Looking For the Magic (Pt 4)
Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.
Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
Part 4 under the cut
Anya stood in front of the slightly foggy bathroom mirror, hands on the sink, letting her body cool down a bit to where she could think straight. It wasn't as if she hadn't had sex before, but this was bigger in some ways, and it was the first time she'd had a partner who seemed as into her as she was into them. It was the first time a partner didn't look to expect her to be the so-called 'dominant' one of the two, the 'aggressor', the 'top'.
Not that she couldn't pull it off somewhat convincingly if pushed to, she had in the past, but there had always been a large part of her that wanted to be able to let go completely, and she couldn't do that when she was completely taking care of a partner in a very specific way and performing a role they needed of her. She always had to keep some part of herself hidden away. Usually a major part.
Fact was, yeah, she was a warrior. She was one of the coven's primary weapons, and she'd bash skulls and use her powers to ruin any threat she came across, but when she got back home, she wanted to let go. With her powers, her role in the coven, she always had to be this pillar of strength, and being trans, she had to be bulletproof and fierce to hold her own and keep from bringing about another referendum on her womanhood.
It was tiring. She took care of her coven every day, she protected herself every day. It shouldn't have been too much to ask for someone to want to take care of her, to protect her, even if just sometimes. It shouldn't have been so hard for people to accept that she could be strong in some less traditional ways.
Costia always said being vulnerable, truly vulnerable and open in front of someone, was a show of incredible strength. Maybe it had taken six months of therapy and a being helplessly bedridden for two weeks to bring her around to the idea, but Anya believed it. She wanted to be strong like that for someone, where she wasn't forced to show that vulnerable side of herself, but instead could willingly trust it with another. She wanted to be with someone who could handle that kind of strength from her instead of wanting her to be something she wasn't.
Clarke, as unlikely a candidate as any, seemed up to the task. She seemed to want her for her, no masks, no roles, no fetishistic shit, but Anya just wanted to be sure. Thus, the breather.
"Okay...I can do this. Clarke's apparently always been attracted to me, and was only put off because she thought I leaked her secret. And she's been nice and remorseful since we figured shit out...and I know I've always liked her, except for when she was trying to kill me and when I thought she was transphobic enough to out me. I know there's a risk, but is it wrong of me to want to give this a shot and see what comes of it?" She rambled to herself, taking a few deep breaths before shaking her head. "I hope it's not. I just want this to be okay. She likes me, I like her, and...and she already knows about me, so we're good. We're good. I can at least give this a chance. I deserve a chance at happiness."
Mind made up, Anya grabbed her things and made her way to the bedroom, brow furrowing as the sound of some sort of music met her ears from behind the closed door. Curious, Anya creaked open the door and peeked her head in, being met with the sight of Clarke sitting at the end of the densely towel-covered bed with a pile of pillows at her feet, soft tinkly nature music playing from the old speaker system.
"Clarke, may I come in?" She asked, prompting the woman at hand to shoot up from the bed, posture stiff and nervous.
"Of course, yeah, absolutely, come in!" Clarke let out at a rapid pace, her blushing clear even under the dim, candlelit conditions. "I, uh...I spruced the place up while you were gone."
Anya shot the other blonde a smile, even if it twisted a bit with her confusion as she took in the sight of spare water bottles stacked atop the dresser. "You didn't have to do that, Clarke."
"I wanted to. I know it's really fast, but I like you, and if you want to tone it down and go casual, or go slow, we can do that, too. I just...I wanted to try and make it special. Or as much as I can." Clarke explained, vocal pace slowing there at the end as the woman's gaze fell to the ground.
Anya was almost glad Clarke didn't see the utter shock she displayed at the words. "Special?" She asked, voice dropping to a whisper as she closed the distance to Clarke, enough to reach out and lift the woman's chin with the tips of her fingers. "You wanted to make it special? For me?"
It was unfathomable. Sex had never been very special for her in the past, and now it was her former nemesis taking the initiative to make their time together special. It was both absurd and heartwarming, and had Anya gravitating ever closer to the beautiful blonde before her.
Clarke let out a heavy breath and nodded, eyes still downcast and averted, even after Anya stroked a thumb across her cheek. "I don't understand it all. We go from enemies, to...something else...and my mind's been trying to figure out what you are to me, and every time I make a decision, it keeps telling me I'm wrong, that you're even more important, that I need to be closer. Until now. When I had you in my arms, I just...I knew that's exactly where I'd have to be for us to figure it out together...and I want to figure it out with you. And you deserve better than some quick screw on the couch, Anya."
Astonished, Anya stepped away from Clarke and made her way to the dresser to take in the candles. Some of them were scented, but it was lilac. She liked lilac. "And you think I deserve, what...romance?" She asked, baffled that Clarke jumped through hoops to set a mood for the both of them. It was entirely new territory for her.
"This? Not romance. It's a crude facsimile of it, but it was the best I could do in fifteen minutes with what I could find in the cabin. And the music's not romantic, but it...you know, I'll just go turn it off, actua..." Anya had been mesmerized by the other blonde's rambling up to the point where Clarke started towards the old iPod dock.
