#clexa prompt

[owl127]

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 they’re in this cute cute cabin together, it’s 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 👁️👄👁️, 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 she’s intimidated by her, like Clarke is her only child and all, so Lexas always very proper with minimal pda you Know…

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 can’t go again," Clarke protests as Lexa continues to kiss her collarbone. "I’m 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.

"Where’s 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? That’s not like her."

"She didn’t 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 she’s back." He makes a 180 with his pink apron in place and joins his hands over his chest. "Let’s 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 Marcus’ statement. Clarke looks back to see Lexa, so red she’s purple, shocked still as the plate she was holding is now in pieces on the floor.

"We know you’re adults," Marcus continues, "but you’re 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, it’s okay. We’re married. My mom knows—"

"Your mother heard us," Lexa whispers almost to herself.

"We don’t know how much she heard."

"Very much," Marcus adds unhelpfully. "By the way, kudos."

"Marcus, please," Clarke shoots back at her mother’s boyfriend, eyeing her PTSD-wife, and Marcus shrugs.

"Lexa," Clarke says, touching her wife’s hand, and it’s cold. "That won’t change how my mom sees you. Okay, she heard a couple things—"

"Lots of things."

"Kane, you’re not helping!" Clarke shouts, and it is at that moment that the cabin’s 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 Clarke’s eyes.

"I’ll help with food," Abby adds, and she kisses Marcus’ 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 mother’s 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 Lexa’s almost catatonic state. "Let’s address this as adults; otherwise, we won’t survive the rest of the weekend."

"Marcus, no," Abby says, still avoiding her daughter and daughter-in-law. Lexa whimpers.

"Abby"—Marcus takes a bite of his pancake—"Clarke is 28. She’s 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 didn’t know for how long or the details—"

"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 didn’t 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. You’re my pup." Abby finally meets her daughter’s eyes. Marcus nudges his girlfriend, and Abby apologizes, "I’m sorry for overreacting."

"It’s alright. I’m more worried about Lexa." Clarke points at her wife with her chin. "I think she’s still in shock."

Abby eyes Lexa up and down, and Lexa melts down in her chair a little bit.

"Mom, stop."

"I didn’t do anything."

"She can’t even touch me right now."

"Good."

"Abby, let the kids be kids."

"If your father were here...

"He would have laughed about it."

"I don’t know, Abby. Clarke didn’t 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

[anonfanfic]

30 - "i am sorry that you found out this way."

For Clexa 🙏

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. 

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 Clarke’s 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 wasn’t perfect, but Clarke felt her chest radiate warmth as she looked at the smile on Lexa’s 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.” Lexa turned so she was facing Clarke and locked eyes with her. “Life is about more than just surviving.” 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.

#clexa #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic #prompt #clexa prompt #clexa ficlet

[cascowriteswords]

Clexa prompt - I Can't Believe It's Not Butter

Out of all of the requests in my inbox, this is the one my brain decided to let me write. Sorry to anyone who sent in a less-cursed prompt and is still waiting, I will get to them eventually!! But for now, here's a prompt about butter.

_______________________________________________

“Come in!” 

Clarke’s voice comes from somewhere far off in the apartment - it sounds echoey and hollow and is barely loud enough to be heard where Lexa stands in the hall after knocking three times on her door. She opens the door slowly, peeking her head in before she enters. She and Clarke have only been together for just over two months and she’s kind of in limbo between feeling comfortable and at home in her girlfriend’s apartment and still feeling jittery and nervous and never knowing what to do with her hands. 

Closing the door behind her and shrugging off her coat to hang by the door, Lexa follows the noise coming from in the kitchen as much as she follows her nose, tantalized by the scent of garlic and roasted tomatoes wafting down the hall. She enters the kitchen to find Clarke standing in front of the island, using a spatula to cut into a glass baking dish full of lasagna. She’s wearing light wash jeans and a black turtle neck and Lexa has never seen someone look so insanely attractive clad in an apron that looks like it may have been handed down to her by her great grandmother, tattered and stained. 

"Hey, you," Clarke greets her cheerfully, wiping her hands on her apron before she approaches Lexa, looping her arms over her shoulders and clasping her hands behind her neck. Lexa's hands find their home on Clarke's waist as she leans in for a kiss that tastes like hello and feels like I missed you.  

"Hey," she says back a moment later when they separate. Clarke’s lips leave remnants of the glass of white wine she’s sipping on her own and she savors the sweetness.  "What is all this? I thought we were ordering takeout." Truth be told, Lexa had been daydreaming about her red curry since her 10am meeting this morning. "I didn't even know you could cook." 

"Despite what you may think I don't subsist entirely on iced coffee and takeout," Clarke informs her, a self-righteous lilt to her voice. "Just mostly. And it's your birthday, Lex. I know you told me you didn't want anything and not to do anything but… well, I just couldn't help myself, I'm sorry. My love languages are literally gift giving and acts of service, you know this.”

Lexa does know this, but still, she could never have been prepared for the truth of those words. Over the last several weeks Clarke has showered her with thoughtful little things - dried and pressed flowers on her doorstep for no reason at all, a new bookmark when she had noticed dog-eared pages in Lexa’s books, a scarf she thought would ‘look really nice’ with her eyes. And then the acts of service, with Clarke happily tagging along on a Saturday morning at the DMV and helping Lexa get her paperwork organized beforehand and doing her grocery shopping for her on a weekend when she was sick. 

Clarke is kind of perfect. Okay, not just kind of perfect; she is perfect. Lexa is terrifyingly head over heels for her given that their relationship has still not surpassed the length of her longest streak to date on Snapchat (with Lincoln, 83 days). 

Clarke mistakes Lexa’s silence for dismay and her smile slowly fades from her mouth. “I’m sorry, are you upset? Because we don’t have to eat any of this, we can still just get takeout if you want. Raven is always raiding my fridge anyways, I can just give her this as leftovers and - “

“Clarke,” Lexa interrupts gently. She pulls her girlfriend back into her arms, runs her thumb across a cheek painted rosy pink from standing over the heat of the stove. “Stop trying to give away my birthday dinner. You didn’t have to do all of this but it’s so sweet that you did. I love it.” And I love you, I’m just too scared to say it quite yet. She thinks, watching the smile return to Clarke’s pretty lips, adoration swimming clearly in blue eyes, that she knows anyways. 

“Okay, good. Because honestly I think I’d never hear the end of it if I tried to feed Raven vegan and gluten-free lasagna.” 

Lexa smirks, knowing that Clarke has only recently become acquainted with the trials and tribulations of dating someone with multiple food restrictions.  “I’m sure it’s amazing,” she reassures. 

Clarke leans up on her toes and pecks Lexa, lingering for several seconds before she drops her heels back down onto tile. “I appreciate the confidence. Sit down and let me feed you, please. I made a cake for after too.”

…..

Clarke can cook, it turns out. The lasagna is good, enough so that Lexa argues that Raven wouldn’t even be able to tell it’s vegan unless Clarke specifically told her beforehand. Clarke isn’t as sure but she still beams under Lexa’s praise. 

The cake is good as well - surprisingly good for having been made by someone who doesn’t have years of experience trying to create something edible with structural integrity without gluten or any animal products. Lexa still doesn’t even have that down herself 100% of the time. 

“This is really good, Clarke,” she says, covering her mouth with her hand as she speaks. 

