Octavia Blake / M. Avgeropoulos Oneshots

Jealousy - Octavia Blake

Requested by @TheWorldStarstar. I'm so sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoy it :)

Word Count: 771

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Grunting, you stumbled back after being punched in the gut. You quickly regained your footing and expertly dodged the strike that followed, nearly loosing your balance.

"Come on, Blake!" you taunted, wiping the trickle of sweat off your forehead.

Bellamy smirked, and brought both fists back up, "Now you're asking for it."

He stepped forward and swung, but you dodged him again, then landed a punch. Bellamy stumbled back, groaning. He held his gut, and you landed another before shoving him to the black mats underneath y'all's feet.

Victorious, you pumped both fists in the air, an excited smile etched across your facial features. "HAH! In your face, Bellamy!"

Holding his bare abdomen, he sat up. "Really?" he squinted up at you from the training mats. "You couldn't have gone a little easy?"

You clicked your tongue on the roof of your mouth, "Oh, come on, cry baby . . . my teacher would not be impressed if I went easy on you."

"Yeah, well . . . tell your teacher to stop being a good teacher. She can kick my ass anytime she wants."

Chuckling, you walked toward him and knelt in front of him, your expression changing from playful to one of somewhat seriousness. "You're fun to beat up on."

Unamused, Bellamy lifted one of his dark brows, "That so?"

"Yup." You popped the 'p', smirking.

In the blink of an eye, you're unexpectedly under Bellamy; your back's on the mats, him hovering over you, and his smirk wider than before. He trapped your hands against your sides. "Having fun now?"

"Ew, Bellamy! Get off," you groaned, your legs flailing around. "You're sweaty and gross." Bellamy shifted his gaze lower than your eyes. "And you're being extra weird." He snapped his gaze to you, "It's not like you've never seen me in a sports bra while training."

  "What the hell is going on?"

You snapped your head to the entrance of the training room. Somewhere inside that chest of yours, your heart swelled and leaped —Octavia couldn't have been more than on time. She inched further into the training room, glaring daggers at Bellamy.

Feeling Bellamy's grip immediately loosen upon his sister's arrival, you scurried from underneath him, Bellamy's full attention on Octavia.

"We were training, O," he annoyingly replied.

Octavia scoffed, unconvinced, while Bellamy strode across the room to his discarded black tee. "Pft, yeah. 'Training'." Bellamy slipped his tee over his sweaty head, while you remained on the mats, watching their interaction. Octavia approached you and offered you her arm, "Trapping her under you isn't training." You grabbed her arm, and she hoisted you up.

It was Bellamy's turn to scoff. He rolled his dark brown eyes, "Nothing happened, Octavia," he justified.

"Get out." Octavia demanded, her sharp jaw clenching, and Bellamy happily exited.

Sighing, you inclined your head, your hand still clasped around Octavia's forearm, and her's still clasped around yours even tighter. "You didn't have to do that, Octavia," you said quietly, but you're glad she did.

Octavia immediately switched gears. "Did my brother hurt you?" The concern that laced her voice caught you completely off guard. You've grown used to her concern during y'all's training sessions, but something had been different this time; this tone's completely new to you.

You shook your head, meeting her worried gaze. "No."

  She stepped closer to you, leaving hardly any distance between y'all, and cupped your cheeks that are still pink from training. "You sure?"

  Smiling reassuringly, you nodded, and copy her actions. "Yes, Octavia. It was harmless fun."

  "Didn't look like it," she grumbled lowly.

  Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you slid your hands to the lower part of her cheeks; your thumbs being the only thing that touched her cheeks while the rest of your hands touched her neck. "Are you okay?"

  "Screw it." Octavia breathed out.

  Before you could process her words and ask what she meant, her lips met yours. She pulled back before you had the chance to return the kiss. Her lips parted to ruin the moment, but you initiated the next kiss.

  In record timing, you're under her on the black mats, one of her hands roaming wildly about on your torso while the other held herself above you. An arm of yours caged her neck while the other came around her back.

  Breaking away for air, you smirked up into her sea of green, "Is someone jealous?"

  Octavia failed to hide her smile, "Shut up." And her smile only widened against your lips as you deepened the kiss.

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