#clexa prompts

[dysco-lymonade]

Clexa #7

7. Visiting them at their place of work.

It’s like you’re in my head, Anon. I’m thinking of posting on this AU as a series of snippets to ease myself back into the game.

Lexa tugs her jacket tighter around her shoulders as she faces the cool midnight breeze of downtown polis. She has two blocks to figure out what she’s going to talk to Clarke about tonight. She can only small talk about the weather so many times before the blonde thinks she’s got as much depth as a puddle.

Lexa had just barely managed to get her latest assignment submitted before the 11:59pm cut-off time, and her one and only motivation was seeing the corner store clerk on her way home.

She picks up her pace as she sees the neon store sign up ahead. The mantra of ‘don’t fuck this up, be cool, be brave, be suave,’ running through her mind on a loop. She pushes her way through the door, ready to plaster on her most casual grin as she makes eye contact with the cashier, only to falter in her steps.

Instead of seeing Clarke, she holds the gaze of a floppy-haired frat boy, who looks all-too-pleased to see her walking through the door.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Lextra Woods.”

“Bite me, Collins.”

“God, I would love to.” He retorts with a smarmy grin.

Lexa rolls her eyes and moves on to the drink coolers. Of course, Finn fucking Collins works here too. Finn fucking Collins, the bane of her existence. Beta Fish Chi fucking- whatever frat president Finn fucking Collins. The boy had been making her life an absolute living hell for the better part of the semester. Every time she would cozy up in her favorite corner of the student library to work on her assignments, in would walk (read: stampede) Finn fucking Collins and his gaggle of pledges. Lexa wasn’t even convinced he was part of an actual fraternity, but rather, just trying to have every guy at Polis U begging to be his friend.

She scoffs as she yanks a bottle of water from the cooler.

“Rough night?” She hears from behind her, ready to turn on a dime and give Finn fucking Collins what for.

Only she turns around and is met with the cool blue gaze of none other than Clarke Griffin. She damn near drops the water bottle.

“Oh- uh, yeah. You could say that.” She mentally slams her head into the glass door of the drink cooler. “Better now, though!” She pulls what she hopes is a charming smile onto her face. In reality, Lexa is pretty sure she looks like a serial killer.

“So… Lextra, huh? Interesting name.” Clarke flirts, actually goddamn flirts, with that mouthwatering bite of her bottom lip.

“Lexa… actually. Collins is total tool. Thinks everyone deserves a nickname.”

“Don’t I know it; he won’t stop calling me ‘Princess’ and I want to vomit every time he says it.” Clarke rolls her eyes and moves towards a rack of potato chip bags to presumably reorganize them.

“How utterly condescending of him.” Lexa picks at the label of the water bottle for a moment, contemplating asking, but eventually goes for it. “I really haven’t given you my name after all this time?”

Clarke shakes her head in the negative. “Nope.” She pops the ‘p’, of course she does. “I’ve been fiddling with a few possibilities. Heather seemed too uptight, Brittany too lackluster, I knew it had to be something more unique.” She winks. Actually goddamn winks, and Lexa damn near passes out.

“I would say thank you, but I didn’t pick my name.” Way to be suave, Woods, get it together. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually.” There she is. “I wanted to ask you something. I haven’t seen you on campus, but I’m assuming since we seem to be the same age, that you must go to Polis U. Otherwise why would you work so close?” Stop rambling, get to the point! “Anyway. There’s this fundraiser. It’s more of a bar-crawl, honestly, but it’s to support my program. You buy a wrist band, and the proceeds go to the Law department… I know, bar-hopping for the law… kind of silly…” GET TO THE POINT “Anyway, I wanted to see if you might want to come along with me?”

By the time Lexa is finished rambling, Clarke’s eyebrows have pretty much reached her hairline. But the soft smile on her face, and subtle tilt of her head give Lexa pause. Maybe she didn’t totally fuck this up.

“I did go to Polis.” Oh, did she graduate already? “But I had to take a leave of absence.” Interesting… “And I can’t actually go with you.” Clarke bites her lip, but not in a flirty way. Lexa tilts her head, clearing asking the blonde to continue. “Look, Lexa…” Oh god, this isn’t good. Abort. ABORT. “No, no! It’s not you.” Oh god, I’m going to hurl. “Fuck. That sounds terrible but it’s NOT! Listen, come here for a minute?” Clarke starts making her way toward the back room of the store.

“Clarke, it’s fine. Seriously, you don’t have to expl-“

Before Lexa can finish, Clarke has yanked the right leg of her jeans up to expose her ankle.

Her ankle, currently sporting a thick black band with what appears to be a large battery pack attached to it.

“Uh, Clarke I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m on house arrest. Well, house and work arrest, I guess.”

Lexa blinks once, not fully grasping the situation.