Her instincts kicked in quickly. "Clarke!" She yelled out, freezing the other woman in place. Feeling sheepish for yelling and maybe ruining the mood, Anya stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as she moved up beside the sound system. "Please don't."
"It's just music I use when I paint. I go out and into the woods and nature, and I see so many things, and take pictures and sketches that can't capture it, I need paint. But I can't paint out in the rough, so I come home, and I use this to get back into the feeling, the memories, and...I...I'm sorry it's not more romantic." Clarke finished her rambling with a sigh, head dipping in apparent defeat, contrasting heavily with the adoration blooming in Anya's chest.
"No, don't apologize. Clarke, I love it. It reminds me of simpler times, it's soothing...and it makes you remember your passions." Anya countered, trying to lift the other blonde's spirits, because it really had been a thoughtful touch.
Clarke's head lifted slightly, enough for the woman's sparkling sapphire blue eyes to peer at her through her lashes. "I don't think I'll need to draw on any of my passions if I have you here with me." Clarke murmured, stepping into Anya's space and wrapping arms around her waist. "So what did you have to go get?"
Anya swallowed hard and nodded, shifting back to reality, where everything could potentially fuck up again. "I don't get real wet, or at least it takes time for me to get really wet, so...all the rubbing and friction...it'd start to hurt more than anything soon enough, so I got some lubes. We don't have to use them, we don't have to do anything sexual, we don't..."
"Anya, babe..." Clarke interrupted, lifting a finger to Anya's lips, silencing her. "If you're not ready, that won't change anything for me. We can still be close. We can still figure this out. But if you're ready, then I'm on board. And I'd want you comfortable, and not hurting when we're trying to feel good. I like using lube, too, so it's not a problem for me. Do I need to know anything else?"
She let her eyes slip shut, adding the slightest pressure against Clarke's finger with her lips as she let herself be at ease. Clarke was mindful, and sweet, and showed all the signs that she wanted them both to enjoy each other. That was enough for Anya to push past the last of her major inner defenses.
"I don't stretch all that much. I'm working with a bit more than seven and a half inches of depth. If you're gonna penetrate with something other than your hand...so long as you ease me in, I'm good with most sizes, and if you want it rough anywhere, I'd prefer it be anal, please." Anya spoke once Clarke's finger vacated her lips. She felt a little self-conscious, never having had anyone ask about her sexual boundaries before, even if she usually ended up giving them uninvited. It was reassuring that Clarke took the initiative. "Past that, I really like kissing, my scalp is sensitive in the best of ways, and I'm like a dog...if you play with my stomach, I'll love you forever."
Honestly, she added that last bit in mostly due to nerves and anxiety kicking in, but the way Clarke smiled afterward had Anya feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
"What about you, Clarke? I want to make sure I don't do anything that could hurt you or make you uncomfortable." She added, wanting to make sure Clarke felt included and cared for as well.
Clarke let out a faint "oh", mouth practically a perfect circle before the other blonde gave a nod. "I'm, uh, pretty easy going. Receiving anal's a no-go for me, and my breasts are too sensitive to bite, especially around my nipples. And I need to take my meds before I fall asleep...and if this goes like I think it will, I'll want to fall asleep with you in my arms when we're finished, but I need to take my meds. I put them on the nightstand, I'm set for another dose in two hours, or maybe later if need be. I know they're my responsibility, but if you could help me out?"
"Of course, Clarke." She answered immediately, knowing how important keeping to a schedule was with medication. The last thing she wanted was for Clarke to end up in distress.
"And, uh...I guess maybe Costia saw something like this coming, because I checked under the bed for Lexa's candles, and right beside them was my toy box that I lent her a month ago. Not sure how I feel about them anticipating this, but...maybe it might be interesting?" Clarke asked, teetering her weight from one leg to the next, and back, clearly a bit nervous.
Honestly, outside of some little tricks Indra taught her to make, Anya used toys pretty often. "Can we take a look?"
Clarke ducked her head slightly, blushing hard again. "I...yeah, for sure. Just don't judge me or anything, okay?"
Wanting to try and break whatever anxious haze Clarke was knee-deep in, she took hold of the underside of Clarke's chin and pressed a lingering, chaste kiss to her lips, waiting until she could feel the tension release before stepping away and moving to the large box beside the bed.
It was a decent size, and apparently for good reason as she opened it up and took in the sight of Clarke's collection. Wow...ankle spreader, flogger, restraints...someone's into bdsm...ooh, cute paddle with heart indentations... Anya mused to herself before something big and shiny caught her eye.
As soon as she realized what it was, she picked it up to get a better look at it. "Ohhhh my g...okay, so that...that, uh, it's..." Clarke sputtered out, clearly worried about what Anya might think, for whatever reason.
As if it was the first time she'd ever seen a butt plug. "It'll definitely do. The fact that it's capped by a heart-shaped gem is a little precious, but maybe it's a nice break from my more utilitarian set back home." She interjected, allowing herself another moment of studying the cute gem before meeting Clarke's eyes, smiling at the relief there. "Clarke, I'm single. I have been for some time. I told you I like anal. It's not very comfortable using my hands directly for everything, so..."
"Okay, I get it, I'm an idiot." Clarke laughed, lighting her hands in mock surrender.
