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Caravaggio Chapter 1 - One Touch at a Time

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"You're joking."

In the silence that follows Clarke's words, she finds herself torn between a sort of abject horror, and an incredulous disbelief that almost has her laughing aloud.

She just can't believe it. Finn could be dumb, but he's never been this dumb before. He's more like 'forgot to add soap into the dishwasher' and 'accidentally used salt instead of sugar in the recipe' dumb, not 'I hired a sex worker for a threesome without talking about it with you first' idiotic.

"Finn. Tell me you're joking."

He shakes his head, a wide smile stretching across his face that doesn't quite meet his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair, betraying his uncertainty.

"It's not a joke, it's a surprise. It's an anniversary gift."

"Our anniversary was last week."

"Yeah, and it—" Finn cuts himself off with a sharp exhalation, looking away. Clarke bites the inside of her cheek and drops her gaze too, because despite the rage building in her chest, there's a touch of guilt there, too.

They've only been together for a year. They'd met through a dating website, and had found a welcome change in the other; on an app that normally centered around random hookups, they'd each found a person equally interested in settling down. They were both single in their thirties, Clarke because she's just put everything into her career for the last decade and hadn't had time for serious relationships; Finn because he'd spent the last several years enjoying life as a divorced single dad. He'd had a kid young, and now that the kid was off to college, the empty nest was lonely.

They'd hit it off right away on their first date, and they'd followed all the steps. A first date out to dinner ending with a kiss, a second date out dancing ending with a longer kiss, a third date at Finn's place where he cooked for her and then she stayed over; a fourth at Clarke's, where she showed him her art and they discussed life. Soon enough they had spare toothbrushes for one another at their places, and most evenings were spent cuddling and watching reruns of old tv shows.

Until about a month or two ago, when the spark dulled and turned stagnant.

It wasn't anything they could have done about it; it had just run its natural course. That was beyond evident last week, when after their dinner celebration of one year, they hadn't even managed to have sex. The river ran dry and the mountain wouldn't rise, so to speak.

Clarke had actually come here today with the intention of breaking up. Not because of the sex, mind. But because she knows Finn isn't the person for her. She thought he was meant to be a friend, but after pulling this stunt, she's not so sure.

She propels to her feet, grabbing her things, and Finn rises in a panic.

"I thought this would help!"

"Help what?" She shoots him an incredulous look as she shoves her phone in her jacket pocket. "How could this possibly help anything?"

"I thought it could spice things up and—and be a new experience to share together. Listen, after our last date I knew we had to do something. The woman's going to be here any minute, and—"

"And that's not my problem! I can't believe you thought hiring someone was the right decision, oh my God. We couldn't even do the normal thing where we find someone at a bar? Jesus!"

"It can't just be some random person who could tell someone about this! We needed a professional. Not just because she knows what she's doing, but because she knows it's private and she can't talk about it with anyone."

"I don't care! This is insane. You didn't even talk to me about this beforehand."

"Because I knew you wouldn't even consider it!"

"And that didn't tell you anything?! What the fuck, Finn! No, that's it, we're done. I can't—"

She pulls open the door and for a single suspended heartbeat, the world just…stops spinning.

There's an absence of sound where there shouldn't be. Finn lives near a park, so it's always busy with people chatting, walking their dogs, riding their bikes. Clarke can't even hear their footsteps as they walk past their street. All she can do is stare at the woman standing on the porch wrapped up in a fucking trench-coat. Her face is…God. It's fucking gorgeous. Bone structure Clarke would kill to feature amongst the art models she once worked with on a daily basis. A jawline sharp enough to cut, and lips full and pouty enough to mend. Beautiful eyes that seem to glitter in the flickering porch light. Rich, voluminous curls of hair tumbling over her shoulders.

Clarke stares at the woman. The woman stares at Clarke. Then she tilts her head, and those bee-stung lips part, a tongue peeking out to wet them before a voice asks, "Is this the Collins' residence?"

