#Clexa prompt
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@dreamsaremywords thanks for the prompt. Literally just wrote this quickly. Ignore any mistakes.
Prompt: clexa arguing over the best ways to butter toast
Clarke hummed to herself as she buttered her toast sticking the butter knife into the block on the butter dish and forcing it to spread on the freshly toasted toast. The bread was ripping apart from the force.
Lexa stood next to her in horror.
âLove, Clarke, erm. Why are you buttering your toast that way?â
Clarke raised her brow in question, âLex, this is the only way to make butter on toast.â
Lexa stared at the butchered toast.
âClarke, no thereâs other ways.â She said holding in a smirk.
Clarke folded her arms facing Lexa, âgo on then, show me how you butter your toast with that rock.â
Lexa smirk broke as she took the butter knife from Clarke, âwhile the toast is fresh, you want to scrape some butter, let it curl on the knife and spread it lightly so it just soaks in.â
She turns to Clarke who was still looking at her with her brow still raised.
âI know how to butter toast, Lexa.â
âClearly not, youâve butchered yours!â Lexa pointed to the holes in the now soggy toast.
âBut itâs my toast, you might be perfect in everything you do, even if it is toast!â Clarke was taking this a little too seriously.
Lexa was only winding her up and it was working.
âIâm perfect in everything I do, huh?â Lexa put the butter knife down, forgetting her nicely spread toast as she moved closer to Clarke.
âOh you know you are, being a lawyer, an aunty to Ravenâs and Anyaâs child, the way you hold yourself and the way you make me orgasm, everything you do is perfect even buttering the pathetic bread!â Clarke was irate.
Lexa pulled Clarkeâs folded arms free and held her waist, âlove, Iâm winding you up.â
âWell it worked.â Clarke relaxed in Lexaâs hold, she couldnât never be annoyed in Lexaâs arms.
âI did like the sound of what you said about when you orgasm.â Lexa lowered her gaze to Clarkeâs lip seductively.
âI thought youâd perk your ears up at that.â Clarke scoffed, she now had her arms around Lexaâs slender neck bring her closer.
Lexa leaned into Clarke, pressing into the right places, âWant me to make it up to you?â
Clarke brushed her fingers down the back of Lexaâs neck where her hair was loose from her messy bun.
âLexa, youâre going to crumple your outfit.â Clarke pulled away slightly checking her wife out.
Lexa wore a causal white v-neck top, light grey tailored slacks and black patent brogues finishing it off with her glasses.
She looked damn hot.
âItâd be worth it,â Lexa kissed Clarke and lingered.
Clarke bit her bottom lip and looked up at Lexaâs growing darker ones then leaned in.
âI just got my period this morning.â Clarke stated as she just kissed the side of Clarkeâs cheek and walked away satisfied with herself.
âThat explains a lot,â Lexa muttered.
#clexa#clarke and lexa#Clexa prompt#clexa fic#one shot#lawyer Lexa#lexa and clarke#clexa vibes#clexa au
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I had this vision of Clarke and Lexa (omega verse) inviting Abby and her boyfriend to a 1 week trip in the forest of at the beach, and theyâre in this cute cute cabin together, itâs really nice, and their bedroom is close to one another, however Clarke and Lexa discreetly asked if the walls were thick which the owner said yes, so one night Clarke and Lexa get in ON like for easily 1 hour right, several times, and the next morning Abby and her boyfriend look at them like đď¸đđď¸, they could hear even what was softly said, so the FILTHY things they said did not fall in deaf ears.
Lexa could be quite uptight with Abby as sheâs intimidated by her, like Clarke is her only child and all, so Lexas always very proper with minimal pda you KnowâŚ
If you still take promps, could you maybe do this one ?
The insistent call of early birds is what brings Lexa back from a dreamless sleep. She blinks awake in the unfamiliar room, the low wooden ceiling welcoming her morning. She stretches like a lazy cat, and the source of warmth on her back hums at her ear.
"Good morning," Clarke whispers hoarsely, their naked legs intertwining under the fur blanket. Lexa turns and kisses Clarke good morning, teasing sleep away with another kiss on her neck. "For the love of god, I canât go again," Clarke protests as Lexa continues to kiss her collarbone. "Iâm ridiculously sore, babe."
"You okay?" Lexa asks behind the curtain of wild curls, and Clarke nods.
"Yeah, but give me a break, okay? Last night was..." She bites her lips, and Lexa follows the movement with a bite of her own.
"Good?" Lexa grunts on a marked neck.
"Very good." They meet for another kiss.
The sound of pans and cutlery cuts through their quiet room. "I think my mom and Kane are already up." Clarke bumps their noses and leans down for a long, sleepy yawn. "I could go for eggs."
"Or bacon," Lexa agrees, and they make their slow way to the bathroom.
Eggs are sizzling in the kitchen by the time the couple trots down the stairs in search of breakfast.
"Smells good!" Clarke sits by the kitchen island as Lexa sets the table. Marcus, one hand working on pancake batter and the other on the eggs, turns to offer them a smile.
"Good morning, ladies!" His teeth shine between a trimmed beard.
"Whereâs mom?" Clarke asks with a grape in her mouth, eyeing the pancake toppings on the island.
Marcus turns back to the stove. "She went for a run."
"This early? Thatâs not like her."
"She didnât sleep very well," Marcus says, mostly to the stove, and checks through the cabin window. "Okay, let me just get it out of the way before sheâs back." He makes a 180 with his pink apron in place and joins his hands over his chest. "Letâs just say," Marcus starts, his beard not being enough to cover his blush, "the walls in this cabin are thin."
The sound of porcelain shattering on wood breaks the silence that followed Marcusâ statement. Clarke looks back to see Lexa, so red sheâs purple, shocked still as the plate she was holding is now in pieces on the floor.
"We know youâre adults," Marcus continues, "but youâre her only child, Clarke, and her little omega girl."
Lexa sits heavily on the table, her once-red face now turning pale.
Clarke moves into damage control mode.
"Babe." She sits in the chair next to Lexa, who keeps staring at nothing, unresponsive. "Babe, itâs okay. Weâre married. My mom knowsâ"
"Your mother heard us," Lexa whispers almost to herself.
"We donât know how much she heard."
"Very much," Marcus adds unhelpfully. "By the way, kudos."
"Marcus, please," Clarke shoots back at her motherâs boyfriend, eyeing her PTSD-wife, and Marcus shrugs.
"Lexa," Clarke says, touching her wifeâs hand, and itâs cold. "That wonât change how my mom sees you. Okay, she heard a couple thingsâ"
"Lots of things."
"Kane, youâre not helping!" Clarke shouts, and it is at that moment that the cabinâs door opens to reveal Abby Griffin, dressed in winter sports gear, sweat evaporating from her temples. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and she mumbles good morning without meeting Clarkeâs eyes.
"Iâll help with food," Abby adds, and she kisses Marcusâ cheek as she heaps eggs onto plates.
By the time the four of them sit at the table, the silence is unbearable. Lexa can barely move, her eyes cast down; Clarke tries to find her motherâs eyes, but the older alpha avoids them every time. Kane seems to be the only one immune to the tension, happily flooding his plate with syrup.
"All right," Kane declares, feeling pitiful at Lexaâs almost catatonic state. "Letâs address this as adults; otherwise, we wonât survive the rest of the weekend."
"Marcus, no," Abby says, still avoiding her daughter and daughter-in-law. Lexa whimpers.
"Abby"âMarcus takes a bite of his pancakeâ"Clarke is 28. Sheâs married. We all know they have sex."
Lexa chokes on nothing while Abby growls softly at the back of her throat. Clarke blushes furiously but nods.
"Maybe before last night, we didnât know for how long or the detailsâ"
"Marcus!" Abby hits her glass on the table, and OJ flies everywhere.
"What I mean," Marcus continues, licking a drop of orange juice from his beard, "is that we are all adults and we can recover from this. Right, Clarke?"
"We didnât know we were being loud," Clarke justifies, reaching for coffee. "We never meant to make you uncomfortable, mom."
"We still have a couple nights here, so just... please keep it down. Youâre my pup." Abby finally meets her daughterâs eyes. Marcus nudges his girlfriend, and Abby apologizes, "Iâm sorry for overreacting."
"Itâs alright. Iâm more worried about Lexa." Clarke points at her wife with her chin. "I think sheâs still in shock."
Abby eyes Lexa up and down, and Lexa melts down in her chair a little bit.
"Mom, stop."
"I didnât do anything."
"She canât even touch me right now."
"Good."
"Abby, let the kids be kids."
"If your father were here...
"He would have laughed about it."
"I donât know, Abby. Clarke didnât sound like she needed a new daddy last night."
Lexa continued to melt down her chair, and Abby choked on juice.
"Too soon?" Kane places another forkful of pancakes in his mouth. "At least you know grandpups will be coming soon," he adds through a mouthful.
"Oh, god," Lexa whispers before passing out.
#clexa drabble#clexa prompt#that was short but hopefully sweet?#funny?#i tried#clexa#clexa fanfiction#omegaverse#clexa omegaverse#have some alpha lexa because it's been a while
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30 - "i am sorry that you found out this way."
For Clexa đ
Hope this is okay...I took some liberties with the context of the prompt.
Clarke and Lexa had been through so much together, yet they still managed to find comfort in each other's arms. Their love was both pure and powerful, and nothing could ever come between them. Clarke knew that she could always count on Lexa, no matter what.
One day, Clarke decided to surprise Lexa with a romantic picnic in the woods. Raven and Octavia jumped at the chance to help. They spent all morning preparing Lexa's favorite foods, packing a cozy blanket, and picking out the perfect spot for them to relax and enjoy each other's company.Â
As they sat under the shade of a tall oak tree, Clarke couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the love she had for Lexa.
Lexa noticed the look in Clarke's eyes and leaned in to kiss her softly. "What are you thinking about?" she asked, running her fingers through Clarke's hair.
"Just how lucky I am to have you," Clarke replied, resting her head on Lexa's shoulder.
