Bellarke one shots- smuts

It's a game

It’s a game, this thing that they do.

Sometimes he thinks that he might hate her, regardless of the fact that he can’t get enough of her. She breezes in and out of his life, almost always fucking everything up in her path of destruction, but yet he craves her more and more the longer she doesn’t come around.

He can see her when he closes his eyes at night, her blonde curls splayed out over his pillow and her thighs spread open for him, that seductive as hell look in her eyes as she bites down hard on her bottom lip.

It’s been three months since he’s had her.

He’s counting the days until he can have her again.

***

It doesn’t take long before there’s a loud knock in the middle of the night and he knows it’s her before he even opens the door.

"Princess," he says with a smirk and she rolls her eyes when she pushes past him into his apartment.

"You know I hate it when you call me that," she says snidely but she’s already unbuttoning her coat and hanging it on the back of his couch. He hates that he’s hard immediately and all he’s seen of her body in months is the small strip of skin between the bottom of her sweater and the top of her jeans. He knows it’s some fucked up Pavlovian response to her being a bitch to him and he also knows from experience that it goes both ways. It’s like a game to see if he can give as good as he gets.

"Yeah, well, ask me if I care," he retorts and her eyes narrow as she toes off her shoes. "You haven’t been around much lately." He means for it to sound bitter and hurtful but instead it just comes off whiny and a little needy.

"What’s wrong, Bellamy?" She asks, her arms crossed over her chest as she leans against his couch. "Didya miss me?"

He scoffs. “Fuck no,” he says but it’s unconvincing at best and they both know that she sees right through it. “So how’s Finn?”

He doesn’t miss the way she falters a little, a tiny movement that the average person would miss but he knows this woman better than anyone and he’s definitely hit a nerve. She recovers quickly, her eyes darkening as she rests a hand on each hip.

"He’s out of the picture," she says vaguely and he rolls his eyes. "What?"

"Out of the picture?" He crosses over to her and she sucks in a breath when he stands in front of her, close enough to touch her but he keeps his hands at his sides. "Which means that you broke it off with him so you could come here to fuck me, right?"

"Oh please," she scoffs. "You wish."

"What is it then, Princess?" He asks, moving closer to her with every word. He watches as her chest rises and falls, her breathing labored as he touches her for the first time in months, moving his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear before resting it on the side of her neck.

"Bellamy…" It comes out as a whine and he knows what she wants. He’s never been able to hold back from her for long.

"Clarke." She moans quietly at the sound of her own name and he’s smirking when he strokes his thumb over the skin behind her ear. "Tell me the truth."

Her eyes, which fluttered close only moments before pop open, the deep blue threatening to drown him alive. “About what?”