Clarke preens. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure about the I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter but it actually tastes like butter? I might even just start using that regularly.”

It takes a second for Lexa to register what she just said. I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter, which is deceptively still not vegan even though it’s ‘not butter’. Then she’s faced with deciding whether or not she should inform Clarke of that fact; she’s so proud of herself for her successful meal and dessert that Lexa is loath to take away from that. She’s leaning heavily towards not saying anything, but Clarke is more perceptive than Lexa gives her credit for. 

“What?” she asks, brows furrowing slightly. “What did I say?”

“Nothing,” Lexa says quickly. For someone notoriously good at hiding her thoughts and feelings, she’s surprised how easily Clarke can read her. And surprised that she has let her guard down enough to be read at all. 

Clarke narrows her eyes. Waits. 

“It’s just that - well, I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter isn’t actually vegan. It has traces of milk in it. Unless you got the one that specifically says vegan on it?”

Clarke stares at her blankly for the span of a few seconds. Then her face falls. “Oh my god, Lexa, I’m so sorry. I just - why would they call it that if it still has milk in it?!”

“Well, it’s not called I Can’t Believe There’s No Milk In It,” Lexa quips. Then quickly sees from Clarke’s face that she’s not receptive to joking around right now. “It’s misleading, I know,” Lexa says, shifting her tone to sympathetic. “It’s okay though, babe. Mistakes happen, it’s not a big deal.” 

“You’ve been vegan for 11 years and I just fed you milk.”

“By accident,” Lexa reminds her. “Realistically I’ve probably accidentally eaten dairy in something before. Really, it’s not a big deal.”

Clarke sighs loudly. She stands up from her seat and walks over to Lexa’s, worming her way until she’s crammed between Lexa and the table, seated across her lap. Lexa slides an arm around her back to support her, the other falling to rest on one of her thighs.

 “I’m sorry,” Clarke says again, needlessly. “You just wanted takeout from the Thai place and I did all of this just to accidentally poison you. Did I ruin your birthday?”

“Not at all.”

“Are you sure?” Clarke toys with the baby hairs at the nape of Lexa’s neck. “Because I was thinking of some ways I could make it up to you. If I ruined your birthday, that is.”

Lexa momentarily shortcircuits at the suggestive tone of Clarke’s voice, the feeling of her blunt fingernails skating lightly across the back of her neck. She swallows thickly. “On second thought, it might have been slightly ruined. Just a teeny bit.”

“I knew it,” Clarke says, a sly grin on her face just before she leans in to kiss Lexa soundly. “Any ideas or requests as far as how I can make up for it?”

Lexa cocks her head, pretending to think about it. Then she slides her chair back from the table, the legs scraping loudly under their combined weight, and stands up, nearly dumping Clarke onto the floor before she hooks her hands around the backs of her thighs and hoists her up into her arms. Clarke giggles in delight as she wraps her legs around Lexa’s waist and hangs on, letting herself be carried towards the bedroom. 

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas. And I think you’re going to like them all very much.”

She can feel Clarke’s smile against her skin when she buries her face in her neck. 

Despite the mix-up with the butter, this is by far the best birthday Lexa has had in years.

#clexa prompt #clexa drabble #what even is this? idk honestly #clexa butter prompt #thanks for asking

[clexagr1ff1n]

Some Clexa Kink Prompts

( sorry this is my first time doing this n these r jus random and cringy clexa kink prompts that don’t rlly make sense that i thought of in class. )

1 - G!p Lexa works as a haunter at a haunted house and one day she sees Clarke and decides to have a little fun with her and scare her blah blah blah then them having sex in a closet.

2 - G!p Clarke is Lexa’s teacher ( Lexa is 18. ) and one day she catches Lexa slacking off in class and decides to punish her.

3 - ( TW: Somnophilia. ) Clarke and G!p Lexa are roommates and one day while their cuddling Lexa falls asleep and has a sex dream abt Clarke and Clarke doesn’t realize this until she feels Lexa grinding on her and moaning her name and decides to have a little fun with sleeping Lexa.

ALSO i wanted to make this clear that when i thought of these that Lexa and Clarke never had done anything sexual or romantic before hand maybe a little flirting here and there but not kissing or sex these prompts are their first time doing ANYTHING together.

( if anyone makes any of these please let me know in the comments or something, you don’t have to give credit but i wnna read it if u make it. Also i want to make it clear for the Somnophilia one that Lexa talked to Clarke before hand saying she’s into that kind of stuff idk if that makes it better but i dont want ppl thinking that i support r4pe. )

#clexa smut #the 100 clexa #clexa #clexa ao3 #clexa prompt #kink prompts #clexa deserved better

[tiny-pun]

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

[butmakeitgayblog]

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. 

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. 

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 ‘see you later’, 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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

At least that's what they'd agreed. 

She watches her wife— 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.

“Cheers,” Clarke says, holding up her flute of champagne. 

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. “Cheers, single lady.”

“Mm. This is good.”

“Even better than I remember from the first time,” 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. 

“So,” she tries, casually, setting aside her cane and leaning heavier against the kitchen table, “what are you going to do next?”

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. 

“Go to Disneyland.”

The sound of Clarke's snort rings through the kitchen. “Smartass.”

“What about you?” Lexa asks with a bite to her lips, hands still bracketing the sides of Clarke's waist and eyes twinkling with mischief. “Any big plans for the future, newly divorced Ms. Griffin?”

Clarke scoffs. “Nice try. But it's still ‘Ms. Griffin-Woods’ to you.”

“Oh? Is that right?”

“Uhuh,” Clarke nods and loops her arms around Lexa's shoulders. “Sorry not sorry, but I'm never giving that one back.”

Lexa hums and presses closer. Paints her body to Clarke's curves and breathes her in the same way she has for forty years. 

“Greedy, but I think I can live with that.”

“Such a hardship. I seem to remember you loving that about me.”

“Among so many things.”

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. 

Well. Her ex-wife, that is…

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. 

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.

“You good, baby?” Clarke chuckles along with her, mindlessly going to rub the shoulder that had started being a pain around birthday forty-seven. “Didn't pop anything, did you?”

“No, I'm good, I'm good,” Lexa says, smiling and shaking off her ill-coordinated prowess like the champ that she is. “That just used to be easier.”

“Is that a crack about my weight?”

“More like a crack about me being old.”

“Oh. Well then yeah.”

“Rude,” Lexa gasps, taking the hips in her hands and pulling them closer. Pressing Clarke firmly against her stomach. “There's still giddy up in this old girl, I'll have you know.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“My, my, Ms. Woods—”

“Griffin-Woods,” Lexa's quick to correct. Suddenly serious in how intensely she stares Clarke in the eyes. “You're not getting that back either.”

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. 

“You're still my girl,” 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. “Even with me, and having to do all this… You know we're still us, right? You're still my girl?”

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. 

Lexa kisses her once, twice more, and pulls back with a soothing smile.

“Always, love… Forever and ever.”

#sassymajesty #writing prompts #sorry this got long #clexa

[dysco-lymonade]

#6 for kissing prompt using any clexa you want 😊

You’re now entering an unknown Clexa AU set some time during college.

Maybe it’ll 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 wouldn’t 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 she’s not listening. She honestly doesn’t really care that he missed the opening of the art show. It wasn’t like she’d 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. “Yo, Earth to Clarke.” Finn has successfully grabbed her attention, and her murderous gaze.