Lexa smiled, "I am the lucky one." Lexa leaned over and kissed the top of Clarkeâs head.
As they finished their meal, Clarke reached into her backpack and pulled out a small handmade wooden box. She handed it to Lexa, who opened it to reveal a beautiful necklace.
"It's the Infinity necklace," Clarke explained. "It represents our love and how it will last forever."
Clarke had worked for weeks on perfecting the necklace with the help of some of the friends she had made in Polis since calling it her second home. It wasnât perfect, but Clarke felt her chest radiate warmth as she looked at the smile on Lexaâs face.
Lexa was touched by the gesture and placed the necklace around her neck. "I will wear this always," she said, kissing Clarke's cheek.
As they packed up their things and headed back to camp, they were both filled with a sense of happiness and contentment. But when they arrived, they found the camp in chaos. People were running around, shouting and crying.
Clarke and Lexa made their way to the center of the commotion, where they discovered that one of the neighboring tribes had attacked their camp, killing many of their people. Clarke was devastated, and she felt a pang of guilt for leaving the camp when it needed her the most.
Lexa put her hand on Clarke's shoulder, "We will get through this together," she said, her voice calm and steady.
They helped to clean up the camp and tend to the wounded.
As the sun began to set, Clarke and Lexa found themselves alone, standing by the edge of the training grounds high above the city. They watched as the sky turned a deep shade of orange, and the stars began to twinkle in the distance.
"I am so sorry you found out this way," Clarke said, turning to face Lexa.
Lexa looked at her, confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I wanted today to be perfect. I wanted to show you how much I love you, and instead, we came back to all of this."
Lexa put her arm around Clarke's waist, "Clarke, what happened today was not your fault.â Lexa turned so she was facing Clarke and locked eyes with her. âLife is about more than just surviving.â Lexa wrapped her other arm around Clarke and pulled her in.
Clarke leaned into Lexa's embrace, feeling her warmth and strength. She knew that no matter what happened, they would always have each other.
As the night fell around them, Clarke and Lexa stood there, holding each other and looking out into the vast wilderness. Tomorrow the sun would rise and they would start to rebuild with their people. Most importantly, they would do it side-by-side forever.
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Regrets
B: Just tell me: Do you have regrets? About that night ? A: Yes. A: I have many regrets. For not holding you closer. For not cupping your face more gently, like you wanted me to. For asking but not responding. For not making sure, you knew how good you were to me. For making it about me, when i should have made it about us. But most of all I regret not telling you how glad I am that it was you. That it is you.
#sterek#destiel#writing prompt#fanfic prompt#newtmas#coldflash#supercorp#drarry#catradora#xicheng#fengqing#hualian#clexa#swanqueen#hannigram#wayhaught#kimchay
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Hi, hello, remember when i posted a little fic two years ago called 'loved your parting gift (dead people are my favorite)' and then last year i talked about how that world lives in my mind rent free and how I've imagine that very cathartic scene of Lexa bleeding at Clarke's place and her calling Anya to watch Lexa while she feeds from countless people because the sent of Lexa's blood makes her incredibly thirsty? Do you remember?
Well i didn't write that scene (actually i did but it's not edited and I'm not sure i want it to be precisely like that so) instead I wrote a little night months after, a little look into their abettor-ship.
I feel like in the first installment it looks a little like these two are pretty serious, but in my head this fic is a little cracky. Like sure Lexa is Commander of the 12 clans full of werewolf packs (this isn't abo btw) sure she's the most powerful alpha of her people, sure she can control other alphas as though they were her beta's. But also she's just a girl. She's practically 21yo (210 in reality (215 actually, which makes Clarke want to celebrate her sweet (2)16's) but she's a wolf so its the same) and she just really likes this very pretty girl, mysterious and possibly incredibly dangerous but also just a girl who with all her power (and years on earth) is actually just chilling.
So here's that little night
For Clextober 2024, Idea 16 (already on ao3)
The Halloween Party
âA Halloween party? Seriously?â Lexa deadpanned.
âA custom partyâ Clarke clarified, covered excitement in her voice.
âYeah, I got that partâ
âDonât sound so excitedâ She rolled her eyes.
âOf course Iâm not excited Clarke, Iâve seen enough terrible representation of my kind? Donât you hate those of yours?â
âWhy would I?â Clarke laughed âfew are exaggerated versions the fictional character created about us, and most are pretty simple and very accurate representation of how we really look like... humans with fangs and blood dripping down our mouths. And, by the way, I think the latest tv shows have done a pretty good job at representing your kindâ
âWhen was the last time you saw a werewolf?â Lexa narrowed her eyes, she canât remember the last time she saw a werewolf custom or tv show, but they were never flattering, and the few movies she knew about werenât great either.
âIâm standing right in front of one!â
âBefore thatâ Lexa rolled her eyes.
âIrrelevant, trirku, Iâve seen you fully and partially wolfed out as well as human size, youâve got to admit theyâre getting it right -finallyâ
âTrikru is not-â
âYour last name, I know, but you donât have one, so suck it upâ Clarke interrupts, with that sweet, little flirty tone she used to mock her -and to calm the bad guys she dried to feed- âYouâre the one who rejected Woodsâ
âBecause thatâs just stupid-â before Clarke could jump with some retort again, she railed the conversation back âWhy is it necessary? To go to this party?â
âBecause!â Clarke rolled her eyes sighing, it had been an intense few months since they met, what started as just tense avoidance quickly turned into a series of unfortunate events that landed them on a weird abettor-ship. The vampire had to get used to sharing a city with a huge clan of werewolvesâ packs, all the while making sure they werenât sniffing around where they shouldnât, whatever thatâd be other super-natural creaturesâ business or outright hunter houses. She hadnât done the best job at it from afar, hence their fragile alliance.
âYou said you wanted in on the majority of non-humans around here, this is your way of minglingâ
âBut why a Halloween party?â
âBecause itâs fun! Because we hide every day, most have a lot more covering up to do than you and I. Halloween is the perfect opportunity to hide in plain sight, is the one occasion they get to be themselves around those they call friends without any judgmentâ
âDo you have friends?â Was the question in Lexaâs mind, but she kept it there, the line between professionalism and friendship or whatever with Clarke were blurry enough already. Sheâs made enough mistakes the past six months that led her down dangerous paths, she owed it to her clan to stay focused, to mend those mistakes, no matter how much she just wanted to get to know Clarke.
âYou sure itâs a good idea?â
âYes! For one youâll get to do something fun, and two, how else will you know whoâs pissed that you and your clan are here and who doesnât give a shit?â
âIsnât that the point of our agreement?â
âI agreed to help you, not do you bindingâ Clarke deadpanned âLook as far as Iâm aware there hasn't been a pack around for about fifty years, most witches I know donât care about you, but thereâs plenty of vampires around who love to feed into our animosity. This party is your chance to check the field, some ghouls hide perfectly and wonât care that you pissed off hunters, thereâs fairies though Iâm sure would love to help them, thereâs a variety of chimeras that-â
âOkay. I get it. Plenty of creature, perfect night, perfect chanceâ
âExactly. Efficiencyâ Clarke winked at her.
With a sigh Lexa stood up âFine, Iâll be here at sevenâ
âYou better be in a nice custom!â Clarke called after her âYou donât want people to think youâre a boring ass human!â Lexa rolled her eyes yet started to plan her outfit for the following night.
She showed up at seven sharp, in simple black jeans and a white shirt, cut and styled to look worn, her hair braided and held by a bandanna at the top of her head, her make-up was exaggerated, all meat to portray a pirate. She thought she complied to Clarkeâs petition, yet her hopes for a compliment fell when the Vampire opened the door.
âYou didnât come as a were?!â
âNo! I am one!â She huffed.
âThatâs the point!â Clarke chuckles turning around, in her plain fitting black dress, black high heels and⌠a cape. Because of course she was a vampire. âSuch a wasted opportunityâ she rolled her eyes, cheeky grin fangs out and all, clearly pleased with her own âcustomâ. Lexa felt a little silly, knowing she spent all day crafting hers.
âI mean donât get me wrong-â Clarke cut her train of thought, looking her up and down, still grinning, licking her left fang -it was always the left one, same side where that beauty mark sat atop her lip- not that Lexa paid attention or anything. âThis fit is⌠damn, hot as fuck, Trikru, you really leaned into itâ And okay, Lexa wasnât expecting that, so who could blame her if she blushed a little.
âWell, you⌠said to make it niceâ
âIt is nice⌠very niceâ Clarke nodded, looking her up and down again as she kept licking that damn fang, how was Lexa supposed to focus on the mission. And okay, it wasnât really a mission, but she was still supposed to focus on making connections not on⌠well. Clarke.
They left shortly after, and Lexa was informed on the way that this Halloween party was, actually, several parties. A few different parties they would go to through the night.
And so, they spend about an hour -and a half sometimes- at each party, Lexa meets all of Clarkeâs contacts -all witches- and learns to recognize the faces of few vampires who donât seem to like her. She asks how come they donât approach them and seem to back away from Clarke, but she deflects, says sheâs not sure and bets theyâre just smart enough to not mess with Lexa. But she knows it canât be just that, she doesnât push it though, just hopes Clarke will trust her enough one day to tell her, after all their relationship at the moment pretty much consisted of exchanging information.
By midnight Lexa had a pretty clear idea of how most creatures felt about her and her clan, she met a few chimeras that lived with packs and seemed to hope that theyâd protect them from the hunters, while lone ones kept their distance from her. Ghouls and fairies alike seem all over the place, some wanted to meet her, some seem scared of her, others just outright grossed by her presence. It gave her a good feeling of what she would be dealing with for the next few years of their stay.
So, with her mission accomplished, she finally listened to Clarke and agreed to have fun. With the elixirs provided by Clarkeâs witches friends, the pair was able to enjoy the nice numbing of their drinks -not that Clarke wasnât already a little drunk and high from the few humans she fed from.