“I got into some trouble, nothing serious. I didn’t hurt anyone or anything. I just. I can’t go anywhere other than my house or work… for now. I have an appeal hearing in a few weeks.”

“Oh my god. I thought you were just feeding me a line.” Lexa chuckles and leans against the wall. “So, I’m crushing on a criminal? That’s what you’re telling me?”

Clarke looks up at her with a devilish smile. “Crushing?”

Oh fuck.

Lexa takes pause. The cats out of the bag. Just go with it Woods.

“Well yeah, hasn’t it been obvious?”

“You mean, like how you’ve never given me your name, or any type of way to contact you?” She lifts an eyebrow in question and Lexa basically falls to her knees.

Lexa takes a moment to scratch the back of her neck, in what she hopes is a cool demeanor. “I wasn’t sure you were interested. You flirt a lot with, you know, everyone.” She shrugs her shoulders and scuffs the toe of her shoe on the floor, breaking eye contact.

“Tips.” Clarke says simply. “They only pay me minimum wage here, you know, being a hardened criminal and all. I gotta pay the bills somehow.” She chuckles and suddenly Lexa feels the other girl’s hand on her bicep. “Lex,” Lexa would normally scowl at the nickname, but it sounds so sweet coming from the blonde’s raspy voice that she’s decidedly changed her outlook on nicknames. She meets Clarke’s eyes and sees sincerity. “I really would love to go out for a drink with you some time. Maybe just give me a few weeks? Or more, depending on the outcome of my hearing? And in the meantime, can I have your number?”

#clexa #clexa au #ankle monitor AU #clexa prompts #anon #Pretty Little Mess

[cascowriteswords]

Ooof you’ve just opened the doors to hell with reblogging those prompts, hope you’re ready for several asks from me 😂

First one:

Combine these- 46. What happens if I do this? + 43. Are you drunk? + 50. People are staring

All at the same time 😏

Oh man 🤣 I honestly forgot I did that lol. But this was fun to throw together. It could have gone so many different ways.

Lexa and Clarke are attending a charity art gala at which Clarke, a prominent local artist, is donating several pieces. Clarke runs into one or two too many servers offering wine on her way back from the bathroom.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Lexa isn’t expecting the hand that claps her on the ass and gives a rough squeeze. She jumps a little in surprise, taking an undignified scooting step forward that lands her hips flush with the table in front of her. She’d been waiting for her wife to return from the bathroom, perusing exhibits from other artists at the gala while she did, and hadn’t anticipated such an enthusiastic reunion. “Hi, honey,” she laughs, flattered and amused. She slips an arm around Clarke’s waist, tugging her into her side. “This is a nice piece.”

“Mmm,” Clarke hums in agreement. “It is. Not as nice as your ass looks in those pants though.” Lexa isn’t sure how Clarke would be able to pass judgment, though, because she isn’t even looking. Her lips are pressed to Lexa’s shoulder, peppering the exposed skin there with kisses. Lexa feels the hand that had been resting on her stomach slip lower until Clarke’s fingers are tucking into her waistband. 

“Clarke,” Lexa warns, her stern tone contradicting the way her stomach swoops and fills with warmth. Lexa's never been able to control her reaction to Clarke's touch, still so intense even after so many years. But they are very much in public. Her wife is a guest of honor as a highly esteemed local artist meaning she isn't exactly flying under the radar here. This is really not appropriate. 

“What?” Clarke asks impishly. “I’m just…trying to enjoy the art.” Her hand slips lower, past the hem of Lexa’s tucked-in shirt to graze the strip of skin between it and her panties. Lexa sucks in a breath and quickly grabs Clarke’s wrist, halting her progress. 

“Are you drunk?” she hisses, but there’s no venom in her voice. The hitch in her breath gives her true reaction - thirst, want - away, and she can feel Clarke grin against her arm where her lips are still pressed. Fully in possession of her number. 

“A little,” Clarke admits, nipping the point of her shoulder. “What if I just take you right here against this table?” she asks. “Or on it,” she adds, sounding introspective at the prospect. “This event is boring. I want you.” Her fingers push lower, breaching the boundaries of black lace before Lexa gets her wits about her and tightens her grip on Clarke’s wrist. She can feel the tips of her ears burning, no doubt bright red at this point, a blush that threatens to creep across her face any second now. She shoots a glance around the room, certain there must be people watching them. People who are hopefully not cognizant of the fact that Clarke’s hand is literally in her pants right now. 

“People are staring, Clarke.”

“No they aren’t,” Clarke quickly dismisses. Lexa knows she didn’t even check to make sure. She can definitely feel eyes on them - just curious, or hoping to chat with Clarke about her work, or getting ready to call security on them, there’s no way to tell. Clarke tries to turn her hand around, wriggling in Lexa’s grasp as she aims for a better angle, but Lexa gathers her resolve and tugs her hand up and out of her pants altogether. She takes a step back, putting her hands on Clarke’s shoulders to keep her at arm’s distance. 