“Did you seriously just snap at me?” She furrows her eyebrows.

He doesn’t even flinch at her tone.

“Yeah I was seeing if I couldn’t make it up to you.” He shoots her what she’s 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 she’s not interested, without having to actually say it. “Finn, look. I’m not sure what—“

He cuts her off with a hand on her forearm. “I know you’re upset, princess. But it won’t happen again. I promise.”

“What won’t?” Clarke shrugs her arm away from his touch just as his eyes wander to something behind her.

“Oh hey, Lexa. Can you give us a minute?” Finn asks.

Clarke doesn’t hear a response. Instead, she feels herself being turned around with a gentle grasp to her shoulder. It’s like she’s moving in slow-motion.

Clarke’s eyes briefly land on the determined face of one Lexa Woods before she’s suddenly too close to focus on.

Two soft palms cup Clarke’s jaw as slender fingers grasp around the back of her neck.

Then Lexa’s lips are on hers.

It’s so unexpected that Clarke hadn’t had a moment to ready herself. Lexa comes in too quickly, damn near chipping Clarke’s tooth.

Clarke can’t find it in herself to mind. Instead, she sinks in to the feeling of Lexa’s hands cradling her face.

Clarke wraps her hands around Lexa’s 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.

“Jesus, Lex. What was that?!” Clarke all but squeaks. Now looking Lexa directly in the eyes.

Panic is the only word that could possibly describe the look on Lexa’s face.

“Shit. I just saw him over here bothering you again and I thought— I don’t know what I thought. I didn’t think.” Lexa’s rambling and Clarke can’t help but find it endearing. Leave it to Lexa to step in and save Clarke from unwanted advances. She’s just never been quite so bold about it.

“Lex.” Clarke tries to get her attention to calm her down.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” Lexa winces.

“Absolutely terrible.” Clarke teases back with a grin. “You should do it again.”

#clexa #clexa au #this could be another fun AU but I don’t 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

[incorrect-clexa]

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

[eternalreignblog]

GP Lexa receives a text from an unknown number. When she opens it, she finds a nude of Clarke who sent it to her by mistake. Lexa decides to play along and sends a dick pic back

Tossing her bag down on the kitchen table, Lexa groaned audibly as she collapsed down on the sofa. She was exhausted after a long, hard day at the fire station and wanted nothing more than to take a hot shower, bury herself under her doona, and sleep for a week.

Hearing her phone ping with a notification nearly made her scream, thinking it might be her boss calling her back in for a double shift.

Mentally preparing herself for disappointment, Lexa hoisted herself up and ruffled through her bag to find the offending device. Swiping to unlock her phone, Lexa was pleasantly surprised to see a message from an unknown number rather than her boss.

Sighing in relief, Lexa plonked herself back down on the couch and opened up the message, assuming it was another one of those scam attempts.

Her eyebrows shot up instantly, and her dick twitched in approval as an image of a perfect set of tits flashed up on her screen with the caption "thinking of you 💋"

There were no links. No, 'click here to see more' or any other tell-tale sign of a scam message, so Lexa concluded she must be the lucky recipient of a wrong number sext.

Her cock was getting hard looking at the mirror snap of the strangers gorgeous breasts, thinking about sliding her dick between them and cumming on the lips that were just out of frame. She could see some tendrils of blonde hair over petit shoulders, but the stars of the show were definitely the huge breasts sitting proud, nipples hard, and pointing toward the camera in all their double-D glory.

Feeling bold, and now kinda horny, Lexa shoved her pants down enough to free her now rock hard cock, and started stroking.

Before she could think about it too much, she snapped a pic of her dick standing tall, bead of precum leaking from the tip as she jerked it to the strangers picture.

Lexa had to admire the photo for a second as her slim waist and small hands had the added effect of making her cock look huge by contrast.

She quickly typed out "now I'm thinking of you too 🍆💦" and sent off the message to the unknown number.

Her heart was beating with nerves and lust, never having sent an intimate image to a partner before, let alone a perfect stranger.

She went back to admire the nude, still impressed by the quality assets in the photo. Lexa was definitely a boobs girl, and this set was notging short of magnificent.

Lexa was stroking her cock, slowly working herself up when she almost dropped her phone in surprise when a new message came through.

Scrolling excitedly down to the new pic, Lexa let out an audible groan at the sight of the woman's naked body. She was lying on her bed, one knee up with a hand between her legs, touching herself as she took the photo from just above her chest so Lexa had a perfect view right down her gorgeous figure.

The woman had captioned it "what are you thinking about?"

Lexa was invested in this little game now, pulling herself up off the sofa and meandering her way ungracefully to the bedroom, knocking into walls and furniture in her haste, all while divesting herself of her clothes haphazardly.

She came to a halt in front of her bathroom mirror, and before she could overthink how utterly insane she was being by sending nudes to a total stranger, she snapped a shot of her torso and cock, the frame starting just under her breasts and showcasing her abs.

Smiling smugly, she sent the picture with the line, "sliding my cock between your tits before I fuck you hard,"

Laying down on her bed, Lexa waited not so patiently for a reply while slowly jerking herself.

After less than a minute, a massage came through, and Lexa was mildly disappointed when no image was attached - until she read the words.

"Your cock looks delicious, i want to taste it 🫦"

Lexa groaned audibly as the image of her cock dissapearing into the mysterious woman's mouth flashed through her mind.

Before she had a chance to respond, a picture came through, and Lexa nearly came on the spot as she took in the image of a decent sized dildo sliding into a soaked pussy. Moments later, another message followed.

"I wish this was your dick,"

Without thinking, Lexa fired back, "I would fuck you so much better, I would eat your pussy till you're screaming before rolling you over, sliding in and fucking you until you cum on my cock,"

The three dots appeared straight away.

"Slap my ass while I'm face down on the mattress and I'll cum so hard on your cock. I want your cum inside me so bad,"

"I would fill you up so much you'd feel it dripping out for a week,"

"I'd clean you up so good, lick all our cum off your dick,"

"I'd make sure you get every last drop,"

The rapid-fire texts stopped for a moment, and Lexa was disappointed because she was so close to busting that one more message would probably have sent her over the edge.

Stroking herslef, Lexa could feel the beginnings of her orgasm. Scrolling through the chat and looking at the pictures again, she was so close to nutting. God, this girl was hot as fuck, Lexa sent a silent shout out to whoever the dumbass was that gave her the wrong number.

Their loss. Lexa’s unequivocal gain.

Then, as if by some kind of divine intervention, another message and pic appeared on Lexa's screen.

Her eyes raked over the new image of pretty pink pussy lips absolutely covered in slick, two fingers sliding through the mess with the caption: "i just came so hard thinking about your cock,"

It was exactly what Lexa needed, the thought of her cock replacing the fingers in the pic sent her careening over the edge, cumming hard all over her abs.

She stroked her dick to squeeze out every last drop, only adding to the impressive load that had accumulated. Lexa hadn't cum this hard or this much in ages and the release left her feeling spent and relaxed.

After she came back down to earth, and with her last ounce of energy, Lexa snapped a pic of the mess she'd made and sent it off, "wish you were here to clean me up," she added before she collapsed in exhaustion.

**********

The next morning, Lexa woke to find herself in pretty much the same position she fell asleep in, and just as messy. Kicking her past self for not at least cleaning up before falling asleep, Lexa dragged herself out of bed and into the shower.

