pubic bone, and he's definitely a fan of the way her tits press against his chest while she grinds and thrusts against him.

"Bellamy I need-"

"I know, I know..." Bellamy anchors his feet and thrusts up into her in sync with her grinding motions. Clarke approves. Loudly.

"Fuck, Bellamy! Like that – keep doing that!" They meet each other thrust for thrust, creating a delicious friction that has her keening above him. Just when he thinks she's going to come undone, she switches it up. He wonders (with a smug grin) where she got that idea. She tightens her grip on his wrists, squeezing them to direct his attention.

"Keep them there," she tells him with narrowed eyes.

Bellamy nods, completely stunned by this turn of events. He's definitely not complaining. Still grinding herself slowly and deeply against him, she rolls her body back up, dragging – no, digging – her fingernails into the sensitive undersides of his arms as she rises to a seated position. She places her hands on his chest to balance herself as she starts to move her body with more vigor. He lasciviously rakes his eyes over Clarke's body as it stretches and curves above him, her tits bouncing with every roll of her hips. He glances at the junction between them and is completely fascinated by the visual of her pussy stretched over his cock, mesmerized as he watches himself disappear in her.

"Bellamy," She smirks down at him, seemingly entertained by his greedy facial expression.

He looks up at her and clears his throat, "Hmm?"

"Touch me."

Bellamy thinks, finally and thank god because he was about to lose his shit, being unable to feel her skin under his fingers. "Where do you want me to touch you, Clarke?"

She smiles, "Give me your hands." He brings his hands to hers and she guides them to her tits. "Here." Clarke catches his stupid grin and laughs in amusement, "You're a boob guy, aren't you?"

Bellamy smirks, "For yours, I am…" He squeezes them, tweaks her nipples (and he's loving her response to that). "Fucking look at them, Clarke – they're fantastic."

Normally, Bellamy is not one to give up control like this. He's a dyed-in-the-wool "Alpha Male" and all that shit. But watching Clarke Griffin use his body like her favorite sex toy? Yeah, he's a fan. (And no, the sex toy comparison does not escape him). She savors her power, and that's worth his initial unease with relinquishing his control.

She beams at him and a wanton growl escapes her as he pinches her nipples between his fingers. "Oh, fuck, Bell!" Her movements above him speed up and become increasingly unconstrained as she chases her orgasm. Her voice is raspy, "I like that. Remember that one… I like it a lot." He thrusts harder up into her, trying to give her as much stimulation as she can handle, and the response he gets is fucking splendid. "Oh god, Bell… I'm so close!" She bends forward again, crashing her mouth onto his, and he's overwhelmed by the passion escaping this woman. "Bellamy, I need you to come with me… come in me… Please!"'

Bellamy nods fervently, barely able to form a fucking sentence at this point, panting out "Are you close, baby?"

She nods, snaking her arms around his neck and shoulders, crushing herself into him. He follows suit, wrapping his arms around her back and holding her close to him while she writhes against him in the best possible way.

She cries out "I'm about to—Oh god, I'm gonna-"

"Fuck, Clarke!"

And that's all it takes for him to fucking erupt. He drives his cock deep into her and holds himself there to relish the way her inner walls pulsate powerfully around him, milking him for everything he's got. Her body practically vibrates above him and he's pretty sure he's died and gone to heaven.

They stay like that for a while, sticky with sweat but oh-so sated. Bellamy is strangely turned on by the sensation of his cum (and he's realizing there's a lot of it) dripping back out of her while she recovers, still sheathing him inside of her trembling body. They remain wrapped up around each other for a while, comfortable in their silence while he caresses her spine with his fingers.

"Bellamy?"

"Yeah, Clarke?"

"That was fucking incredible."

Bellamy huffs a laugh, "I think that's an understatement."

She chuckles with him.

He asks, "You still worried about compatibility?"

Clarke shakes her head, "Not even a little bit."

"Good." They're quiet for a few more moments. "And Clarke?"

"Hmm?"

"Never, ever let it be said that you aren't 'any good' at sex."

She lifts her head up to face him with breathtaking sincerity in her eyes, "I think I was just with the wrong person."

Bellamy cradles her face in his hands, "You're fucking incredible."

Clarke presses her lips to his and brings him into a scorching kiss, igniting his blood with its intensity. He's pretty sure he'll never get tired of kissing Clarke Griffin.

After a heavy makeout session (which, do you still call it "making out" when you're an adult?), Clarke tells him they need to clean up because she "just put these sheets on this afternoon, and we're gonna get them all dirty." They wrap themselves in towels, ready to dart across the hallway, when they see that the toys were never picked up (they were a little preoccupied), so they quickly gather them and toss them into her room before dashing to the bathroom.

In the shower, they learn that Clarke really, really likes being fucked up against a wet tile wall. She tells him to remember that. Like he'd ever forget.

After their shower (during which they definitely ran out of hot water), they step into the hallway and hear that O and Raven have returned and are chatting in the living room.

He hears Raven's voice, "So how did you know which box had all her sex toys?"

Octavia snorts, "She had labeled it 'Clarke's – do not open' with a fuck ton of exclamation points. It was pretty fucking obvious." Clarke looks slightly offended that her friends find her so predictable.

Raven laughs, "Oh, Clarke..." She pauses a second, then asks, "Wait, how did you know Bellamy was going to be the one carrying it when the tape gave out?"

"Actually, that was just fate. I figured if Bellamy even heard about Clarke having sex toys, it would put him in a dirty frame of mind and hopefully sway his brain to make an actual fucking move on her…"

They hear Raven's trademark cackling, "You Blakes and your dirty minds…"

Octavia laughs, "It was fucking destiny or something. I almost couldn't believe the luck of Bellamy actually being the one who was carrying the box."

Raven gasps, "That's why you were flying out of the apartment before I even said anything."

"Yeah, I saw him pick up the box and pretty much knew what would be happening next…"

Bellamy hears both girls laughing like goddamn hyenas, but can't find it in himself to judge their scheming. Because really, no complaints here.

End Chapter Notes:

So, we got a look into the source Clarke's vulnerability. And a change up from Bellamy's typical alpha-male persona.

I'm supposed to be packing, not writing... because we move into our new house at the end of the month (yay!) But I much prefer procrastination... Once I do stop procrastinating, updates will be farther apart for a little while, just until we get settled in.

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Last, but not least, thank you guys so very much for reading!