Bellarke One-Shots [A Collection of Stories]

In The Morning Light

{Ever so Tender}

When the morning light comes drifting in through Bellamy's tent, it wakes not only the girl sleeping beside him, but her soul as well.

Clarke knew it was morning before she even opened her eyes.

She felt it in the gentle rays of light that warmed her skin. She smelt it in the freshness of a newly dewed forest. She heard it in the musical language that all morning birds sing.

But most all, Clarke knew it was daybreak by the way Bellamy was tenderly brushing her skin and hair. He did it every morning, just before she awoke. It was his way of waking her up without waking her up.

Clarke made a soft, content noise in the back of her throat and stretched out beneath the covers like a newborn kitten. Her legs tangled with Bellamy's under the sheets as she rolled onto her stomach. Pushing herself up, she kissed the underside of his jaw - the exact spot where she knew he liked to be kissed.

"Good morning, Clarke." He murmured, his voice thick and heavy with sleep.

Bellamy brought his hand up and tangled his fingers in her hair, lightly kissing her nose. Beneath the covers, Clarke's toes curled and she smiled. She loved mornings. She loved the peacefulness of them. For her, it was a time of renewal.

"Morning." She mumbled, lowering her head to his shoulder. Sleep still clung to her like an insistent child and she relented.

Once more, she closed her eyes.

Bellamy nuzzled her hair, breathing her in as both hands found their way up beneath her tank top, skimming her back. Clarke's skin immediately recognized his touch and quiet shivers of pleasure trickled through her body. His hands, calloused and strong, knew her well and knew how to love her.

"I think we should stay in bed." Clarke's voice was muffled as she snuggled closer to Bellamy.

He chuckled and she felt it in his chest. His hand brushed her hip bone, his fingers finding their way under the waistband of her shorts. "And what do you propose we do?"

"Sleep."

"It's going to take a lot more than sleep to convince me to stay in bed," Bellamy said, stroking the soft skin just above her tailbone. "We have things to do today."

It took all of Clarke's self-control not to shudder beneath his touch. She brought her head up and repositioned herself on Bellamy's chest so that she was lying on top of him. She slowly sat up, the sheets dropping to below her waist. Smiling, she bent down and kissed the side of his mouth.

"Surveillance can wait," she whispered, then kissed his temple. "Hunting can wait."

Clarke kissed his eyelids as they closed for her. "Murphy can wait."

"Murphy can't wait," Bellamy grumbled and gently brushed her cheeks. "He doesn't know how."

Bringing her hands up, Clarke began to play with Bellamy's hair, liking the way his curls bounced when she pulled her hand back. She loved mornings, but she quite possibly loved his hair more. It was long, covering the tips of his ears and neck - perfect to tug on as Clarke was doing now. If there was one thing Bellamy enjoyed more than anything else, it would be her playing with his hair.

He growled and she felt the deep vibrations penetrate skin. When Bellamy made that kind of noise, it excited her entire being.

"Bell," Clarke said in a sultry voice, giving a light tug on one of his curls. "Your duties aren't going anywhere. It's still early. Half the camp isn't even awake yet."

"What do you say about waking them up?" He asked and sat up in bed. Clarke pulled back until she was sitting on his lap, her legs bent at either side of his hips. Bellamy cocked an eyebrow, smiling like the devil himself. "It's a win-win."

Clarke appeared to think on the statement, letting her hands run across his broad shoulders and down to his chest. She stopped at his lower waist before looking back at him. Bellamy was gazing at her with an almost longing expression, his eyes alight with adoration, lust - and more than that - love.

Her answer was in the tilt of her head, her arms around his neck, the soft exhalation as Clarke tenderly kissed his lips.

Bellamy's hands came down her back, found the hem of her shirt and in one swift motion, drew it over her head. Clarke pressed against his chest, wanting to feel her skin flush up against his. And soon, it was no longer her pulling on his hair, but Bellamy tugging on hers.

They kissed one another as if every kiss would be their last, as if the world was burning and they along with it.

Bellamy rolled over onto Clarke, taking care not to crush her under his weight. With his forearms on either side of her shoulders, he bent down, kissing her at an excruciating slow pace.

Clarke moaned, wanting so much more.

When he pulled away for a moment, Clarke murmured, "It's going to take a lot more than that to wake up the camp, Bellamy."

"Then let's try a little harder..." He replied, his voice rough with need.

And, when he pressed his lips to hers, Clarke smiled.