An Ocean For Me To Drown: Bellarke One Shots

My Jersey

Bellamy watched Clarke as she hummed along to the music in her headphones. She was making breakfast and coffee, the usual around the Blake house for the last year.

Clarke had moved in senior year of high school when her mother moved her boyfriend, Marcus in. Octavia and Bellamy were both over the moon, Bellamy tried to hide it though.

It was hard, hiding how hard he was a lot. How badly he sometimes wanted to just jump her or push her against a wall. Hell, every time he caught her in the laundry room, he had to resist the urge to sit her on top of the dryer and fuck her senseless.

Of course Clarke hadn't exactly invited him to do those things. Maybe she didn't realize how mad it drove him to watch her stretch in those tiny shorts before her jogs. To see her flat, toned stomach in her sports bras.

"Hey, where's Octavia? I'm done," Clarke smiled, ripping Bellamy from his fantasies of taking her on every surface of his house.

"Actually, I think she may have spent the night with a friend. I didn't see her this morning," he said.

"Dammit, I've got pancake batter on my shirt!" Clarke groaned. "And I haven't done laundry in two week, I don't think I have any more shirts. Can I steal one of your shirts while I wash?"

Bellamy had never minded when she borrowed one of his t-shirts. Several times she had taken them, claiming they were soft and comfortable. "Yeah," he shrugged. "Go for it."

Clarke handed him a plate and a mug of hot coffee before finishing her own. "Thanks, Bellamy. I'm going to grab a shirt and then shower. Do you have to work today?"

"I'm off today, I figured we could watch some movies or something," he said.

"Yeah, that's great. There's a few new ones online I haven't seen yet. Be right back," she smiled, sashaying into Bellamy's room to raid his drawers.

He sighed as he watched her hips sway, gently. Clarke had given off vibes that she liked him, too. Maybe she wanted him just as much as he wanted her?

******

Clarke got out of the shower and towel dried her hair for a few minutes, making sure it wasn't dropping. Leaning over, she shook the blonde waves, satisfied that they were drying.

Standing back upright, she pulled on her shorts, having to skip on underwear because she was shit at keeping up with laundry. She had one clean bra, but it was lace. She knew that the moment her nipples hardened, she would have to cover her chest. And she was positive they would be hard quickly while curling up with Bellamy on the couch.

She pulled his old game day jersey over her head, pulling it down under her butt, right where her short shorts ended. Tossing her towel in the basket, she started up the washing machine before finally tossing in a load of her clothes.

"Okay," she sighed as she entered the living room. "Finally, I will have some clean clothes soon."

Bellamy turned from the tv, his eyes widening. "That my jersey?"

Clarke tugged the hem a little, uncomfortable. "Is this okay? I just pulled it from your drawer."

She watched him swallow before nodding. "Yeah, it's fine," he smiled.

Clarke sat down on the couch, leaning left to put her arm over the arm rest. Bellamy sat in the middle of the couch, so Clarke stretched her legs across his lap. She felt him tense, pulling her legs up to his waist. She twisted a little as he rubbed her (thankfully shaved) legs, slowly. His hot hands seemed to set her on fire as they moved against her skin. She raised her right arm and leaned on it, covering her breasts.