Archive of Our Own

The snow fell gently outside the window, muffling the sounds of the bustling city below. Clarke Griffin sat on the edge of the bathtub in their small but cozy apartment, her hands trembling slightly as she held the white plastic stick.

Two lines.

Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat louder than the last. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror above the sink, her pale blue eyes wide with disbelief. This wasn’t part of the plan—not yet, anyway.

It was December 23rd, and they were supposed to be packing for a Christmas Eve road trip to visit Bellamy’s family. The past year had been full of milestones: Bellamy had finally landed his dream job as a high school history teacher, and Clarke had left behind her half-hearted med school path to fully embrace her career as a graphic designer. Together, they had decided to put roots down, signing the papers for their first house just two months ago.

And now this.

Clarke placed the test down on the counter, her mind racing. She and Bellamy had always talked about kids—in the abstract. Someday. Someday wasn’t supposed to be now. But as the initial wave of shock began to ebb, something else started to take its place: warmth, joy, and maybe even excitement.

“Clarke?” Bellamy’s voice broke through her thoughts, accompanied by a knock on the bathroom door. “You okay in there? You’ve been in there a while.”

She scrambled to hide the test, tucking it behind a stack of towels. “Yeah! I’m fine,” she called, her voice a little too high-pitched.

There was a pause. “You sure? You don’t sound fine.”

Clarke sighed, running a hand through her golden hair. Bellamy knew her too well to be fooled. “Just… give me a second,” she said.

She heard him retreat, his footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the test and stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans before stepping out of the bathroom.

Bellamy was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. The scent of cinnamon and nutmeg filled the air—his attempt at a holiday-inspired hot chocolate recipe. He looked up as she entered, his dark eyes immediately scanning her face.

“You’re pale,” he said, setting the spoon down and walking over to her. “What’s going on?”

Clarke opened her mouth, the words catching in her throat. She stared up at him, his face etched with concern, and suddenly, she felt the weight of everything: the love they’d built over the years, the trust they’d nurtured, and the future they were about to create together.

Clarke slipped the pregnancy test into the pocket of her oversized sweater, her fingers brushing against the fabric as though the secret it held might somehow slip out. She turned to see Bellamy standing in the doorway of their bedroom, keys in hand, his brown leather jacket zipped up to fight off the December chill. His dark hair was slightly mussed, a familiar sign he’d been rushing around.

“You ready to hit the road?” he asked, his tone light.

Clarke nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I just need to grab my bag.”

He raised an eyebrow, studying her for a beat longer than usual. “You sure? You’ve been quiet all morning. Feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said, a little too fast. Then, softening her voice, she added, “Just tired. Probably too much packing and preparing last night.”

Bellamy seemed to accept her explanation, though his gaze lingered. “Alright,” he said, stepping closer to press a kiss to her forehead. “If you’re not feeling up to the drive, just let me know. I can take the first leg.”

“I’m good,” she assured him, her heart fluttering.

As they headed out, the snow crunched under their boots, and Clarke was grateful for the distraction of loading the car. The drive to their destination was long, but Bellamy had always loved road trips, filling the hours with his endless trivia about the history of every town they passed. Clarke usually loved that about him, but today her mind kept drifting back to the test in her pocket.

Octavia and her boyfriend Lincoln were already in town, staying at a nearby hotel. Clarke had spent so much of her childhood with Octavia that the two had practically been sisters. Seeing her again was something Clarke had been looking forward to for weeks, but now, the thought of facing her best friend while keeping such a monumental secret felt overwhelming.

“You’re going to see your old crew,” Bellamy said, snapping Clarke out of her thoughts. “You must be excited. It’s been a while since you’ve seen everyone, right?”

Clarke nodded. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

The car rumbled steadily as they left the city of Baltimore behind, the skyline disappearing in the rearview mirror. Clarke watched the city fade, her mind swirling with thoughts. Bellamy hummed softly to himself, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gear shift.

The road ahead stretched into the snowy woods, the trees towering on either side like silent sentinels. Snow clung to their branches, glistening in the faint afternoon sunlight. Clarke leaned her head against the cold glass window, the familiar landscape of Virginia slowly coming into view as they neared her hometown.

“It’s been a while since we’ve done this drive,” Bellamy said, breaking the silence.

Clarke nodded, her voice soft. “Yeah. I think the last time we came out here was for Thanksgiving two years ago.”

He glanced at her briefly, his warm brown eyes scanning her face before returning to the road. “You okay? You’ve been quiet.”

Clarke hesitated. She’d been quiet because her mind was on overdrive. Seeing her childhood home always stirred up a mix of emotions—good memories of running through the fields with Octavia, her best friend, but also the constant weight of expectations from her mother, Abby. And now, there was the secret she was carrying, a life-changing truth she hadn’t yet found the courage to share.

“I’m fine,” she said eventually, offering him a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“About your mom?” Bellamy asked gently.

“Yeah,” Clarke admitted. “And everything else. It feels… weird coming back.”

Bellamy reached over, his hand briefly squeezing hers. “It’s just for a couple of days. Besides, your mom loves having you around, even if she doesn’t always show it the best way.”

Clarke smiled faintly, appreciating his support. Abby Griffin was a force of nature—brilliant, headstrong, and demanding. She’d always expected perfection from Clarke, pushing her toward med school when Clarke’s heart had long belonged to art. Clarke knew her mother only wanted the best for her, but their relationship had been strained for years.

As they rounded a bend, the snowy woods opened up to reveal the small town Clarke had grown up in. Her breath caught as familiar landmarks came into view—the little diner where she and Octavia had spent countless afternoons sipping milkshakes, the bookstore where she’d worked part-time in high school, and the old movie theater with its crooked marquee.

Bellamy noticed her expression. “What’s going through your mind?” he asked, glancing at her.

“Memories,” Clarke said softly. “Good ones, mostly. It’s strange how a place can feel like it hasn’t changed at all, even when you have.”

Bellamy nodded, his grip on the wheel tightening slightly. Clarke knew this drive was probably stirring up memories for him too—memories of his own sacrifices, of the years he’d spent raising Octavia after their mother passed away.

Bellamy had been just 20 when their mother died, leaving him to take care of Octavia, who was only 13 at the time. He’d dropped out of college to work full-time, making sure she had everything she needed. Clarke admired his strength, even though she knew how much it had cost him.

“This town always reminds me of you and Octavia,” Clarke said, glancing at him.

Bellamy smirked. “What, the two scrappy kids who stuck out like sore thumbs in your fancy neighborhood?”

“You didn’t stick out,” Clarke said, her tone gentle. “You belonged. You always did.”

He glanced at her, his smirk softening into something more serious. “You’re the only one who ever made us feel that way.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they drove past Clarke’s old school and the park where she’d spent so many afternoons sketching with Octavia by her side. The town hadn’t changed much—the same red-brick storefronts, the same string lights draped across Main Street for the holidays.

As they neared her childhood home, Clarke’s stomach fluttered. The house loomed in the distance, its familiar white siding and blue shutters standing out against the snowy backdrop. It looked just as it had when she was a child, though it felt smaller now, as if time had shrunk it.

“You ready?” Bellamy asked, pulling into the driveway and turning off the engine.

Clarke nodded, her hand instinctively brushing against her pocket where the pregnancy test was hidden. She wasn’t ready—not entirely—but she’d face it all the same. This town, her mom, her past, and eventually, Bellamy.

“I’m ready,” she said, her voice steadier than she expected.

They stepped out into the crisp winter air, the crunch of snow beneath their boots. Clarke’s mom opened the front door, a warm smile on her face.

“Clarke, Bellamy,” Abby called, waving them inside. “Come in before you freeze!”

Abby Griffin wrapped Clarke and Bellamy in a warm embrace as they stepped inside the house, her arms strong and comforting despite her small frame. The house smelled of pine and cinnamon, with a hint of something savory wafting from the kitchen—Abby’s signature holiday roast, no doubt.

“It’s so good to have you both here,” Abby said, squeezing Clarke’s arms gently before turning to Bellamy. “You too, Bellamy. You’re always part of the family, you know that.”

“Thanks, Abby,” Bellamy said with a smile. “It’s good to be here.”

Clarke’s gaze wandered as she stepped into the familiar warmth of the living room. Her eyes landed on the wall of family photos, a mosaic of memories framed in dark wood. There were pictures from her parents’ wedding day: her mom’s radiant smile in a simple white dress, her dad beaming in a tailored suit. Another photo showed a young Clarke on her dad’s shoulders at a park, her arms stretched out like she was flying.

And then there was her high school graduation photo. She remembered the day vividly—not for the ceremony itself, but for the empty chair where her dad should have been.

Clarke’s chest tightened as she stared at the images, the weight of her grief pressing down like it always did this time of year. Her dad had been her hero—her guiding star. His absence still felt like a wound that never fully healed.

She reached out, her fingers lightly brushing the edge of one frame. The loss hit her in waves, as it always did, pulling her back to the day everything changed. She was only 16 when her dad had been taken from her—a violent, senseless act that shattered her world.

Her father, Jake Griffin, had been an engineer for a powerful millionaire company, one that dealt with cutting-edge technology and high-stakes projects. Some former employees, angry at what they perceived as corruption within the company, had targeted him during a work trip. Clarke never knew all the details—her mom had shielded her from much of it—but what she did know was enough. It was a tragedy she wouldn’t wish on anyone.

The PTSD that followed had been debilitating. For months after his death, Clarke struggled with nightmares and panic attacks, her once-bright world dimmed by fear and sorrow. It was Octavia and Bellamy who had helped her through it, their unwavering support pulling her back from the edge.

“You okay?” Bellamy’s voice brought her back to the present. He was standing beside her now, his warm hand resting lightly on her back.