"Perhaps, but a moderately enchanting one at least." Anya threw the offhanded compliment out as she went to her luggage by the door and hauled it into a free corner, pulling out her lubes. "These should do nicely. The rest can wait for later."
Oddly enough, she didn't startle when Clarke's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, the other woman having approached silently. "So...later on, if I want to use a strap-on..."
Anya let out a low laugh and leaned into Clarke's body a little. "Please, if that's what you want, I'm happy to oblige. And don't be concerned about size, obviously...regardless of your choice, I'll be fine." She answered, holding up the steel plug in hopes of making her point from the circumference of it alone.
"Of course you will. I told you I wouldn't hurt you. I'll take good care of you." Clarke murmured, head dipping forward to plant a pair of kisses to the crook of her neck, only further searing those words into her heart, Anya deeply wanting that to be true.
The way Clarke's hands splayed out across her abs, the gentle press of the other blonde's frame into hers, the sweet kisses on her neck, it all had Anya feeling she could trust this.
That just maybe, she could be entirely free with Clarke.
Clarke was riding a bit of a high as she pressed kiss after fluttering kiss to Anya's neck and shoulders, not just to show her affection for the other woman, but to buy time to calm down a bit. Anya had taken a good long look into her little treasure chest and hadn't blinked or flinched. No, Anya just pulled out the way oversized booty-bling butt plug she'd been given as a gag gift by Octavia. And when she'd stammered out nervously, Anya had reassured her.
And that helped, but damn if she wasn't still working on getting her nerves under control. She wasn't quite sure how to handle Anya. On one hand, she'd never seen Anya so shy and soft, but on the other hand, the woman was still very certain with her words, and her body language had Clarke under the impression that the aggressive, powerful Anya was resting right beneath the surface, ready to pop out at any time.
And while that could be exciting, maybe it wasn't what she wanted tonight to be. She'd initiated so much of the pain sent Anya's way. She wanted to be the one to initiate the healing and to earn Anya's trust in recovering their connection.
Still, she had to be careful, and as much as she wanted to go overboard like she so often liked to, Clarke held that part of herself back as she brought her hands to Anya's jeans and unbuttoned them. "You good to get this started?" She asked softly, pressing another kiss to Anya's neck.
"I believe so." Anya mused openly, turning in Clarke's arms while pulling her top off. Clarke watched the woman back away and sit down on the end of the bed, hardly needing a second to pull off her jeans. Two, three seconds later, with Anya stark naked on the bed, Clarke was unashamed about the gay sweats her body was kicking into high gear.
"Goddess help me..." Clarke muttered to herself as she peeled her leggings off and threw her dress over her head and off to the side. Anya's eyes were wider as she refocused on the woman, and took that as a good sign, and maybe a cue to slow it down a wee bit for her partner's benefit, taking her time in reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Clarke rolled her neck and slowly, carefully pulled her bra free, and tossed it behind her as she stepped up to Anya, standing between the woman's legs. "Care to finish the job?"
Anya was peering up at her, breaths coming out a little heavy, cheeks dusted pink, pupils dilated slightly in arousal. Once upon a time, she dreamed of Anya staring up at her, remorseful and apologetic, but this was exponentially better. Anya wanted her, and she sure as hell wanted Anya; it was all she could do to contain her gasp when she felt the brown-eyed beauty hook her thumbs under her panties.
That gasp broke out into the bedroom air when soft lips kissed her belly, Anya using the momentary distraction to slide her underwear down enough for it to drop to the floor.
"Crafty..." Clarke mused, biting back a laugh at Anya's playfulness.
Anya just began crawling backward on the bed towards the headrest. "Couldn't resist. You've got a cute tummy, Clarke Griffin."
"Shut up, I work hard on it. Just because it's not chiseled like..." She started back, only for her words to still at the sight of Anya's hand and half-lidded eyes beckoning her closer.
"You shut up. You're very kissable, Clarke. All over, I promise you." Anya murmured, eyes growing wider, hands gesturing a little more impatiently, even as a smile bloomed across her face. "Coming?"
Clarke laughed and crawled onto the bed, slowly crossing the distance. "You promise? Because this is all pretty new. Did you have a thing for me even back then, in the dark months?"
The dark months. Well, better to refer to it with a name than to just ignore it. "Clarke, I hated a lot of things, but it could never change how beautiful you are. If being around you didn't hurt so much, if your eyes weren't so cold when looking my way, I could have...anyways, I want you, Clarke. All that you'll share with me."
"You'll get me soon enough, Anya. For now, I want to share this..." Clarke noted, taking hold of the butt plug Anya picked out earlier, along with the woman's coconut oil, figuring it'd be better suited for anal than the water-based one. "Shall we begin?"
Clarke's mouth turned into the Sahara as she watched Anya's hips lift up, the woman practically folding in half as her feet rested at the sides of her head. "Ready when you are."
She fumbled a bit with the lube as she fought to get some moisture into her mouth. If grabbing a water bottle wouldn't have made her look foolish, she would have guzzled half of one back already. Clarke had not been prepared for how limber her partner was, not in the goddamn least.
Clarke was just coating the plug with oil when Anya cleared her throat, instantly capturing her attention.
