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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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Clexa Proposal

Prompt: Canon clexa proposal. [AN: I added my own spin: Clarke jumped in front of the bullet and was rushed back to Arkadia's medical bay. Lexa follows through the dead of night to ask the Chancellor the most important question the Heda has ever asked.]

Can be found below and also on Ao3 here.

Song: Cassandra Dies — DW.

The room was vibrating, it hummed with a little noise that was unfamiliar to the commander's ears, shivers ran through her spine and she wondered whether it was a skaikru trick or the ghosts of brethren lost here. The bright light hurt her eyes and so she winced and kept them closed, she ran her tongue over her bottom lip and licked the taste of iron and salt and stretched the gnawing muscles in her neck.

"That," Lexa wiped the blood from her lip, "Is punishable by death." she eyed Abby who shook and heaved in front of her like a wild animal, the responsible fist trembling with the rest of her.

"Let's not do anything rash." Kane stepped between them entirely too late, "Heda, we are grateful you came to consult with us first." he handed her a handkerchief to stem her split lip.

"Consult with us?" Abby's eyes narrowed and her voice was shrill. "How would you feel if it was your daughter being used as a bargaining chip? She is lying in a hospital bed lucky to be alive. If anything had happened..." Abby clutched her chest at the thought and it didn't need saying out loud.

"Clarke is—"

"Don't." Abby raised her finger at the young commander and she was powerless, victim to a mother;s wrath. "I bet you've never had to ask permission for anything in your whole life. The answer is no. I'm not selling my daughter to a warlord... even if it is the price of peace." she sneered and crossed her arms.

"I remind you that this is a skaikru tradition." Lexa stepped forward, "Once she is strong, I am free to formally ask Clarke with or without your permission." there was a little raise of her brow and it was intended as a challenge.

"I just got my daughter back." Abby's voice betrayed herself and she pointed her finger right at Lexa. "I was in space and—and she came to the ground and ever since then she was too busy saving people to even notice I'm around and I have just gotten her back from all of that." her chest heaved with the weight of it all and Abby couldn't contain it, palpable as it was, it choked the room and left it devoid of everything but her burden. "So no, Lexa. You don't get to ride in here on horseback with your army and make my daughter fall in love with the idea of you. The strong, beautiful warlord who will whisk her away from this life and keep her people safe. It's a lie and you know it."

"You are wrong, Chancellor Griffin." Lexa glared and chewed and huffed and suffered it all magnificently. "I will give my last breath to keep her people safe, because when we are wed, her people will become my people."

"So this is political? Just a formality to quell a potential uprising against us becoming the thirteenth clan?" Kane nodded and tried to make these things easier to swallow, though it was a losing battle.

Lexa sneered and nodded her head, like an actress, a thespian at the most crucial part of the play, she made pretense of her indifference to such false accusation and colluded in Kane's efforts. Clarke was the sea and the sun and the moon and the wind, and she… she was just basking in the glow of it all, and so she would eternally without need or want to explain her truest motives to anyone, not even Clarke.

"Clarke is uniquely positioned to be of high enough station to wed. She is a brave warrior, respected and knowledgeable on the customs and politics of both our people, she will be an excellent advisor to offer me counsel and there is much to gain from such a union… she would be protected for the rest of her life." Lexa forced the rehearsed speech she'd prepared the entire ride here out of her chest. "Clarke and I, we could make a mark on the world."

"Do you not see how that makes what you're asking even worse?" Abby clenched and balled her hands, her teeth grinding into a crescendo of frustration. "She took a bullet from one of your closest advisors and nearly got herself killed, and you come here to talk to us about politics! You should be begging our forgiveness, not asking for favours. You don't deserve her love, Commander."

"You think I don't know that!" Lexa shook though she did her best to stand taller, "If you think," Lexa chuffed on her own disbelief for a moment and held it right there, looking at the ceiling and off to the vents for a tiny bit of respite. "If you think she could ever be so ordinary, so human, so beneath her duty to love someone like me then you haven't the slightest idea of who she is!" she paused and felt the truth of it simmer her skin and set her insides alight. "I love her and that much is true, but loving Wanheda, it's like admiring a sunset or loving the stars themselves, you don't expect nor do you ask them to love you back." her teeth gnashed and she did well to stop her eyes betraying the whimpering wild thing inside of her chest that shook at the mere thought of loving Clarke in the truest, purest form of the word.

"I don't have much to give... but I can give her my title, I can protect her for the rest of her life and take care of her people and I want nothing in return. I want to marry her so that she may experience all the joy the world can give her, not so I can be the joy at the centre of her world."

"It's you who needs protecting… not me." a voice wheezed.

Clarke was there and ethereal and furiously alive and she did it all with a perfected poise that left Lexa breathless. Though she limped and ached, the sky clung to her with all its might, her skin was scrubbed clean and her hair was combed out and skaikru wires burrowed beneath the skin of her arm pumping drugs to where she needed them the most.

"Clarke, get back in bed!" Abby span on her feet and shooed her back like a mother over its duckling.

"Just—relax, Mom." Clarke shrugged her off and held her ground.

"Your mother is right, you should rest." Lexa deflated, pawing the back of her neck and barely looking in her direction. "I demand it."

"Since when did you argue with the sunset?"

"Clarke..." Lexa pouted and shot her a warning glance.

"Or the stars themselves?" Clarke stifled a grin.

" Shof op ." she whispered, tame and quiet.

"It's been a stressful day for everyone. Commander, I will have a room prepared for you. Please stay as our guest and we can all talk tomorrow when tensions aren't running as… high." Kane insisted.

"I will stand guard at Clarke's door." Lexa chuffed before faltering under Abby's acute stare. "...If I may?" she quickly corrected herself.

"You may." Abby cautiously nodded before taking Kane's arm to give them some privacy. "She has to rest." she leaned in close to Lexa and though there was a grit and a reluctance to her, this was a start, a common ground they both shared.

"You rode all the way here? It must have taken you at least two days." Clarke wheezed and clung to the pretense that she was above the gnaw of the pain that ate at the gunshot wound in her gut. Lexa knew better. She took precisely three steps to close the distance between them and with that she wrapped her arm around her waist and bore her weight and took her back to bed.

"I rode all the way here." Lexa swallowed and somehow kept the fibres of herself that threatened to fray woven together like a tapestry that existed solely to tell their story. "I… you were worse for wear, I had to know you were okay, Wanheda."

"I'm okay, I'm right here." Clarke stopped in the corridor just before her door and grabbed Lexa's sinewed forearm. Her thumb ran in little concerned circles and it unravelled the tapestry.

"I was terrified." Lexa wept and Clarke could do nothing but take her in her arms. "I—I'm sorry, Clarke." she bit it back and tried to pull away.

"Don't you dare." Clarke whispered quietly, refusing to loosen her grip. "You're allowed to be weak in front of me, you don't have to be the commander when it's just us."

"I held you in my arms and I didn't think you were going to—" she took a deep breath and bit her lip. "I care for you so deeply."

"Don't ask me to marry you." Clarke chewed and lied, gently letting go of Lexa's arm. "I love you, Lexa. I love you and if anything ever happened to you, it would kill me... I can't lose another, I'm sorry." she whispered it like a secret.

"Have you ever felt so certain about something you would rest your life on it?" Lexa swallowed and stared with those giant green eyes that could cast back the river swell. "I held you in my arms, all bloodied, and I knew I would have traded my life for yours in an instant." she shook her head and bit her lip, "I'm not asking you to marry me for any convoluted political reason more than simply because I am girl who loves a girl and life is about more than just surviving."