Clarke blinked, realizing she’d been staring at the photos for too long. She turned to him, offering a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Just… remembering.”

Bellamy’s gaze softened, and he leaned in closer. “You want to talk about it?”

Clarke shook her head, swallowing hard. “Not right now.”

He nodded, his hand sliding down to take hers. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Abby appeared in the doorway, holding a tray of steaming mugs. “Hot cocoa?” she offered, her voice cheerful but with an undercurrent of concern.

“Thanks, Mom,” Clarke said, taking a mug and letting the warmth seep into her hands. She knew her mom meant well, but the holidays were always a reminder of what they’d lost.

As they settled into the living room, Clarke forced herself to focus on the present. Bellamy was by her side, his presence steady and grounding, and her mom was bustling around, doing her best to make the house feel festive and full of life.

Clarke glanced at Bellamy, his dark eyes meeting hers, and for a moment, the weight in her chest lifted. She had him, and soon, she’d have someone else to love and protect—a secret she wasn’t quite ready to share but one that gave her hope for the future.

As Clarke and Bellamy settled into the living room, a familiar voice called out from the hallway.

“There’s the couple of the hour!” Marcus Kane stepped into view, his tall frame imposing yet warm, dressed in a dark sweater and jeans that gave him a casual holiday vibe.

“Kane!” Bellamy said with a grin, standing up to shake his hand. “Good to see you.”

Kane clasped Bellamy’s hand firmly, then pulled him into a brief but heartfelt hug. “You too, Bellamy. How’s life treating you? Still molding young minds as a history teacher?”

“Trying my best,” Bellamy replied, his tone light but filled with pride.

Kane turned to Clarke, his smile softening. “Clarke. Always a pleasure.” He pulled her into a hug, his fatherly warmth making her relax for the first time since arriving.

“It’s good to see you, Kane,” she said genuinely.

Kane had been in her mother’s life for nearly five years now, and though it had taken Clarke some time to adjust to the idea of her mom moving on after her dad’s death, she couldn’t deny that Kane had been good for Abby. He brought out a lighter side of her, one that Clarke hadn’t seen since she was a little girl.

“It’s nice to have everyone together for the holidays,” Kane said, his voice carrying the kind of steadiness Clarke always associated with him. “Feels like it’s been too long since we’ve had this kind of warmth in the house.”

Bellamy smirked. “You’ve done a good job making this place feel like home again.”

Kane’s smile grew, and he glanced toward Abby, who had just reappeared with another tray of cookies. The way they exchanged looks—quiet, understanding, and full of affection—made Clarke’s chest tighten with emotion. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed seeing her mom happy like this.

Clarke caught Bellamy’s gaze as he settled back onto the couch beside her, and she could tell he was thinking the same thing. Bellamy had always admired Kane, not just as Abby’s partner but as a surrogate father figure in his own life.

Growing up, Bellamy never had a stable male presence in his life. Their father had walked out when he and Octavia were young, and Bellamy had shouldered the role of protector and provider from an early age. Meeting Kane, someone steady and reliable, had been an unexpected blessing for him. Kane’s quiet guidance had come at a time when Bellamy needed it most, even if he’d never admit it out loud.

“You kids are staying for the big dinner, right?” Kane asked, pouring himself a mug of cocoa and settling into an armchair.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bellamy said. “I’ve been hyping Clarke up for your famous stuffing.”

“Oh, please,” Kane said with a chuckle. “That recipe is Abby’s. I just do the legwork.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” Abby interjected with a playful smile, setting down the tray. “He’s the one who insists on making everything from scratch.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as the two bantered. Seeing her mom this way—relaxed, laughing—was something she hadn’t realized she needed. Kane had a way of grounding Abby, balancing her sharp edges with his calm presence.

As the evening went on, Clarke found herself watching Bellamy and Kane interact. They talked about history, debating over favorite historical figures and sharing anecdotes about teaching. Kane leaned forward, engaged, offering advice that Bellamy genuinely seemed to take to heart.

Clarke couldn’t help but feel a swell of gratitude for Kane. He’d been a stabilizing force not just for her mom, but for Bellamy, too. In a way, he’d given Bellamy something he’d never had before: a father figure who truly cared about him.

As the conversation flowed and laughter filled the room, Clarke felt the weight of her earlier emotions ease. This house—once filled with memories of loss and heartache—felt alive again. And even though her dad would always have a place in her heart, she was grateful for Kane’s presence in their lives.

For the first time in a long while, Clarke felt like her family was whole again. And as she leaned against Bellamy’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around her, she allowed herself to imagine the future they were building—one that would soon grow even larger.

–

Clarke’s childhood bedroom was a time capsule, frozen in an era when Clarke Griffin was still a teenager dreaming of bigger things. The posters of her favorite artists stared down from the walls, some edges curling with age. Her best artwork was proudly displayed on a makeshift gallery wall, and her old desk was still cluttered with paints, pens, and colored pencils, as though she might sit down at any moment to create something new. The bi flag hung proudly near her bed—a symbol of her courage when she came out at 17, a reminder of the girl she’d been and the woman she’d become.

Clarke sat cross-legged under the covers, her fingers trailing idly over the hem of the blanket as she listened to the faint sounds of Bellamy in the bathroom. The tap turned off, and moments later, the door creaked open. Bellamy appeared, a toothbrush in hand, his T-shirt slightly wrinkled from being hastily thrown on. He looked around the room with a curious grin, the toothbrush still in his mouth.

“This room is very you,” he teased around the toothpaste, his words slightly garbled.

Clarke smirked, leaning back against the headboard. “You mean it was me. I haven’t lived here in ten years.”

Bellamy shrugged, rinsing his mouth at the sink tucked in the corner of the room. “I don’t know. Feels like you haven’t changed that much.” He pointed to the bi flag. “Still proud, still a little rebellious, and still incredibly talented.” He gestured to her artwork. “I mean, look at this stuff. Who painted that at 16?”

Clarke laughed softly. “Okay, fine, maybe I left a few pieces of myself here.”

Bellamy crossed the room, tossing his toothbrush onto the desk without a care and sliding into bed beside her. “Few pieces?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I think this room screams Clarke Griffin. Artistic, bold, and just a little bit messy.”

She swatted his arm, grinning. “Careful, or I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said, pulling her into his arms with ease. “I’m your heater tonight, remember?”

Clarke nestled against him, feeling the steady warmth of his body as he pulled the blankets up over them. She rested her head on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. It was moments like these, quiet and unspoken, that reminded her why she loved him so deeply.

“Tomorrow’s going to be fun,” Bellamy said, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Seeing everyone again… even if it means bracing for Octavia’s antics.”

Clarke chuckled. “She’s going to have a field day interrogating Lincoln in front of everyone.”

“Poor guy,” Bellamy murmured with a smile. “But he’s a good sport. He can handle her.”

Clarke tilted her head to look up at him. “And what about you? Are you ready for Octavia to tell everyone every embarrassing thing you did in high school?”

Bellamy groaned. “She’s probably got a list.”

“Definitely,” Clarke teased, poking his side. “And I’ll love every second of it.”

He sighed dramatically but smiled down at her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “At least I have you to back me up.”

“Maybe,” Clarke said, her voice playful. “Depends on how good the stories are.”

They both laughed, their voices mingling with the soft creak of the old house settling in the cold. Clarke felt the familiar tug of nostalgia, tempered by the warmth of the present. This was her life now—messy, beautiful, and shared with someone who loved her for every piece of who she was.

Bellamy’s gaze lingered on Clarke, his dark brown eyes soft but intense. He didn’t say anything at first, just studied her face like it was a masterpiece he couldn’t look away from. His hand rested lightly on her hip, his thumb tracing slow circles through the fabric of her sweatshirt.

“What?” Clarke asked, her voice soft but curious, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, like he wanted her to feel every ounce of love and desire he carried for her. Clarke froze for a moment, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into him, her hand sliding up to tangle in his hair.

The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling as the world outside seemed to fade away. The tension that had been knotting in Clarke’s chest all day began to unravel, her worries dissolving with every brush of his lips. Bellamy’s hands framed her face, his touch grounding and tender, like she was the only thing that mattered in the universe.

Clarke pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against his. “What was that for?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Bellamy’s lips curved into a small smile. “I just… I couldn’t help it,” he admitted. “You’re lying here, looking at me like that, and I don’t know. I’m just… really lucky to have you.”

Clarke’s heart swelled, her fingers still playing with the strands of his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself, Bellamy Blake.”

He chuckled softly, leaning down to kiss her again, this time lighter but no less meaningful. Clarke let herself get lost in the moment, her earlier fears about the future slipping further and further from her mind. Right now, all that mattered was him—the way he held her, the way he made her feel safe and cherished.

When they finally broke apart, Bellamy pulled her closer, tucking her into his chest. His voice was a quiet rumble against her ear as he said, “Whatever’s been on your mind today, you don’t have to carry it alone, Clarke. I’m here. Always.”

She closed her eyes, her lips brushing his collarbone. She wanted to tell him everything—about the pregnancy, about the fear and excitement swirling inside her—but the words wouldn’t come. Not yet. For now, she let herself bask in the comfort of his embrace, her heart full and her mind, for the first time all day, at ease.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady. “I know you are.”

And in his arms, as the snow continued to fall softly outside, Clarke felt, for the first time in a long while, that everything was going to be okay.

–

The café door jingled as Clarke and Bellamy stepped in, the cold morning air following them for a moment before the door swung shut. The place was cozy, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the chatter of locals enjoying their morning. Clarke scanned the room until she spotted Octavia waving from a long table near the window, Lincoln seated beside her.