"Clarke, I know I'm no stranger to this, but...please...be gentle." Anya's voiced trailed off to a mumble, but her sheer focus on the woman had her hearing every word as clear as day, leaving her confused as heck.
"I will. It's not like this is your first time, babe. But if that's what you want..." Clarke started, any additional words dying in her throat as she watched Anya's face flicker with something that looked too much like either fear or sadness for her to bear. She barely had the mind enough to cut off the lube supply before it started flooding onto the duvet.
"You promised you'd take care of me, so...it may as well be." Anya clarified after taking an agonizing few seconds to school her features, voice coming out flat and emotionless. No, distanced.
The last thing Clarke wanted was for Anya to feel she had to do that with her.
"Oh, hey, no...no, I didn't mean it like that, I just...Anya, please." She stated, cutting herself short when she realized none of her scatterbrained pleas were even registering.
Clarke set the oil and plug on the nightstand and shifted to the side of her partner, prodding Anya's legs enough for them to flop back onto the bed. She nestled up beside the woman, angling Anya's head until they were face to face. "You always intimidated me. You're so strong, in so many ways, and I honestly came in here thinking we'd be pulling some cheesy fan-fictiony thing with our tongues battling for dominance, and then that'd escalate given our histories, but like...Anya, I made a shit assumption, and that makes me a bit of an ass, but I want this to work. I feel we have something. So please, talk to me."
Anya blinked slowly and let out a quiet huff. "People always expect me to be this powerful, manly 'top'. Sometimes I'm okay enough to do that for them to an extent, if I'm desperate enough for someone to want me I suppose, but I'm never given the option to be anything other than a bunch of fetishistic stereotypes and fantasies. Just barely woman enough to count as one, and more than male enough for them to live their fantasies and shit through me. I just...I want to be free to be me. I want to be seen. People always want the dominant top they fantasize about, for me to essentially be the man they're not comfortable actually being with, so I'm the closest thing they can have and still get off to. I don't want to be some stand in for a cis dude, or the freakish masculine non-woman creature people sometimes think of me as...and it's gotten better since I had surgery, because no one can see me as a walking talking penis anymore, but...they still don't see me any different. I'm not a whole woman to them, not when they treat me like I'm male." Anya explained in heart-wrenching detail, the slightest tremor in her jaw stilling after a clear moment of focus. "They only ever want that. No one ever wants me."
Clarke was astounded with her willpower that she was able to make it through the entirety of Anya's explanation before pulling the woman into a kiss that channelled every ounce of power, every ounce of passion, every last goddamn bit of reassurance she could muster into it. The moment she shifted in position to get better leverage, Anya's legs were sweeping up and locking around her hips, pulling her down as Clarke kissed Anya into the mattress.
It wasn't fair. Even when Anya was her nemesis, she held disdain for those who pigeonholed Anya outside of womanhood, and she loathed anyone who only saw coven members as their roles, as their abilities. Anya was more than a warrior, more than her powerful body, and certainly wasn't the gross fetishistic and transmisogynstic male power fantasy wearing a woman-suit she imagined Anya's past sex partners wanted her to be. She'd be happy to take anyone who could look at Anya and fantasize about her as if she was a cis man, and throw them off a goddamn bridge in the depths of winter.
That didn't mean Clarke knew all the nooks and crannies of what made Anya who she was, at least not completely. No, she'd have to learn the hard way, by putting in the effort, by making Anya comfortable enough to show her. And damn it, she wanted nothing more in that moment.
"Goddess, Anya, I will take care of you if you let me have that honor. All I want is to be close to you, to make you feel good, and to figure out what's between us. You're safe with me." Clarke promised as soon as she pulled away, foreheads touching and noses grazing each other.
At this distance, she could see renewed faith in Anya's eyes, and felt a rush of fulfillment when the woman confirmed them. "I believe you."
Clarke took the plug and oil back in hand and waited for Anya to get back into position. "There we go, beautiful. Gonna take this nice and easy for you." She murmured as she made sure there was a nice coating of lube on the plug, and for good measure slowly pushed a nice-sized glob of it into her. "Ready?"
Anya let out an affirmative hum, and so for only the second time in her life, Clarke Griffin was inserting a butt plug. From personal experience, she knew going in too quick would just hurt, especially with something so big, so she took her time, slowly stretching Anya out minute by minute. One hand eased the plug in and out, a little deeper with each endeavor, while her other hand gently caressed Anya's hips, not wanting to waste any time she could be tactile, intermittently leaning forward to kiss the woman to help keep that connected feeling going.
She watched as Anya stretched more and more, halfway fearing it'd be too much and there'd be damage, but then all of a sudden the rest of it went in, and all that was left was a pretty red heart-shaped gem resting between Anya's ass cheeks.
"Mmmh, that's such a nice weight, holy shit." Anya let out, legs dropping back to her bed so she could roll over onto her stomach. "Oh wow, yeah, I'm gonna like this one."
Clarke was thrilled Anya was enjoying herself so much already, but her eyes were stuck on the sight of Anya's butt and how goddamn ridiculously cute it was. "Baby?" She asked hazily, gaze still fixed on that gleaming red heart peeking out ever so slightly. It took a moment for her brain to catch up enough to freak out, knowing pet names weren't exactly common so early on. Her mind was racing too fast to catch the pleased questioning hum from her partner. "Oh goddess, I...I'm sorry if I offended you, or if it's too fast, or..."