"Don't ask me." Clarke stood tall and lifted her chin, trembling.

"I'm asking." Lexa stepped closer and took her hand. "Be mine, Clarke. Be mine not just to bring peace to your people or assure their place, do it because love is enough and your life is about more than just surviving too."

Clarke fell into her, knees weak and mouth hungry, their lips clashed and it was gentle and necessary. Her hands found the commander's cheeks and held them just so, with long soft ringlets caught in her fingers. "I don't just go around taking bullets for anyone." she gently scolded her and rolled her eyes.

"Don't ever do that again." Lexa shook and she was furious and in love, holding Clarke so gently like she was a beloved ragdoll that had been sewn back together.

"I'll marry you..." she wrapped herself tighter around the commander and whispered in her ear, "but you don't get to tell me not to go around jumping in front of bullets for the woman I love."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Lexa grinned bashfully into her shoulder and dipped her nose against the paper tunic, somehow it smelt of Clarke, of wild berries and summer and it was close enough to taste. Clarke didn't see, but she stood there and grinned right into her, maybe for little more reason than because she loved her impossible sky girl and whilst the world relied on things of stronger resolve, in that moment, fleeting as it may be, love was enough and it reigned supreme.

#clexa #clarke x lexa #herstoryforheda #clexa fluff #clexa proposal #canon clexa

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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prompt for flamekeepa if they'll take it... red/dorothy from OUAT during their first moon (smut? gp? not a must but i wouldnt say no!)

@fleimkeepa is on this. She doesn’t write hardcore smut but is happy to catch up with Once Upon A Time and write something.

#once upon a time #red/dorothy #inprogressfleimkeepa

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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Canon clexa proposal?

Of course! @fleimkeepa is on it.

#anon #clexa #inprogressfleimkeepa

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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Maria/Natasha (marvel) Netflix & cuddling

I will take this one. Question though, are we talking the slang for this or actually watching Netflix & cuddling.

-Psian

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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Planning Murder

So as a very small tribute to where I am from I have a special something in the story. Should be easily seen. Fandom: Swan Queen, completed by @psianamazonia

Both women were sitting down staring at the fire place with the sound of the tv in the background. Each one lost in thought over the last few years. They have been through so much and yet it still seemed the end of the day it was the same, the sheriff was at the mayor’s. That’s how it started and both seemed content with the fact that it would be the same until the end.

Regina and Emma were both free agents at this point. Hood had went back to his merry men and the woods. Regina was tired of it. She loved her comforts and living with him made her realize that. It was much easier this time around then it was the first time. She was able to see that her happy ending was already here. She was being accepted by pretty much everyone plus she had Henry, the two idiots, and Emma. She never thought this is were she would be but she did know that she was happy to be here. She looked over to Emma who seemed a bit more loss then she normally did.

Hook and her had called it quits because he was tired of being looked at like he was dragging everyone down. Emma tried to explain it was his own insecurities but he wouldn’t listen. She stopped to get something that would help with the break up but didn’t want to go home to her place. Her parents were there and she needed something more then a pep talk. She needed some realism and Regina was usually the one to give it to her.

Emma came in sat on the sofa setting down a batch of brownies and ice cream she picked up then told Regina about what happened. Regina stood leaving to get plates and spoons to eat their feelings away with. As she sat down on the sofa and started dishing out the desert she looked up at Emma whose attention was on the tv. Regina was evil but she never realized how evil others could be until she found a channel that gave some people one too many ideas; Investigation Discovery a.k.a. ID. She liked watching it because some of the things on there really made you question yourself and humanity. She could only imagine what would be on there if magic could be used.

She handed Emma her treat as they watched the show playing. Some man cheated on his wife and now she was getting even because she didn’t want to deal with a divorce. Each bite was gooey delight and put a small smile on Emma’s face. She knew this was a good idea. As the show ended another one came on about a crazy father who killed his kids because they didn’t want to marry forty year old men when they were eighteen.

“Do you usually watch this stuff Regina?” Emma asked after she swallowed another bite.

Regina was feeling very relaxed as she sat back in her couch, “Yes I do. Believe it or not it helps me remember why I’m not so much like that anymore."

Emma laughed, “Or your getting ideas."

Regina smirked, “Yes, dear, that too."

Emma laughed again as she set her empty bowl down. She grabbed a brownie and started eating it as she looked over at Regina, “I think that the only way that you would be doing anything like this again is if someone was trying to hurt Henry."

“Not just Henry.” Regina confessed without even a second thought. “You and your parents have come to mean something to me. This town is something that I created and I just want to see that it thrives."

Emma had a cocky look on her face, “Who would of thought Regina would win out in the end?"

“What do you?” Regina had set down her own empty plate to grab another brownie of her own.

“The Evil Queen is gone and Regina, the woman who everyone wanted a piece of, won. She has an ending she can be proud of.” Emma finished off her brownie as she looked back to the screen. Regina never thought about it like that. She knew she wasn’t the person she once was but Emma was right. Her younger self would be proud of who she was now and she just hoped that her father who fought so hard for her to see the light was proud of her as well. After all the brownies and ice cream were gone Emma was feeling a bit dizzy and loose lipped. She looked at Regina, “You know maybe I should think about doing something like this to Hook?"

Regina was surprised, “Why would you do that Emma?"

“He took a few years of my life. I fought to have him accepted. He broke up with me because I didn’t let him spread his wings and fly. I mean seriously dude I was there trying to get you to see you could fly. What the hell? I even let him hurt me so that he could feel better about himself."

That took Regina back, the great savor took shit because some low life pirate needed to feel better about himself. She knew he was bad but to do that to someone he supposedly loved, worthless. “You should never have to change yourself for someone to love you."

Emma sighed then smirked, “I know and I’m glad that I can move on but play along with me. I need something to get my mind off the hurt.” She started to feel hungry again. “Do you have something to munch on..Like chips or something?"

Regina started to move but felt her head spin a little. She wasn’t sure why but she decided she would be better off getting the supplies with magic. With a flick of her wrist the small table was filled with chips, dips, and anything that would be considered a munchie. “You’r wish is my command.” She replied with a smile.

Emma started laughing as she grabbed a bag and opened it, “So what do you think your majesty?"

Regina thought about it for a moment, “Depends, are we talking this world or the enchanted forest?"

“Let’s start with this world,” She said around a mouth full.

“This world hmmm?” Regina ate a chip and thought about how she would like to dispose of the pirate trash.

“I don’t want it bloody,” Emma replied, “I still feel something for the man."

“So poison then…Arsenic…Bleach,” She started laughing at herself.

“Yeah cause bleach will be easy to get him to drink,” Emma laughed at Regina’s idea.

“Now now savor we are just getting started,” Regina said as she felt her mouth getting dry. Another flick and her cider was on the table with a bottle of whiskey for Emma.

Emma’s eyes twinkled even though they were a little bloodshot, “You know me too well woman.” She cracked open the bottle and took a long swig from the bottle. “Isn’t there something that we could give him that wouldn’t be detectable in autopsy reports?"

Regina laughed, “Yes but where would the fun be in that? If I’m going to take a life I’m going to make a statement with it dear."

“So if you could do it any way at all what would you do?” Emma asked between swigs.

“If I could do it any way I chose,” She looked down then back at Emma, “Is torture allowed?"

Emma thought about it then decided she was tired of playing nice she had a dark side and this woman of everyone understood her and it, “Find torture is allowed. He just can’t stay alive for more than two days."