“There they are!” Octavia called out, her voice bright and full of excitement.

As Clarke and Bellamy made their way over, the rest of their friends began to trickle in. Monty and Jasper arrived next, laughing about something that had happened on the drive over. Murphy and Emori followed, Murphy complaining about the cold while Emori smirked, clearly amused by his dramatics.

Then, the door opened again, and Raven walked in. The moment her eyes landed on Clarke, a wide grin spread across her face. She didn’t waste a second, crossing the café and wrapping Clarke in a tight hug.

“Clarke!” Raven said, her voice filled with warmth. “It’s been forever!”

Clarke hugged her back just as tightly, a smile spreading across her face. “Raven! I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Raven said, pulling back but keeping her hands on Clarke’s shoulders. She looked her up and down. “You look amazing. Baltimore must agree with you.”

Clarke laughed. “You’re one to talk. You’re glowing.”

Raven smirked. “What can I say? Brunch is my happy place.”

The two shared a laugh before sitting down at the table, joining the rest of the group. Monty was already pouring coffee, and Jasper was stacking pancakes onto his plate with exaggerated precision.

“Where’ve you been hiding, Reyes?” Octavia asked, leaning across the table to steal a piece of bacon from Lincoln’s plate.

“Busy,” Raven said with a shrug. “You know how it is. Work, life… all that fun stuff.”

Clarke listened to her friend's banter, feeling a warmth settle over her. It had been months since she’d seen most of them, and being surrounded by their familiar voices and laughter felt like coming home.

“Clarke!” Octavia called, her energy lighting up the room.

Clarke waved back, but before she could make it to the table, a familiar voice called out.

“Griffin!”

Clarke turned just in time to see Raven Reyes striding toward her, arms outstretched. Raven pulled her into a tight hug, the kind that knocked the breath out of Clarke but made her smile all the same.

“Raven!” Clarke laughed, squeezing her back. “It’s been way too long.”

“Months,” Raven said, pulling back and giving her a once-over. “You look good, though. Baltimore must be treating you right.”

Clarke smiled. “I can’t complain. How about you? Still putting us all to shame with your engineering genius?”

Raven grinned but shrugged. “I will try. But enough about me—we’ve got catching up to do.”

Raven’s presence always brought a sense of comfort and camaraderie to Clarke. They hadn’t known each other growing up, but once they’d met at Arkadia University, it had been an instant connection. It wasn’t until they were roommates their sophomore year that they discovered the strange coincidence: their mothers had known each other.

Abby had told Clarke stories about working alongside Raven’s mom, a talented but troubled nurse who struggled with alcoholism. Clarke remembered being surprised at how much Raven had endured—how her mother would forget to pick her up from school or pass out on the couch, hungover. When Raven’s mother died of alcohol poisoning during their second year of college, Clarke had stayed up all night with her, holding her while she cried. Abby had been there for Raven too, stepping into the motherly role she’d always filled during Raven’s childhood.

“I missed you,” Clarke said sincerely, looking at Raven.

Raven smirked, her eyes softening. “Missed you too. And don’t think you’re off the hook for going so long without a call. We need to fix that.”

“Deal,” Clarke said with a grin.

As they made their way to the table, the rest of the group greeted them with warmth. Monty waved enthusiastically, Jasper shot finger guns in their direction, and Miller nodded with a smile while Murphy and Emori shared some private joke that had them both smirking.

“About time,” Octavia teased as Clarke and Bellamy sat down. “I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.”

“Blame the weather,” Bellamy said, shaking snow off his jacket. “Roads are a mess.”

“Excuses,” Octavia shot back, leaning playfully into Lincoln, who chuckled.

At one point, Raven leaned closer to Clarke, her voice low so only Clarke could hear. “So, how are you really doing? You’ve got that look like you’re holding something back.”

Clarke hesitated, her fingers tightening around her coffee mug. She trusted Raven more than almost anyone, but the thought of sharing her pregnancy news here, in the middle of brunch, felt overwhelming.

Clarke hesitated, her hand gripping her coffee mug. She glanced at Bellamy, who was deep in conversation with Lincoln, and then back at Raven. “Nothing much,” she said lightly. “Just the usual.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced, but she let it slide. “Alright,” she said, smirking. “But you’d better spill it later.”

As they waited for their food to arrive, Octavia leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Okay, since we’re all here and feeling nostalgic, I’ve got a story that Clarke probably doesn’t want me to tell.”

Clarke groaned, already knowing where this was going. “Octavia, no. Don’t.”

Octavia ignored her, grinning as she launched into the tale. “So, picture this: it’s my first semester of college. I’m taking night classes because, you know, working full-time during the day to make ends meet was super fun.”

“You were still the life of the party,” Raven interjected with a smirk.

“Thank you, Reyes,” Octavia said, shooting her a playful finger gun before continuing. “Anyway, decided to go to this house party off-campus. It’s supposed to be the party of the semester. Raven, of course, is all in because she can’t resist a good party.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Raven quipped, sipping her coffee.

“It’s not,” Octavia said. “It’s part of your charm. So, we all head to this party, right? The music is blasting, people are everywhere, and Clarke—little Miss Responsible—is trying to play mom and keep us all in line.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Clarke said defensively.

“You were,” Octavia said, laughing. “Anyway, about halfway through the night, Clarke decides she’s done and wants to leave. But instead of waiting for me and Raven, she takes someone’s scooter parked outside and tries to ride it back to campus.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Clarke buried her face in her hands.

“Wait, wait,” Bellamy said, grinning. “You stole a scooter?”

“I didn’t steal it!” Clarke said, her voice muffled through her hands. “It was one of those rental scooters, and I paid for it.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know how to ride it,” Octavia said, still laughing. “So there’s Clarke, wobbling down the street on this thing, and Raven and I are running after her, yelling for her to stop because she’s about to crash into a trash can.”

Raven jumped in, grinning. “Which she did. Full speed, head-on into the trash can. It was glorious.”

“I had a bruise on my leg for weeks,” Clarke muttered, her cheeks flushed.

“You were fine,” Octavia said, waving her off. “And to be fair, that was the night you finally loosened up and stopped trying to babysit us.”

“That’s because I realized I needed someone to babysit me,” Clarke shot back, making everyone laugh again.

Octavia leaned forward, her smile softening. “But honestly, that was one of the best nights. It was the first time I really felt like I belonged, like I wasn’t just the girl who didn’t go to college right away. You two,” she said, gesturing to Clarke and Raven, “you made me feel like I was part of something. Like I wasn’t just Bellamy’s kid sister trying to figure it all out.”

Clarke reached over and squeezed Octavia’s hand. “You were never just Bellamy’s sister, O. You’ve always been one of us.”

Raven nodded. “And you always will be. Even if you’re the one telling embarrassing stories.”

The table fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the warmth of their friendship filling the space. Then Jasper broke it by holding up his coffee cup.

“To Clarke, for taking on a trash can with the bravery of a warrior,” he said, grinning.

Everyone laughed, raising their glasses in a mock toast, and Clarke couldn’t help but join in, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. 

The front door of the café jingled again, drawing the group’s attention as Harper walked in, bundled in a cozy scarf and pushing a stroller. She gave an apologetic wave, her cheeks pink from the cold.

“Sorry we’re late! Getting out of the house with this little guy is a whole mission,” she said with a laugh, motioning to the baby in the stroller.

“Harper!” Clarke called out, standing to greet her with a hug. Harper leaned into it warmly, then began making the rounds, hugging everyone at the table.

As she stepped back, Raven glanced at the stroller. “Let me see this little heartbreaker.”

Harper grinned as she pulled back the blanket, revealing Jordan’s round, chubby face. He blinked sleepily at the group, his tiny fists waving in the air as if to say hello.

“He’s adorable,” Clarke said, leaning down to gently tickle his hand. Jordan responded with a tiny coo, and Clarke’s heart melted.

The waitress arrived with a booster seat, and Monty quickly stood to help Harper settle Jordan in, their teamwork seamless.

“Look at you two, all grown up and responsible,” Jasper teased, smirking as he sipped his coffee. “I still can’t believe you’re parents.”

“Neither can we,” Monty admitted with a chuckle, sitting down beside Harper. “But here we are.”

“I was just telling them stories from college,” Octavia said with a mischievous grin. “Maybe you can add to the collection.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty,” Harper said, raising an eyebrow at Monty.

Monty groaned, already anticipating where this was going. “Here we go.”

“Did Clarke tell you how I met Monty?” Harper asked the table, her tone playful.

“No, but now I’m curious,” Murphy said, leaning back with a smirk.

“Well,” Harper began, her eyes sparkling, “we met freshman year in one of those awful introductory classes—‘Foundations of Society’ or something equally boring. I sat next to Monty because he looked like he knew what he was doing. Turns out, he didn’t.”

“Hey!” Monty interjected, laughing.

Harper ignored him, grinning as she continued. “But the funny part is, I had this massive crush on his best friend, Jasper, at first.”

Jasper nearly spit out his coffee, his eyes wide. “Wait, what?!”

“You didn’t know?” Harper asked, feigning innocence. “I thought I made it obvious. You were too busy chasing every girl in the dorms to notice, though.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Jasper shook his head in disbelief. “I had no idea. Wow, Monty, you really swooped in there.”

“More like Harper realized I was the better option,” Monty said with a smug grin, earning a playful shove from Harper.

“It didn’t take long for me to figure it out,” Harper admitted, smiling fondly at Monty. “Jasper was fun, but Monty… Monty was the one who stayed up late helping me study, who made me laugh even when I was stressed, and who always, always had my back.”

Monty blushed under her gaze, but his smile was radiant. “And Harper was the one who kept me sane through all the craziness. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“Aww,” Raven said, pretending to wipe a tear. “You guys are disgustingly adorable.”