Lexa learned over the course of the first two months after her arrival that Clarke had a method of feeding that didnât involve drinking them dry, and didnât even leave a mark. The watching had begun with Lexa following her after their first face-to-face encounter, feeling the need to check that Clarkeâs victims were in fact the predators she claimed them to be.
Thatâs how she found her flirting with people at bars and promising a good time, offering them a vape and saying it had weed to cover up the later dizziness, taking them a out to a more private corner and making out with them, Clarke would kiss their necks, nibbling and licking to activate the sedative from her saliva and then biting them to drink from them, they would think she was leaving a hickey when in reality she was only drinking a little of their blood -the equivalent of two exam doses, she would later learn- before licking the wound to heal it close. Sheâd take them back inside and leave after a while.
Lexa had memorized the pattern, Clarke would drink from four different people per night, and she would skip three nights if she drank someone dry. She wasnât sure if Clarke was aware of it, she had an idea that Clarke could scent her every time, but she had stopped following her after the first time they spoke. Falling to the conclusion -and promptly ignoring it- that her obsession with the habit had come from wanting to be a part of the rotation of⌠donors.
-It meant she didnât realize when the pattern changed, after the night she bled at Clarkeâs place, the vampire started to feed every night even if she dried someone, the number of doses per night increased and even some were taken during the day. Clarke didnât tell her, afraid to accept the reason of her newfound insatiable thirst-
And so, she found herself at the last party mildly drunk, doing everything in her power to keep Clarkeâs focus on her, because her inhibition was low and her instincts her directing her more than her conscious, and Clarke kept looking for humans to woo and drink from, not because she need it -or so Lexa thought- just because she wanted to, because she was having fun and she wasnât -technically- hurting anybody. And Lexa didnât really want to stop her, she just⌠wanted her to not kiss other people.
And Clarke kept telling her that she was no fun, that she should let loose and enjoy the night, and Lexa was really trying, but she didnât know how to without completely exposing herself. Because even her wolf wanted Clarke to bite her, her big bad alpha soul wanted to be bitten, and how was Lexa really supposed to deny that.
So, she showed her she could be fun, she drank and danced with Clarke, and she did her best at flirting, and she noticed when Clarke noticed. She noticed when Clarke stopped looking around for humans, she noticed her flirting turning up from her natural, and she noticed how she danced differently with her. She noticed the way she wouldnât stop licking her fangs and biting her lips.
She noticed she was breathing heavily âWhy are you breathing?â Lexa asked.
Clarke giggled, tilting her head to rest their foreheads together âWhat?â she sighed with a drunken laugh.
âYou donât need to breathâ Lexa hushed, giggling a little too as they stumbled more than danced âWhy are you doing it?â
âOh⌠well-â and again with the fang-licking, Lexa was sure that a few more time and she wouldnât be able to hold back the need to capture that tongue âThe feeding, yâknow how I get drunk because theyâre drunk?â she asks, motioning vaguely with her hands and chuckling when Lexa pulls her back to her after she stumbled back.
âIt happens because⌠I kinda⌠absorb a little of their life. Not like⌠take from⌠their time, just-â She tasked, and Lexa couldnât decide if she should fixate of her mouth or her eyes, bluer than sheâd ever seen them âlike the blood makes me⌠alive, for however long it takes my body to⌠fullyâŚâ another giggle, another misstep âabsorb itâ
âOh yeah?â Lexa nodded, unable to contain the smile on her face, she bumped her nose with Clarke âSounds funâ she hushes, because if they stop talking, she might end up kissing her.
And okay, it was what she wanted, but she knew it was a bad idea, and she didnât want to initiate it anyways.
âIt isâ Clarke nods, grinning widely âItâs why my eyes are lighter⌠or bluer⌠I guessâ
âReally?â Lexa leans back, wanting to get a better look, and Clarke unconsciously leans forward, almost chasing her.
âYepâ she sighs this time when their foreheads press together again, there a slumber looks in her eyes now âYou know how theyâre⌠black, before I feed?â Lexa only hums her agreement âThatâs the⌠monsterâ
âHey, no, donât call it that. Thatâs the hungerâ Lexa says, and sheâs had both arms around Clarkeâs waits this whole time, so she lifts one up to cares the side of her neck. âYouâre not -Weâre not monstersâ Clarke eyes her, not buying it.
And Lexa knows, she knows that this is not a worry Clarke carries every day, she knows the vampire is self-aware and has probably lived longer than Lexa is capable of wrapping her head around. She knows these are drunk insecurities that wonât be there in the morning- or in a few hours- but she needs to calm them, because she also knows that is a worry that comes from deep, deep down in her core.
âYou are cable of feeding without killing. And even if you had to kill to do it, you wouldnât be different than an animal. You wouldnât be different than a werewolf. Weâre not that much different than humansâ
Clarkeâs hands have moved from Lexaâs shoulder to her arms, up her neck and into her hair in a sequence since they started dancing. In the breath after Lexa finishes speaking, one hand moves back into her hair and the other stays holding her arm, a subtle tilt of her head itâs all thatâs needed for the lips to connect as she pulls Lexa closer in every way.
Lexaâs breath catches in her throat as her arms instinctively wrap around Clarke and she answers the kiss eagerly. Itâs slow for a second, they adjust to the press of Clarkeâs fangs in a tight press of lips. Then it intensifies, thereâs a brief separation before they both lean in again, stronger, deeper. They pull each other close and sigh into each otherâs mouth, Lexa gasps and Clarke smirks every time her fang nibs Lexaâs tongue or lips, and they absently move out of the makeshift dance floor.
They donât bump into anyone, their super senses kick in and helping them navigate the crowded room without even looking. Clarke sucks on Lexaâs lower lip with a softness that makes Lexa forget thereâs sharp fangs behind those lips. She licks into Clarkeâs mouth anyways, learning each time where to go and how to enjoy it, Clarkeâs tongue guides her too, she absolutely enjoys that part the most.
Lexa is leaned against the hallway wall, the window beside them is open and the breeze is a nice contrast to the warm of their bodies pressed against each other, hands pulling and wandering as they exchange heated kisses.
Lexa gaps and turns her head away from the kiss suddenly, her reflexes kick in when Clarke leans for -a kiss to- her neck and her arm goes up to grab Clarke by the throat. She pauses, confused, still holding Lexa close, and then she hears it too, the faith distinguished howl of a wolf; Clarke can tell is a werewolf, Lexa understands the entire message.
âI need to goâ she says, still looking out, eyes red now, fangs out.
âDo you need help?â Clarke sobers up, she doesnât move though, neither of them do.
âNo. You shouldnât comeâ and finally Lexa pulls away, Clarke takes a step back with her and their arms drop when Lexa moves to go back into the main room âClarke. I mean it. Donât followâ she says, and she tries to ignore the looks on her face, tries not to read too much into the flash of darkening eyes, and leaves without looking back.
#Clextober#Clextober24#clextober 2024#clexa#fanfiction#fanfic#clexa fanfic#clexa fic#writing prompt#fic update
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@dreamsaremywords posted a dope prompt for a Clexa Mandalorian AU a while ago, and I own enough Star Wars RPG books for it to be embarrassing, so of course I had to write something. Please enjoy this meet-ugly between a moody bounty hunter and a reckless idiot. Title from a Perturbator-song that I was listening to on repeat when writing this.
She Moves Like a Knife
Stupid, stupid, stupid, Clarke thinks as she blinks furiously to clear the blood from her vision. Her helmet took the brunt of it, but thereâs definitely a cut on her forehead, sending rivulets of crimson streaming down and directly into her left eye.
She hadnât seen the shock baton coming before it literally hit her over the head, and though her armor ensured the electricity coursing through it wouldnât send her into a spasming pile on the ground, the impact still fucking hurt.
âFucking Cartel dicks,â Clarke mutters, readjusting the grip on her blaster. Sheâs a long way from Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa both, but the Hutt Cartelâs slimy tendrils are longer. And though she doesnât speak much Dosh, in-between the harsh hissing syllables from the Trandoshans, she hears the name âCholtaâ repeated a few times.
Sheâs not going to let these amateurs take her anywhere, and especially not to some Hutt Cartel Lord who decided to put a bounty on her for no other reason than, in Clarkeâs opinion, to be a real fucking asshole. Canât even let her subtly loiter at a cantina in peace.
Another volley of blaster fire chips away at the makeshift cover, and she knows the durasteel crate she threw herself behind after kicking her initial assailant in the face isnât gonna hold much longer. She chances a quick peek out of cover, managing to get eyes on all three of them. Theyâre all holed up behind the half-oval that makes up the cantinaâs bar, a far more fortified position than what Clarke is working with. But⌠These older cantinas have their quirks, and her helmetâs HUD is still doing its job despite the impact, indicating the small fuel tank hooked up to the drink dispensing system. Clarke grins, happy to have her hunch confirmed.
Thankfully, everyone else had fled once the shooting started, so thereâs no collateral other than structural to worry about.
Probably.
Itâs gonna take a couple of shots to break through the plating, and Clarke is once again immensely grateful she managed to ditch the E-11 and its shitty accuracy as soon as she hit Elrood. As a manufacturing planet, it had a thriving black market filled with various things that went âmissingâ from its gargantuan factories, and it hadnât been hard to talk her way in, though she had obviously opted to forego her armor for that particular excursion. The Rodian manufactured heavy carbine sheâd traded for had cost her both the E-11 and two thermal detonators, plus a couple of credits on top, but it was more than worth it for the upgraded precision, plus the extremely satisfying thump-noise it made when fired. Clarke has never been much for subtlety anyway.
To drive that point home, Clarke takes a deep breath, holds it, and pops out from behind her cover. Ignoring the shot that whizzes a little bit too close to her head, she follows the tracking on her HUD and finds the most vulnerable part of the tank easily. She exhales and pulls the trigger once, twice, keeping her wrists tense and elbows locked to manage the stronger recoil. Both shots are good, hitting in almost exactly the same place, and the three mercenaries have no time to react as the tank ignites and a fireball engulfs them.