Thinking back on the crazy events of the night before, Lexa could hardly believe it had even happened. She opened up the convo with the stranger to rehash the memory and prove to herself that it was indeed real and not some fatigue induced hallucination.

What she wasn't expecting to find was a fresh massage -

"I have no idea who you are, you're definitely not the person who gave me their number last night, but damn girl, I need your cock in my life. If you're in Polis, and fuck I hope you are, be at Grounders Bar at 10pm tonight, I'll be the one in red,"

As soon as she finished reading, Lexa was on the phone to her boss to change shifts.

There was no fucking way she was going to be anywhere other than Grounders tonight.

#prompt #ask #g!p Lexa #Wrong Number AU #i forgot about this little gem #hiding away in my drafts #enjoy some bonus gp lexa content #clexa #clexa smut

[kpforpresident]

double entendre

"Hello? Earth to Clarke? Baby?"

Clarke comes back to awareness slowly, then all at once as she snaps back into reality. Lexa is crouching in front of her with an amused albeit knowing smirk on her face, a slightly curling whisp of hair hanging down in front of perfect green eyes. A small smudge of potting soil marred one perfectly flushed, freckled cheek- the only indication they had been vacationing on a sunny Spanish beach the week prior.

Clarke shakes her head slightly to pry her gaze away from where she had been staring at Lexa's jean clad ass as she bent and glided seamlessly through the flower shop, gathering individual stems from various piles to complete some soft or special bouquet- prom? a wedding? a bar mitzvah? Clarke had tuned out as soon as Lexa had tugged her soft navy sweatshirt over her head to reveal a thin white tank top, a strap slipping off to conveniently reveal a lilac bra strap.

Clarke's mouth watered as her imagination wandered to what she knew was underneath the t-shirt bra, having had her mouth sealed around the right one just a handful of hours previously- two perfect capped deep blush nipples.

"Clarke? Baby, where is your head today?"

Clarke shakes her head frantically, trying to shove some semblance of a thought back into her brain.

"Get it together, Griffin, there's still 30 minutes until closing," Clarke thinks furiously to herself as she aggressively pinches the bridge of her nose with her free, non-dirt covered hand. A slim hand reaches up silently to cover hers, pulling Clarke's hand away to press a lingering kiss to the back of her hand.

Clarke can feel Lexa smile into the back of her hand as she briskly pulls her to her feet, smacking her ass with a loud crack as Clarke yelps in shock.

"Love, where's your attention gone to? You've been doing so well."

"I- you- what-" Clarke stammers in a newfound haze of lust and disbelief as the brief sting cushioned by her yoga pants moved lower and became a darker heat.

///

Yes, baby. You're doing so well, Lexa had murmured into her thigh, last night, sucking another stinging purple mark into the meat of her slightly shaking thigh before moving slightly to slide Clarke's right leg over her shoulder, opening her up wider. Clarke shivered slightly in anticipation as her eyes fluttered shut under the onslaught of stimulation. Her hand clenched the bedsheets involuntarily as a stream of cool air blew across her clit.

"That's it, love, just let me make you feel good," Lexa whispered into the curve of her hipbone, smile lupine and feral before lowering her head once again to lick into Clarke.

Clarke gaped soundlessly at Lexa once again, feeling a flush creep steadily up her neck. While Lexa was attentive with boundless energy and a undying love of making Clarke cum as many times as humanly possible, it had been only recently that she had become more vocal, more sure of herself when in charge in their bed.

Lexa winks innocently as she turns back to the floral arrangement on the beaten wooden desk, elegant fingers neatly tying twine around a line of slender green stems.

"Clarke, be a good girl please and find me the baby's breath that Aden too inventory of yesterday? It's here somewhere, I just seem to have misplaced it..." Lexa trails off as twinkling green eyes meet incredulous blue ones.

///

"Yes, good girl," Lexa said breathlessly, eyes intent on Clarke's face as Clarke soared over into the most intense O of her life. Clarke feels her entire body lock up with white hot pleasure as Lexa's fingers find her g-spot and press, all while swiping a slim finger over her clit.

///

With effort, Clarke manages to swallow the lake of drool that she knows has been gathering in her her mouth so as not to choke and completely loose her cool in front of her ridiculously hot albeit mischievous girlfriend.

Clarke knew that Lexa would rather swallow her tongue than ever tease Clarke like this in front of a customer, their current saving grace to the steamy tension that was currently building between them an empty flower shop. Clarke chances a desperate glance again at her wristwatch, her father's hand-me-down that Lexa had silently gotten fixed for Clarke as a one year anniversary present.

Four minutes to closing.

Clarke makes an executive decision and lunges for the door, slamming the cheery open! sign to closed so fast the glass door wobbles in its frame threateningly.

Mind made up, she locks the door decisively and hits the main light beside the entrance. Velvety darkness falls over the shop, the only light a cool toned hum from the cut roses case on the far side of the shop and the buttery glow of the back room's lamp.

Clarke slowly crowds Lexa back into the counter, grinning in delight as Lexa's pupils slowly expand under Clarke's heated gaze to swallow the forest green iris she loves so much.

Clarke laces their hands together and tows Lexa quickly towards the back room, thanking every deity that she could recall that they kept a blow up mattress and sheets stashed in the closet ever since Lexa had been trapped there in the dead of winter last year.

"Time to make good on your teasing, pretty girl," Clarke manages to get out before crashing their lips together. Tussling with Lexa's shirt as she finds a plump bottom lip and sucking it into the heat of her mouth, she smiles slightly as she tugs Lexa closer and bites. Lexa manages to get out a noise between a gasp and a whisper before pressing herself against Clarke.

"Whatever you want love, however you want it," Lexa says throatily, eyes fixed on Clarke's kiss- swollen mouth. Clarke crashes their lips together once more as she flips the switch to inflate the mattress and press her very willing girlfriend up against the wall, sliding to her knees in the meantime. Lexa's head hits the wall with a thud as Clarke's fingers make quick word of her jeans button.

///

They leave the flower shop 4 hours later, slightly more rumpled than they arrived that morning but grinning dopily at each other as they slowly meander their way home, hands intertwined.

#clexa #plant shop au #@casco asked for this type of prompt but then never sent an actual as in soooooooo #some lite smut for your monday evening #enjoy kids

[blu3haw4]

"That's not going to fit" for the made up fic title

Okay, two thing came to my head.

The first one would be a smutty cracky one-shot where either Clarke or Lexa tell each other that when the other puts out a strap/dick if we're going for G!P

The longer one, would be a repetitive sentence said between the two usually refering to clothing. Something like:

It was their thing. Their one true inside joke. Their line.

The first time was a little of a surprise. First time Lexa stayed over at Clarke's, they hadn't know each other for all that long and it was a circunstancial necessity more than a plan. They had met up for a coffee close to Clarke's place and out of nowhere a storm hit and it was too dangerous for Lexa to go back home.

Clarke offered Lexa more comfortable clothes to spend the night but Lexa kept dismissing the idea. The sentence came right when the stubborn pair were a little done with each other, Clarke having brought out a pair of sweat pants and shoving them into Lexa's hands before trying to push her to the bathroom to change.

"C'mon, Lexa, you can't tell me you're comfortable in those jeans! Just put on my sweatpans!"