“Seriously,” Murphy added. “Tone it down. Some of us are trying to enjoy our coffee.”

Harper laughed, leaning over to kiss Monty on the cheek. “Sorry, not sorry.”

As the conversation continued, Clarke couldn’t help but watch Harper and Monty with a mixture of joy and wistfulness. Seeing them with Jordan reminded her of the secret she was still carrying. She reached for Bellamy’s hand under the table, intertwining her fingers with his.

He glanced at her, raising an eyebrow in question. Clarke just smiled, squeezing his hand. She wasn’t ready to share her news yet, but watching Harper and Monty made her feel a little less scared about what was to come. If they could do it, so could she.

The table was filled with the clatter of plates and the murmur of happy conversation as the waitress placed everyone’s meals in front of them. Raven dug into her scrambled eggs and bacon without hesitation, while Bellamy offered Clarke a small smile as he cut into his omelet.

Clarke stared at her waffle, its golden surface glistening with syrup and topped with a dollop of whipped cream. Normally, it would have been her dream breakfast, but the smell of the syrup mixed with the rich aroma of eggs and coffee suddenly hit her like a freight train. Her stomach churned violently, a wave of nausea crashing over her.

“I—excuse me,” Clarke said quickly, pushing back her chair as she bolted from the table.

She could feel everyone’s eyes on her as she hurried toward the bathroom, but she didn’t stop to explain. The moment she reached the stall, she kicked it open and fell to her knees, her stomach heaving as she vomited. The sour taste and burning sensation were awful, but nothing compared to the mix of emotions swirling inside her: panic, embarrassment, and the unmistakable reality of what was happening. Morning sickness wasn’t pulling any punches today.

She leaned against the stall wall, trying to catch her breath when the door to the bathroom creaked open. Footsteps echoed on the tile floor, and then a familiar voice rang out.

“Clarke? Are you okay? What the hell’s going on?”

Clarke groaned inwardly. Of course, Raven would follow her. She was nothing if not persistent.

“I’m fine,” Clarke said quickly, standing up and brushing herself off as if that would erase what had just happened. She flushed the toilet and stepped out of the stall, avoiding Raven’s eyes as she headed for the sink.

“You don’t look fine,” Raven said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. “You’ve been acting weird all morning, and now you’re running off to puke? What’s going on?”

Clarke splashed cold water on her face, her hands shaking slightly. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her pale face and wide eyes betraying her attempt to play it cool.

“Nothing,” she said, forcing a weak smile. “It’s probably just something I ate.”

Raven raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Clarke. Come on. You don’t get sick from food like that. What’s really going on?”

Clarke hesitated, her heart racing. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, the secret she’d been holding in since the test flashed two pink lines. But saying it out loud—to Raven, of all people—felt too big, too real.

Before Clarke could respond to Raven’s gentle encouragement, the bathroom door swung open again. Harper stepped inside, her brow furrowed with concern as her eyes darted between Clarke and Raven.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Harper asked, her tone light but tinged with worry. “You’re not exactly the type to run out of brunch mid-waffle, Clarke. And…” She paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Now that I think about it, you didn’t order coffee. You, of all people, didn’t order coffee. That’s weird.”

Clarke froze, her stomach twisting again—but not from nausea this time. She avoided Harper’s gaze, fiddling with the edge of the sink as if that might make her invisible.

Harper crossed her arms, her expression shifting into one of realization as her eyes widened. “Wait a second,” she said slowly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Clarke. Are you…?”

Clarke’s silence spoke louder than words, and Harper’s jaw dropped.

“Oh my god,” Harper whispered, her hand flying to her mouth. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

Raven’s head snapped toward Clarke, her brows shooting up. “Wait, what?”

Clarke’s face turned bright red as she waved her hands defensively. “I—okay, yes! Yes, I’m pregnant. But could you both keep it down? The entire café doesn’t need to know!”

Harper’s surprise melted into a wide, knowing grin as she stepped forward to hug Clarke. “Oh, Clarke! That’s amazing news!” she said, her voice softer this time but still filled with excitement.

Raven blinked, her expression a mix of shock and amusement. “Well, that explains the whole waffle-and-bathroom thing.”

Clarke sighed, leaning against the sink and running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, morning sickness is no joke. And I didn’t order coffee because, apparently, I can’t stand the smell of it anymore.”

Harper chuckled, crossing her arms. “Oh, I remember that phase all too well. I thought I’d die without my morning coffee when I was pregnant with Jordan.”

“Wait,” Raven said, holding up a hand. “How did you figure it out so fast?”

Harper smirked. “It’s a mom thing. The second Clarke ran off like that, I had a hunch. The no-coffee thing just confirmed it.”

Clarke groaned, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “Well, I guess my secret’s out now.”

Raven stepped closer, her teasing smirk softening into something warmer. “Why didn’t you tell us? You know we’d be excited for you.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around it,” Clarke admitted, her voice quieter. “I haven’t even told Bellamy yet. I just… needed time to process.”

Harper reached out, squeezing Clarke’s hand. “Take all the time you need. But, Clarke, you’re going to be amazing at this. And Bellamy—he’s going to be over the moon.”

Raven nodded, her grin returning. “Yeah, and you’ve got all of us. You’re not doing this alone, Griff.”

Clarke felt a wave of relief wash over her, the weight of her secret feeling a little lighter now that she’d shared it with two of her closest friends. She smiled at them, her eyes misting slightly. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot.”

Harper gave her a warm smile before glancing toward the door. “Now, the question is… do we head back out there and let Octavia and Murphy start guessing, or are you telling Bellamy first?”

Clarke laughed, shaking her head. “I think I need to tell Bellamy first. But I’m pretty sure Octavia’s already plotting something dramatic.”

The three of them shared a laugh, and for the first time since the morning started, Clarke felt a sense of calm. Whatever came next, she knew she had the support of the people who mattered most.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow through the windows as Clarke stood in front of the mirror in her childhood bedroom, smoothing out the fabric of her red dress. It was simple yet elegant, fitting her perfectly and bringing a subtle flush to her cheeks. She leaned closer to the mirror, carefully applying her red lipstick, the vibrant color tying her look together.

Behind her, Bellamy leaned against the doorframe, his dark suit contrasting sharply with the cozy chaos of Clarke’s teenage room. His gaze lingered on her reflection, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and admiration.

Clarke turned to face him, her cheeks flushing further under his gaze. “You’re biased,” she said, though the smile on her lips betrayed how much his words meant to her.

“Maybe,” he admitted, stepping closer until he was standing directly in front of her. “But I’m also right.”

Clarke chuckled, shaking her head as she adjusted his tie. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Blake. Almost too well. I might have to keep an eye on you tonight.”

He smirked, his hands gently resting on her waist. “I could say the same about you. That dress is going to turn heads.”

They stood there for a moment, the playful banter fading into something softer as Clarke rested her hands on his chest. For all the chaos and loss the holidays often reminded her of, moments like this—standing with Bellamy, grounded and loved—made it all feel manageable.

“Are you ready for tonight?” he asked, his tone quieter now.

Clarke took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah. It’s always emotional, but Jaha… he’s family. I wouldn’t miss it.”

Jaha had been a constant in her life, a steady presence through the hardest moments. He and her father had been best friends, bonded not just by their work at the company but by a deep mutual respect. After her dad’s murder, Jaha had stepped in to support Clarke and her mom, becoming a surrogate father figure in ways neither of them had expected.

And then there was Wells.

Clarke’s chest tightened at the thought of him—her childhood best friend, the boy who had been her partner in every adventure growing up. They’d been inseparable, sharing secrets, dreams, and every milestone. Losing him their senior year of high school had been devastating. The car accident that took his life had left a hole in Clarke’s heart that had never fully healed.

But Jaha had remained steadfast, inviting them to his annual Christmas Eve party every year, making sure Clarke and her mom always felt included, always felt loved. This year, Bellamy, Octavia, and Lincoln had been invited too—a testament to how Jaha embraced the people Clarke cared about as part of his extended family.

“Wells would’ve loved you,” Clarke said suddenly, her voice soft as she looked up at Bellamy.

Bellamy’s expression softened, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly. “You remind me of him, in a way. Loyal, protective, always looking out for the people you love.”

Bellamy leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I would’ve been honored to meet him.”

Clarke smiled, her heart aching but full. “He would’ve teased you relentlessly about my taste in guys, though.”

Bellamy chuckled. “Sounds like he had good instincts.”

She laughed, swatting his arm lightly before pulling back to grab her clutch. “Alright, enough sentimentality. Let’s get going before Octavia texts us a hundred times asking why we’re late.”

“Fair,” Bellamy said, offering her his arm. 

Jaha’s house stood like a jewel against the snowy backdrop, its grand facade illuminated by warm string lights draped elegantly along the eaves. A towering Christmas tree could be seen glowing through the expansive front window, adorned with ornaments that sparkled like stars. The walkway was lined with lanterns, their soft flicker guiding guests to the door.

Clarke and Bellamy stepped out of the car, their breath visible in the cold night air. Bellamy held out a hand to help Clarke navigate the icy path, his fingers warm against hers despite the chill.

As they reached the door, Clarke couldn’t help but take in the scene. Jaha had always been well-off, a fact she never paid much attention to as a child when she and Wells would race through the house, their laughter echoing in the halls. But now, as an adult, she couldn’t ignore how lavishly decorated the home was—yet it still managed to feel welcoming, not ostentatious.

Bellamy held the door for her as they stepped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping them immediately. Jaha’s holiday parties were legendary, and it was clear this year would be no different. The smell of pine and cinnamon filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the sound of Christmas music playing from a speaker somewhere in the living room.