The ensuing blast is probably the final nail in the coffin for the already beat-down cantina, and Clarke dives for a nearby window as the force of the explosion starts making the walls around her creak ominously. Thereâs screams from her would-be captors as theyâre caught in the flames, but Clarke spares them no sympathy as she tucks and rolls, kicking up sand as she leaps to her feet and starts sprinting.
The air is scorching hot at this time of day, with Elroodâs arid climate and two suns quickly making Clarkeâs armor feel like a sweltering cage, its bright white color not doing much to alleviate it. The commotion and ensuing explosion has drawn a crowd, even here in the slummier part of the planet. Clarke grits her teeth and pulls the long, raggedy cloak tighter around her, despite the heat.
Itâs really no place for a lone figure clad in Stormtrooper armor to be seen.
She knows she needs to find her way off-planet soon, because even though Elrood isnât under Imperial control, sheâs seen a few of their ships coming and going from the modest spaceport lately, and though itâs unlikely that theyâre here specifically for her, itâs still getting a little too concerning to ignore.
She makes it back to the little abandoned hovel sheâd found on the outskirts of the slums, and as soon as she slams the door behind her, she wrenches the helmet from her head, wincing a little bit as the coagulated blood makes it stick to her skin for a moment.
âEugh,â she grimaces as she sees the mess inside the helmet. Sheâs gonna need to clean that out somehow. Not to mention she has to take care of the cut on her forehead. She heaves a sigh and drags her feet through the little two-room building, throwing the helmet and her carbine onto the bed as she passes it.
Despite its state of disrepair, the house is very much livable. It stands in the middle of a little cluster of three other houses of similar shape and size, and Clarkeâs assumption is that it housed factory workers, once upon a time, based on the logo still emblazoned on the doors. When sheâd tried to look up the name of the company, however, sheâd found nothing. Most likely, the company had been bankrupted, and its houses left behind. The other three houses were stripped bare, and itâs anyoneâs guess why one of them still held its furniture, but Clarke isnât complaining. The bed, though obviously cheap, is miles better than anything sheâs ever slept on. Certainly much better than the shitty beds back at the Imperial barracks. Thereâs even a little table, and a chair, and a washroom with a sink, hooked up to a water tank outside. It had been dry when Clarke first got there, but figuring out how it worked hadnât been hard, and sheâd bartered two barrels of water from the nearby cantina to fill it up.
Unfortunately, that cantina is the same one she blew up today.
âNothing good lasts foreverâŚâ Clarke mutters to herself in the cloudy mirror. She turns the sink on and leans down, cupping her hands under the faucet to gather water before splashing it against her face to get rid of the blood. She does this twice and tries to move quickly; she canât afford to waste water now that she doesnât know when sheâll get more, andâ
Something cold presses against the back of her neck. Clarkeâs hands immediately shoot out to the sides and stay there.
âUp. Slowly,â a voice says, distorted as if filtering through the voice-box on a helmet much like her own. Clarke curses inwardly, realizing this is it, theyâve found her. âKeep your arms just like that.â
As the voice commands, Clarke slowly comes back up, straightening at the waist first, then her neck. She mournfully glances down at the water thatâs disappearing into the sink from the still open faucet, then looks up into the mirror.
And realizes that the person who has the muzzle of a blaster pressed against her neck isnât who she thinks at all; because itâs not the Imperials come to haul her ass back to the nearest base to beat the shit out of her and put her right back into a squadron.
Itâs worse.
âMandalorian,â she hisses, lips pulling back into a snarl as she sees the all-too recognizable helmet shape, and the silver gleam of beskar plating.
The helmeted head tilts, and Clarke swears she can read amusement despite the lack of facial features. âStormtrooper,â the voice retorts calmly.
âIâm not a fucking Stormtrooper,â Clarke bites out.
âThatâs funny.â The hand not holding the blaster raises and a padded knuckle raps against her shoulder guard once, mockingly. âBecause I think you might be.â
Clarke tips her chin up and stares down her foe, hoping her glare is hitting wherever the eyes might be. âI found this. Took it off some idiot I killed.â
âBeing an idiot must be contagious, then, because only an idiot would voluntarily run around in that if they are, indeed, not a fucking Stormtrooper.â
Clarke opens her mouth, but whatever sheâs about to say is drowned out by a rapid burst of blaster fire, and both of them immediately whirl away from each other, pressing flat against the wall by the door, each on either side of the opening.
âOh come on!â Clarke shouts as she spots the very thing she was expecting when she was first accosted in her bathroom; that all to familiar white armor, as well as a gray uniform.
âOf course you have backup,â the Mandalorian grumbles, stowing the sidearm blaster and trading it for a much more formidable rifle hanging from their back, something surprisingly sleek though altogether vicious looking.Â
âSurround the house! Weâve found the deserter!â
Clarke canât help but feel a surge of vindication as the Mandalorianâs helmet snaps to look at her, and she grins, despite herself. âFucking told you.â
âGreat. Just an idiot.â
Deciding that doesnât really qualify for a response, Clarke sets her eyes on the carbine still leaning against her bed. âCover me,â she says, and absolutely does not wait for any kind of confirmation before she dives through the doorway, towards the bed and her carbine.Â
Perhaps unsurprisingly, no covering fire is provided, though Clarke manages to snatch the carbine from the bed and drop into a low crouch behind the bed frame in spite of the uselessness of her new not-quite companion.Â
Undeterred, Clarke blindly fires a few shots over her shoulder, ignoring the painful jolt of the carbineâs kickback from firing one-handed as she glares back at the faceless figure. "Some help you are! I thought Mandalorians were good at fighting!" Clarke complains, and squeezes the trigger a few more times for good measure. A yelp of pain tells her she might have gotten in a lucky hit, and there's more shouting from outside as the sound of the small unit regrouping can be heard. It buys her enough time to scramble back to her original position, next to the Mandalorian that seems perfectly content to let Clarke do all the hard work around here.
Fuck, and the fucking sink is still running.
Having grown up around faceless comrades, heads encased in white plastoid for the majority of their time spent together, Clarke is plenty used to relying on body language to discern emotion. Which is why it's so frustrating that she can't quite seem to get a read on this person, no, this woman, Clarke is pretty sure. Normally, she's not so bothered by not being able to see someone's eyes, hell, she prefers it most of the time. But now, she is irked by the fact that she has no idea where this annoyingly cocky bounty hunter is looking.
"And why would I help you, exactly?" The Mandalorian drawls. "You're clearly more trouble than you're worth."
Clarke grits her teeth at the unexpected ice-cold rush that courses through her chest and down into her stomach at the words. It's certainly not the first time she's heard almost this exact phrase, and while there's absolutely no reason it should hit her so hard, coming from a perfect stranger that had a blaster to her head a few minutes ago and knows absolutely nothing about her, it triggers painful memories, starkly reminding her of just why she's even on the run in the first place. All the things she's done that still weren't enough.
She fights down the unease and fixes the Mandalorian with an unimpressed look. "That officer out there has already reported back that a Mandalorian has been seen with me. Even if you leave me to get captured, you'll be a loose end, and the Empire does not leave loose ends. They'll start flagging ships in the spaceport looking for yours, and haul you in without a second thought. You're not getting off this planet now."
There is a subtle flex in the gloved hands where they wrap around the blaster rifle. The tiniest crack in the wall. Clarke is almost certain that they are now staring each other down, heedless of the smattering of blaster fire and shouting from outside.
"This isn't making me less tempted to shoot you," the Mandalorian says finally, and Clarke tips her chin up defiantly, feeling victory within her grasp.
"That'd make you the idiot then, because you need me. If you want to get past their sensors, you need someone who knows how to fool them. I do."
There's a beat of silence. Then two. Then, without any warning, the Mandalorian surges out of cover and has kicked open the front door and is in the middle of the fray faster than Clarke can blink. Clarke watches, jaw slack, as she moves forward, completely ignoring the hail of blaster fire that goes completely wide. With a powerful roll of one shoulder, the carbine in her hands is hefted and then three precise shots ring out, ventilating three Stormtrooper helmets in short order.
Without a second's hesitation, the Mandalorian strides towards the last man standing; the officer who is now fumbling for the small blaster sidearm he has forgone from drawing in favor of yelling orders instead. He stumbles backwards just as the Mandalorian raises her arm, and two wires shoot out from the grappling device strapped to her wrist.
With a sharp yank of her arm and a show of strength that Clarke was wholly unprepared for, the officer is pulled through the air and collides with an awaiting fist. The crack of a beskar reinforced gauntlet against his jaw echoes off the walls, and he slumps like a bag of space debris.
A high-pitched whistling noise, the wires retract back into the wrist grapple, and the helmeted head turns to look directly at Clarke as the carbine is smoothly exchanged for the sidearm again, and Clarke feels the eyes on her as two shots are fired directly into the unconscious officer's chest.
There is absolute silence for several moments as they stare at each other. Clarke has no idea what the face underneath that helmet is doing, and she honestly isnât sure what expression her own face is wearing at the moment. Thereâs a non-zero chance itâs some form of wide-eyed awe.
Still. They canât stand here staring at each other.
âWhereâs your ship?â Clarke asks, with more courage than sheâs feeling.
Heaving a full-body sigh, the Mandalorian steps over the dead officer. âCâmon. But if you bleed all over my seats weâre gonna have a problem.â
#clexa#clexa fanfic#thanks again for letting me yoink this prompt!#also does it count as a clexa fic if i legit never mention lexa's name even once?#it's her under the helmet i swear#they're gonna tell each other their names at some point for sure
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for the reverse trope writing: divorce of convenience (something new or an au of your choice, both sound fun!)
Her eyes watch as the ink bleeds slowly into the paper. They watch neat, slanted script combine in the fragmented loops and dashes that make up that achingly familiar signature. X marks the spot. On the dotted line. Not a single scribble out of place; right where the lawyer had highlighted it in garish neon yellow.