"Clarke." Anya called out firmly, cutting off all other thoughts as she turned her gaze upward, meeting Anya's as the woman peered over her shoulder. "Clarke, I'm here with you. I want you, awkwardness and all. If 'baby' is the only pet name that comes out from you tonight, I'll be all smiles. I honestly prefer it to most others I've been given, considering the circumstances."
"But it's not ideal." Clarke chimed in, catching Anya's drift that the woman was good with it, but it wasn't her top choice.
Anya rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back. "All the more preferred ones wouldn't be appropriate, we're not in love. So 'baby' will be just fine, Clarke. I'll tell you if I'm not comfortable with something...trust me to tell you, and trust that I'm good if I don't. Please don't think too hard, I accept you, quirks and all."
Clarke couldn't help but beam at Anya, thrilled at the reassurance and that familiar soft expression. Most of her past partners had balked at showing any vulnerability given her magical affinity, most held trust at arm's reach, but Anya was there offering it freely, without hesitation. Her mind kept assaulting her with a single word: Closer, closer, closer. She let that word reach her hand over to cup Anya's butt as she crawled up over the woman's body, pressing kisses up her spine along the way, cherishing the content hums escaping her partner.
"Let's get you warmed up, baby..."
Thirty minutes.
Anya wasn't entirely sure just how much time had passed since Clarke kissed her way up her back, but it had been at least thirty minutes.
She'd always been a bit of a slow starter, perhaps the fault of her meds, but no one had ever really cared before. No one had ever really made sure she was fully primed and ready to go in the past, for a number of reasons Anya didn't really care to think about. Clarke, though, was more than content to take her time and work Anya up, and it was both novel and reassuring, on top of goddamn sexy, that the other blonde was so patient.
Honestly, Anya felt like she'd halfway ascended, with Clarke nestled up at her side. From the feeling of Clarke gently rocking against her hips, to the hand that worked her nipples to crests of pleasure only to ease off the throttle with some delectable focus on her stomach, to the arm wrapped behind her neck, angling her in for kissing, Anya cherished the slow build up Clarke was working her over with.
And Anya, well, she was all too happy to guide Clarke's hips against her, and let her other hand roam wherever Clarke needed it.
At least, until Clarke's hips bucked a little erratically for the third time in less than a minute. "Clarke..." She spoke as she took in a breath, capturing the other woman's attention quickly. "My thigh, hand, or mouth? Your choice."
Clarke just grinned and pulled herself and Anya up to a seated position. "This is just me getting my engine revving too, babe, so I'll take your thigh for now. Though I could use your mouth somewhere else..."
Anya rolled her eyes and shifted Clarke halfway onto her lap so her partner was straddling her thigh. She was all too happy to oblige, bringing Clarke's right breast into her mouth as she took hold of her lover's hips, caressing and guiding them, feeling dizzy with pleasure.
In the past, it'd all been easy enough, just doing as expected and going by rote memorization on what her partners wanted, but there in that cabin, she was supremely far out of her usual position, her body was thrumming like never before, and she was increasingly intoxicated by every sound that escaped Clarke's body, by every otherworldly movement of her lover. Clarke had always been a passionate woman, but it was as if that passion overtook every fiber of her being, and it left Anya breathless with desire and anticipation.
"Oh goddess, right...right there!" Clarke moaned, arching backward to give Anya a better angle to work with, not that she wouldn't gladly suffer a neck kink to hear those words again. "C-close..."
Anya swirled her tongue around the nipple, letting her teeth graze it before she pulled away. If Clarke was going to climax, she wanted to watch it happen, watch the beautiful blonde unravel. Maybe that was selfish, but she'd make it up to Clarke soon.
"You're so beautiful..." The words escaped without her permission, but she could hardly will herself to care when a blissful smile spread across her lover's lips. Spurred on by the growing molten pit of arousal in her core, Anya reached up a hand to pull Clarke forward, close enough to kiss her, using her other hand to hold her lover by the small of her back. "Let go, darling."
All at once, Clarke's hips jumped up her thigh, Clarke let out a sharp gasp, and those sapphire eyes went wide as she'd ever seen them. Clarke's lips were on her before she could react, the woman's hips furiously grinding away at her as Clarke poured herself into Anya. She was all too happy to swallow her moans, to hold Clarke almost close enough for them to fuse; there was a fullness growing inside of her, warming her and rendering her nerves more and more electric the closer she grew to Clarke.
She'd never felt so naked and vulnerable in her life being used as an instrument of desire, but every press of lips, every stroke of her cheek, every hand that ran through her hair and pulled her close, it all told her that Clarke was the reason for it, that Clarke saw her, knew her.
That she was safe, in that moment, as Clarke's head fell back, a sharp cry escaping her mouth as her hips jolted against Anya. The climax rolled through her lover head to toe, all seizing muscles and soft cries as Anya held her close and slowly worked her through it.
It was a nurturing feeling, if Anya were to be honest, holding Clarke and aiding her through the orgasm, murmuring sweet words into her lover's ear, combing a hand through her hair, fluttering kisses against her face.