“Let me take those,” Bellamy said, gently sliding Clarke’s coat from her shoulders before hanging it with his on the nearby rack.

Before Clarke could take another step, a familiar figure appeared, his wide smile as warm as the house itself.

“Clarke!” Jaha said, his arms open wide as he approached.

Clarke felt a surge of emotion as she stepped into his embrace. His hug was strong and comforting, the kind of hug she imagined her own father would give if he were still here.

“Jaha,” she said softly, pulling back to look at him. “It’s so good to see you.”

“And you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her as if to check that she was truly okay. “You look beautiful. Radiant, even.”

Clarke smiled, a twinge of nervousness passing through her at his choice of words. Was it that obvious?

“Thank you,” she said, her voice steady.

Jaha turned to Bellamy, his smile widening. “It’s so good to see you Bellamy.”

Bellamy stepped forward, extending his hand. “You too.”

As Jaha stepped aside to greet the next set of guests, Clarke took a moment to glance around. The room was filled with familiar faces from her childhood—neighbors, family friends, people who had been constants in her life during the good times and the bad. She spotted her mom across the room, chatting animatedly with a group of guests, and even Octavia and Lincoln, who were already mingling as if they’d been part of the tradition for years.

Bellamy leaned down, his voice low and warm. “You okay?”

Clarke nodded, her gaze sweeping over the room. “Yeah. It’s just… a lot of memories.”

He slid an arm around her waist, his touch grounding. “You’re surrounded by people who love you. That’s what tonight’s about, right?”

Clarke smiled up at him, the knot in her chest loosening slightly. “Right.”

As they moved further into the house, Clarke couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. Jaha had always gone above and beyond to make her and her mom feel like family, and now, with Bellamy and her friends here, it felt like the family was growing even more.

As Clarke and Bellamy made their way further into the grand living room, Octavia emerged from the crowd, her emerald green dress shimmering under the warm light. Her dark hair, usually worn straight, was curled and cascaded elegantly over her shoulders. She looked stunning, as always, her presence commanding attention effortlessly.

“Clarke!” Octavia exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. “You look amazing. That red dress is perfection!”

Clarke smiled, returning the hug. “You look incredible too. That dress is stunning.”

Octavia pulled back, spinning slightly to show off the dress with a playful grin. “I know, right? Lincoln picked it out. He’s got surprisingly good taste.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked at Lincoln, who was engaged in conversation with Jaha.

Just then, a waitress appeared, carrying a tray of champagne flutes in festive Christmas glasses. The golden liquid sparkled under the soft lights, and Octavia eagerly reached out to grab one.

“Champagne?” the waitress offered, turning to Clarke.

Clarke shook her head with a polite smile. “No thank you.”

Octavia froze mid-sip, raising an eyebrow at Clarke. “Wait, what? You’re turning down champagne? You never turn down champagne.”

Clarke opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Octavia dramatically snatched a second glass from the tray. “Fine, more for me,” she said, grinning as she raised both glasses in mock celebration.

Bellamy, who had been watching from nearby, chuckled and shook his head. “O, you’ve been here all of five minutes, and you’re already double-fisting champagne? Is this your new Christmas tradition?”

Octavia smirked, taking a sip from one glass, then the other. “I’m just embracing the holiday spirit, Bell.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy said dryly, crossing his arms. “By drinking enough for three people. Maybe pace yourself? We don’t need another ‘singing on the piano’ incident like last year.”

Octavia gasped, feigning offense. “First of all, that was a classic performance. Everyone loved it. Secondly, I can handle myself, thank you very much.”

Clarke laughed, watching the siblings bicker with an affection that was uniquely theirs. Octavia always had a flair for the dramatic, and Bellamy, ever the older brother, could never resist calling her out.

“Don’t worry,” Octavia said, turning back to Clarke. “I’ll make sure Bellamy doesn’t ruin anyone else’s fun tonight.”

“Thanks, O,” Clarke said with a grin.

As Octavia downed the rest of her champagne and twirled back into the crowd, Bellamy slid closer to Clarke, his hand brushing against hers. “She’s a menace,” he said fondly, watching his sister.

“She’s the life of the party,” Clarke countered, smiling. “It wouldn’t be the same without her.”

Bellamy chuckled, leaning down to murmur, “You handled that no-champagne thing well. Think she’ll figure it out?”

Clarke glanced toward Octavia, who was now enthusiastically chatting with a group of guests, completely oblivious. “Not a chance,” she whispered back, laughing softly.

The party was in full swing, the house alive with chatter, laughter, and the soft strains of holiday music playing in the background. Clarke was standing near the fireplace, holding a glass of wine in her hand—not to drink, but as a way to blend in. She figured no one would question her choice if she simply carried it around.

“Clarke!” Raven’s voice called out as she approached, flanked by Jasper, Murphy, and Emori.

Clarke turned with a smile, her heart lifting at the sight of her friends. “Raven! Took you long enough.”

Raven rolled her eyes playfully. “Blame Jasper. He insisted we stop for snacks on the way because he doesn’t trust party food.”

“Hey, I like to be prepared,” Jasper said, grinning as he held up a small bag of pretzels like it was a trophy.

Murphy smirked, his arm casually slung around Emori’s shoulders. “And by snacks, he means he needs emergency hangover supplies. Apparently, last night’s adventure isn’t fully out of his system.”

Jasper held up a finger, feigning seriousness. “It’s called preparation. Something you all clearly lack.”

Emori laughed, shaking her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Raven stepped closer to Clarke, her sharp eyes quickly scanning her face. “You feeling better?” she asked softly, just loud enough for Clarke to hear.

Clarke nodded, offering a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for earlier.”

Raven nodded, her lips twitching into a small smile. She didn’t push, and Clarke was grateful for it.

“So,” Jasper said, breaking the moment. “What’s the deal with this party? Fancy house, fancy people… and us.”

“It’s a tradition,” Clarke explained, glancing toward Jaha, who was laughing with a group of guests near the dining table. “Jaha’s basically family. He and my dad were best friends, and he’s always made sure we’re included—even after everything.”

Jasper nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his champagne. “That’s cool. And this place? Definitely goals.”

“Goals?” Murphy said with a laugh. “You mean way out of your league.”

“Hey,” Jasper protested. “Let a guy dream.”

As the group laughed, Raven nudged Clarke’s arm. “Wine, huh? Thought you weren’t feeling up to it earlier.”

Clarke held up the glass, shrugging. “It’s just for show.”

Raven’s lips quivered into a knowing smile, but she didn’t say anything, instead turning her attention to Murphy and Emori as they began recounting a story about one of their more chaotic road trips.

The festive buzz of the party continued as Jaha approached Clarke with a beautifully wrapped box, his warm smile making her feel instantly at ease.

“Merry Christmas, Clarke,” Jaha said, holding out the gift.

Clarke smiled as she accepted it, the weight of the box making her curious. “Thank you, Jaha. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did,” he said. “You’re family. Open it.”

Clarke carefully unwrapped the box, peeling back the festive paper to reveal a sleek, wooden wine box with several small bottles nestled inside. Each was labeled with intricate designs, showcasing a selection of rare and vintage wines.

“Oh wow,” Clarke said, her voice filled with genuine appreciation. “This is amazing. Thank you so much.”

Jaha’s grin widened. “I thought you’d like it. And since it’s Christmas, we should open one up and toast with your friends. What do you think?”

Clarke froze for a moment, her stomach tightening. She couldn’t drink, but she didn’t want to make it obvious why. She hesitated, trying to come up with an excuse, but Jaha had already started gesturing toward a nearby table where glasses were set out.

“Come on,” Jaha said, his enthusiasm contagious. “Pick one, and let’s celebrate.”

Before Clarke could respond, Raven appeared beside her, her sharp eyes immediately assessing the situation. She quickly caught on to Clarke’s unease, her protective instincts kicking in.

“Oh no, no, no,” Raven said loudly, stepping in with a dramatic flair. “Clarke’s definitely had enough wine tonight.”

Clarke blinked, her head snapping toward Raven in surprise.

Jaha raised an eyebrow, looking slightly confused. “Has she? I didn’t see her drink much.”

Raven waved her hand dismissively, looping an arm around Clarke’s shoulders. “Oh, trust me. She’s a lightweight. Two glasses and she’s done for the night. I’m just looking out for her. Gotta make sure she doesn’t start singing Christmas carols off-key.”

Clarke stifled a laugh, grateful for Raven’s quick thinking, even if the excuse was ridiculous.

Jaha chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, fair enough. I’ll hold onto this for later then.”

As Jaha walked away to mingle with other guests, Bellamy approached, his brow furrowed slightly as he looked between Clarke and Raven.

“Wait, I thought you said you weren’t drinking tonight,” he said, his confusion evident. “When did you have wine?”

Raven jumped in before Clarke could answer, her tone casual. “Oh, she had a couple earlier. You must’ve missed it while you were talking to Lincoln.”

Bellamy tilted his head, clearly skeptical, but he didn’t push further. “Alright…” he said slowly, still looking at Clarke for confirmation.

Clarke gave him a small, apologetic smile, leaning into the story Raven had crafted. “Yeah, just a couple. Nothing crazy.”

Bellamy studied her for a moment longer before shrugging. “Alright. Just don’t let Octavia convince you to have another. We don’t need two of her running around tonight.”

Clarke laughed softly, nodding. “Deal.”

As Bellamy wandered back to the group, Raven turned to Clarke, her expression softening. “You owe me,” she said quietly, though her tone was teasing.

Clarke let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“Anytime,” Raven said with a wink. “But you’re going to have to tell him soon. He’s starting to notice things.”