Regina rolled her eyes with a sighed, “Fine. Let’s see…Paybacks are a bitch. I would make him go through what Greg did to me and after a couple days I would put it on high and fry his brains."

“That actually sounds like it would be worth it. Lets see…Maybe find a way back to the enchanted forrest and a way to have an ogre take him.” Emma thinks about it with a smile on her face.

“Better yet make him feel like he is burning until he collapses from pain then poof he’s gone. Plenty of pain, less then two days, no mess.” Regina had a huge smile on her face.

“Nice,” Emma started laughed at the way Regina delivered the idea. Emma shook her head, “You know what? Maybe we should figure out who plays the Henry in our lives currently."

“What do you mean,” Regina set down her glass of cider.

“I mean who the author is of our lives. They did this to us.” Emma shoved a handful of chips in her mouth.

“Isaac has been stripped of his powers Emma. He can’t write anymore of our stories.”

“Come on Regina. He was locked away in a book for years and yet our stories were still full of crap. There has to be someone out there still writing them.” “Well right now I can’t complain too much but I would like to have Henry in charge because I can trust his judgement.” Regina’s face lit up at this realization.

“Me too,” Emma picked up her bottle, “To our son who has a better understanding of his responsibility then the assholes who have been writing ours.”

“Cheers to that,” They clicked their glass and bottle then went into a fit of laughter.

#Completedpsianamazonia #herstory for heda #OUAT #once upon a time #swan queen

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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A Small Imperfect Heart

Prompt request by @danvers-grant for a Clexa AU with single mom!Lexa and doctor!Clarke, filled by @flyingfanaticfics Also found on Ao3 here.

Aden breaks his arm at a soccer game and is rushed to hospital, where Doctor Griffin patches him up.

I have ideas to extend it in to a full fic if there's interest.

Lexa hates phone calls like this one.

The phone calls which highlight the stretched edges that she just cannot reach, no matter how hard she tries. All the little reminders that it no matter what, she is one person alone trying to do too much.

It was a full hour since Aden fell at his soccer game before Anya could get through to Lexa. Another twenty minutes desperately calling around to find someone who could take her shift. Sixteen minutes in a taxi with one hand tapping out a rapid beat on her leg before the hospital finally comes in to sight. Forty seconds to find the cash to pay the driver. Four minutes of staring at signs in order to find the right entrance.

To end up almost crashing in to the back of a doctor in the middle of reception.

“Wow, okay…” The doctor turns out to be solid enough to keep her feet but still seems stunned by the notion of random people barrelling in to her.

“I’m so so sorry are you okay?” Lexa pants, tense with the need to just leave this stranger and find Aden.

“I’ve had worse. I guess you’re in a hurry to see someone?”

“My son, he fell over at a soccer tournament and my cousin called, said he’d broken his arm…”

Lexa is trying to control the wavering note of panic threatening to creep in to her voice and terrified that she’s failing. Fortunately the blonde just breaks in to a smile.

“You’re Aden’s mother! He’s just through here; he’s pretty much ready to go.”

Aden’s perched on a high hospital bed, kicking his legs and engaged in animated discussion with Anya. When Lexa walks in his face splits in to a huge grin and he slips to the ground, somewhat more clumsily than usual, and runs over to her.

Warm and vibrant in her arms, Lexa has to choke back the tears she tells herself should not be cried over something so small. He’s fine, he’s safe and sound and happy, but she still cannot shake the desperate feeling of maybe. She meets Anya’s eyes over the small thin shoulder and her cousin just smiles and nods her head. This time, the worst did not happen.

So Lexa can distract herself, as she often does, by turning her attention over to Aden.

“So… the doctor tells me she’s put you back together almost as good as new.”

“Yeah she’s so cool and she’s been talking to me about soccer did you know she plays? Well I didn’t really talk much when we first came in but Doctor Griffin asked Auntie Anya a whole bunch of questions. And then they put me in this big vest like my hockey padding only heavier and I had to sit in this room on my own with my arm held all funny but Auntie Anya said it was important that I sit still even though you weren’t there so I did. And then Doctor Clarke put up all these pictures of the inside of my arm which was so cool and showed me where the break was. Then there was this weird stuff like a fishing net and padding like the inside of the wall and then the cast. And look Doctor Griffin signed it and drew a whole bunch of stuff.”

‘Doctor Clarke’ is standing just inside the door, smiling at Aden’s non-stop enthusiasm. For some reason, Lexa feels her heartbeat speed, but then Aden holds up his arm for inspection. The white cast is almost covered in intricate drawings. A wolf crawls up the seam as if the edge is a trail. Small figures kick a ball between themselves on the inside of his arm. A smiling, panting face of a retriever – Aden’s favourite type of dog – takes up most of the remaining space.

At the end nearest Aden’s wrist, the words “Clarke Griffin” are scrawled next to a small imperfect heart.

“Would you sign next to Doctor Griffin’s name, please Mom?”

Lexa takes the proffered pen and writes her name under the words. Their handwriting is very different, but somehow meshes well together. The hurried, tight doctor’s next to the gentle loops of her own name. It’s a tiny thing, but Lexa realises she’s probably been staring for a little too long and lifts her head.

“Thank you, Doctor Griffin.”

“Not at all, Aden’s been the best patient of the day.” Clarke’s voice is surprisingly genuine. Lexa lifts an eyebrow and gets and a hint of a grin in reply. Every job has the opposite of Aden to deal with, apparently. “Well Aden, we’ll take the cast off in about three months and have a look. I expect you’ll need a new one then. So you’ll have a whole new set of drawings. Anything you want, okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mon small fry, let’s get a drink.”

Anya grabs hold of Aden’s shoulders and steers him out of the room, catching Lexa’s eye with a knowing smirk on the way. It’s hard not to roll her eyes at her cousin trying to set her up with yet another woman she simply does not have the time of emotional space for.

Whether or not Clarke picks up on this, she scribbles her name and number on a card and hands it to Lexa.

“Just in case. Let me know how he gets on.”

When Lexa catches up with her son and cousin Aden is already brimming with excitement must be infectious, because Lexa definitely feels an extra little bounce to her step as they walk out of the hospital.

#clexa #clarke x lexa #clarke griffin #lexa #clexa fanfic #herstory for heda #single mom lexa #doctor clarke #fluff

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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sorry if this is a weird question, but are you guys currently accepting additional writers? i really like this idea and I'd love to help out.

yeah, absolutely! i’ll message you to get your info! - @cosima-phdhaus

#asks #mistyheartrbs

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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bring me the night

prompt: could you do a Clexa one where they're internet friends, or something similar idk, and meet each other for the first time? (filled by @cosima-phdhaus, who would like to say that you should all stop sending such good prompts because i want to turn them all into multi-chaps) song: bring me the night - sam tsui and kina grannis (if you want to increase your feels)

Clarke's fingers clattered across her keyboard, several tabs open in the background of iMessage. Yes, I'm working on my paper. I know more than I ever thought was possible about the treatment of systemic lupus erythematosus. The response was almost instantaneous.

I literally just saw you reblog a "tag urself" meme.

Clarke's head sunk to her chest as she laughed, hiding a blush that Lexa couldn't see from 3,000 miles away. She guiltily pulled up her paper, noting in the corner of the screen that she was three pages away from her assignment minimum. She minimized the document again to respond.

It isn't my fault that you're more interesting than my research paper.

She'd run across Lexa's blog three years earlier, when a post she'd made about the "bury your gays" trope went viral. While her intersectional feminist posts were a far cry from Clarke's mash of aesthetic photos and shit posting, a few messages asking for resources after Octavia came out as non-binary were all it took for a fast friendship to flourish. Links to websites turned to in depth discussions about bi-erasure, and now it was difficult to imagine the days before Lexa's snapchat notifications were the first thing she saw in the mornings.