Lexa throws the sweatpants back, annoyed and a little embarrassed that she's probably going to have to confess why she doesn't want to try them on.

Clarke huffs, grabbing the waist of the pants and pulling them up in the air in a 'see? Nothing wrong' gesture.

Is a single raised eyebrow that follows the gesture that breaks Lexa.

"That's not going to fit!" She huffs, and then pouts. Because she knows.

She's not ashamed to say she's looked at Clarke's figure more than once, she paid attention because- well, she's only human and they've been dating for a little while. It wasn't a crime.

It all came with comparation though, she knew her cleavage wasn't as prominent as Clarke, she knew she was taller than her soon to be girlfriend, she knew she was more tones and less curvy in most areas.

She knew her ass and hips were much wider than Clarke.

"It's not going to fit" Clarke breath, frowning at the sweatpants.

Because of course she knew too. She's looked too, if there was one thing about Lexa's body -that she knew thus far- that she liked was her figure, how her pants and dresses always seem to put up a fight with her hips and bottom. The tightness she could notice was the reason she proposed Lexa wear something more comfortable. How could she have been so stupid to no realize those hips would never go past the waistband of her sweats.

The awkwardness would last long and they would soon find other ways to make Lexa comfortable (if you know what i mean)

Another memorable time would be in the rush of the moment. A kiss turned make out session on the couch of Lexa's shared apartment with her sister, quickly scaling into something that involved much less clothing.

A ring tones, or a car door closing outside would alert them of the fact that Anya would walk in too soon. In the rush of getting presentable Lexa would throw Clarke a tshirt from the floor.

"This isn't mine"

"Doesn't matter, put it on!" Would leave Lexa's mouth before she can stop it.

They would pause. Looking at each other, with Lexa in just her sweater and Clarke holding Lexa's shirt against her chest.

It's a shared thought.

'That's not going to fit'

Blushing and giggle Clarke would throw the tshirt back, laughing out "that's not going to fit!"

"Unless you strech it!" Lexa would laugh too making Clarke fake-ofended chase her through the apartment to Lexa's room.

By the time Anya would walk in they would've long forgetten it all started because of her arrival

And so on, i could think of a million other little moments that they would say this to each other and why not, bring in the strap one.

#anon #writing prompt #technically speaking #made-up fic tittle #thank you anon #i had fun #i wrote this on the bus on my way home #i have a headache now for staring at the scree while moving all that time #but well #it was fun still #clexa #clexa fic

[owl127]

So I was at this women’s basketball game—it being March Madness and all—and this player that I find really really cute (she actually kinda looks like Lexa), wasn’t warming up. When the game started she went through the tunnel and back into the locker room which is kinda weird because even if you’re 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?

Lexa’s 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.

“Oi!” A ball came in her direction and Lexa held the pass in pure reflex, but that didn’t stop her frowning at Anya. “You look miserable. Smile for the cameras. It’s the fucking final fours, Lex.”

Their team captain’s shouted words were not as encouraging as Anya thought, and Lexa threw the ball back on the court.

“I’ll be out of here in a minute,” Lexa said and pointed to her headphones. “These are not working as expected.”

A rare sight of kindness flashed over Anya’s face, but it was gone just as fast. She sat next to Lexa, her mouth close to Lexa’s covered ears. “We’re here because of you. No one doubts that. We’ll win this so you can crush it at the final.”

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 didn’t help with her growing headache.

“I’m going back in,” she excused herself, standing up. Anya’s face softened, nodding.

“Your head okay?” 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 didn’t 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. 

She could have made history tonight. Instead, because of a single nasty call at her last game, she cannot even watch from the bench.

“Fuck,” she mumbled, her lips trembling in frustration. She wanted to punch something.

“I know, right?”

Lexa’s 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 Lexa’s 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 Clarke’s arms and how her left foot didn’t touch the floor.

“I watched your last game.” Clarke’s dimples showed at a half smile. “I’m surprised you made it to the game tonight,” 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.

“What are you doing here?”

“There are stairs to the visitors’ locker room, and I really needed to pee. Can you believe they built this building for like, healthy people? There are stairs everywhere.” 

“I meant…” Lexa pointed at Clarke’s whole deal, and differently from Lexa, the other player didn’t wear a uniform or a windbreaker, just a hoodie with her university’s colors.

“Pulled muscle. Bad enough to knock me out. I didn’t want the sponsors to see me with the crutches.” Clarke nodded in the direction of the plastic supports. Lexa noticed a bright blue athletic tape poking out from Clarke’s joggers all the way to her lower abs visible under the hoodie. Her cheeks flushed, and when she looked up, Clarke smirked at her.

“How did it happen?” Lexa cleared her throat, ignoring the way blue eyes went up and down her body.

“Not as hilariously as the block that took you down,” Clarke said with a shit-eating grin that Lexa wanted to wipe off.

“That was a fault!”

“Sure, babe.” Clarke adjusted in her seat, massaging her thigh again. “I’m sorry you can’t play tonight. I was looking forward to destroying you.”

That made Lexa smile. “In your dreams, Griffin.”

“Oh, but my dreams about you are quite different, Lex.”

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.

“I’m sorry you’re missing the game, too,” Lexa said, unsure if her face showed her reaction to Clarke’s comment. By the way Clarke lounged on the bench and shifted closer, Lexa must have blushed.

“It was a good run,” Clarke said.

“You don’t think you can win?” 

Clarke snorted. “Do you?”

“I trust my teammates,” Lexa said and crossed her arms. If Griffin didn’t have any loyalty to her team, that was her problem.

“Don’t get me wrong, darling—” the thin hairs on Lexa’s neck bristled at the pet name — “I 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.”

“But you’ll be the first draft pick.” The truth rolled out easily on Lexa’s tongue, and she suppressed the bite of jealousy at the thought. 

“And you’ll be second, unless they go insane.”

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. “If I get top four, I’ll be happy.”

“You will.” There was certainty in Clarke’s voice. “We are one of the lucky ones.”

“I know.” There was no hiding the struggle of women’s basketball. Sure, the league had promise and potential, but it was a shadow of the sponsorship and compensation of the men’s league. With limited teams, getting a spot as a professional was already an achievement.

“So, can you help me back to my locker room, princess?” Clarke asked, pointing to her crutches. Heat rose to Lexa’s cheeks, and she crossed her arms.

“Why are you always like this?”

Clarke, halfway to standing, sat back down on the bench. “Like what?”

“Why are you so, so…” Lexa searched for a word, but unwelcomed suggestions jumped to the front of her mind like “hot” and “sexy”, and she ended up going with, “infuriating! Why do you flirt with other players only to mess with their game?”

Clarke huffed, an unusual pink dusting her cheeks. “I don’t flirt with other players.”

“You’ve been pretending to flirt with me in every game for a year!” Lexa didn’t know she needed to vent about something tonight, but Clarke gave her the opening she needed.

“Wait, wait,” Clarke said, raising her hands in surrender. “One, I don’t do that to other players. Two, I mostly do it with you because I know it won’t affect your game. I need to have something against your resolve, and flirting with a straight girl is harmless enough. Besides, you’re hot, Lex. Wow, why don’t you react like this on the court?”

Lexa’s 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 Griffin’s tongue. Compliments—Griffin’s compliments! She needed to change this line of thought.

“What on earth have I done for you to think I’m straight?” Maybe that wasn’t 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.