Sex had never felt like that before. Leading a partner to orgasm had never felt like that before. Her heart had never felt as full as when she felt Clarke in her arms, falling into climax and trusting her to hold her together. Her soul had never felt so light at the feeling of Clarke clinging to her like a lifeline, Anya's name the only word leaving her lover's lips for that brief minute or two.
If this was just a precursor, as Clarke asserted earlier, then Anya was entirely unprepared, but willing to have her mind blown, because if it meant more of these feelings, more closeness with Clarke, more delightful sounds and sensual touches, then she wasn't sure she'd ever leave the bed again.
"I'd almost feel...embarrassed that a...single goddamn word from you...could make me come, but..." Clarke spoke as she worked to catch her breath, Anya more than a little confused over what the beautiful blonde was going on about, but more than happy to give her time to speak her mind. "...but I swear, baby...I just really want you to call me that again. I don't care what it takes."
Anya leaned back enough to meet Clarke's gaze, trying to decipher the meaning of the woman's words. "You don't have to beg for anything with me, Clarke, but what word are...wait...'darling'?"
She watched Clarke visibly melt as the word filled the air, and knew that she couldn't deny it to her lover if she tried. "Definitely that one."
"Then it's yours, Clarke. And..." Anya started, only to remember the other thing she'd brought in her luggage that she'd considered bringing out if all went well. And despite it all being mostly foreplay so far, Anya was certain that it was right to offer her lover another option. "...and I have something for you."
Anya went to get up, but Clarke promptly threw her body weight at Anya and held her flat down on the mattress. "Easy there. I don't want you leaving this bed 'til you're satisfied. You got my motor purring, I can get whatever you need me to get."
With an amused roll of her eyes, she pointed to her luggage. "Wooden box in my luggage. Can you bring it to me?"
Clarke leaned down, meeting her in a languid kiss that had her heart soaring before her lover was rolling off the bed and striding to her luggage. Clarke didn't need long to recover it, plopping down beside her a few seconds later. "What's in it?" Her lover asked, looking at the featureless box for some way to open it.
Anya took hold of it and pressed a hidden spot on the box, unlocking it and cracking open the lid. She pulled out both items inside, the clear glass flask full of a translucent liquid, and the larger leather bag. "I was taught how to make this some time ago. I don't use it very often, but it can be wonderful. I want to share it with you."
Clarke looked over the two objects as Anya set the box on the floor at the end of the bed. "What is it?" The woman asked, tugging on Anya's arm until she clambered up onto Clarke's lap.
"The liquid in the flask was made with transmutation magic." Anya started, Clarke's attention immediately shifting away from the flask and to her eyes; that form was rare, so it was understandable that Clarke was intrigued. "Essentially, it's a very minor spell, which is why I can manage it despite not having an affinity. I suppose my abilities are close enough in alignment for me to be capable. But anyways, it alters the nerves of whatever it touches."
"How so? Like does it..." Clarke started, before her eyes grew wide as saucers. "No way."
Anya just laughed, lightly bonking her forehead against Clarke's and leaving it there. "Maybe this is heavy, but I've never felt like this before, Clarke. I've never felt so cared for in this sort of thing, and...all I know is that every bit of pleasure I feel, I'd like you to feel it with me. This can help with that...but only if you want to use it. I won't ask you to, or demand you to, or anything...I'm just offering."
"Baby, at this point, I think I'd wait as long as I had to for you, so if you think this could make us feel closer, and that's what I want...and that's what you want...then of course I will. You're kinda the best, okay?" Clarke asked rhetorically, but Anya couldn't quite manage to contain her scoff.
Clarke immediately pulled her into a kiss that had her feeling weightless and had those resurfaced insecurities running for cover, loving the way Clarke's nose nuzzled against her own ever so slightly as she pulled away to approach at another angle, adoring how the pads of Clarke's fingertips would gently trail down the curve of her jaw like she was drinking her in.
"Nothing but sweet sounds and confidence, okay? You're not the only one in uncharted waters, Anya. I haven't felt comfortable being in a relationship for a long time...it's all just been one night flings, and I just...I don't get that feeling here with you." Clarke stated, eyebrows rising as if to challenge her to deny that claim.
"This doesn't feel like a one night stand. This feels...more." Anya admitted with a hard swallow, finding some confidence in the way Clarke's smile just beamed up at her.
"Then believe me when I say you're the best I've had already. I've never felt this close to someone, and goddess, at the same time I just feel like there's so much more ground to cover between us, and I want us to cross it together." Clarke said, voice shaking ever so slightly as she took Anya's hand and placed it over her heart. Anya could feel the organ thrumming wildly in Clarke's ribcage. "I'm so excited, and scared, and over the moon happy, and I'm so ready for this as long as you're here to hold my hand."
Anya leaned close and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lover's lips, lingering there as she stroked a hand down Clarke's blushing cheek, and took Clarke's right hand with her other. "I am. I will."
"Then why don't you show me how to work this?"
As much as Clarke loved Anya's laughter, she couldn't help but keep her focus on her hand, marveling at the sensation even as she blushed from the sound that left her lips a mere few seconds ago.