Such a sweet talker Clarke. It was trivial compliments, even off handed comments that probably meant nothing, that meant the world to Clarke. She had an entire album on her phone dedicated to screenshots of her conversations with Lexa - little facts she always wanted to remember or moments she was sure she would never forget. There were her snapchat selfies, when she felt most beautiful, and just as many photos Clarke had snapped herself when Lexa wasn’t looking on Skype.

Okay, okay. I’m going to work on my paper now, for real. I turned on that tumblr blocking app you sent me so that I can’t reblog anymore memes. -_- Good night Lexa. Good night Clarke. Sweet dreams.

“Flight 307, from Los Angeles to Boston is now boarding.” Clarke quickly shut her laptop, tucking it safely into her carry on bag before tossing the backpack over her shoulder. Her paper wasn’t due for another two weeks.

She was exhausted. Every muscle in her body ached from being cramped in the same seat for five and a half hours. Each tendon screamed in protest as she trudged her way up the stairs toward an apartment she’d only been given a virtual tour of. Her stomach grumbled, and it only reminded her of the fact that she’d spent the past several months subsisting on not much more than noodles to save her money for the ticket that brought her here. Here being a dimly lit hallway with four doors, only one of which mattered.

I’m so tired. The bright light of her screen made her eyes squint even further, but she stared at the text conversation, waiting impatiently for Lexa’s reply. She knew it was coming. As heavily as Clarke slept, Lexa had admitted that she was the exact opposite. The vibration from a notification could wake her up from a deep sleep, and that was precisely what Clarke was hoping for. When three circles popped up on her screen, she let out a sigh of relief. Then go to sleep Clarke. Your paper will be waiting in the morning. She knocked. Three more circles. Clarke? She lifted her hand to knock a second time, but the door flung open before her knuckles could hit the wood. Lexa stood before her, in an oversized t-shirt and yoga shorts, barefoot and beautiful. “Clarke?” Her name sounded even softer when it wasn’t distorted by wifi connections that left something to be desired. Her eyes, hazy with lingering sleep, were searching Clarke’s face with fervor, and her expression was one of awe. “This isn’t a really elaborate dream, is it? You’re here, right? In Boston? In my apartment?” She wasn’t sure what meeting Lexa was supposed to feel like. She had always worried that it might be awkward, or uncomfortable, or that they wouldn’t find enough things to talk about. She had been sure that there would be a lot of laughter, to cover the silences. She had never imagined that it would feel warm, like sinking into a hot bath after a long shift at her clinic internship. She wouldn’t have dared think that it would be soft, like climbing underneath a pile of blankets to thaw out from the cold. She didn’t expect it to feel like she’d come home after years to a world that was familiar, yet somehow unknown.

“I’m here. In Boston. In your apartment.” Clarke didn’t expect Lexa to move forward, shifting the bag off of Clarke’s shoulder and wrapping her arms around Clarke’s waist. She wouldn’t have dared to imagine Lexa’s lips pressing against her mouth insistently, as if 3,000 miles had been enough distance and she couldn’t bear another inch. She had never imagined that she could fall in love with someone she’d never met, and yet there she was - standing in a relative stranger’s apartment with jet lag and a heart that had never felt so full. “So, how long are you staying?”

#clexa #the 100 #fanfic #modern day au #herstoryforheda #completedcosima-phdhaus

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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Ok so like stated I am kind of new to this kind of writing so if you have anything to help me improve just let me know. Otherwise I hope you enjoy.

Taking One for the Team

With the constant threat of doing the wrong thing Abby has been on edge since she was given the responsibility of Chancellor. She was wondering if she was the right choice but in the end it didn’t matter. She walked through Camp Jaha trying to do what she could but was starting to feel the stress of it all. She snaps at a few unsuspecting people when they come to her for what she deems needless help.

“You alright there Doc,” Raven walks up to Abby wanting to help her in any way she can.

Abby looks over at the young mechanic and smiles, “I’ve been better.” “I figured after you yelled at those soldiers back there,” Raven looked back towards them seeing that they were still trying to figure out what to do. Abby looked in the same direction and shook her head, “I really don’t understand how hard it is to find a solution to the scheduling. It isn’t rocket science.”

Raven laughs and replies, “Agreed and I know my rocket science.” Abby smiles at Raven’s joke and continues on looking around the camp trying to keep herself together. “You know Chancellor you should take a break. You have been all business since you took over and you need to focus on some yourself and relaxation. That is unless you want to take someone’s head off.” Raven puts up her hands as she finishes her statement.

Abby stops to look at her then shakes her head, “Am I that bad?” Raven nods her head. “I still have to check on the people who are in medical. After that I will go to my room and relax."

"Sounds like a good Idea. How long do you think that will take you,” Raven was trying to sound as if she was only asking because due to someone else’s needs.

“I guess it would take about an hour or so then I will go take a rest. I mean if that’s okay with you,” Abby gave Raven a smile that screamed sarcasm. Raven’s face lit up as she put up her thumbs and started backing away, “I guess it will have to do.”

Abby was walking through the steal corridors trying to stretch out her aching muscles. She had taken just over an hour to get through all her patients and was starting to feel it. She had to admit Raven was right, she needed a break. As she lifted her arms over her head and stretched she started of thinking of ways to relax.

When she rounded the corner she saw Raven leaning against the wall looking at her hands. “Do I need to be concerned about why you are waiting outside my room?”

Raven showed her teeth as she looked up from her hand, “Maybe just a little,” she gestured with her fingers.

Abby sighed then opened her door, “Well come in and lets get started.” Raven followed behind Abby closing and locking the door. Abby turned around and waited for Raven to start. Raven slowly took in the stressed woman and decided she would do everything she could to help Abby relax.

Without another thought she surged forward and kissed the older woman. At first Abby was too shocked to do anything. Her body went ridged and her heart started to pound. As she felt Ravens hands move over her body she started to relax. Then she started to return the passion she was receiving.

Raven moved Abby against a table then picked her up on top of it. She moved from Abby’s mouth to Abby’s neck. With quick movements she removed Abby’s thin shirt from her strong frame. Raven nipped her way from neck to chest as her hands moved to remove Abby’s bra. When the breasts were free she took her time on first the left then the right nipple. When satisfied at how erect they were she started moving her way back up Abby’s chest towards her exposed neck.

Abby for her part was just soaking the moment in. She hasn’t been touched in so long that she forgot how good it felt. She didn’t mind letting the young mechanic have her way for now at least. She moved her hands into the dark hair and held on tight. Her body on fire with the attention. Raven removed the Doctor’s remaining clothing so she could have her way with the wanting body. As Raven tossed the panties aside she slowly slid her hands up Abby’s legs. The skin felt like velvet as she moved from ankle to knee. She spread open the shapely legs to expose the glistening center. Taking a moment to inhale the older woman she kissed the inside of each thigh then the center. She stood and without warning pushed two fingers into Abby making the woman moan in pleasure. Abby wrapped her arms around Raven as the young mechanic started to pump hard. Raven moved her thumb so that as she went inside with a hard thrust the digit would message the clit at the same time.

The Doctor felt herself going towards the edge and wanted so badly to go over. She tried to relax into the rough pace but needed more to take her over. As if reading her thoughts Raven moved her head down and roughly bit Abby’s neck followed by gentle kisses. That is what sent her over. She screamed out as she felt her body relax with the pleasure. When Abby’s breathing was almost back to normal Raven removed herself and took a small step back and looked at the woman she had admired for so long.