Forever and ever.
They were eleven, and it's promising to always be best friends. The kind that stick together through thick and thin. Like white on rice, as their teacher often said.Â
Forever and ever.
They were fifteen, and it's smiling with the awkwardness of young love. The kind that sets fire to racing hearts from a first kiss stolen behind their school's abandoned gymnasium.Â
Forever and ever.
They were seventeen, and it's shaking hands that still can't believe they get to touch their best friends that way. The kind of way that makes them both let out hungry sounds and pretty moans in the backseat of her dad's station wagon.
Forever and ever.
They were nineteen, and it's stiff-jawed goodbyes through desperate kisses. The kind rotten with promises that this isn't the end. That it's just a âsee you laterâ, but never goodbye. Not for them.
Forever and ever.
They were twenty-eight, and it's handwritten vows and white satin gowns with matching bridal bouquets. The kind that they picked out together to remind them that all this was worth it, that it's finally the day they'd been planning for since their junior year in college. The culmination of sleepless nights and teary phone calls from three states away.
Forever and ever.
They were thirty, and it's whispering in the nursery of their freshly furnished house, standing wrapped in each other's arms at the edge of an adorably small bassinet. The kind decked out in purple frills with sunshine yellow along the trim, because they'd agreed from the first plus sign to not know the sex. It's fingers running through brown curls carefully enough not to wake their baby up, while watching lashes twitch in dreaming that hide those baby blue eyes. The exact shape and shade that'd had them both wrapped around a tiny pinky from the start.Â
Forever and ever.
They are fifty-four, and it's an empty nest that's too quiet in the house that sometimes feels too big. The kind they'd joked about missing for years, but now that it's here, they don't entirely know what to do with it.Â
It's medical bills, and denied claims for benefits, and meetings with stuffy lawyers who explain the finer points of income brackets. It's physical therapy visits and losing her job at the hospital and endless prescriptions that never seem to be covered by their insurance. It's everything, and all the time, because life refuses to slow down for even one damn second, despite a hip that simply will not work anymore.Â
They are fifty-four, and Clarke never thought she'd be here. That they'd make this kind of choice. Never thought she'd feel quite this stuck. Quite this useless. Never thought she'd be in this situation at all.
But it's clean and it's neat, just the way they like it. A mutual agreement for them both. A fresh start after the accident, one that'll let them move on with their lives, instead of trying to hang on to this thing that only leaves them drowning.Â
At least that's what they'd agreed.Â
She watches her wifeâ her ex-wife, dot the i's of her name with an overly dramatic flourish. Watches her click the pen with her thumb and toss it aside with a sigh from deep in her bones.
She smiles and feels her chest squeeze with that familiar pang of deep friendship and love.
âCheers,â Clarke says, holding up her flute of champagne.Â
She'd had to hobble through four different specialty liquor stores just to find it, but it'd felt fitting to toast the signing of their divorce papers with the same bubbly they'd shared on their wedding day.
Lexa picks up her glass and clinks it soundly against hers, only managing the barest sip around a smile of her own. âCheers, single lady.â
âMm. This is good.â
âEven better than I remember from the first time,â Lexa agrees as her gaze makes a lazy rake over Clarke's body.
It's not lost on Clarke how ridiculous it is to be blushing over the signed stack of her divorce papers, but something about the way Lexa looks at her has always set her on fire.Â
âSo,â she tries, casually, setting aside her cane and leaning heavier against the kitchen table, âwhat are you going to do next?â
Lexa takes another sip of her champagne, watching her closely over the rim. She swallows with a flex of that elegant throat and shuffles closer, sets her glass down on Clarke's other side, effectively boxing her in.Â
âGo to Disneyland.â
The sound of Clarke's snort rings through the kitchen. âSmartass.â
âWhat about you?â Lexa asks with a bite to her lips, hands still bracketing the sides of Clarke's waist and eyes twinkling with mischief. âAny big plans for the future, newly divorced Ms. Griffin?â
Clarke scoffs. âNice try. But it's still âMs. Griffin-Woodsâ to you.â
âOh? Is that right?â
âUhuh,â Clarke nods and loops her arms around Lexa's shoulders. âSorry not sorry, but I'm never giving that one back.â
Lexa hums and presses closer. Paints her body to Clarke's curves and breathes her in the same way she has for forty years.Â
âGreedy, but I think I can live with that.â
âSuch a hardship. I seem to remember you loving that about me.â
âAmong so many things.â
Clarke moans when Lexa's lips find the hollow dip of her neck, relaxing into the wet warmth of a plump, suckling kiss. Champagne has always made Lexa brazenly affectionate. She tips head back to grant more room and sucks in a gasp at the nibble of teeth. Tangles her fingers in greying, brunette hair that only serves to make her bombshell of a wife look that much more distinguished.Â
Well. Her ex-wife, that isâŚ
Hands trail down Clarke's hips and wrap tight around her thighs and before she can yelp a single word she's lifted onto the table.Â
Lexa lets out a half-laughed grunt when she gets Clarke settled in place, looking equally as amused as she does grateful that the little maneuver actually still worked after so many years.
âYou good, baby?â Clarke chuckles along with her, mindlessly going to rub the shoulder that had started being a pain around birthday forty-seven. âDidn't pop anything, did you?â
âNo, I'm good, I'm good,â Lexa says, smiling and shaking off her ill-coordinated prowess like the champ that she is. âThat just used to be easier.â
âIs that a crack about my weight?â
âMore like a crack about me being old.â
âOh. Well then yeah.â
âRude,â Lexa gasps, taking the hips in her hands and pulling them closer. Pressing Clarke firmly against her stomach. âThere's still giddy up in this old girl, I'll have you know.â
âYeah?â
âMhm.â
âMy, my, Ms. Woodsââ
âGriffin-Woods,â Lexa's quick to correct. Suddenly serious in how intensely she stares Clarke in the eyes. âYou're not getting that back either.â
They share a look because things like this have never required words. Not for them. But with everything and all of it, with the ink still drying on the paper beside them, Clarke gives in to her last bit of worry.Â
âYou're still my girl,â she whispers. Swallows. Feels a stinging prickle along her eyes at the sudden need to feel this connection with her favorite person in the world. âEven with me, and having to do all this⌠You know we're still us, right? You're still my girl?â
Clarke melts into the kiss she knows is coming because she knows this woman better than anybody, and it feels more like a promise that nothing could ever break them than any piece of paper ever could. She wraps her good leg around Lexa's hip and deepens it, kisses back with every ounce of love her heart has to offer. Cherishes each massage of tongue and slide of lips that have met thousands of times before.Â
Lexa kisses her once, twice more, and pulls back with a soothing smile.
âAlways, love⌠Forever and ever.â
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how do you expect me to sleep next to you at night knowing what you did? for the dialogue prompts please!
this maaaaaaaaay have taken me a little longer than expected to get to.
................................................................................
Lexa had just been falling asleep, finally. She was having one of those nights where she was dog tired but also wired, sleep an elusive and abstract concept she could feel like a fuzzy presence a the edge of her consciousness. Sheâd finally nuzzled into her pillow at just the right angle and pulled the sheets up to her chin with her leg sticking out and hooked over the top of the duvet to stay a comfortable temperature and she could nearly taste the sweet sweet relief of sleep. Â
So when Clarke hmphed and turned over dramatically beside her, shaking the entire bed and yanking far more than 50% of the covers over to her side, Lexaâs eyes snapped open. And twitched.Â
She took a deep breath - she was tired and didnât want to snap at her girlfriend but at the same time, what the fuck? âClarke?â Silence. Another deep breath and Lexa rolled over, blinking in surprise when she found Clarke only a few inches from her face. It was dark but Lexa could make out a grumpy pout, furrowed brows and lips set in a frown. âBabe, what are you doing?â
There was a brief silence that made Lexa think she might have to put in some more effort to draw whatever it was out of Clarke - although she already had an inkling what this was about.Â
âHow do you expect me to sleep next to you at night, knowing what you did?â
Yep, Clarke was still on about that. Apparently sleep depravation was Lexaâs penance.
âClarke, it was a long time ago. Before I even met you! Or knew you existed.â She reached out and ran the back of her knuckles lovingly across Clarkeâs cheek, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.Â
Clarke turned her head away indignantly, turning onto her back to cross her arms over her chest and stare at the ceiling. âDid you touch Costia - Professor Costia - like that?â
Clarke and Lexa had signed up for pottery classes together at the local community college, and tonight had been their first session. Turns out their instructor was someone Lexa had had a brief fling with years and years ago, Costia. Not wanting to seem shady or potentially put Clarke in an awkward situation, Lexa had told her about it casually after class. She and Clarke were both adults and while neither of them loved hearing about the otherâs past sexual or romantic encounters, they acknowledged and respected that theyâd both had lives before meeting each other.