"The look on your face is priceless, Clarke!" Anya added between laughs, and she honestly imagined it was, because there truly was nothing like feeling a jolt of arousal from rubbing your thumb and fingertips together.
It was one thing to imagine what it might be like, but an entirely different magnitude to feel it for real. "This is so weird. So...what did you use this for, again?"
"Mostly to ramp up quicker than usual. It can take me over half an hour to get going, normally, but with this, that time's cut down by a decent chunk. I'll put some on a finger or two, dip them in melted chocolate or maybe icing, and get to licking. But it can be nice if I'm fingering myself, too." Anya explained as she laid herself back on the bed, tugging Clarke to straddle her. This substance of hers opened the door to so many possibilities, a mass of them flooding Clarke's mind over how to use something like that.
Maybe it was a little egregious as far as a sex aid, but it did seem handy. Pun absolutely intended.
"Mmmmmn, and if I'm giving you a hand job?" Clarke asked, bringing their knit hands to her lips as she held Anya's mirthful gaze.
"Never experienced it. But I promise, you'll know how it feels when I do." Anya answered with a broad grin, bringing her leg up and using her heel to pull Clarke atop her, skin on skin. "And honestly? I've got a good feeling about it."
Clarke laughed and dipped down for a quick kiss, loving the way that Anya wrapped around her however she could. For such a fearsome warrior, she was damn adorable. "Don't let go?" She murmured as she pulled away. The tremendous warmth in Anya's eyes had her knowing her lover wouldn't fail her.
She took a deep breath, excited to get this started and to keep growing this thing between them. Carefully, she shifted to Anya's side, pressing fleeting kisses to her partner's jaw as she reached down, gave a quick glance to check her instincts, and then let her forefinger and middle finger slowly glide up Anya's slick folds.
By the time she'd neared the clitoris and rendered it exposed, Clarke was breathless, body buzzing and stunned from the sensation. Certainly a bit more sensitive than rubbing her fingers together, she'd have to get used to it. "Oh my goddess, babe..."
"Is it too much?" Anya asked, sounding worried. As if there was anything to worry about.
"Nah, not at all, just unexpected. Between this thing, and getting to feel you for the first time, I...I'm really excited, and I just need a moment." Clarke answered swiftly and with as much assurance as she could channel into her voice.
That seemed to be enough, tension leaving Anya's body. "Take your time, darling, I'm not going anywhere."
The use of the d-word only compelled Clarke to rub her thumb just around the edge of Anya's clit, cheering internally at the sight and feel of Anya's hips arching into her touch. "Maybe you're not going anywhere, but I'd really like you to come with me."
Anya's head fell back with a dull thump against the mattress, another glorious laugh escaping her lover. "That's so fucking cheesy!"
"Don't lie, you like it." Clarke shot back with a grin, giving Anya's core one more quick swipe as she gathered as much oxygen as she could. Just the sensitivity of her fingers on Anya's vulva was doing a number on her, ratcheting her arousal up notch by notch with each touch. Something told her she wouldn't be too pleased with her stamina over the next little while.
Hopefully Anya wouldn't be too embarrassed for her.
Clarke reached for the lube, applying a bit to her fingers in prep of what she knew would be an entirely new experience for her. Let it never be said Clarke Griffin was a coward.
"Clarke..." Anya's voice brought her attention to her lover, the sheer reverence making her heart tremble in her chest from the pure heat the word had cascading through her body. "I trust you."
Teeth firmly pressing against her lower lip, Clarke gave Anya a small nod and decided to go for it, plunging two fingers into Anya.
Clarke gasped alongside her lover, arching a little from the feeling of Anya's walls around her digits. For a brief moment, being engulfed in Anya, feeling very intimately and intensely every single muscle spasm against her fingers, even the hardness of the nearby butt plug, took her focus.
But just for a moment.
Clarke caught her breath, adjusted to expectations, and pulled out slowly, recalling Anya preferred a more sensual approach up front, and she was all too happy to employ that. Just feeling Anya wrap around her had Clarke wanting to be closer, as close as she could get. It was only made more fortunate, knowing that if the sensations from her hand kept up then she wouldn't be able to be upright; resting against Anya while she pleasured her was best for the both of them, and would give Anya plenty of access to her.
Clarke set a languid, steady pace, working her fingers at Anya's upper wall as her thumb rolled at the edge of her lover's clit, getting close enough to build her up, but not so much to jolt Anya towards an unexpectedly quick orgasm. She wanted to take her time, pulling Anya into a quick kiss before trailing her mouth across her jaw and down her neck, kissing and nipping and licking her way to Anya's pulse point.
Maybe it was just instinct, maybe it was that rare territorial side of herself coming out to play, maybe it was how the overwhelming pleasure from each thrust of her hand was slowly sending her into a blissful haze. Whatever the reason, some signals in her brain must have crossed because after nipping a delightful spot on Anya's neck and hearing her let out a delighted mewl, Clarke found her lips latching onto her neck and sucking for all she was worth.
The last time she'd given someone a hickey was in high school, so she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as she hastily pulled away, words already at the tip of her tongue as her brain worked at formulating some apology. But then a hand was pressing at the back of her skull, pushing her face back into Anya's neck, a throaty whine rumbling out of her lover.