Abby smirked at the mechanic and let out a chuckle, “Guess I had nothing to worry about.” Raven smiled and shook her head. “Just wanted to make sure the Chancellor was taken care of,” with a mischievous grin she added, “You know taking one for the team.”

Abby shook her head again and moved off the table, “If this is for the team you may want to get ready for round two.”

Doctor Mechanic, once on the ground Raven notices Abby's irritable and offers (enthusiastically) to take one for the team by being the chancellor's 'stress relief'. By which I mean fucking.

I will try my hand at this. It may take a bit longer for it to be done though.

-Psian

#Completedpsianamazonia #Herstoryforheda #the 100 #doctor mechanic #abby griffin #raven reyes

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

Text

is that a broom between your legs or are you just happy to see me?

Written by @almostafantasia for @soulsthatknow who asked for a Harry Potter Clexa AU. Apologies for the dumb title, I was definitely a little bit drunk when I came up with that. Hope the story is everything you were looking for!

Summary: In which Lexa takes a bludger to the head during the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin Quidditch match and the series of events that follow force her to confront the crush she’s had since her first year on her Quidditch rival Clarke Griffin.

Read it on AO3 here.

Donate to the Trevor Project here.

It all starts when the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin Quidditch match in Lexa’s sixth year descends from the usual house rivalry into a full-on brawl in the space of about thirty seconds.

Okay, so Lexa realises that might be a little bit of a lie, as it probably actually starts on September the first, five years and two months before what is to become an infamous game of Quidditch.

It starts when Lexa, eleven years old and sitting alone in a carriage on a steam engine bound to take her far away from her home to a school dedicated to teaching a discipline she hadn’t even realised existed until a few weeks prior, is interrupted in her solitude by the arrival of three other girls.

“…and I swear that if my mum hadn’t promised to buy him a new broom in Diagon Alley the next day, he probably would have hexed me to Azkaban and back in retaliation.”

Lexa catches the end of a story that one of the girls, a round faced brunette with a full set of bangs, is telling the other two as the compartment door slides open.

“Your brother is such an idiot,” one of the others interjects.

“He brings it upon himself,” agrees the first girl with a nod. “If he wasn’t so easy to wind up then…”

She stops in her tracks when she spots Lexa huddled in the corner of the carriage, causing one of the others to collide right into her back.

“Watch where you’re going, Octavia!” bickers the other girl, a blonde, before she too notices Lexa’s presence. “Oh sorry, I thought this compartment was empty.”

Lexa opens her mouth to say something but the sheer intimidation factor of the three girls, standing in formation with their arms folded across their chests like the album cover for one of the girl bands that Lexa used to be obsessed with a couple of years ago, causes a lump to form in her throat.

“It’s okay,” she manages to choke out.

“Can we sit here or are you waiting for friends?”

Lexa doesn’t have the heart to tell them that she doesn’t actually have any friends here yet, and merely gestures that it’s okay for them to sit down.

“Anyway,” continues the first girl, Octavia, as the three of them settle down into the seats beside the window. “I’m half hoping that I get put into Gryffindor with Bellamy just so that I can sneak into his dormitory when he’s at Quidditch practice and hide frogspawn in his pillow.”

The three girls snigger amongst themselves, until the blonde raises a finger and points at the compartment door, which slides open for the second time in as many minutes.

“Speak of the devil…”

“So this is where you’re all hiding out?”

The newcomer is a tall guy, probably several years Lexa’s senior, a mop of dark unruly hair on his head, his voice deep and a smirk etched upon his face.

“Go away Bellamy,” scowls Octavia. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“It’s my duty as prefect to check up on the firsties,” shrugs the boy – Bellamy. “That includes you.”

The girl who has remained silent thus far, the girl with darker skin and hair swept back into a ponytail, keeps a deadpan expression as she asks, “Wait, Bellamy, are you a prefect?”

It’s obviously some kind of in-joke between the three girls and Bellamy because they all giggle together and he rests one of his hands on his hip as he rolls his eyes at them.

“I really hope that none of you get sorted into Gryffindor so that some other poor prefect gets stuck with keeping you in line,” says Bellamy.

“I would rather get kissed by a Dementor than be in Gryffindor,” quips the blonde, and though Lexa has no idea what she just said, it seems to do the job of disgruntling Bellamy.

“Gryffindor doesn’t want you anyway,” Bellamy retorts slightly childishly. He turns to Lexa, then says, “I haven’t seen you before. First year?”

Lexa nods and Bellamy continues.

“What house to you think you’ll be sorted into?”

“I … I only found out this school exists a few weeks ago,” confesses Lexa.

Bellamy’s eyes widen momentarily in surprise, but he manages to collect himself quickly.

“Oh, you’re Muggleborn?”

Lexa nods, because Muggle is pretty much the only word that she knows the meaning of out of this strange new world.

“That’s cool,” continues Bellamy. “Well there are four houses and these days they generally get on pretty well for the most part – except for on the Quidditch pitch, of course – so it doesn’t really matter too much where you end up being sorted.”

“Though if you end up in a different house to me, I might have to hate you a little bit,” interjects the blonde. Her blue eyes meet Lexa’s with an intensity such as that it feels as though she is staring right into Lexa’s soul. It is only momentary though, because she quickly turns to her friends and adds, “That goes for you two as well.”

Lexa decides in that moment, for some inexplicable reason, that she wants more than anything else to be placed in the same house as this blonde girl.

She doesn’t, obviously, because fate never seems to work in that way, and Clarke Griffin, as Lexa learns her name to be during the sorting ceremony, gets sent to the Slytherin house table whilst the hat – yes, a talking hat – shouts out a booming “Ravenclaw!” for herself.

(Lexa wonders if there will ever be a time when things like talking hats and floating candles and walking through brick walls will ever seem normal to her, and though she doubts it, she tries to savour the feeling of incredulity, just in case.)

Anyway, fast forward five years and two months to the day of the fateful Quidditch match. Five years in which Lexa has gone from a shy and clueless eleven year old to a still quite shy yet rather proficient young witch. Magic is almost normal to Lexa now, but sometimes when she returns to Hogwarts after the holidays she’ll still get caught offguard by a moving staircase or she’ll forget that a door handle might shriek when she goes to turn it.

She’s good at magic though, which is definitely surprising, because she doesn’t really know how it’s possible for her to consistently get the second highest marks in her year (behind fellow Ravenclaw Raven Reyes, who somehow manages to pull incredible marks out of nowhere despite her penchant for “accidentally” blowing stuff up in the middle of class) when most of her classmates have been fully immersed in magic since birth.

But it is perhaps most important to note that the other big thing that has changed most since her first day at Hogwarts, is that whilst eleven year old Lexa just wanted to be sorted into the same house as Clarke Griffin, sixteen year old Lexa has a massive fucking crush on her.

Lexa hates to admit it, but her crush on Clarke Griffin is probably the main cause of the ruckus in the Ravenclaw versus Slytherin Quidditch match, because if she didn’t get momentarily distracted by the way that the sun shines off Clarke’s golden hair in a way that makes her look like an ethereal goddess, Lexa would most likely have noticed John Murphy hit a bludger in her direction more than half a second before it collides with the side of the head.

And then there is nothing until Lexa wakes up an indeterminable amount of time later, surrounded by the bright walls of the castle’s hospital wing and the clinical smell of cleanliness and medicinal potions.