“You never reacted to me before.” Clarke’s voice was a full octave lower, and Lexa might be in trouble. Lexa swallowed and fidgeted with her jacket zipper. “And maybe, yeah, I’ve been flirting with you not only because of the games,” Clarke confessed, the heat in her cheeks darkening.

Was Clarke flirting with her again?

“I was kind of hoping you’d be able to play tonight,” Clarke continued, “so I could watch you all night instead.”

Yes, that was flirting, Lexa’s concussed brain detected. She didn’t move as Clarke shuffled closer, their thighs touching.

“I tried to find you early on, but all your teammates were wearing braids,” Lexa said. At 21, Lexa should have a better control of her mouth, but alas, there she was confessing her charms to her rival.

“They wanted to show me support.” Clarke’s voice was close, and closer still as she said, “So you were looking for me?” 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, Lexa’s obviously concussed brain offered, and Lexa’s heart race in adrenaline as she ignored the thought.

“You’re the best player,” Lexa reasoned, swallowing as Clarke invaded her personal space. “Of course I look for you on the court.”

“Well,” Clarke said, and her hand, a tad larger than Lexa’s, reached for Lexa’s own. “I look for you outside of the court, too. I watched the video on your channel about your work against bullying in your town’s high school. That was inspiring.”

Lexa’s heart swelled with something akin to fondness, but she blamed that on the concussion. “Thank you.” Lexa whispered, the moment asking for softness.

“You, Lexa Woods”—Clarke’s large hand closed around Lexa’s, warm and steady—“You are inspiring.”

It wasn’t every day that the league MVP said she was inspiring.

Kiss, kiss, her brain supplied.

Lexa didn’t 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 Clarke’s hand tugged lightly at Lexa’s 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.

“My team will be here at half-time,” Lexa whispered when Clarke finally, reluctantly, pulled away.

“Is that your way of saying you don’t want to kiss me again?”

Lexa wished she could say no to that smile, but she was learning that denying that smile was harder than to block Clarke’s 3 pointers.

“It means we can’t do it here,” Lexa said.

“I’m staying in town for an orthopedic appointment tomorrow morning. You could always stop by my hotel later tonight.” Clarke reached for her clutches and stood. 

“My team will want me around after the game.”

Clarke smiled, one eyebrow raised. “Would 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?”

Lexa’s cheeks warmed. “The British Bake Off?”

Clarke made her way out of the locker room, slow and steady. “We can watch it on mute, which helps with your headache, and watching it always makes me… hungry.” 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, Lexa’s 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

[anonfanfic]

Clexa parents at parent teacher night

Or clexa at someone else’s 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. 

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.

“That’s not really what I want to taste right now,” 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.”

“Yes, but I’m your dork,” Lexa wrinkled her nose and gave Clarke a quick kiss, before turning to the employee to pay for their groceries. 

“Always,” Clarke whispered under her breath. Forever grateful for these moments with the love of her life.

#clexa #clexa prompt #clexa fanfic #clexa fanfiction #prompt #little beasts

[coneheda]

1 please…”come over here and make me” 😏

"Come over here and make me.”

“Youre supposed to be packing” Lexa says in lieu of a greeting.

“I hate packing” Clarke whines and Lexa can hear her girlfriends pout through the phone.

“So instead of just getting it done you're torturing yourself by prolonging the process”

“Or I’m waiting for someone else to get tired of my moping and do it for me” Clarke says hopefully.

“I already packed my place, Clarke. All by myself.” She emphasizes

“See you have so much more experience than me!” 

“Clarke” 

“What?”

“Stop using me as a distraction and pack”

“Or what?” Clarke says suggestively.

Lexa rolls her eyes ignoring the tone, “Or we won’t be able to move in together?”

“And here I thought you were going to say you’d punish me”

“Clarke” Lexa says in exasperation

“Lexaa” Clarke whines.

“Pack.”

“Come over here and make me” Clarke taunts.

“Fine”

The line drops, Clarke stares at her phone. She honestly thought it would take a lot more than that to get Lexa to cave, but she’s not complaining. She moves to flop herself on the couch when there’s a knock at the door. She frowns, Lexa lives 20 minutes away and she doesn’t remember ordering anything.

She grins when she opens the door. “You were already on your way over.”

“Yeah well for some reason I had a feeling nothing was getting here.” Lexa says as she walks into the apartment, eyeing the half put together boxes and rolls of unused bubble wrap. “Looks like I was right.” Clarke sticks her tongue out at her, but Lexa ignores her, moving to the table to start organizing kitchenware. “Come on, let's get to work.”

Clarke walks up behind her wrapping her arms around Lexa’s shoulders, “Orr we could do something else.” She whispers into her ear, trailing a line of kisses down Lexa’s neck. Lexa turns in her arms, wrapping her own around Clarkes waist.

“Mm what did you have in mind?”

Clarke tilts her head up, brushing their noses together, lips millimeters apart. “I think you know exactly what I have in mind.” she closes the gap. Their lips move together softly at first. Deepening as Lexa lifts her up, Clarke’s legs wrapping around her waist. Lexa moves them over to the couch, gently laying Clarke down and settling on top of her. Hands slide up and down her back as she slowly rocks into Clarke. Teeth drag over her bottom lip, open mouthed kisses are planted along her jaw before reclaiming her lips.

Lexa gasps as she breaks the kiss, leaning back to look down at her girlfriend “you want to know what turns me on?” Clarke nods, dark lust filled eyes stay fixated on her mouth.

“The idea of waking up next to you every morning,” She says, dropping a roll of masking tape into Clarke’s lap. “Now, pack.”

Mouth opened in shock, Clarke takes a moment to collect herself “You’re so cruel.” she says, falling back onto the cushion.

“The quicker we get this done, the quicker we can finish what we started.” 

“Oh believe me it won’t be quick.” Clarke mutters, hauling herself up and reaching for a collapsed box.

“Which one?”

“I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

#clexa #clexa fic #asks #prompts 2 months later

[cascowriteswords]

4 in the moment kiss where they’re enemies to lovers. Maybe coworkers? 🤔

I technically cheated and combined these two but I think it's okay because it ended up being over 3k words 😅

...

“How do I say you’re fucking insane if you think I’m doing all of this without getting fired immediately?” Clarke asks Raven, who sits in the cubicle across from hers. 

“The new boss?” Raven asks, still typing away without taking her eyes from her screen. Looking to be just about as overloaded as Clarke feels. 

“Yeah. She’s already getting on my nerves because she’s rescheduled our initial meeting like 4 times now. And she keeps sending me things that don’t even have anything to do with my department. I’m the director of People and Culture. I'm not a recruiter. I’m not in marketing. And I’m sure as shit not her personal assistant either. And it’s like -” she glances at the corner of her screen for the time “3 o’clock. I’m supposed to do the jobs of 4 people and still get out by 5? Or does she expect me to pull overtime on a Friday night? Like there’s no way I could possibly have plans. Maybe she’s one of those people who thinks that just because I’m not married and don’t have kids she can shove off everyone else's work on me.”

“Lexa’s a busy person Clarke. I really don’t think it’s personal.”

“Personal or not, it’s not fucking happening. So help me with this email or else your next cube neighbor might be some insufferable old white guy whose all-natural deodorant is just really not working for him.”