“I know,” Clarke said softly, glancing at Bellamy across the room. “I will. Just… not tonight.”

Raven nodded, giving her a reassuring squeeze on the arm before heading back to join the others. Clarke exhaled again, her nerves slowly settling as she returned to the party. For now, the secret was safe, and she was grateful to have a friend like Raven watching her back.

–

The next morning, the world outside was blanketed in fresh snow, the soft flakes drifting down like a serene postcard scene. Inside, the house was cozy and warm, the fireplace crackling as Clarke, Bellamy, Kane, and Abby gathered around the Christmas tree for their gift exchange. The soft rustle of wrapping paper and the occasional exclamation of delight filled the room.

Clarke smiled as Bellamy handed her a small, thoughtfully wrapped box. Inside, she found a beautiful necklace with a simple, elegant pendant.

“It’s beautiful,” Clarke said softly, leaning over to kiss him.

“You deserve beautiful things,” Bellamy replied with a smile, his hand brushing hers briefly.

As the gifts were exchanged, the morning was filled with warmth and laughter. Not too long after, the front door opened, and Octavia and Lincoln arrived, shaking snow off their coats.

“Merry Christmas!” Octavia called as she breezed into the living room, her arms full of presents. Lincoln followed with a quieter “Merry Christmas” and a smile.

After hugs and a fresh round of gift exchanges, everyone settled back into the cozy atmosphere. Clarke’s mom, Abby, suddenly stood up, her eyes lighting up as she clapped her hands.

“Oh! I almost forgot,” Abby said. “Clarke, there’s one more gift for you.”

Clarke looked up, surprised. “Another one? Mom, you didn’t have to.”

Abby disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a small, beautifully wrapped package. “This one’s special,” she said, handing it to Clarke with a proud smile.

Clarke tore open the paper to reveal a sleek bottle of champagne in an ornate holiday box. Her heart sank, though she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

“Thanks, Mom,” Clarke said, trying to sound genuine.

Abby beamed. “I thought it would be perfect for tonight. We can open it at Christmas dinner, do a little toast.”

Clarke felt a flicker of frustration. She’d already received wine yesterday from Jaha, and now this. She appreciated the thought, but it stung knowing she couldn’t drink it and wasn’t ready to explain why.

“Uh, yeah, sounds great,” Clarke said, setting the bottle down carefully beside her.

Bellamy, sitting beside her, caught the slight change in her expression. “You okay?” he asked under his breath, his brow furrowing in concern.

Clarke forced a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Octavia, who had been unwrapping a scarf from Lincoln, glanced at the champagne and grinned. “Looks like we’re all getting a little festive tonight.”

“Apparently,” Clarke said, laughing softly, though her heart wasn’t in it.

Raven, seated nearby, exchanged a glance with Clarke, her eyes narrowing slightly in understanding. She didn’t say anything, but the silent exchange was enough to reassure Clarke that at least someone else knew what she was going through.

As the conversation shifted back to the remaining gifts, Clarke resolved to handle the champagne situation later. For now, she focused on the laughter and love filling the room, though a part of her knew it was getting harder to keep her secret.

Tonight, at Christmas dinner, she’d have to think fast—or, maybe, it was finally time to let the truth out.

The smell of sizzling bacon and fresh pancakes filled the kitchen as Kane worked his magic over the stove. Plates were already piled high with fluffy pancakes, and crispy bacon, creating a feast worthy of the holiday morning.

At the table, Clarke sat quietly, her fork idly poking at her untouched stack of pancakes. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts a million miles away, even as laughter and light conversation swirled around her.

Bellamy, sitting beside her, noticed the unusual stillness. He reached over, resting a warm hand on her knee. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise of the room. “You okay? You’ve barely touched your food.”

Clarke blinked, snapping out of her thoughts. She glanced at him, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine. Just not that hungry right now. I might eat later.”

Bellamy studied her for a moment, his brow furrowing in concern. “You sure? You’ve been kind of… off these past couple of days.”

Clarke’s chest tightened. She wanted to tell him—more than anything—but the words felt too heavy to push past her lips at this moment, surrounded by their family and friends. Instead, she nodded, her smile still in place. “Yeah, I’m fine. Promise.”

Bellamy didn’t look entirely convinced, but he didn’t press further. He gave her knee a gentle squeeze before turning back to his own plate.

Across the table, Octavia was recounting a story from the party the night before, her laughter infectious as she gestured animatedly. Lincoln chuckled beside her, his calm presence grounding her usual energy. Abby, meanwhile, leaned over to pour more coffee into Kane’s mug as he sat down to finally join them.

“You outdid yourself, Kane,” Abby said warmly, taking a bite of her pancakes.

“Yeah,” Octavia chimed in. “These are amazing. Can we just hire you as our personal chef?”

Kane laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Clarke smiled faintly at the lighthearted banter, but her appetite was nonexistent. The nausea had been coming and going all morning, leaving her stomach uneasy. She sipped her water instead, hoping no one else would notice her lack of enthusiasm for the meal.

As the conversation continued around her, Clarke resolved to find a quiet moment later in the day to tell Bellamy the truth. She couldn’t keep brushing off his concern—not when he deserved to know what was really going on. But for now, she simply sat, letting the comforting noise of her family and friends surround her, even as her thoughts churned beneath the surface.

Clarke stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her reflection staring back at her with an intensity that matched the nervousness twisting in her stomach. She adjusted her green sweater, the soft knit hugging her just right, and smoothed out her jeans before picking up the curling iron to add the last touch to her hair. Despite her best efforts to appear calm and put together, she could feel the tension building—Bellamy was noticing things, and it was only a matter of time before he pieced it all together.

As she finished, Clarke opened her suitcase to grab a scarf, only for her eyes to land on the pregnancy test she’d tucked away. She hesitated, her chest tightening, before quickly grabbing it and tossing it into the trash bin beside the sink. She wasn’t ready. Not now, not with everyone here for Christmas. She’d deal with it after the holiday, she told herself, trying to push the thought to the back of her mind.

Steeling herself, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the warmth of the house. The scent of holiday cooking wafted through the air as Kane and Abby worked together in the kitchen, their voices blending harmoniously as they prepared dinner. The sound of the doorbell broke the calm, and Clarke heard Abby call out from the kitchen.

“Clarke, can you get that?”

“Got it,” Clarke called back, making her way to the door. She opened it to find Raven standing there, a stack of brightly wrapped presents balanced in her arms and a grin on her face.

“Raven!” Clarke exclaimed, stepping aside to let her in.

“Merry Christmas!” Raven said, kicking off her boots and setting the presents on a nearby table before pulling Clarke into a tight hug.

“You didn’t have to bring all this,” Clarke said, gesturing to the pile.

“Are you kidding? You guys are my family. Of course I did,” Raven said, waving her off.

Clarke smiled, her heart warming at the sentiment. Raven had always been more than a friend—she was family in every sense that mattered.

Not long after, the doorbell rang again, and this time it was Jackson. Clarke’s face lit up as she opened the door to find him holding a pie in one hand and a small gift bag in the other.

“Hey, Clarke,” Jackson said with a warm smile. “Merry Christmas.”

“Jackson!” Clarke pulled him into a hug before stepping aside to let him in.

Jackson was like the older brother she never had, a steady presence in her life who always knew how to make her feel safe and supported. He was one of Abby’s closest colleagues, and over the years, he’d become an integral part of their family.

“You’re just in time,” Clarke said as he handed her the pie. “Mom and Kane are in the kitchen.”

“Of course they are,” Jackson said with a chuckle. “Let me go say hi.”

As the rest of Clarke’s extended family began to trickle in, the house grew livelier, filled with the sounds of laughter, hugs, and cheerful greetings. Clarke did her best to immerse herself in the holiday spirit, catching up with relatives and sneaking glances at Bellamy, who was deep in conversation with Lincoln and Kane.

Despite the warmth and joy around her, the secret she carried weighed heavily on her. She knew she couldn’t keep brushing it aside forever, but for now, she focused on the love and laughter surrounding her, promising herself she’d find the right time to share her truth.

As Raven passed by with a mischievous grin and a glass of cider in hand, she leaned in close to Clarke and whispered, “You’re holding up great, but just so you know—I’ve got your back. Always.”

Clarke smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude. She wasn’t ready yet, but when the time came, she knew she’d have the support of the people who mattered most.

The dining room was a picture of holiday perfection. The table was set with Abby’s best china, candles flickered softly in the center, and the air was filled with the mouthwatering aroma of ham, roasted vegetables, and fresh-baked rolls. Everyone gathered around, laughter and conversation flowing freely as plates were passed around.

As Abby entered the room with the champagne, Clarke’s stomach twisted into a knot. She watched as her mom began pouring the golden liquid into the glasses, the bubbles fizzing up in a way that felt oddly threatening to Clarke.

“This is the perfect way to toast to Christmas,” Abby said, her voice cheerful as she made her way around the table.

Clarke swallowed hard, panic creeping in as the champagne glass was placed in front of her. She couldn’t drink it, but she also couldn’t come up with a good reason not to without raising suspicion.

She glanced at Raven, who caught her eye from across the table. Raven raised an eyebrow, instantly understanding Clarke’s silent plea for help.

As Clarke’s thoughts raced, she stood abruptly, reaching for her napkin. In the motion, her hand “accidentally” hit the glass of champagne, sending it tumbling to the floor with a dramatic crash.

“Oh no!” Clarke exclaimed, her voice filled with feigned panic as the liquid spread across the floor. She turned, her elbow catching the remaining bottle on the edge of the table. It teetered for a moment before falling, landing with a loud clunk and spilling onto the rug.