"Please...darling..." Anya spoke in gasps, her lover's hand shakily and slowly combing through her hair, adding enough pressure to let Clarke know she was wanted there, not that the words alone didn't immediately have her heart racing and body buzzing.
Clarke dipped forward the half inch to press a kiss at the base of Anya's neck, letting her lips linger as she soaked in how Anya's legs gripped her tightly. She could feel a minor tremor of pleasure run through Anya's body from her neck all the way to her toes. "Tell me what you need, baby..." She murmured, slowing the pace of her thrusts enough so that she could be sure to recognize an answer past the heady pleasure buzz and the sensation of her arousal dripping onto the toweled bed.
"More of that...more...and faster, just...mmmnh...just a bit, please..." Anya laboured, stirring those long dormant and contained urges she'd always done well to hold in check.
Quickening the pace of her thrusts was easy enough, having mostly adjusted to the feeling of Anya's magic serum. She didn't have to keep herself from a premature climax anymore, at the very least, even if she was closing in on that ledge little by little. But indulging in something she'd warded herself off of had her feeling both enticed and cautious.
"Anya...pretty sure you can't magic away a hickey." Clarke noted hesitantly, applying just enough pressure to get Anya to release the hold on her head. She needed to look Anya in the eyes for this; even if it wasn't a big thing for most, she had a hard time stopping that particular sort of instinct once she'd gained enough headway. "Baby, I just don't want to do anything you'll regret later."
Her lover immediately reached down and stilled the hand between her thighs, and if Anya didn't already have her complete attention, she certainly had it now. "I'm not ashamed of this, Clarke."
Clarke let out a huff, anxiously trying to find the right words to describe her predicament, and mostly failing at her attempts. "It's...I mean...I know you're not, it's...well, a lot of people don't like them. And I mean....I'd be marking you. And I haven't done that in forever, because...well, once I start, I have a hard time stopping, and I don't want to freak you out with all the possessive junk that comes with it, and I'm just..."
Honestly, there were at least another hundred words left in her rambling, but feeling Anya take hold of the hand that Clarke had buried between her thighs, and slowly lift it out and up, up, all the way to her lips, a breath away from Anya's mouth? That killed all those leftover words, and she doubted she'd mourn their passing.
"Darling, hush. You're over-thinking this..." Anya started, eyebrow cocking at the tiny scoff that escaped her over the assertion. "I'm serious. What, do you think I'd balk at the notion of you getting possessive over me?"
Clarke shrugged, not quite having revived her vocabulary yet. "Most people get freaked out, given my affinity and all. Last one really didn't like it, and practically threw me out."
"And I'm not that person. You need to stop second-guessing yourself, stop presuming you know what I want better than I do. Just listen to me, Clarke...I'll always let you know what I like and what I don't. And if you're comfortable being...well, possessive...with me tonight, then let's see where that goes. It's not a hard or soft limit for me." Anya clarified, the amused crinkling of her eyes just barely warning Clarke in time as Anya's soft tongue blazed a trail up her hand, sending an intense ripple of pleasure down her spine.
She was already soaked, but she could feel a fresh rush of arousal, both from the lick and the notion of Anya accepting her, not to mention the vulnerability involved. Still, she waited until she caught her breath again to make one final argument, to make sure Anya knew where she was coming from.
"I just...I guess you've been treated like an object by other partners, and I wouldn't want to do the same to you. You deserve better. You're a person. You're not something I can, you know, have or claim for myself." Clarke said, eyes half-lidded and head feeling hazy as Anya took one of her digits into her mouth, tongue swirling around it. "Goddess, if you keep doing that, I won't last long, baby."
"I don't care how long you last. One, two, twenty orgasms...whatever we feel like. I just want to spend the night with you, I want us to enjoy ourselves. So...if it makes it easier for you...as far as I'm concerned, I'm yours tonight. And you're mine. Doesn't mean you own me...just means I'm sharing myself with you. I trust you to take good care of me, darling." Anya spoke, flicking her gaze between Clarke's hand and her eyes, before settling on the latter. "And if you want to suck at my neck, if you want to say I'm yours, or any of that...I'm good with it. I'm not scared, I trust you."
Clarke gulped, heart hammering in her chest, yearning to break out and find Anya's. Ever since her affinity had been made known, everyone she'd dated had been wary and generally unwilling to be vulnerable with her. Even if she'd insist that she could only control people after casting, most still suspected that she could influence and manipulate thoughts and emotions on a more subtle level, so it was rare for anyone to be really open with her. It was why she adored her friendships with Lexa and Costia, who did trust her.
So Anya willingly opening up to her and trusting her? Wanting to share herself, even after everything they'd been through, even after experiencing firsthand what Clarke was capable of? It had her breathless and yearning to just hold onto this magnificently strong woman. Everything in her soul was screaming at her to make love to Anya, to take her to such heights where Clarke's name would be the only intelligible sound spilling from her lips, to pepper kisses across her blushing face as she came down from her final climax, to wrap her up in the afterglow and maybe carry Anya to the shower if her lover needed or requested it.
And maybe that was getting ahead of herself, but it wasn't bad to have some goals at the ready for the rest of their night.
"Then let's get back to making this a night to remember, baby."
3 notes
·
View notes