Fuck. Even her voice is beautiful. Somehow softer and more feminine than Clarke expected, even with being somewhat deepened from an accent.

Clarke's mouth is so dry; she can't speak. Words die in her throat. All she can do is stare, clutch the door frame, and try not to sway on her feet.

"Yes! Yeah, this— you're in the right place." Finn's arm stretches over Clarke's head to grip the door, opening it wider to indicate the woman can come in, but she doesn't move.

"May I see some identification, first?"

"Oh, yeah, one sec."

Clarke is still just standing there, speechless, wide eyes fixed on the woman. The woman's gaze snaps from where Finn is fumbling for his wallet in the jacket hung up on the hook behind the door to Clarke, and it's like an electric current runs down her spine at the eye contact, even if it does break briefly as the woman's gaze runs the length of Clarke's body, tracing her curves before locking onto her eyes again. It's so intense Clarke has to look away, heat crawling up her neck to flush her face. She doesn't look up again until Finn has stepped near to hand over his driver's license.

The woman examines it before she pulls her phone out, types something, and then locks it and slips it back into her pocket again before she returns the ID to Finn. It must be a security measure with the company she works for, Clarke assumes dazedly. She imagines it's gotta be a risky business. But Jesus, if there was anyone made for it…

How is it humanly possible to be so goddamn attractive? The woman is staring at her again, and Clarke's whole body seems to glow with the heat of her furious blush. She vaguely worries the woman can feel the heat emanating from her, especially when she nods and steps inside, passing closely beside Clarke as she enters the room. Clarke isn't sure who has more nervous energy, herself or Finn, as he closes the door and shuffles a few steps forward after the woman, rubbing his palms over the sides of his jeans.

The woman turns to face them, and air departs Clarke's lungs again.

"So, uh, how does this work?" Finn clears his throat; Clarke blanches as he says, "Do we just…start?"

"I told you I don't work with men," the woman says sharply, those eyes somehow much cooler when leveled on Finn. "You did mark your acknowledgement in the contract, but I require verbal confirmation as well."

Finn raises his palms in surrender. "Yeah, no, no problem. I'm just watching. I won't touch you."

The woman nods. Those intense eyes shift back onto Clarke. "And I have your consent, as well?"

Clarke still just stares. She's so fucking hot. What is that accent? Vaguely Eastern European, but she can't place it.

She jolts when Finn nudges her. "Oh! Um. I, uh…" she flounders. No, she didn't consent to this shit at all, and she'd technically just told Finn they were over. But…

But holy fucking shit, this woman was…

If sex could walk. I mean. Jesus fucking Christ.

Finn did already pay her. It would probably be rude to dismiss her now, right?

"I, uh…yeah. I consent."

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idea of apple thing is by @/ triedkiss

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no you don't understand, attempted murder IS the most romantic expression of love

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Wanheda's Dagger Week Themes

The votes are in and so are the themes! Thank you to everyone who voted! Along side the themes there will be two free days in case none of the themes call to you!

For any o the days you can share you can share your writing, art, moodboards, ideas or a recommendation list! You can also open your inbox to prompts or suggestions or look through the prompts sent here under #prompts for some ideas! Feel free to also update any previous fic that fits the theme!

- Day 1 (22 Sept) Wanheda Has Risen

All about canon Clarke!

- Day 2 - (23 Sept) Oh my god they were roommates

Lexa and Clarke are roommates, what could possible go wrong?

- Day 3 - (24 Sept) Free Day

Post as you please!

- Day 4 - (25 Sept) MILF/DILF

Hot older moms, loud kids, and a lot of sexual tension

- Day 5 (26 Sept) Alpha!Clarke

Knots, mating marks and sex, oh my!

- Day 6 (27 Sept) Masc!Clarke

A day to write Clarke as butchy as you please!

- Day 7 (28 Sept) Free Day

Post as you please!