Clarke pouts, lower lip jutting out and everything as she huffs. “You’re no fun.”

“I am fun. You’re drunk,” Lexa tuts. Once she’s relatively confident Clarke won’t try to jump her bones again she lets go of her grip on her arms to cup her face with one of her hands, stroking her cheek affectionately. “And you have a speech to give in 30 minutes once they announce the silent auction winners. Let's go get some food in you.”

“I want you in me,” Clarke grumbles, but she allows Lexa to lead her towards the back of the room where tables of various finger foods await them. 

“Later,” Lexa promises, and she means it. She's resigned to finishing out their evening here with uncomfortably wet underwear and she'll make Clarke pay for the inconvenience later. Multiple times.

Clarke sighs defeatedly. “Later.”

#clexa prompts #thanks for asking friend

[clexmas23]

Hey Guys! If anyone wants a couple prompt ideas for a theme idea, let me know. People sent in some great ideas and I also have a huge list of ideas.

#clextober22 #31NightsofClextober #clextober #clextober2022 #clexa #clexa event #clexa prompts

[bigg1999]

Would you do prompts?

Sure!

I'd love to have some new ideas.

Although I keep thinking about that dream I had last night. And, well, there might be a new AU coming.

I'm thinking Clexa were high school sweethearts, or even college lovers. Clarke went to Hollywood/LA to become an actress while Lexa had commitments that kept her in whatever shitty town she's from. They're still together, even tho it's hard. Clarke adores Lexa, and Lexa is struggling, but loves Clarke so much. Clarke just had her first big break, and is taking a few months off, so she's come back to visit Lexa. Finally having the confidence to come out to her mom, since now she can support herself.

Clarke tries so hard to show her mom how amazing Lexa is, but it just backfires. Clarke's so out of touch with the people in Lexa's life now. Abby swears she gave Tris (a child selling lemonade) a 20, but she's only giving 8 back. Clarke threatens to call the police to sort it out, causing Tris to panic and give back all the money, packing up for the day out of fear.

Clarke takes Abby to the dinner Lexa now owns. Lexa was supposed to have lunch with them, but two people called out, so Lexa's working instead. Lexa manages to take a small break (20 min) but Clarke has a call and has to leave. Has to rush home to send the promo pictures her agent needs is ASAP, so she leaves her mom and Lexa alone in the booth, rushing out.

Then that scene I wrote, hours later when Clarke finally comes back. She's hoping to find Lexa and relax, but, Lexa's just done.

AHH! It's so angsty idk what it is, but I love it!

#clexa #dream au #i guess that's what I'll call it #since it came to me in a dream #god #I dream about Clexa #anon #anon answered #clexa prompts

[anonfanfic]

RAPID FIRE CLEXA PROMPTS!

I’m in the mood! Give me some Clexa prompts and I will do my best to get as many as I can done tonight!! GO GO GO!!

#clexa #clexa prompts #clexa fanfiction #clexa fanfic

[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

[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

[owl127]

Prompt: Canonverse, Clexa talking about what it was like living in the sky. Clarke talking about her time in solitary and before that. Then came the inevitable topic of what Earth looked like/what does it look like living on the ark. Clarke tries to explain the beauty but also the loneliness of the view of Earth and stars, which is quite unfathomable to Lexa. So Clarke paints one to show her.

I haven't seen a fic where Clarke paints the Earth. I think there should be one.

It was not yet morning when Lexa awoke. She stretched, an unguarded sound scratching her throat as she blinked, hands threading over cold fur. She rubbed sleep from her eyes, a yawn pushing her jaw as she wrapped gray fur around her naked body. She padded over the cold stone of Polis Tower, her movements careful and silent, like the wolf whose pelt now covered her shoulders.

Clarke's shoulders moved with the gliding of a pencil on paper—back and forth, back and forth. Darkness spilled from Clarke’s hands, touching every corner of the drawing. The scratching sound of charcoal slowly fading away on crude paper stopped as Lexa approached her lover from behind on her tiptoes to peek beyond a blonde mane of bed hair. Through the darkness, pinpoints of light broke into view under Clarke’s smudged finger, surrounding a detailed circle off-center.

Like Clarke, it was beautiful. A mesh of black and white, asymmetrical shapes like separated pieces of a puzzle.

"What troubles your mind, ai hodnes?"

Clarke froze and splayed her hand on her chest, her fingers leaving dark stains on her chemise. "You scared me," she whispered, her eyes round with surprise.

"Moba. I’m sorry." Lexa pointed at Clarke’s fur-lined chair with her chin, and Clarke nodded, scooting to the side so two people could fit; Lexa didn’t bother, half of her weight landing on Clarke’s lap, who breathed an oof. Lexa squinted her eyes, and Clake tightened her lips. Clarke made to put her drawing on the side, but Lexa reached for her hand.