That didnât stop Clarke from sometimes feigning betrayal in a dramatic way when she felt jealous. Tonight it was just unfortunately was occurring when Lexa desperately wanted to sleep. âItâs just Costia, Clarke, she isnât a professor,â Lexa laughed. âBut of course not,â Lexa answered. âIt wasnât like that at all. It was more -âÂ
âLa la la la la!â Clarke exclaimed, sticking her fingers in her ears. âI changed my mind. I donât want to know anything else.â
Lexa bit back an endeared, amused grin. âOkay. Youâre the only one for me, Clarke. My whole heart. Can we please go to sleep now?â
A few seconds passed without response. Then Clarke turned over abruptly again, towards Lexa, and slotted their legs together as she slung an arm over her waist. Lexa heard her breathing even out and deepen within seconds and rolled her eyes affectionately.Â
She fell asleep shortly after, finding it much easier to do so with Clarke tucked up in her arms.Â
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#135 for the smut prompt đ
135 - âIâll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.â
Lexa was sitting at her desk, her fingers idly tracing the edge of a legal pad while she stared out the window of her office. Her phone buzzed on the desk, and she glanced at the screen. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw Clarkeâs name.Â
She picked up the call, her voice softening as she answered, âHey, Clarke.âÂ
âHey yourself,â Clarkeâs voice came through, a playful lilt to it. Lexa could almost picture the smirk on her face. âBusy day at the office, Counselor?âÂ
Lexa chuckled, leaning back in her chair. âAlways. But I can spare a few minutes for you.âÂ
âMmm, just a few minutes?â Clarke teased. âThat doesnât sound like nearly enough time.âÂ
âI think youâll find I can be very efficient when I need to be,â Lexa shot back, her tone low and suggestive.Â
There was a pause on the other end, and Lexa could hear the faint rustling of sheets. Clarke must have been lounging in bed, and the thought of her there, relaxed and likely wearing nothing but a grin, made Lexaâs pulse quicken.Â
âMaybe,â Clarke replied, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. âBut I prefer when you take your time.âÂ
Lexa bit her lip, trying to keep her composure. âIs that right? You know Iâm not one to rush things.âÂ
âI remember,â Clarke purred. âYou always know how to make things last⌠how to build up to that perfect moment.âÂ
Lexaâs breath hitched at the memory Clarkeâs words invoked. âAnd you⌠always know how to push me right to the edge,â she murmured.Â
Clarkeâs laughter was soft, almost a hum. âI do enjoy seeing just how far I can push you.âÂ
Lexa could hear the challenge in her voice, and it sent a shiver down her spine. âYouâre dangerous, Clarke Griffin.âÂ
âOnly for you,â Clarke whispered back, her tone taking on a more serious edge. There was a beat of silence before she added, âIâll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.âÂ
The confession hung in the air, heavy and charged. Lexaâs heart skipped a beat, her breath catching in her throat. She swallowed, trying to find the right words, but all she could manage was a soft, âClarkeâŚâÂ
âYeah?â Clarkeâs voice was gentle now, the teasing edge gone.Â
Lexa shifted in her chair, the playful smile still on her lips as the conversation settled into a comfortable rhythm. After a brief lull, Lexaâs curiosity got the better of her.Â
âSo, what are you up to right now?â Lexa asked, her tone light but tinged with a hint of anticipation.Â
There was a pause on the other end, and then Clarkeâs voice came through, lower and sultry. âI might be⌠stroking my cock.âÂ
Lexaâs breath caught in her throat, her grip on the phone tightening. Her voice dropped, the playful edge replaced with something deeper, more primal. âReally now?âÂ
âMm-hmm,â Clarke hummed, the sound vibrating through the phone. âBeen thinking about you all day, Lexa. Figured Iâd do something about it.âÂ
Lexa could practically hear the smirk in Clarkeâs voice, and the mental image of Clarke lying there, touching herself, sent a surge of heat through her body. She struggled to keep her voice steady. âAnd howâs that going for you?âÂ
Clarkeâs breath hitched, and there was a faint, barely audible sound that made Lexaâs pulse quicken. âGood⌠but itâd be better if you were here.âÂ
Lexa closed her eyes, letting the image of Clarkeâs hand moving over her length fill her mind. âTell me what youâre doing,â she commanded softly, her voice husky.Â
Clarke didnât hesitate. âIâm gripping myself, just the way I like it⌠thinking about how good it feels when you touch me. How your hand feels wrapped around me, so tight, so perfect.âÂ
Lexaâs breath came faster, her body reacting to Clarkeâs words. âKeep going,â she urged, her voice barely above a whisper.Â
Clarkeâs breathing grew heavier, and Lexa could hear the faint sounds of her hand moving, the wet slide of her stroking herself. âIâm thinking about your mouth, Lexa⌠how you tease me with your tongue. How you always know exactly what I need.âÂ
Lexa bit her lip, her own arousal spiking as she listened. âYou like that, donât you? The way I make you come undone?âÂ
âSo much,â Clarke moaned, her voice thick with desire. âIâm so close, Lexa. I wish you were here to see what you do to me.âÂ
Lexaâs heart raced, her voice dropping to a throaty whisper. âI want to hear you when you come, Clarke. Let me hear you.âÂ
Clarkeâs breathing quickened, the sounds growing more urgent, more desperate. âIâm right there, Lexa⌠fuck, Iâm right there.âÂ
Lexaâs voice was a low growl now, filled with need. âCome for me, Clarke. Let me hear how good it feels.âÂ
Clarkeâs breath caught, and a deep, throaty moan filled the line as she tumbled over the edge. Lexa could hear every gasp, every shuddering breath as Clarke rode out her climax, her name falling from Clarkeâs lips like a prayer.Â
Lexaâs own body thrummed with the intensity of the moment, her pulse pounding in her ears. She listened as Clarkeâs breathing slowly returned to normal, a satisfied sigh escaping her.Â
âGod, Lexa,â Clarke finally said, her voice soft and sated. âYou always know how to get me there.âÂ
Lexa smiled, her own desire still simmering just beneath the surface. âIâm glad I could help,â she murmured, her tone filled with warmth and just a hint of mischief. âThough next time, Iâd prefer to be there in person.âÂ
Clarke chuckled, the sound filled with promise. âNext time, you will be.âÂ
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nfwmb (fuel the pyre)
Years running an (alleged) hitman organization, Clarke has had plenty of instances with the law to last her a lifetime. What she hasnât tired of yet, though, is seeing Lexa on top of the world, defending her in court and under her, everywhere else.
#lawyer x criminal au#clexa#smut fic#tbh#idk shit about the law lol#probably just gonna do some prompts here and there with them#already have some in mind though đđ#cough cough cough#handcuffs blades (đ) and blindfolds#who said that#g!p clarke griffin#idk if the clarke pics necessarily give (basically) mob boss vibes but we live
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#6 for kissing prompt using any clexa you want đ
Youâre now entering an unknown Clexa AU set some time during college.
Maybe itâll develop into something? Send me your thoughts and questions.
-
The bass is pounding so hard that Clarke can see the sound waves in her cup of lukewarm beer. Her mind wanders to Jurassic Park and she wonders if she wouldnât enjoy being hunted by a T-Rex more than being at this party.
Beside her, Finn Collins is apologizing profusely.
Again.
She knows he is speaking, but sheâs not listening. She honestly doesnât really care that he missed the opening of the art show. It wasnât like sheâd sent him an invitation. It was a small college-wide display that would be going on for weeks.
She sees a hand come in to her line of sight. When her eyes focus, she sees fingers snapping in front of her face. âYo, Earth to Clarke.â Finn has successfully grabbed her attention, and her murderous gaze.
âDid you seriously just snap at me?â She furrows her eyebrows.
He doesnât even flinch at her tone.
âYeah I was seeing if I couldnât make it up to you.â He shoots her what sheâs sure is supposed to be a cute crooked smile. It really just makes her want to rearrange his face.
She sighs, trying to make it clear that sheâs not interested, without having to actually say it. âFinn, look. Iâm not sure whatââ
He cuts her off with a hand on her forearm. âI know youâre upset, princess. But it wonât happen again. I promise.â
âWhat wonât?â Clarke shrugs her arm away from his touch just as his eyes wander to something behind her.
âOh hey, Lexa. Can you give us a minute?â Finn asks.
Clarke doesnât hear a response. Instead, she feels herself being turned around with a gentle grasp to her shoulder. Itâs like sheâs moving in slow-motion.
Clarkeâs eyes briefly land on the determined face of one Lexa Woods before sheâs suddenly too close to focus on.
Two soft palms cup Clarkeâs jaw as slender fingers grasp around the back of her neck.
Then Lexaâs lips are on hers.
Itâs so unexpected that Clarke hadnât had a moment to ready herself. Lexa comes in too quickly, damn near chipping Clarkeâs tooth.
Clarke canât find it in herself to mind. Instead, she sinks in to the feeling of Lexaâs hands cradling her face.
Clarke wraps her hands around Lexaâs waist to pull her in tighter, just as she starts to feel Lexa pulling away.
Clarke can hear Finn muttering curse words under his breath as he wanders off.
âJesus, Lex. What was that?!â Clarke all but squeaks. Now looking Lexa directly in the eyes.
Panic is the only word that could possibly describe the look on Lexaâs face.
âShit. I just saw him over here bothering you again and I thoughtâ I donât know what I thought. I didnât think.â Lexaâs rambling and Clarke canât help but find it endearing. Leave it to Lexa to step in and save Clarke from unwanted advances. Sheâs just never been quite so bold about it.
âLex.â Clarke tries to get her attention to calm her down.
âThat was bad, wasnât it?â Lexa winces.
âAbsolutely terrible.â Clarke teases back with a grin. âYou should do it again.â
#clexa#clexa au#this could be another fun AU but I donât have any solid plans on making it into anything#butttttt you never know#a little Lexa saving Clarke from unwanted advances AU#the other kiss prompt
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Prompt idea! The first 300 words of an AU you've never written for before đ
Lexaâs left eye twitches irritability as she once again feels fat water droplets spray against her feet, interrupting the entirely pleasant nap sheâd been having, where she and Ali Krieger had been having a tasteful yet romantic dinner somewhere in the French countryside. Sitting up and shoving her large sunglasses off her eyes with one annoyed swoop, she blinks against the suddenly bright rays of sun that crowd her vision.
It was the perfect pool day at  Polisâs community pool- bright, cerulean sky, a soft, warm breeze, and the temperatures teetering just under 90 degrees. Lexa had seized the chance to sunbathe and read for a few hours on her day off work, shut off her pager, and practically skipped down the street to get settled on a lounger, ready to sip ice water and read sapphic smut until her eyes crossed, all while solidifying her tan in the teeniest bikini she owned.
However, for the past thirty minutes, some little snotty-nosed kid (probably un-supervised and just itching to cause mischief), had been sporadically sending showers of water arching through the air to mist Lexa as she sat innocently in her perfectly positioned chair, placed specifically to get the maximum amount of afternoon sunshine possible. Itâs not that Lexa didnât like kids- she adored Raven and Anyaâs adopted son, Aden, with every fiber of her being. However, random children in the general public? Lexa generally avoided them, finding them sticky, whiny, and rude.