“Ah, Miss Woods,” says the school matron, who hurries over to Lexa’s bed as soon as she notices that the girl is now awake, a goblet filled with some kind of purple potion held in her hands. “You took quite a beating. Here, drink this.”

Lexa sits up in her bed, wincing at the way that every part of her body seems to be aching in some way, and accepts the potion, before she drinks it quickly enough that the bitter aftertaste barely registers.

“What happened to me?” she croaks, returning the now empty goblet.

“A bludger to the head,” answers the matron. “It knocked you out and off your broom. Possible concussion, a broken wrist, and several fractured ribs. I mended the bones while you were asleep but I’d like to keep you in overnight just to be safe. You’ll need to keep taking a tonic for the pain and swelling for a few days though.”

Lexa nods, and then finally takes the opportunity to fully take in her surroundings. The hospital wing is far fuller than she’s ever seen it before. In fact, after a quick glance around, Lexa is pretty certain that she can see almost every player from both Quidditch teams, some in the beds that line each wall, some still clad in their bright blue or green robes as they loiter around theire injured teammates.

There’s a retching sound from the bed next to Lexa’s and she looks across to see the familiar profile of her captain, still dressed in her Quidditch underclothes, vomiting into a bucket on her lap.

“Anya?”

The seventh year lifts her head from the bucket in her lap and wipes her mouth on the back of her hand as she looks back across at Lexa. She looks awful, Lexa can’t deny that fact at all, her face pale and her eyes set back and surrounded by huge dark bags.

“Lexa, you’re awake.” Anya seems surprised to see Lexa conscious and sitting upright, though her voice is just a croak and barely conveys any emotion at all. “You look better than I feel. How is that even possible?”

“I don’t remember anything,” Lexa admits. “I think all the pain has been numbed right now. What happened to you?”

As if on cue, Anya leans over the bucket again and Lexa winces at the sound of the vomit hitting the bottom of the vessel. She waits patiently for Anya to finish retching, shooting the older girl a sympathetic look when she finally lifts her head again with tears streaming involuntarily from the corners of her eyes.

“Vomiting hex,” explains Anya. “There’s no cure. Just need to get it out of my system.”

Gesturing around to the busy hospital wing, Lexa asks, “What happened?”

“What didn’t happen?” scoffs Anya. “Well Murphy hit a bludger at you when you weren’t looking, which was out of line because you weren’t even doing anything. Then you fell off your broom, I had a go at him, and it all went from there. Raven used one of her infamous explosive hexes and took out three of the Slytherin team.”

Anya points over to the beds across the room from them where Clarke Griffin and two of the other members of the Slytherin team are being treated for burns by the matron.

“Wow,” Lexa says breathlessly. “And all because Murphy knocked me off my broom.”

“He’s such a Hippogriff turd,” spits Anya, glaring at Murphy out of the corner of her eye, and Lexa is pleased to note that he is sporting quite an impressive black eye, which Lexa is almost certain will have been given to him by Anya. “He could at least have had the decency to wait until you were looking.”

Lexa blushes slightly, remembering her last thoughts before she tumbled from her broomstick, and her eyes wander over to Clarke again, her blonde hair tinged with soot and a dark red gash across one of her cheeks.

Turning her attention back to Anya, Lexa dares to ask, “What was the final score?”

“Oh, the match has been postponed,” shrugs Anya nonchalantly. “It reached the point where the referee had awarded each team something like five penalties each but of course we had nobody to take them because all three of our Chasers were off the pitch and half the Gryffindor team was rushed here for minor burn treatment. The rematch is in two weeks’ time.”

Lexa’s mouth gapes open slightly as she realises just how much carnage a single bludger to her own head has managed to cause.

“But Quidditch never gets postponed!”

“Second time in Hogwarts history,” Anya nods, then adds bitterly. “Oh, and we’ve had Hogsmeade privileges taken away from us for the rest of this year.”

“What?” gasps Lexa.

“I know,” Anya rolls her eyes. “But it was either that or a Quidditch ban and neither I nor the Slytherin captain fancied having to train an entirely new team in two weeks so we agreed to the Hogsmeade ban.”

Lexa nods in agreement, and then gets distracted by the bed directly opposite her own, where Clarke is now standing up, in a heated argument with the matron about her injuries.

“I don’t need you to take care of me, Mum!”

“Clarke, you’re my patient…”

“And I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself!” bickers Clarke. She snatches the little tub of salve from her mother – the matron – and starts applying it to her own wound. “See?”

Lexa chuckles lightly at the sight, and though the laugh is soft, it still somehow manages to catch Clarke’s attention. Her hand stills on her cheek, fingertips covered in the sticky paste, she leaves her mother to tend to the other victims of Raven’s hex and comes to stand at the foot of Lexa’s bed.

“How are you doing, Woods?”

Lexa swallows and finds her throat suddenly very dry. She’s known Clarke for five years now – it’s hard to share a dorm with somebody’s best friend without bumping into them every now and again – but it’s not like they’re exactly what you’d call friends. In those five years, Lexa can probably count the number of times they’ve actually spoken to each other personally on the fingers of her two hands. In fact, other than the time they were partners for a Herbology project for two weeks in third year, Lexa thinks that the most communication they’ve had with each other has been the incredibly one-sided (mostly from Clarke, of course) exchange of profanities in the corridors of the castle in the run up to big Quidditch games.

Lexa tries to remind herself that this is just an acquaintance talking to her, just a friend of a friend, a rival on the Quidditch pitch, not the girl that she’s been mildly infatuated with for five years and obsessively crushing on for at least two.

As coolly as she can, she replies, “Well, considering I fell off my broom today, I could be doing a lot worse.”

She surprises herself, even more so when Clarke’s reaction is to laugh slightly as a smile crosses her lips.

“Sorry about Murphy,” Clarke says. “I know it’s not really any consolation, but I’ve always thought that he’s an asshole.”

Lexa nods in appreciation, because although it is definitely not Clarke’s apology to even give, they both know better than to expect John Murphy to show any remorse at all.

“And I’m sorry about Raven’s spell,” Lexa adds in response.

“Oh, don’t apologise for that,” Clarke dismisses her with a wave of the hand that has finished rubbing salve onto her burns. “I’ve known Raven since I was a kid. Do you think this is the first time she’s accidentally blown me up?”

They exchange a laugh between them, and then Clarke lets her hand drop to her side as she takes a couple of steps back towards the rest of her injured teammates.

“I’ll see you around, Woods.”

Lexa thinks of that conversation all week. She replays it over and over again, gets distracted in class wondering whether she should have said something different, or perhaps said more.

She has the same conversation in her head with Clarke so many times that week, each time slightly different to the time before, that when the weekend rolls around, the entire student body thrumming with excitement for a Hogsmeade visit that Lexa is forced to miss out on, she almost can’t remember the original conversation at all.

“I’m going to the library,” Anya says with a sigh, getting to her feet as a group of excited third years take up the vacant seats next to them at the Ravenclaw table, already clad in their heavy cloaks and thick blue scarves. “Maybe this Hogsmeade ban can do some actual good and help me pass my mock exams.”

Lexa swallows her mouthful of eggs and nods.

“I’ll probably join you in a bit,” she agrees. “See you later!”

Anya retreats with a wave, disappearing out of the Great Hall and leaving Lexa to the rest of her breakfast alone. But she barely has time to shovel one more forkful of food into her mouth before she has company again, the newcomer dropping into Anya’s newly vacated seat.

“Woods.”

Lexa’s head snaps up at the sound of her name and she startles slightly. Clarke Griffin is the last person she would have expected to find seated opposite her at the Ravenclaw table, dressed casually in a baggy sweater and a green and silver beanie with the Slytherin crest on the front, and she tries not to choke on her food in surprise.