Raven relents, finding a stopping point in whatever exactly she’s doing to get up and shoo Clarke out of her chair. She ends up deleting 98% of what Clarke had written, swapping out phrases like “why the fuck didn’t you tell me you needed this done sooner” and “that’s not my fucking problem” with more diplomatic phrases such as “I’ll schedule those meetings for you at your earliest availability” and “I wasn’t involved with that project but I will forward your request to the appropriate parties”, respectively. 

“You’re weirdly good at that for someone with the smartest mouth I know,” Clarke commends her when she’s finished. 

“It’s all about balance, babe. Now can I please get back to my job? Or the Commander’s going to fire us both. Maybe your mom will let us turn her study back into your bedroom and we can crash there when we can’t make our rent next month.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. Then something registers. “Wait. The Commander? Is that what people are calling her?” she asks, a mixture of disbelief and disgust seeping into her voice. 

“Yeah,” Raven shrugs. 

“I get that she’s the boss but she’s not commanding me to do anything,” Clarke grumbles. She plops back down in her chair and starts typing angrily. 

“If you add anything to that that gets you fired after I just rewrote the whole thing for you I’m going to be so pissed,” Raven warns. 

“I’m not,” Clarke promises. “I just don’t want her to think she can walk all over me. Command me,” she adds, rolling her eyes. 

She ends the email with Hope this helps, let me know if you would like to meet with me to go over the roles of our departments and their directors to avoid misallocation of time and resources in the future and hits send. She hopes it's just passive-aggressive enough to get the message across without being able to be used against her.

She goes back to work, furiously attempting to complete the tasks The Commander had unloaded on her. She may not have kids or a significant other waiting for her at home but she does have a cat and a bottle of red wine and a new episode of her favorite shitty reality TV show to watch. 

So far the new boss has taken 2-3 days to return any of her emails. So she isn't expecting it at all when she gets the notification that someone has replied to the email she just sent an hour ago. 

That sounds like a great idea. Come up whenever you are ready. 

Clarke's initial reaction is oh shit. Followed in rapid succession by annoyance and frustration when she has the realization that it's already past 4 o'clock now and this means she most definitely will not be getting out on time, not that there was much hope she would, anyway. But still. 

She needs to learn to keep her big stupid mouth shut. 

"It was nice knowing you," she grumbles to Raven as she gets up and smooths the wrinkles from her slouch out of her shirt. Raven quirks a brow but seems otherwise unfazed as Clarke shuffles toward the elevator and her impending doom. 

…

…

Clarke knocks three times, half hoping to not be heard so she can say she tried and return to her desk. 

No such luck. 

“Come in.” The voice is muffled by thick oak and considerable distance but Clarke manages to catch it. She steadies herself and lifts her chin, prepared to simultaneously defend herself and give The Commander a piece of her mind as she opens the door and steps into her office. 

She’s wholly unprepared for the woman she finds sitting behind the desk. 

She isn’t sure what she was expecting but it definitely isn’t this. Lexa looks young, for starters, nearly the same age as Clarke. Her features are somehow both delicate and sharp, with high cheekbones and pouty lips and big round eyes that Clarke can’t quite figure out the color of at first glance. Chestnut hair is piled up on top of her head in a messy bun like it was originally down but she’d had enough by the end of the day, strands towards the front not contained by the hair tie and instead framing her face. 

Clarke’s first impression is that this might be the most attractive woman she’s ever seen in her life. Her second is that she looks tired. And her third, more of an observation than an impression, is that it looks like a bomb went off in this office. There are papers literally scattered all over the floor, boxes stacked along the walls and windows that would normally boast an expansive view of the skyline, and the couch against the far wall looks like it’s been functioning as a dresser and changing room of sorts with slacks and button down blouses draped over its back and arms. 

Between Lexa’s unexpected prettiness and the warzone that is her office Clarke momentarily forgets why she’s here and that she was even mad to begin with. 

“I apologize for the state of my office,” Lexa says, likely having followed Clarke’s gaze around the room. “It’s been a whirlwind trying to get everything in order around here. Titus gave us no warning about his departure and apparently was trying to run this company into the ground, by my estimations after going through what I could of the data.” She sighs, finishing scribbling something down onto a sticky note which she adds to a pile of other sticky notes on the left side of her desk. “Sit, please,” Lexa tells her, gesturing to the chair on the other side of her desk. 

Clarke has that tongue-tied feeling that she only gets around pretty women. And that - cannot be how she feels sitting across from her new boss, especially not as the leader of People and Culture. She forces herself to speak, reminding herself why she’s here and what her end goal is; to not get fired while also putting her foot down about the scope and limitations of her role. She decides to get right down to business, voicing her concerns, and finds Lexa to be… a very good listener. She listens so well and intently, in fact, that Clarke almost finds herself losing her train of thought because those eyes. 

And then she does something Clarke had absolutely not expected her to do - she agrees with her about the general mismanagement occurring and state of disarray in the company and asks for her input about the best way to move forward. She apologizes for sending a slew of information and tasks her way and explains that she never meant for Clarke to complete all of that work on her own or immediately but rather to delegate and get to things when she had the time. She thanks Clarke for her hard work and dedication and tells her that even though this is their first formal meeting she’s well aware of the hard work she does and is very thankful for her contributions to the team. 

Clarke’s been working in corporate culture long enough to be able to tell when someone is just blowing smoke up her ass. When scrutinizing Lexa’s words, all she gets is that she seems like one of the most genuine, down-to-earth people she’s ever met. She’s just swamped, stressed out, and working insane hours trying to fix all of the various fuck ups Titus made over the past 4 years as CEO. 

Very much to her surprise, she finds herself sympathetically offering to help Lexa get some things sorted out. And again to her surprise, she finds that she doesn’t mind staying and working in Lexa’s office with her, spending time helping her delegate work to other departments and creating a realistic timetable for the next few weeks with attainable goals. Clarke tells funny stories about some of the department heads as they work and Lexa spills secrets about the board members she works with after swearing Clarke to secrecy. 

She doesn’t even realize how much time has gone by until Lexa glances at the clock on the wall and looks at her from across her desk, stricken. “You should go home. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it’s already after 7. Thank you for all of your help, you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

Clarke didn’t have to. She definitely did not expect to want to when she had sullenly ridden in the elevator up here. Raven probably thinks she got herself kicked out of the 5th-floor window since she never came back to her cubicle. But now she finds herself reluctant to leave, especially knowing that Lexa will likely be here all night continuing to work. 

“Did you have dinner yet?”

Lexa looks up from her computer screen slowly. “I haven’t.”

"You just moved here, right? Have you been to Tomatoes yet?" 

"I haven't," Lexa says again. 

"It's a little hole-in-the-wall spot. Kind of…lackluster, but their tacos are to die for and the bartender is awesome. Would you want to go?"

"Now?" Lexa asks, pointedly surveying her desk that is, despite having been organized, still loaded with paperwork to be sorted through. 

"Yes, now. You've been here all day - I know because I've been here all day and you were here before me. Those papers will l still be here Monday." Lexa looks doubtful as she chews the inside of her lower lip. "Or tomorrow if you insist on working the weekend. But let's be done for the night. Both of us." 

This is so not how Clarke thought her night would go; standing in front of Lexa, her boss, The Commander, and trying to lure her out to the bar for tacos and a drink. Genuinely hoping she'll accept because even though they've been working she's actually had the most fun she's had in a while and she's not quite ready for it to end. 