Another scattered shower of chlorinated water doused her feet as she felt her patience waning rapidly. Standing up, she felt her eyebrows slide into a glower as she searched for the culprit. Seeing a dark-haired little girl pop up like a seal from the bottom of the pool, a bright smile stretching across her face as she triumphantly popped up, water frisbee in hand, Lexa leveled a finger at the kid, whose smile quickly vanished as she took in Lexa, towering over her on the pool deck, clad in a black swimsuit.
âItâs rude to splash strangers, you know-â Lexa had begun to grumble indignantly to the little kid, eyes searching for the parent of this clear mischief maker, when the most beautiful woman Lexa had even laid eyes upon swam up beside the little girl, hosting her onto her hip and lovingly smoothing the wet hair out of her eyes before leveling a glare packed with the heat of a thousand suns onto a suddenly stunned Lexa-
âYou scold my kid again, youâre going to get a lot more than a little bit of pool water on you, lady.â
#clarke as a momma#teeny madi my sweet angel#pool au#clexa#this ask has been lingering in my inbox for TWO YEARS#op I am so so sorry#just know if you've sent me a good prompt in the last two years i am stock piling them like a little squirrel preparing for winter
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So I was at this womenâs basketball gameâit being March Madness and allâand this player that I find really really cute (she actually kinda looks like Lexa), wasnât warming up. When the game started she went through the tunnel and back into the locker room which is kinda weird because even if youâre injured normally you still sit on the bench. But at halftime she came out and I noticed she had earplugs in and after a little Google I found out she has a concussion so she was probably in the locker room because it was too loud on the court. The rest of the game I was thinking about how someone could totally write a fanfic where Lexa is on a sports team, gets hurt, is sad she has to sit out, but has a little mid game locker room rendezvous to cheer her up and give her a thrill. Would you please please pleaseee be that someone?
(Ao3)
Lexaâs ears itched to remove her headphones, but the shadow of a headache had started behind her eyes, so she let the noise canceling headphones do its magic. She walked behind the starting team and watched with a frown the pile of windbreakers grow at her feet on the bench while she remained covered. She fiddled with the dark red zipper, the squeaking of rubber against shiny vinyl grounding her while the visiting team entered the arena. Lexa looked away, her eyes darting at the faceless crowd of silver and maroon. The muffled noise of the fans, something she looked forward to at each game, mounted on the pain growing between her eyes. The blinking lights of the stadium did not help with the building dizziness, but she forced a smile as she waved back at a bundle of little girls with signs with her name shining in bright silver glitter.
Lexa Woods.
She bit her lips at the thought of disappointing little girls.
On the other side of the court, the away team warmed up. Lexa looked for a familiar blonde braid, but they were in a huddle, and the amount of blonde heads was borderline offensive for basketball.
âOi!â A ball came in her direction and Lexa held the pass in pure reflex, but that didnât stop her frowning at Anya. âYou look miserable. Smile for the cameras. Itâs the fucking final fours, Lex.â
Their team captainâs shouted words were not as encouraging as Anya thought, and Lexa threw the ball back on the court.
âIâll be out of here in a minute,â Lexa said and pointed to her headphones. âThese are not working as expected.â
A rare sight of kindness flashed over Anyaâs face, but it was gone just as fast. She sat next to Lexa, her mouth close to Lexaâs covered ears. âWeâre here because of you. No one doubts that. Weâll win this so you can crush it at the final.â
Lexa bit her lip. They needed to win, and her concussion needed to be fully recovered for that to happen, and none of that was a guarantee. She nodded, and the movement didnât help with her growing headache.
âIâm going back in,â she excused herself, standing up. Anyaâs face softened, nodding.
âYour head okay?â Anya asked at the same time a wave of nausea hit Lexa.
Lexa moved her palm in a so-so pattern, and before their couch yelled at her, she backtracked her steps into their home locker room. She didnât look up at the calls for her name while ducking into the tunnel, focused on escaping the noise.
The locker room was messy, with open bags and unfolded clothes littering the floor. The smell of bleach and foot powder was familiar, with a hint of synthetic eucalyptus from the shower row. Lexa finally took off the headphones, her ears popping in relief. Layers of concrete and tile protected her from the loud crowd, and Lexa closed her eyes.Â
She could have made history tonight. Instead, because of a single nasty call at her last game, she cannot even watch from the bench.
âFuck,â she mumbled, her lips trembling in frustration. She wanted to punch something.
âI know, right?â
Lexaâs neck turned at the voice, her vision blurring for a second as she focused.
She must be hallucinating, because in front of her was Clarke Griffin, point guard of the Arkadia Comets, and the usual pain in Lexaâs ass whenever they played. But why was she here and not on court? Her brain finally caught up with the full image and she noticed the clutches under Clarkeâs arms and how her left foot didnât touch the floor.
âI watched your last game.â Clarkeâs dimples showed at a half smile. âIâm surprised you made it to the game tonight,â Clarke said as she sat heavily next to Lexa with a long sigh and the clacks of her crutches against the wooden bench. Her hands immediately massaged her injured thigh.
âWhat are you doing here?â
âThere are stairs to the visitorsâ locker room, and I really needed to pee. Can you believe they built this building for like, healthy people? There are stairs everywhere.âÂ
âI meantâŚâ Lexa pointed at Clarkeâs whole deal, and differently from Lexa, the other player didnât wear a uniform or a windbreaker, just a hoodie with her universityâs colors.
âPulled muscle. Bad enough to knock me out. I didnât want the sponsors to see me with the crutches.â Clarke nodded in the direction of the plastic supports. Lexa noticed a bright blue athletic tape poking out from Clarkeâs joggers all the way to her lower abs visible under the hoodie. Her cheeks flushed, and when she looked up, Clarke smirked at her.
âHow did it happen?â Lexa cleared her throat, ignoring the way blue eyes went up and down her body.
âNot as hilariously as the block that took you down,â Clarke said with a shit-eating grin that Lexa wanted to wipe off.
âThat was a fault!â
âSure, babe.â Clarke adjusted in her seat, massaging her thigh again. âIâm sorry you canât play tonight. I was looking forward to destroying you.â
That made Lexa smile. âIn your dreams, Griffin.â
âOh, but my dreams about you are quite different, Lex.â
And there she was. Griffin always played the mind game to destabilize Lexa. Whispers on the court, faces from the bench; Lexa hated it. She also felt a little joy in it, but ultimately, Clarke Griffin was a distraction.
âIâm sorry youâre missing the game, too,â Lexa said, unsure if her face showed her reaction to Clarkeâs comment. By the way Clarke lounged on the bench and shifted closer, Lexa must have blushed.
âIt was a good run,â Clarke said.
âYou donât think you can win?âÂ
Clarke snorted. âDo you?â
âI trust my teammates,â Lexa said and crossed her arms. If Griffin didnât have any loyalty to her team, that was her problem.
âDonât get me wrong, darlingââ the thin hairs on Lexaâs neck bristled at the pet name â âI love those bitches. But I dragged a bunch of future dentists and teachers to two final fours. You have other girls making draft picks in your team while I average astonishing zero bench points every game.â
âBut youâll be the first draft pick.â The truth rolled out easily on Lexaâs tongue, and she suppressed the bite of jealousy at the thought.Â
âAnd youâll be second, unless they go insane.â
And here they were, top two draft picks dusting in the locker room while the semi-final roared above them.
Lexa shrugged, running a hand over her loose hair. Her usual braid or ponytail was a no-go with her headache, and her hair kept falling into her eyes. âIf I get top four, Iâll be happy.â
âYou will.â There was certainty in Clarkeâs voice. âWe are one of the lucky ones.â
âI know.â There was no hiding the struggle of womenâs basketball. Sure, the league had promise and potential, but it was a shadow of the sponsorship and compensation of the menâs league. With limited teams, getting a spot as a professional was already an achievement.
âSo, can you help me back to my locker room, princess?â Clarke asked, pointing to her crutches. Heat rose to Lexaâs cheeks, and she crossed her arms.
âWhy are you always like this?â
Clarke, halfway to standing, sat back down on the bench. âLike what?â
âWhy are you so, soâŚâ Lexa searched for a word, but unwelcomed suggestions jumped to the front of her mind like âhotâ and âsexyâ, and she ended up going with, âinfuriating! Why do you flirt with other players only to mess with their game?â
Clarke huffed, an unusual pink dusting her cheeks. âI donât flirt with other players.â
âYouâve been pretending to flirt with me in every game for a year!â Lexa didnât know she needed to vent about something tonight, but Clarke gave her the opening she needed.
âWait, wait,â Clarke said, raising her hands in surrender. âOne, I donât do that to other players. Two, I mostly do it with you because I know it wonât affect your game. I need to have something against your resolve, and flirting with a straight girl is harmless enough. Besides, youâre hot, Lex. Wow, why donât you react like this on the court?â
Lexaâs cheeks burned, and she rolled her eyes. Once she stepped on the court, nothing else mattered and Lexa would be hyper-focused on the game. But tonight, not being under the spotlight and off her game, Lexa was not immune to Griffinâs tongue. ComplimentsâGriffinâs compliments! She needed to change this line of thought.
âWhat on earth have I done for you to think Iâm straight?â Maybe that wasnât the correct shift in the conversation. Clarke lit up like a Christmas tree, her mouth opening for a second, then closing again, settling on a half smile.
âYou never reacted to me before.â Clarkeâs voice was a full octave lower, and Lexa might be in trouble. Lexa swallowed and fidgeted with her jacket zipper. âAnd maybe, yeah, Iâve been flirting with you not only because of the games,â Clarke confessed, the heat in her cheeks darkening.
Was Clarke flirting with her again?
âI was kind of hoping youâd be able to play tonight,â Clarke continued, âso I could watch you all night instead.â
Yes, that was flirting, Lexaâs concussed brain detected. She didnât move as Clarke shuffled closer, their thighs touching.