Remember to tag #wanhedasdaggerweek25 on your post has well has #wdw25dayX (x - number of the day you're posting) for easier organization!

[clexaa-daily]

Clarke & Lexa's first kiss

THE 100 (2014 - 2021) · S02, E14: Bodyguard of Lies — directed by Uta Briesewitz

[clexaa-daily]

Jealous Lexacoon Part 2

“You can’t just kill everyone you don’t trust are jealous of!”

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Clarke + blinking the gay thoughts her love for Lexa away. [3x04/ 3x07]

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"They tried to kill eachother!!" oh my godddd that was only a couple of timessss and they were literally flirtingggg shut uppppp

[clexaa-daily]

Wanheda's Dagger Week 2025 Themes

Hello everyone! This year's Wanheda's Dagger Week will come a bit later but it will come non the less!

As such, this year will be made out of 5 themed days chosen by all of you and 2 free days to post whatever your hearts desire! To ensure everyone gets a saying, please answer the form below!

As there are two sections for creatives and readers, if you plan on being both, please select creative!

Thank you guys for getting this little project alive 🗡🩷

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Medusa and the Blind Woman

Act V

~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~~~~◇~~~~~~

Every one of Lexa's kicks has them rocking together in the sway of the sea, and the warmth of Clarke's body wrapped around her sends a shiver down Lexa's spine; their noses sat inches apart, lips only a little further.

Each puff of breath that fans her skin feels hotter than the sun in spring.

Clarke is so close she can see every bit of her. Lexa takes the freedom to let eyes drift across the expanse of Clarke's face in gentle sweeps. She sees the blonde that runs through her eyelashes and the spray of freckles that dust the slope of nose. Studies the specific shade of pink that reminds her of the wild bloom of a rose. The dip of Clarke's chin looks so delicate this close, like it's a space meant to be kissed there. The way that tiny beauty mark dots her lips just so…

But it's her eyes that make Lexa's heart beat a rhythm all of its own, it's staccato wildly out of sync with the lazy rhythm of the waves.

Clarke's eyes up close are breathtaking. Something ethereal. Otherworldly. As though Aphrodite herself had scooped little pools from the sun-soaked heavens and gifted them to this woman; electric blue and filled with the white stratus of drifting clouds.

It aches to know how long Clarke had trained herself to not show these wonders to the world. How she'd been mocked and made to feel ashamed of the clouded lacquer of their blue. She stares and stares and stares at the little tears the litter the irises. As though the inner galaxies that lay beyond blue heavens were too grand to be contained.

She can't make herself move when Clarke's eyes turn hooded as she shifts closer in her arms. 

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Tarnished but so grand

Clexa au

Chapter 56

Lexa has a couple of unexpected visitors, ones she is not happy to see, and Clarke gets to meet some important people in Lexa's life. We also see Lexa reflecting on her last night at home with Michael.

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fic playlist || all songs for fic || fic timeline || pinterest board

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Shhhh, the episode ended here.

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[clexaa-daily]

Medusa and The Blind Woman

Act IV

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So lost in her thoughts of the present and past, Lexa nearly startles when Clarke's hand drops to her side and traces her palm over the curve of Lexa's thigh, until she finds Lexa's hand, and covers it with her own.

Lexa's eyes snap downward and stare at the paleness of Clarke's knuckles. At the freckle that dots her thumb. The gentleness of such a delicate hand giving away no hint of how her touch scorches across Lexa's skin; the way it prickles up her arm and wriggles itself across her scalp in pleasant waves.

She's not sure when she last drew breath as Clarke shifts closer, threading her fingers through Lexa's own.

"I promise you, Lexa," Clarke says with a squeeze of her hand, "whatever happened with Costia… You are not someone easily forgotten."

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clarke and lexa are in love and i am in pain 

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Sleepy Elaina and her stuffed raccoon ft clexa mommas