Bellarke Oneshots and Prompts

1. University

Based on the prompt:
"A and B both go to the same university, but never talk to each other. A got there on a scholarship of your choice. B has to work multiple jobs to keep up with tuition. One day A goes to talk to the professor about something and finds B cleaning the class alone. What happens next?"

Clarke was one of those girls.
You know the ones. The girls that had rich or middle class parents, got straight A's throughout their entire career, played sports (and played them well.
And got full rides to college.
She'd always been fairly privileged, and could have gone practically anywhere for university. Her mom kept her close to home though, at Michigan State.
Though she did well there, still maintaining her good grades while playing volleyball, she was struggling in math. It had never been her strong suit, and she was worried it would ruin her GPA if she let it go too long. She had to get help from her professor, or she was going to fail the semester. And she couldn't afford to lose her scholarship.

Bellamy had struggled since the day he was born. He didn't breathe when he came out of the womb, but he miraculously survived, just as he'd do for twenty-two years after that. His childhood was marked by a series of doctors appointments due to his cardiomyopathy and frequent accidents. After his mother had his sister, Octavia, there wasn't enough money to go around, and he often went without food so he could give his to his baby sister.
And then came college.
He wasn't planning to go, not really. But he was smart (though he didn't do well in high school), and he had his little sister to take care of. In order to do that, he had to complete his education and work hard to ensure they had the money to live. Octavia had no idea that he worked three jobs, plus doing work around campus for some extra money. And he wanted to keep it that way, letting her think he was just out sleeping with women at night when he was really working the graveyard shift unloading boxes into a retail store. The time he spent 'studying' was actually spent mixing drinks at a local bar, and when he went for afternoon hikes, he was doing a janitorial job at an elementary school.
Times like now, as he cleaned the blackboard of his math professor's room, was covered by getting help from teachers. It worked, and it kept Octavia happy. She was doing extraordinarily well her first year at MSU.