Lexa looks at her thoughtfully, meeting her eyes. She glances down at her desk once more and then exhales, tossing her pen into a drawer as she shuts down her computer. She stands up and grins at Clarke as she takes her jacket off the back of her chair and shrugs it over her shoulders. 

"Alright. Let's go try these tacos, then." 

…

…

“You have to be kidding me.” 

Lexa turns around and hits Clarke with a smug, triumphant little smile. Then looks back at her achievement, a dart nestled solidly in the red bullseye circle of the dartboard, surrounded by Clarke’s failed attempts scattered haphazardly across the board. She’d gotten it on her first try, standing several feet further back than she even had to.

“You lied to me. There’s no way you’ve never thrown a dart before.”

“Do I look like I frequent establishments that have dartboards, Clarke?” Lexa asks, quirking a brow in challenge. 

No, she doesn’t. Not in the pantsuit she’s wearing, even after she shed her coat and blazer shortly after they’d arrived. One half of her shirt has come out of its tuck and the top few buttons are undone, the collar sagging open and offering the view of just a hint of collarbones on either side. Her cheeks are a little flushed from the one beer she’s had and she looks messy but somehow still put together. She’s undeniably beautiful, and she stares at Clarke expectantly waiting for some kind of comeback, unaware that Clarke can hardly think when she’s standing there looking like that. Existing in her space. Out of her comfort zone but still self-assured and confident. She’s unbelievably attractive, beyond what Clarke had even perceived when she got her first look at her earlier in the day. 

She’s so screwed.

“No, you don’t,” Clarke admits with a sigh. “I’ve been trying for months to get a bullseye. You must just have some kind of natural technique with your fingers.”

Lexa opens her mouth to say something, then seems to think better of it. But Clarke’s not having any of that. “What were you about to say?” she asks. “I don’t need you to pity me, Raven kicks my ass at darts on the regular.”

Lexa doesn’t answer right away, looking at Clarke like she’s searching for something. Clarke can’t tell if she finds it but waits patiently. “It’s not appropriate,” she says after a moment. 

Interest - piqued. “We aren’t at work right now,” Clarke reminds her. 

“But you’re human resources, essentially,” Lexa laughs, a little nervously. “Seems like a grey area.”

“We don’t call it HR because of the negative association that’s been tied with it over the years. Like this, it makes people nervous. So yeah, I’m technically HR, but I’m not a narc. And you’re the CEO anyways.”

“Which makes it an even greyer area.”

“Lexa, come on. We’ve been having a good time, right?”

She nods. Weighs her options for just a few more seconds and then says, “I was just going to say that I’ve been told I have a natural technique with my fingers before. In…other contexts.”

It takes a second for Clarke to process and then - oh. Oh. 

She’s glad she hadn’t taken another sip of her drink because she might have choked on it. 

She swallows, trying to gather herself, absolutely not letting herself take a closer look at Lexa’s hands because she’s already noticed that they’re nice but she hasn’t scrutinized them beyond that. “That was extremely inappropriate, Miss Woods,” she says, calling on her stern business-woman voice that she’s perfected over years of dealing with employee relations issues. 

Lexa’s eyes widen. “Clarke, I told you that I didn’t want to overstep. I’m sorry. I knew I shouldn’t have -”

Clarke doesn’t have the heart to watch her flounder for more than a few seconds. She cuts her off. “It was inappropriate, but I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” She feigns more confidence than she feels as she puts a hand on Lexa’s knee reassuringly. A small gesture to make it so that Lexa isn’t the only one who has crossed a line tonight. Lexa looks a little shell-shocked, looking up and down between Clarke’s hand and her face enough times that it’s almost comical. Clarke squeezes her leg once and then lets go, standing up from the stool she’d been sitting on as she watched Lexa play darts. “Come on, let’s go sit at the bar. The next thing I want to make you try is their southwest egg rolls.”

She grabs Lexa’s hand like it’s no big deal at all and pulls her towards two open seats. 

…

…

Clarke’s not sure that Lexa has ever eaten greasy bar finger food before but the southwest egg rolls are definitely a hit. The noises Lexa makes as she eats them tell her as much, and also do things to her. But they don’t affect her half as much as watching Lexa amicably interact with some of the old townies who are also sitting at the bar with them. It turns out Lexa knows enough about baseball to hold her own talking to Bonafide Baseball Expert Jim McDonnel and she doesn’t bat an eye when a very drunk Mary Lou bumps into her seat and then talks about her 13 cats for five minutes until the bartender mercifully calls her attention back down to the other end of the bar where her actual seat is. 

Clarke feels a little bad for subjecting high-class Lexa to this place but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, when she turns to look at Clarke her eyes are bright and her smile is genuine and she says, “Thanks for showing me this place. It’s great.”

Clarke kind of adores her and her big dopey smile. And that’s a really scary thought to be having about her boss of all people but she’s rolling with it. Whatever it is between them, chemistry or connection or some other unnamed thing, it’s off the charts.  And Clarke can’t take it anymore, especially knowing that the night is starting to come to a close. 

Lexa is already sitting close enough that their knees are knocking together and it’s not much distance to close between their mouths at all. She doesn’t have the tact or inhibition to do it slowly, just leans in and kisses Lexa like she’s been wanting to do all night. It’s heated and languid immediately and she finds Lexa only needs a fraction of a second to adjust to her surprise before she’s kissing back, open-mouthed and hungry. 

It’s stupid Jim McDonell’s hooting and hollering that breaks them apart less than a minute later, reminding them that they’re very much in public and kissing in a way that is very much not chaste. 

A realization that is quickly followed by the fact that Clarke just kissed her boss. “Sorry,” she says quickly, trying to catch her breath. 

Lexa holds her gaze. Licks her lips like she’s trying to taste what’s left of Clarke on them. Clarke tries not to visibly squirm in her chair as she watches, and looks back up when Lexa finally says something. “No you aren’t.”

Clarke’s alma mater would probably revoke her degree if they heard her response. “No, I’m not.” Lexa smirks, then not so subtly looks at Clarke’s mouth, desire clear in the intentness of her gaze. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

When Lexa’s eyes flick up they’re darker than they were before. Heat flares in the confines of Clarke’s lower stomach and settles between her legs. “Very much so.”

Clarke’s hand flies up, flagging down the bartender to close out their tab without taking her eyes off Lexa. She tips generously and laughs when Lexa grabs her hand and tugs her hurriedly back towards the car. 

On second thought, maybe she should open her big fat mouth more often.

#thanks for asking buddy! #and anon who asked for 7 too! #clexa drabble #clexa kiss prompt #clexa kisses #clexa

[tiny-pun]

You have heard of “drunk calling” now get ready for

“Sick calling”

Person B is sick and can’t think straight anymore since their mind is a haze of eating, sleeping …. And missing A.

So ofc what better thing to do than just … call A up? And confess that they need them and only them ? And also their soup! Their sick soup is THE best they’ve ever had (pssst don’t tell C tho)

Bonus point, if others don’t know they know each other; let alone that they’re in a fight or broken up ! … which will all now be resolved ofc, now that A knows B does care and want them!

#sick fic #sterek #destiel #writing prompt #newtmas #fanfic prompt #coldflash #fanfic idea #jori #writing idea #supercorp #drarry #sabriel #narusasu #clizzy #swanqueen #pansymione #catradora #clexa #kinnporsche #kimchay #xicheng #wangxian