âI tried to find you early on, but all your teammates were wearing braids,â Lexa said. At 21, Lexa should have a better control of her mouth, but alas, there she was confessing her charms to her rival.
âThey wanted to show me support.â Clarkeâs voice was close, and closer still as she said, âSo you were looking for me?â But the expected grin or tease was not behind her words. Lexa gathered the rest of her courage and chanced a glance at the fellow point guard, finding nothing but⌠admiration?
Kiss her, Lexaâs obviously concussed brain offered, and Lexaâs heart race in adrenaline as she ignored the thought.
âYouâre the best player,â Lexa reasoned, swallowing as Clarke invaded her personal space. âOf course I look for you on the court.â
âWell,â Clarke said, and her hand, a tad larger than Lexaâs, reached for Lexaâs own. âI look for you outside of the court, too. I watched the video on your channel about your work against bullying in your townâs high school. That was inspiring.â
Lexaâs heart swelled with something akin to fondness, but she blamed that on the concussion. âThank you.â Lexa whispered, the moment asking for softness.
âYou, Lexa WoodsââClarkeâs large hand closed around Lexaâs, warm and steadyââYou are inspiring.â
It wasnât every day that the league MVP said she was inspiring.
Kiss, kiss, her brain supplied.
Lexa didnât have to wait for her body to listen to her brain. Clarke was MVP for many reasons, and not hesitating was one of them.
The kiss was soft and warm, and Clarkeâs hand tugged lightly at Lexaâs neck. For the first time that day, Lexa breathed easily. It lasted a moment, as Clarke showed to be dexterous with her tongue, and then Lexa was breathless.
âMy team will be here at half-time,â Lexa whispered when Clarke finally, reluctantly, pulled away.
âIs that your way of saying you donât want to kiss me again?â
Lexa wished she could say no to that smile, but she was learning that denying that smile was harder than to block Clarkeâs 3 pointers.
âIt means we canât do it here,â Lexa said.
âIâm staying in town for an orthopedic appointment tomorrow morning. You could always stop by my hotel later tonight.â Clarke reached for her clutches and stood.Â
âMy team will want me around after the game.â
Clarke smiled, one eyebrow raised. âWould you rather be in a noisy bar with your team celebrating, or watching the British Bake Off with me while making out on a king bed?â
Lexaâs cheeks warmed. âThe British Bake Off?â
Clarke made her way out of the locker room, slow and steady. âWe can watch it on mute, which helps with your headache, and watching it always makes me⌠hungry.â Clarke delivered the last word over her shoulders, licking her lips for extra dramatic effect. Lexa felt her face heating as Clarke limped out of the room.
Hours later, Lexaâs team had gained their place at the final. Her headache was under control, and her utmost satisfaction had nothing to do with the chocolate cake they ordered from the 24h hotel service.
#a couple weeks late but here it is#loved this prompt#drabble#drabbles#the 100#clexa#lexa the 100#clarke the 100#why not make out with chocolate cake watching the british bake off?#sounds reasonable#clarke is a cocky little shit because why not
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Clexa parents at parent teacher night
Or clexa at someone elseâs wedding
Or clexa in a gorcery store
Or dealing with a karen
So many choices!!
Clarke and Lexa had been dating for a few months now and they couldn't get enough of each other. They were living in the heart of the city, with busy schedules and demanding jobs. But they always made time for each other, and their favorite thing to do together was grocery shopping.
On this particular day, they were strolling through the aisles of their favorite supermarket, hand in hand.Â
As they walked past the produce section, Clarke picked up a ripe mango and held it up to Lexa's nose. "Smell this," she said, grinning. "It smells like sunshine."
Lexa took a deep breath and pretended to swoon. "Oh, I'm in love with you all over again," she said, winking.
Clarke giggled and put the mango in their cart. "Just wait until you taste it," she said, squeezing Lexa's hand.
âThatâs not really what I want to taste right now,â Lexa muttered, just loud enough for Clarke to hear. Lexa walked by Clarke and grabbed her ass, giving it a firm squeeze before walking past her.
They continued down the aisle, picking up items they needed for their dinner that night. As they reached the pasta section, Lexa grabbed a box of spaghetti and held it up to Clarke. "Hey, did you hear about the Italian chef who died? He pasta way," she said, trying to stifle a laugh.
Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes. "That was terrible," she said, but she couldn't help but smile.
Lexa grinned. "I know, but you love my cheesy jokes."
Clarke leaned in and kissed Lexa's cheek. "That's because I love you," she said, her voice soft.
Lexa's heart skipped a beat. "I love you too," she said, her eyes sparkling.
They continued down the aisles, teasing each other and making silly jokes. When they got to the ice cream section, Clarke reached for a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough and held it up. "This is my favorite flavor," she said, grinning.
Lexa smirked. "Oh really? I thought I was your favorite flavor," she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
Clarke blushed and playfully swatted Lexa's arm. "Stop it," she said, but she couldn't hide her smile.
As they approached the checkout line, Lexa picked up a tabloid magazine and held it up to Clarke's face. "Hey, look at this," she said, pointing to the cover. "It says here that we're secretly married."
Clarke laughed. "That's ridiculous," she said, shaking her head.
Lexa shrugged. "I don't know, maybe we should consider it. I hear married couples get discounts on groceries."
Clarke rolled her eyes and leaned in for a kiss. "You're such a dork.â
âYes, but Iâm your dork,â Lexa wrinkled her nose and gave Clarke a quick kiss, before turning to the employee to pay for their groceries.Â
âAlways,â Clarke whispered under her breath. Forever grateful for these moments with the love of her life.
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Hey guys
Lexa: Just try to be nice, Anya. Clarke's not like us...She has feelings.
Anya: Hmm, are you sure this is the person for you?
Lexa: That is exactly the type of thing I don't want you to say in front of her.
#the 100#clexa#clarke x lexa#lexa x clarke#clarke griffin#lexa kom trikru#anya kom trikru#elizabeth taylor#alycia debman carey#dichen lachman#incorrect clexa#incorrect the 100 quotes#incorrect quotes#chat#otp#otp prompts#source: tumblr#original: brooklyn nine nine
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Teaser
Second and original on the list of commemoratory posts for the anniversary of the 100 finale, a teaser of a very late future shot for Wanhedaâs dagger week. (born from a prompt sento to me along long time ago)
Highly recommend reading it as a movie trailer with âThis is how we doâ by Katty Perry playing on the background
âI just-â Lexa groaned  âI was-â
âThinking with you pussy, clearlyâ
âRaven!â
âHow could you be so stupid?! Okay. Whatever!â Raven rolls her eyes âNowâŚâ She leans forward conspiratorially with a smirk âDetails!â
She forgot anything she thought as an answer when she turned to look at the absolute goddess standing now next to her.
//
The Night Before
//
//
Raven took her shot clean before turning to the blonde âThank you for that. Iâm Raven, and this-â She grabbed Lexaâs arm and swiftly moved out of her stool and placed Lexa on it âIs my bff Lexa. Have fun!â she shouted before scurrying away.
//
Chasing her lips as they both smirked. âIâm Clarke. By the wayâ
//
âHere it goesâ Clarke lets out
âWhat does?â
//
âYou have no idea how hot your response wasâ Clarke whispers directly into her ear, theyâre engrossed in this push and pull of moving to initiate a kiss and withdrawing a second after, chasing and dodging a kiss that they both so desperately want but neither is willing to give into⌠yet.
//
There isnât any cathartic moment before they decide to leave, itâs really just them dancing and kissing one moment and the next Lexa is leading Clarke out of the dance floor to where she last saw Raven.
//
Even without music they slide right back into their chase, kissing shoulders and necks, sucking on earlobes and biting jaws.
//
When Lexa expected a quick foreplay before hurrying to bed, Clarke took her time kissing all over Lexaâs neck and shoulder, biting her earlobe collarbones and jaw, always going back to her lips for a heated kiss
//
âPut me downâ Lexa sighed into Clarkeâs mouth, needing to have a little control over the situation.
//
With one boob in her mouth and the other in her hand, Lexaâs free hand moved to single-handedly unbutton and unzip Clarkeâs trousers
âClarke, look at meâ she ordered
Raven whistles, cheering her on âThatâs what Iâm talking about! This is why weâre friendsâ
//
Present time
//
//
âOkay, whatâs next? Are we about to make me really fucking angry?â
Chuckling, Lexa bites her lip âAlmostâ she smirksâŚ
//
âHow though? For her to have f- Oh! ⌠Ohâ Raven smirks devilishly at her
//
âwell she reached outâŚâ she continued quickly âand I⌠well, I wasnât gonna complainâ she finally looked at her best friends smirking conspiratorially.
âNah-ah!â Raven shakes her head, giggling
//
âDamn!â Raven nods approvingly âTold ya⌠kinkyâ
//
Lexa sighed daydreaming a little, caught in the memory of just how much fun she had with Clarke. âI just had to kiss herâ
 //
âWait- Hold onâ Raven raises her hands, frowning so deep that her eyes close for a moment. âYou noticed?â
âWe talked about it. Actuallyâ
//
âOh yeah! Because that fixes everything!â Raven glared at her pointedly, sarcasm loud and clear. âGod!â Raven covered her eyes leaning her elbow on the table âIâm terrified at the thought that half the shit that comes out of your mouth is my doingâ
Lexa giggled triumphant âThank youâ
//
âthis is literally the only thing that might actually save you from my rage so donât lie to me!â Raven points angrily.
âIâm not! Iâm serious!â Raven narrows her eyes still.
âFor real?â
âFuck yesâ
Coming soon...
//
The Night Before
Clarkeâs bedroom
//
#clexa fic#wanheda's dagger week#the 100 finale 4th anniversary#about me#personal#clexa#writing prompt#wanhedasdaggerweek24#This was supposed to be ready today but i'm two scenes behind on my own schuddle lmao#a gift đ¤#and my first beta-d fic đ
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