“Griffin,” she acknowledges the other girl.

“Have you seen Raven this morning?” asks Clarke.

Lexa tries not to let herself feel too disappointed, but she can’t really control the nauseating sinking feeling in her stomach when she realises that Clarke isn’t here for her. Of course Clarke isn’t here for her. They’re not even friends.

Nodding, Lexa replies, “She was still in bed when I left the dormitory. It’ll be a while before she’s awake, I think.”

With a roll of her eyes, Clarke nods and says, “Of course. How did I not guess that? Shame, I was hoping to hang out with her today. All my other friends are going to Hogsmeade and I don’t really feel like watching Murphy and Emori suck face in the Slytherin common room all day.”

Lexa makes a noise of disgust and raises her half-eaten slice of toast to her mouth for another bite.

Clarke’s eyes widen in sudden realisation, and then she asks, “Wait, we could hang out today!”

Lexa almost chokes on her breakfast, barely managing to reach for her goblet of pumpkin juice to wash down her food before she can cough and accidentally spew chewed up bits of toast onto the table between herself and Clarke.

“Us?” she asks.

“Why not?” shrugs Clarke, as if it is the simplest idea in the world. “You’re not going to Hogsmeade either. We could, I don’t know, let me think…” Clarke pauses for just a second, her face contorted into a thoughtful frown, before an idea hits her and lights up her whole face. “We could play Quidditch! You know, practice shooting against each other ahead of the rematch next weekend?”

“Quidditch?” Lexa parrots back. She remembers back to her first ever journey to Hogwarts on September the first in her first year, recalling what Bellamy Blake had told her about the inter-house rivalry and how it only really applied to Quidditch matches these days, which turned out to be true. It’s not uncommon to see the houses mingling in the school corridors, or in the library, or even at mealtimes, but the rivalry rears its ugly head every time two houses face each other at sport. Lexa knows that all too well after last weekend. “But we’re on different sides.”

“And?” Clarke shrugs.

Lexa stalls, then remembers the pressing amount of work that she was planning to tackle today.

“I’d love to, but I was going to spend the day in the library.”

Lexa wants to curse herself the moment the words come out of her mouth, because she realises that it sounds like she really doesn’t want to hang out with Clarke at all today, which is the exact opposite of the truth. She wonders briefly why she isn’t jumping at the offer, when she has spent the last five years willing Clarke to pay attention to her, instead of fumbling for any excuse that she can.

“The library?” Clarke quirks an eyebrow at Lexa. “Seriously, Woods? Like I know that Ravenclaws are supposed to be the clever ones, but are you trying to fulfil all the nerdy stereotypes by spending your day off doing work?”

“I…” Lexa stammers, closing her eyes, because she’s only so far away from saying fuck it and agreeing to a day on the Quidditch pitch with Clarke. But her conscience wins over, to her utter dismay. “I really need to get that Potions essay done today, I’m sorry.”

Disappointment flashes across Clarke’s face, and Lexa is once again close to changing her mind, before the disappointment quickly changes to panic.

“Potions essay?” Clarke asks blankly. “What Potions essay?”

“You know, the one on the morality of love potions,” Lexa reminds her. When Clarke still shows no recognition, Lexa continues, “Three pages? Due Tuesday?”

“Oh crap! That Potions essay!”

Clarke slams her forehead into the palm of her hand and lets out a long sigh.

“Do you maybe want to come to the library with me this morning and we can work on it together?” Lexa ventures tentatively. “And then after lunch we can go and play Quidditch together.”

Clarke looks up and then, without hesitation and with a smile on her face, says, “Sounds like a plan.”

If Lexa wasn’t in love with Clarke Griffin before, she most likely is now.

Lexa wonders if she should maybe think about sending John Murphy a thank you card. Because she is absolutely cartain that had he not hit a bludger at her head when she wasn’t looking and started the fight that got them all banned from Hogsmeade, Clarke Griffin would not be sitting opposite her in the library right now, chewing on the end of her quill in a way that has Lexa shamefully clenching her thighs together as she tries not to imagine what else her mouth might be good at.

“Have you quoted this guy?” Clarke whispers into the silence of their corner of the library, sliding a heavy leather-bound book across the table and pointing to a paragraph on one of the worn open pages. “Because this is one of the chapters that was recommended in class but I think it’s full of bullshit.”

And then Clarke is off on a hushed rant, complaining about the author’s blatant sexism and disregard for consent when using love potions and if Lexa is completely honest, she stops listening to exactly what Clarke is saying after the first thirty seconds or so, because she is so enraptured with Clarke’s facial expressions and the way that she gesticulates wildly with her hands when she gets angry. And as Clarke talks, Lexa just thinks to herself yes, this is it, this is the girl I want to fall in love with, because not only is Clarke mind-bogglingly beautiful, but she’s also ridiculously intelligent, and articulate, and exactly what Lexa would look for in a girl…

“So what do you think?”

Lexa is drawn out of her daydream to find Clarke looking at her expectantly, and she tries to collect herself enough to form a coherent answer.

“I think you’ve got your essay sorted,” Lexa tells Clarke honestly. “It sounds like you could write way more than three pages.”

Clarke blushes and then, with a shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips, says, “I probably could, to be honest.”

“Why weren’t you sorted into Ravenclaw?” Lexa asks, picking up her own quill once more and trying to remember what her train of thought had been before Clarke started talking.

“Because I’m lazy,” Clarke answers shamelessly. She adds with a shrug, “Both of my parents were in Ravenclaw and I probably should have been too, but the Sorting Hat thought otherwise. I think my mum was a bit disappointed when I got put in Slytherin, but it’s definitely where I belong.” She smirks mischievously across at Lexa and says, “I can be a manipulative little shit when I want to be. That’s why I wasn’t sorted into Ravenclaw.”

Lexa laughs softly, flipping a page of the book laid out across the table in front of her.

“Shame,” she replies. “You’d have been an asset to us.”

“Why?”

Lexa looks up to find Clarke looking at her in full earnest and scrambles for an answer which is honest, but not the whole truth.

“You’re not bad at Quidditch, I guess,” she shrugs.

Clarke raises her eyebrows as she considers Lexa answer for a moment, then shakes her head as she looks back down to her half-written essay.

“Not bad,” she snorts. “Let me remind you, Woods, that I’ve been on my house team for a year longer than you’ve been on yours.”

“Let me remind you, Griffin,” Lexa quips back, “that you’ve probably been riding a broom for ten years longer than I have.”

Clarke lifts her head slowly, her face deadpan, then says, “Shut up and write your damn essay.”

“So if I’m only not bad at Quidditch, should I shoot against you first to get some more practice?”

Lexa glances over her shoulder as Clarke follows her down the tunnel from the changing rooms to the Quidditch pitch, to find the blonde smirking at her once again, broomstick in one hand and the bright red Quaffle tucked under the other arm.

“I mean, if you really think that a bit of practice can compete with my natural talent…”

Clarke pokes Lexa harshly in the back with the handle of her broomstick and Lexa lets out a little yelp in response as the hard wood digs into her spine.

“You know, Woods, I actually really like you but I also really hate you, do you get what I mean?”

Lexa’s heart does a little flip when Clarke says the words really like, but decides to play along anyway.

“You know, I actually don’t.”

“You’re too smart,” Clarke says, falling into step beside Lexa as the tunnel opens out into the huge stadium, gloomy grey November clouds high up above them.