Bellamy couldn't help but smile to himself as he thought of his younger sister, his hand sweeping a rag across the blackboard to cleanse it of chalk. With his height, he could easily reach the top, and he was nearly done when he heard the door open and footsteps entering the room. He turned around slowly, wiping his hands off and tossing the rag onto the side of a bucket.
"Can I help you?" he asked of the blonde girl standing in front of him. He recognized her from the pre-calc class they had together, as well as from volleyball games and practices he occasionally walked by. Her name was...Clarke. Yes, that was--
"Um, no." His thoughts were cut off by her words, and he arched an eyebrow at her short response. "I mean, I was just looking for Professor Kane. I was just confused by today's assignment, and I thought maybe he might help me figure it out. Math isn't my strong suit, and I have no idea what's going on with cosine, so..." Clarke snapped her mouth shut, flushing at her mindless rambling. "Yeah. That was all I was looking for. Is he around?" she asked weakly, looking anywhere but at her classmate. She felt awkward here, as if she'd stumbled upon some private moment of his life. Why was he here, anyways? What was he doing?
"Professor Kane left for the weekend. He won't be back until Monday," Bellamy informed her smoothly, crossing his arms. Clarke bit her lip before giving him a brief smile.
"Oh. Right. He sent us an email about that, huh?" she remembered, getting only a blink from Bellamy. She cleared her throat and started to back out of the room. "Okay. Well...nice to see you, Blaine. Have a good night." As soon as she turned around, Bellamy rolled his eyes in irritation. She didn't even know his name. Not that it mattered. He brushed his curly hair out of his eyes and picked up the mop, cleaning the floor like he did every night around 5. He turned around, and Clarke was still there, looking nervous. He did his best to ignore her, but soon had to stop.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he snapped, leaning the mop against a desk and crossing his arms defiantly. Clarke again flushed a delicate shade of pink.
"I'm sorry. I was just wondering if maybe you would be willing to um...explain the assignment? I've seen some of your test scores; they're always the best in the class." Bellamy stared at her for a few seconds, until she looked around nervously. "Um. Right then. I'll see you Tuesday for class." Bellamy turned to begin mopping again, making only a few strokes across the floor before he sighed.
"Wait," he called, not turning around. Clarke, however, spun around anxiously, wondering if she was about to be murdered by this seemingly unfriendly kid. He finally turned around, dropping the mop. "I can help you." Clarke tilted her head in interest.
"Really? I mean, that would be great," she said, sounding excited. Bellamy nodded, though he was wary. This kind of girl had never been one that he'd done anything but sleep with, and he was hesitant to form any sort of bond with her. He couldn't trust her.
"Go ahead, take a seat. I just need to finish up here," he told her shortly, grabbing the mop and starting again as he watched the blonde sit down out of the corner of his eye.
"So, um, Blaine--" she began, but he immediately cut her off.
"Bellamy."
"Sorry?" she questioned in confusion.
"My name is Bellamy. Bellamy Blake." He turned around and gave her a look, seeming emotionless.
"Oh, gosh. I'm sorry. I thought it was....okay. Um. My name is Clarke. Clarke Griffin," she offered, trying to make things better.
"I know who you are, princess," he replied with a slight smile, beginning to work again. "Captain of the volleyball team, here on a full scholarship. I've heard my sister talk about you." Clarke gave him a rather startled look that soon turned defiant.
"Yeah? Who's your sister?" she asked, prepared for the gossip that she was about to hear about herself. She knew somehow that this Bellamy guy wouldn't hold back. He wasn't afraid of hurting her feelings.
"Octavia Blake. Freshman. Like you." Now that rung a bell.
"Octavia...she does gymnastics, right?" At a curt nod from Bellamy, she continued. "She's really good. I've seen her practice in the gym." Bellamy smiled. He'd coached her for years, he knew she was good.
"Yeah. She is," he agreed.
"What does she tell you about me?" Clarke asked curiously, and Bellamy shrugged.
"Talks about your volleyball skills, your fashion, your English grades. Your--" he cleared his throat "--'essentially useless followers'." He chuckled at that one, and Clarke frowned.
"Excuse me?" she asked, now putting her hands on her hips.
"Relax, princess. She looks up to you, that's all. Doesn't like your posse much though." Clarke bristled at that, but let it go.
"Alright. You clearly know about me. So what about you, Bellamy Blake? What do you do?" she asked, and he paused.
"Nothing, really. I look after my sister," he said truthfully, not looking at Clarke.
"Oh come on, Bellamy. I know there's something else interesting about you. You have the highest grade in our entire pre-calc class. You're a ladies man. You obviously respect Professor Kane, even though you don't seem to give a damn about anyone else." Bellamy turned to give her a cool glare.
"I don't do this because I respect Kane," he replied coldly. "If you think that, you're delusional." Clarke shrank back slightly in her seat at his harsh words, but couldn't help pushing it.
"Then why?" she pressed.
"How do you think my sister and I are going to get through college? We didn't get a free pass like you, princess," he pointed out. And for the first time, Clarke felt a little guilty about her privilege. He put down the mop and sat in a seat next to her. "Alright. Let's get cracking on this so you can go play beer pong with your friends and I can go to work," he suggested, motioning for her to take out the book. Clarke took it out, but was caught on his last words.
"Go to work? Isn't this your job?" she blurted out, earning a sharp, incredulous glare from Bellamy. "You really don't get it, do you?" he asked, shaking his head. "Working an hour here every night isn't going to get my sister and I through college."
"So you have two jobs?" Clarke pushed.
"I have four," Bellamy retorted, slamming the book open. "Now, do you want to pass pre-calc, or do you want to dig deeper into my past and risk a fist to the jaw?" His eyes were aflame; he hated these kinds of questions. Clarke looked taken aback, knowing he was serious. She slowly flipped to the right page in the book and pulled out her notes as well as a blank piece of paper.
"Alright. Let's do this."