The table fell silent for a beat as everyone stared at the mess.

“Clarke!” Abby said, startled but more concerned than upset.

“I’m so sorry!” Clarke said quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins and crouching down to clean up. “I—I was just trying to grab my napkin, and I didn’t see the glass. Let me fix this.”

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Abby said, hurrying over to help.

Raven, ever the opportunist, jumped in. “Wow, Clarke,” she said, her tone playful. “Really going for the drama tonight, huh? Guess you didn’t want any champagne after all.”

Bellamy, sitting beside Clarke, leaned over to look at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah,” Clarke said, nodding and forcing a sheepish smile. “Just clumsy, I guess.”

Jackson laughed from his seat. “It’s not a real holiday without someone spilling something, right?”

The tension in the room eased as people chuckled and began helping clean up. Raven took the opportunity to gather the remaining champagne glasses and hand them to Abby. “Maybe we’ll skip the toast this year,” she said smoothly. “Or at least switch to cider.”

Clarke shot her a grateful look, mouthing a silent thank you as the mess was finally under control.

As everyone settled back into their seats, Bellamy reached for Clarke’s hand under the table, his touch warm and grounding. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice low.

Clarke nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. Just embarrassed,” she said softly, hoping it would be enough to satisfy his concern for now.

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics and plates were filled with food, Clarke let out a quiet breath of relief. She’d managed to avoid the champagne this time, but she knew the moment of truth was coming. For now, though, she was grateful for Raven’s quick thinking and for the love and laughter surrounding her at the table.

The dining room was alive with the soft clinking of silverware and the warm hum of conversation as everyone dug into the feast Kane and Abby had prepared. Clarke finally found herself relaxing, her nerves settling as she took a bite of the perfectly cooked ham, the savory flavor reminding her of all the Christmas dinners she’d shared in this house.

As she savored the food, Abby began telling a story, her voice light and nostalgic.

“You know,” Abby started, setting her fork down with a smile, “this reminds me of when Clarke was little—she must’ve been about six or seven—and she insisted on helping me bake cookies for Christmas.”

Clarke groaned softly, her cheeks flushing. “Mom, no. Not the cookie story.”

“Oh, definitely the cookie story,” Abby said with a grin, ignoring Clarke’s protests. “So, she’s in the kitchen with her little apron on, determined to do everything herself. She measures the flour, the sugar, cracks the eggs—you name it. She’s got her serious face on, too, like she’s the next big chef.”

Bellamy chuckled, already intrigued. “I can totally picture that.”

“Right?” Abby said, her eyes twinkling. “Well, what she didn’t tell me was that she decided to add her own secret ingredient.”

“Oh no,” Bellamy said, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this. “What was it?”

“Cinnamon,” Abby said, laughing. “And not just a pinch—she dumped half the jar into the dough.”

The table burst into laughter as Clarke covered her face with her hands.

“Needless to say, the cookies came out looking fine but tasting like someone had dared you to eat a mouthful of cinnamon. They were practically inedible.” Abby leaned back in her chair, her smile softening. “But Clarke was so proud of them, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her. So, I ate three and pretended they were amazing.”

“You ate them?” Bellamy asked, his eyes wide, his laughter genuine.

“Oh, you better believe it,” Abby said with a chuckle. “I had a stomach ache for the rest of the night, but it was worth it just to see how happy she was.”

Bellamy turned to Clarke, his grin wide. “You’ve been a trailblazer since you were a kid, huh? Secret recipes and all.”

Clarke rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “I stand by my choices. Cinnamon’s a classic holiday spice.”

“Sure,” Bellamy teased. “Just maybe less of it next time.”

The laughter around the table continued, the story warming the atmosphere even more. Clarke glanced at Bellamy, his face still lit up with amusement, and felt a flicker of happiness amidst the chaos of the day. Moments like this reminded her of the love and joy that came with family—both the one she was born into and the one she was building.

–

After dinner, the group took a much-needed break, letting the meal settle as they transitioned into the living room. The warm glow of the fireplace cast a cozy light over the space, and the Christmas tree sparkled with ornaments and lights. Plates of dessert were being prepared in the kitchen, but for now, the focus was on exchanging the remaining gifts.

Clarke and Bellamy sat on the couch together, Bellamy’s arm draped casually around her shoulders. Octavia stood nearby with a mischievous grin, holding a small stack of gifts wrapped in vibrant paper.

“Alright,” Octavia said, setting the gifts on the coffee table in front of them. “These are for you two. Go ahead and open them. I picked them out myself, so you know they’re good.”

Clarke laughed, picking up the first gift while Bellamy grabbed the second. They exchanged a glance before tearing into the paper.

Clarke unwrapped hers first, revealing a set of beautifully designed travel mugs with personalized engravings. Hers read “Clarke, fueled by creativity,” while Bellamy’s read “Bellamy, powered by history lessons.”

“These are amazing,” Clarke said, holding hers up to admire it.

“Practical and stylish,” Bellamy added, grinning as he examined his. “Good call, O.”

Octavia smirked. “I figured you’d need those for all the road trips you keep talking about. You’re welcome.”

Bellamy nudged Clarke playfully. “Guess this means we have to plan one soon.”

“Definitely,” Clarke said, smiling back at him.

Next, Raven stepped forward, her arms filled with small, colorfully wrapped gifts. “Alright, my turn,” she said, handing out her presents one by one.

When Clarke opened hers, she found a set of high-quality sketching pencils and a notebook filled with thick, textured paper. She ran her fingers over the cover, her heart warming at the thought Raven had put into the gift.

“Raven, this is perfect,” Clarke said, looking up at her.

Raven shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I figured you could use something for all the brilliant ideas you haven’t told us about yet.”

Bellamy opened his next, revealing a vintage map of early civilizations, framed in sleek black wood. His eyes lit up as he traced the intricate details.

“Wow, Raven,” he said, genuinely impressed. “This is incredible.”

“I thought it might fit in your new house,” Raven said with a wink. “You know, once you guys finally move in.”

Clarke and Bellamy exchanged a smile, the excitement of their upcoming move bubbling back to the surface.

As the gift exchange continued, the room was filled with laughter and gratitude. Each present seemed to carry a little piece of thoughtfulness, a reminder of how close this group had become over the years. Clarke felt a wave of contentment wash over her, the love and connection surrounding her making the holiday feel truly special.

Octavia sighed dramatically as she returned from the hallway, “Whoever’s in that bathroom better have a good excuse. I’ve been waiting forever,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

Clarke, seated on the couch with Bellamy, glanced up with a smirk. “Just use mine. It’s upstairs in my old bedroom.”

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t want to invade your space.”

“It’s fine,” Clarke said with a wave of her hand. “Go ahead. Second door on the left.”

“Thank you!” Octavia exclaimed, already heading for the stairs. “You’re a lifesaver, Clarke.”

Octavia descended the stairs with a wide grin, practically vibrating with excitement. The room was buzzing with chatter, but her energy was impossible to ignore. As soon as she spotted Bellamy, she made a beeline for him, her hands clasped around something.

“Bellamy!” Octavia squealed, throwing her arms around her brother in an exuberant hug. “Congratulations! Oh my God, I can’t believe it. This is amazing!”

Bellamy froze, his brow furrowing as he looked at her in confusion. “Uh, thanks? But… for what?”

Octavia stepped back, beaming as she held up the pregnancy test like a trophy. “For this! You’re going to be a dad, Bell! I’m so happy—I’m going to be an aunt!”

The room went silent in an instant, every pair of eyes snapping to Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke’s face turned ashen, her heart hammering in her chest. Raven, seated nearby, mumbled, “Oh shit,” under her breath, her hand flying to her face.

Bellamy blinked, his gaze shifting from the test in Octavia’s hand to Clarke. “What…?” His voice trailed off as he looked back at Octavia. “Wait, no. Clarke’s not pregnant.”

Octavia’s smile faltered as she looked between the two of them, her excitement dimming. “What? But… I found this in the trash upstairs. I thought it was part of a surprise you were planning!”

Bellamy turned to Clarke, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. “Clarke?”

Clarke opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her throat felt tight, and her mind raced as the weight of the moment crashed down on her. This wasn’t how she had wanted to tell him—certainly not in front of everyone, and definitely not like this.

“Clarke?” Bellamy prompted again, his voice softer this time.

Her gaze darted around the room, landing briefly on Raven, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor. Finally, Clarke took a deep breath and stood, her hands trembling slightly.

“Bellamy,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was going to tell you… I just didn’t know how.“

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw. Bellamy’s eyes widened as the realization sank in, and the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his reaction.

Clarke’s chest felt tight, her emotions swirling as tears brimmed in her eyes. She couldn’t hold it in any longer. Without a word, she stood, grabbing her coat from the back of the chair. She barely registered her mom saying something—maybe a question, maybe concern—as she quickly walked out the front door.

The cold winter air hit her immediately, stinging her cheeks and pulling her breath from her lungs. Snow was still falling softly, blanketing the world in a quiet calm that starkly contrasted the chaos inside her mind. She wrapped her coat tightly around herself, leaning against the porch railing, her hands trembling as she stared into the snowy night.

“Clarke.”

The sound of Bellamy’s voice made her stiffen. She didn’t turn around, afraid of what she’d see on his face—anger, confusion, disappointment. She couldn’t bear it.

Bellamy stepped closer, his boots crunching in the snow. He stopped a few feet away, giving her space but not letting her run. “Hey,” he said softly. “Talk to me. Please.”

Clarke let out a shaky breath, her tears falling freely now. She turned to face him, her voice breaking as she said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like that. I—I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, and I was so scared of how you’d react, of what this would mean for us…”

Bellamy’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer, his hands gently gripping her arms. “Clarke, stop,” he said firmly, his voice steady but full of warmth. “You don’t have to be scared. Not me. Not of this.”

Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, his dark eyes searching hers. “You’re not mad?” she whispered.

“Mad?” Bellamy’s face softened, a small, incredulous smile tugging at his lips. “Clarke, I’m not mad. I’m… I’m excited. Shocked, sure. But mostly excited.”

Her eyes widened, her tears slowing as she processed his words. “You… you are?”

He nodded, his hands moving to cup her face, his thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks. “Yeah. I mean, this isn’t how I pictured finding out, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is incredible news. We’re going to have a baby, Clarke. Our baby.”

Clarke let out a choked laugh, her body shaking as relief and emotion washed over her. “I thought you’d be upset. Or overwhelmed.”

Bellamy smiled, his forehead resting against hers. “Overwhelmed, maybe. But upset? Never. Clarke, I love you. And now we’re starting something new together. Yeah, it’s scary, but we’ve faced scarier things before. We can do this.”

Her tears turned to laughter, a weight she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying lifting off her shoulders. She threw her arms around his neck, holding him tightly as the snow fell around them.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Bellamy hugged her back, his grip strong and reassuring. “We’ll figure it out, one step at a time,” he said softly. “But right now, let’s go back inside. You’ve got a whole group of people who are ready to celebrate with us.”

Clarke pulled back slightly, her cheeks still damp but her smile bright. “Okay. But I’m making you explain to Octavia why she can’t tell the world just yet.”

Bellamy laughed, taking her hand as they turned back toward the house. “Deal.”

As they stepped inside, Clarke felt a sense of peace she hadn’t felt in days. She wasn’t alone in this—she had Bellamy, her family, and her friends. And for the first time, she felt ready to face whatever came next. Together.

The house was quiet now, the lively hum of Christmas Day finally settling into a peaceful stillness. Clarke and Bellamy were in her childhood bedroom, the dim light of a bedside lamp casting a warm glow over the space. They moved quietly, changing into their pajamas and preparing for bed. The faint sound of the wind outside added to the cozy atmosphere.

Clarke was brushing her hair by the mirror when Bellamy spoke, his voice soft but filled with emotion. “You know,” he said, leaning against the doorway, “you gave me the best Christmas present ever today.”

Clarke set her brush down, turning to face him. Her heart swelled at the warmth in his eyes, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. “Yeah?” she said softly, stepping closer to him.

He nodded, reaching out to take her hands in his. “Yeah. Finding out we’re going to have a baby—it’s not something I ever imagined happening this Christmas, but it’s perfect. You’re perfect. I still can’t believe how lucky I am.”

Clarke felt her eyes welling up again, but this time with happiness instead of fear. She squeezed his hands, her voice trembling slightly. “You’re going to be an amazing dad, Bellamy. I know it.”

He smiled, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom, Clarke. There’s no one I’d rather do this with.”

Her heart felt full as she leaned up, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. What started as a soft and tender moment deepened as Bellamy pulled her closer, his hands sliding up to frame her face. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them in the dimly lit room, their connection grounding them in a way that words couldn’t.

Bellamy felt a spark of triumph at her submission, and his hands reached out to pull her against him. Their mouths met in a fierce, hungry kiss, lips bruising as they tasted and explored. Bellamy groaned, his hands tangling in her hair, holding her in place as he ravaged her mouth. Clarke melted into him, her hands gripping his arms, moaning softly as he dominated the kiss.

Breaking away, he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and along her sensitive neck, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. 

Clarke gasped as his teeth grazed her pulse point. "Bellamy, please," she begged, her head falling back to give him better access. "I need you."

"I know, baby," he growled, his hands sliding down to grasp her hips roughly. "I'm going to take you now, make you feel just how much I've wanted you."

With a sharp tug, he spun her around, pushing her gently onto the bed. Clarke's breath hitched as she felt the hard length of him pressed against her. Bellamy's hands moved to the hem of her tank top, slowly lifting it up, his eyes dark with desire as he revealed more of her smooth, pale skin.

"So beautiful," he growled, his lips pressing kisses along her exposed shoulder blades as he lifted the shirt over her head. "Been dreaming of tasting every inch of you."

Clarke's breath caught as she felt his lips brush against her spine, his hands sliding around to cup her breasts. She arched into his touch, her head falling forward to rest against the wall. "Oh, Bellamy," she moaned, her body on fire. "Touch me. Please."

He smiled against her skin, his hands kneading her soft flesh as he lowered his head to take a taut nipple into his mouth. Sucking and laving the peak with his tongue, he listened to her moans of pleasure, feeling her press back against him, her hips moving restlessly. His own need was almost painful, but he wanted to savor her, taste every inch of her perfect skin.

Clarke whimpered as he nibbled and sucked, his beard tickling her sensitive skin. "Bellamy," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair, holding him to her. "I need more. Please, I want you inside me."

"Eager, are you?" he growled, his hands sliding down to grasp her hips once more.

"Yes," she breathed, her cheeks flushing with heat. "It's always been you, Bellamy. Only you."

Her confession sent a bolt of need straight to his groin, and he wasted no more time. Spinning her around again, he lifted her effortlessly, pressing her back against the wall as he thrust into her in one smooth motion. Clarke cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

Bellamy stilled for a moment, burying his face in her neck as he fought for control. Clarke was silk and heat around him, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically, threatening to undo him.

"Move, Bellamy," she pleaded, her voice hoarse with need. "Please, now."

With a groan, he began to move, his hands gripping her thighs as he thrust deeply, setting a brutal pace. Clarke moaned, her head falling back, eyes closed in abandon as Bellamy took her with fierce, primal passion.

"That's it, baby," he growled, his lips brushing her ear. "Take it. Take all of me."

Clarke's breath came in ragged gasps as Bellamy drove into her, his hips snapping forcefully, his need for her raw and undeniable. She met his thrusts, her own desire coiling tight within her, an ache that begged for release.

Bellamy suddenly spun around, still buried deep within her, and strode across the room to the bed. He sat down roughly, settling Clarke on his lap, her back against his chest. She cried out as the change in position sent him even deeper, and Clarke clung to his arms, her head falling back against his shoulder.

"Bellamy," she panted, her fingers digging into his forearms as he began to move again, his hands sliding up to cover her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples.

"That's right, Clarke," he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "Let me feel you fall apart around me."

Clarke's breath hitched as Bellamy shifted his hips, angling himself to hit that perfect spot within her. "Oh, God," she moaned, her head tossing from side to side. "Bellamy, don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"Never," he vowed, his mouth trailing down her neck, his teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin as his hips worked relentlessly.

Clarke cried out, her body tightening like a bowstring as her orgasm coiled and finally snapped, waves of pleasure crashing over her. Bellamy groaned as he felt her climax, his hands tightening on her hips as he thrust through her orgasm, prolonging her pleasure.

Clarke slumped against him, her breath coming in short gasps as he continued to move within her, his own release building. "Ride my face, Clarke," he ordered, his voice hoarse. "Want to taste you as you come again."

Clarke shuddered at his words, a spark of desire flaring anew. With a gentle hand, Bellamy lowered her to the bed and watched with dark, smoldering eyes as she straddled his face, her cheeks flushed and eyes heavy-lidded with satiated desire. She lowered herself onto his waiting mouth, her breath catching as his tongue swirled and licked, his hands gripping her hips to hold her in place.

Bellamy feasted on her, his tongue slipping and sliding as he lapped at her swollen, sensitive flesh. Clarke cried out, her body trembling as Bellamy devoured her, his thumbs pressing and circling, sending sparks of pleasure through her.

"Come for me again, baby," he growled, his voice muffled as he suckled her. "Let me feel you shake."

Clarke's head fell back as she surrendered to the pleasure, her body bowing as her release crashed over her, her cries filling the room. Bellamy reveled in her taste, in the feel of her trembling above him, and his hands slid up to cover her breasts, his thumbs teasing her erect nipples as he drank his fill of her essence.

Finally, he let her slide off his mouth, his lips trailing kisses up her trembling body until she was straddling him once more. Clarke looked down at him, her eyes sparkling with desire and affection, and leaned forward to capture his mouth in a sweet, lingering kiss.

"I love you," she whispered against his lips, her body still vibrating with the aftershocks of her orgasm. "Always."

Bellamy's heart swelled with emotion at her words, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I love you too, Clarke," he murmured. 

With a gentle roll of his hips, he filled her once more, a slow, languid slide that had her moaning and settling herself more firmly against him. Bellamy closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her, surrounded by the scent and sound of the woman he loved.

They moved together in perfect harmony, their bodies understanding each other's needs, and as their passion built once more, their kisses and caresses spoke of a love that ran deeper than mere physical desire.

As their second release approached, their movements became more urgent, their kisses more desperate, until finally, they reached their peak together, crying out in abandon as their bodies pulsed and trembled in unison.

Clarke rested her head on Bellamy's chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart as she lazily traced patterns on his skin. She felt his arms tighten around her, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to her hair.

"That was..." she began, searching for the words.

"Perfect," he supplied, his voice rough with emotion.

They kissed for what felt like forever, their breaths mingling as the warmth between them grew. When they finally pulled back, their foreheads rested against each other, their smiles mirroring the love they felt.

“Merry Christmas, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered, her voice soft but steady.

“Merry Christmas, Clarke,” he murmured, his lips brushing hers one more time.

As sleep took them while wrapped in each other’s arms, Clarke felt a sense of peace she hadn’t known in weeks. The fear and uncertainty were still there, but now they were outweighed by hope and love. Together, they would face whatever challenges came their way, and Clarke finally felt ready for the journey ahead.