"What is it?"

"It’s Earth. Graun."

Lexa looked at Clarke and at the drawing, and they both shook with Clarke’s chuckle. "As if seen from space," she completed, and Lexa raised an eyebrow. "I loved to watch it."

Lexa leaned closer, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke spread the fur over her legs and welcomed Lexa to snuggle into her chest. Lexa sighed, content, and waited. Clarke kissed the top of her head and nudged her nose into soft curls.

"There was not much to do when I was in the sky box. Prison," she amended, and Lexa tightened her hold on Clarke’s waist. She knew of the way Arkadians treated their young in the sky—the prison, the deaths. It amused her that some sky people accused grounders of being ruthless when they also killed their offspring without a thought.

"But I had this tiny, tiny window that most of the time would show more of the station, but every 72 hours, when it rotated just right and Farm Station wouldn’t be on the way, I could see it. I could see Earth." There was a pure, raw joy in Clarke’s voice, warming Lexa’s chest. She could hear Clarke’s heart beating against her face, steady and sure. She closed her eyes.

"I loved to watch it before… before they locked me away. Dad used to talk about it—the trees, rivers, and mountains. I wish he could have seen it." The heart under Lexa’s careful watch sped up in grief, and she kissed one exposed collarbone. "When we landed... I don’t know if you ever had a dream come true, Lexa, but that was how it felt. Seeing Earth, with all its green and life, was a dream coming true." Lexa’s kiss lingered on freckled skin, her way of saying that yes, she knew how that felt. A blush blazed across Clarke’s cheeks, pink and spreading.

"How was it? The sky?" Lexa whispered, hoping to bring joy back into Clarke’s voice.

"There was a rule for absolutely everything. You could achieve much, but never freedom."

"Not very different from the life of the natiblida."

Clarke’s kiss on Lexa’s head lingered. "No. The way I remained sane was to think about the earth and to watch it from the sky." She motioned to the drawing, and Lexa touched the corner of the paper with a curious finger.

"But you couldn’t see anything from there."

"That was what made it more beautiful. The mystery, the stars"—Clarke points to the faded points in the darkness of space—"the freedom I had was in imagining Earth."

"Do you miss it?"

"No." Her mouth feathered Lexa’s neck, and the tip of her nose met where the fur covered Lexa’s chest. "It was beautiful but lonely. I’d rather die down here than admire Earth from afar ever again." Lexa shrugged the fur away, her head falling back so Clarke could explore the warm skin. The crinkling of paper joined Lexa’s sighs in the quiet room, Clarke’s fingers closing on both her drawing and Lexa’s thigh. "A dream coming true," Clarke whispers into a blushing ear.

"Klark."

"Heda." The word caressed Lexa’s neck, hot and wet. "I regret many things since leaving that prison, but this," she said, her tongue following the lines of Lexa’s neck with the same care she used to create the lines of her art, "is something I don’t regret."

Lexa accepted the kiss with an eager mouth, opening herself to Clarke. "You." The air between their faces was heavy and humid, and Lexa shifted on Clarke’s lap. "You were my dream coming true. I may not understand the loneliness of prison, but I understand the isolation of leadership, Klark."

"From all the marvels I’ve seen on Earth, you’re the one that keeps surprising me."

Lexa ignored the heating of her face and chest, instead straddling Clarke’s waist. The pelt slid down her skin, revealing the soft marks Clarke had left the night before. A small smile touched Clarke’s lips at the sight, and her fingers, smudged and calloused, traced the path she had craved on olive skin.

"I’m not alone when I’m with you," Lexa confessed, her lips searching for another kiss.

"And you’ll never be alone again," Clarke promised.

The first rays of the sun touched the open curtains, along with the singing morning birds.

#ask the owl #drabble #prompt #clexa #clexa fanfic #the 100 #soft #some kissing because why not #let lexa kiss her wife while naked #\o/

[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

[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

[clexmas23]

Hey! I'm so glad clextober is on once again! I wanted to participate but I'm not sure what to do, you said people send some great prompts...? Could you share some? Thanks you, and thank you for organizing this events!💖

Of course! Here are a few, and if you would like some more just let me know How does Clarke and Lexa spend their favorite holiday, Halloween together in a post apocalyptic world. Carving pumpkins in the moonlight can be risky business. Especially when your best friend is a young vampire learning to control their thirst. All it would take is one little slip... Have we met before? But you looked...different? Lexa gets invited to her neighbor Clarke’s Friendsgiving event, what will she take to impress the woman she has been crushing on the past several months? Do Clarke and Lexa brush their hands as they reach for the perfect pumpkin in a pile of pumpkins?

#Clextober #Clextober22 #Clexa #clexa prompts #clexakru #31nightsofClextober #clexa fandom

[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