Lexa looks across at Clarke and points to the crest on the front of her own blue Quidditch robes, saying smugly, “Ravenclaw”

“Smartass,” Clarke corrects herself with a shake of her head. She swings one leg over her broomstick and pushes off to hover a few feet off the ground. “You know, I’m going to really enjoy kicking your butt in the match next weekend.”

Lexa follows suits and soars into the air with a powerful kick off the muddy pitch.

“Why don’t you put that Quaffle where your mouth is, Griffin?”

They train together for over an hour and a half, taking turns at making shots whilst the other guards the hoops until it just descends into a one versus one game of Quidditch, dodging and racing each other from one end of the pitch to the other to throw the ball through the huge golden hoops. By the time they decide to head back inside, Lexa is pink-faced, happy, and possibly more in love with Clarke Griffin than she ever thought were possible.

“You’ve surprised me, you know,” says Clarke, as the pair of them drift back down to solid ground.

“Really?” Lexa’s eyes widen. “How so?”

Clarke shrugs and lands her broom elegantly on the soft turf, Lexa landing beside her shortly afterwards.

“I don’t know. You’re not at all how I imagined you to be. Raven’s always saying how quiet you are and so I just assumed you’d be … I don’t know, that you’d be really boring. But you’re not.”

Lexa flusters slightly at the compliment, then asks, “You and Raven talk about me?”

Clarke looks away quickly, and Lexa realises with a little air of satisfaction that she’s caught Clarke offguard.

“Well, I mean we talk about all our roommates. Mine and hers. We don’t just talk about you.”

“Sure thing, Griffin,” Lexa teases with a laugh, and she is pleased to see that Clarke’s cheeks are redder than they were a second ago, too red to be just the result of an hour and a half out in the cold.

“Shut up.”

“Woods!”

Lexa’s head snaps up at the stern voice calling out her name, snapping her out of her afternoon of bliss, and her insides lurch uncomfortable as she notices Anya standing in the entrance to the tunnel that leads back towards the changing room. She’s an intimidating figure, taller than both Lexa and Clarke, her broomstick propped up by her left hand and her right hand on her hip, not to mention the way that she scowls at Lexa to make her feel only inches tall.

“What the hell are you doing?” growls Anya, when Lexa gets closer to her. “Training with her?” Anya tilts the tip of her broomstick handle to point accusatorily at Clarke. “She’s the enemy.”

“She’s been teaching me all your tactics,” Clarke answers before Lexa can open her mouth to speak, “so that I know how to beat you next weekend.”

“I didn’t ask you, Griffin,” Anya snaps icily.

Clarke holds a gloved hand up defensively and takes a few steps to walk around Anya and into the tunnel.

“I’ll leave you both to it,” says Clarke. She looks at Lexa one final time and says, “I’ll see you later, Lexa.”

As Clarke disappears towards the changing rooms, Lexa’s heart barely has time to do a somersault in her chest at the fact that Clarke has used her first name for the first time ever before Anya is bearing down on her again. And she picks up on it too.

“Since when were you two on a first name basis?” scowls Anya.

“We’re not!” Lexa protests. “She’s doing it to wind you up and it’s working.”

Anya lets out an indignant huff.

“I don’t like this, Lex,” says Anya. “Not with only a week to go before we play them again.”

“Raven trains with her and Octavia Blake all the time!” Lexa argues, raising her chin so that the height difference between them is not so pronounced. “How is this any different? We were both bored and had nothing better to do and it seemed like fun.”

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, Lexa,” Anya says with a sigh.

Lexa know that this has gone beyond Quidditch now, because this is Anya that she is talking to. The same Anya who was Lexa’s first kiss when she joined the Ravenclaw team in her fourth year, the same Anya who helped Lexa through her messy breakup with Costia a year ago, the same Anya who is the only person besides Lexa who knows the truth about how completely infatuated Lexa has been with Clarke since day one.

“She’s not going to hurt me,” Lexa assures Anya. “I can look after myself.”

Anya frowns, clearly still unhappy with the situation, but she swallows, nods, and then says, “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow, Woods.”

“Yes, captain.”

When she enters the changing room two minutes later, it is to find that Clarke is already midway through undressing, her green Quidditch robes puddled in a messy heap on the floor and her trousers caught around one ankle as she tries to step out of them. But Lexa ignores all of this and drops her broom onto one of the benches with a clatter as she strides across the room, cupping one of Clarke’s cheeks with her hand and lifting the other girl’s face up towards her own.

“Woods, what are you … oh!”

Lexa presses her lips to Clarke’s, letting her eyes flutter closed in the process, and she feels Clarke startle slightly under her fingertips, before she relaxes and claws her fingertips into the soft material of Lexa’s blue robes.

“Sorry,” Lexa mumbles, pulling away slightly. She tries to ignore the way that her heart hammers against her ribcage far faster than it ever has done before, and the way that Clarke’s lips are parted and her pupils wide and dark.

“What was that about?” Clarke asks breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” Lexa answers honestly, her lips still feeling as though they are tingling from the recent contact with Clarke’s. “Anya was saying stuff and I … I don’t kn-”

This time it is Clarke who cuts Lexa off, one of her hands curling into Lexa’s waist and the other tangling into the soft baby hairs at the base of Lexa’s neck to pull her in closer. The initial surprise of the kiss over, Lexa pushes back with her lips, coaxing Clarke’s open and in turn drawing a moan out from the blonde.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” says Lexa, pulling away for long enough to rest her forehead against Clarke’s and mumble the words against kiss-swollen lips.

Clarke smirks.

“Oh, I think I do.”

And then she pushes Lexa back against the wall of the changing room, kissing her with more enthusiasm than Lexa thinks she’s ever been kissed before.

The Ravenclaw versus Slytherin match picks up exactly where it left off before the bludger hit Lexa’s head two weeks earlier, with Slytherin twenty points ahead and each team with four penalties to take as the result of the brawl. The crowd goes crazy as the two teams walk out onto the pitch, a sea of green at one end of the stadium and the familiar blue and bronze scarves and flags billowing in the wind at the other, and as the players line up in two near rows, Anya and Ontari stepping forward to shakes each other’s hand, Lexa looks up at Clarke to find blue eyes already fixated on her with a hardened stare.

“You’re going down, Woods,” Clarke mouths the words across at Lexa, her glare unrelenting and intimidating. Or at least it would be intimidating, if Lexa hadn’t spent the best part of the last week staring into those same blue orbs in between drawn out rounds of burning kisses.

“In your dreams, Griffin,” Lexa mouths back.

Clarke’s face softens slightly, then a slow smirk spreads across her face as she raises a suggestive eyebrow, and Lexa has no time to interpret the gesture fully because the referee chooses that exact moment to blow the whistle and Clarke has pushed off from the ground out of Lexa’s sight in the blink of an eye.

Lexa scores Ravenclaw’s first penalty, feinting left to trick the Keeper and then tossing it through the hoop on the far right. Her teammates bundle her into a midair hug, a messy tangle of limbs and broomsticks handles, but there’s barely any time to celebrate because Slytherin retaliate by scoring their own penalty too.

Clarke lines up for Slytherin’s third shot, right after Anya makes it three in a row for Ravenclaw, and Lexa makes sure to hover just within Clarke’s eyesight, a deliberate distraction. When the Ravenclaw Keeper just manages to deflect the Quaffle off the tips of his fingers, she doesn’t know whether to be happy that her team have the advantage or sympathetic towards Clarke, who swears loudly and flies off.

She manages to persuade Anya to let her take Ravenclaw’s final penalty and she sends it soaring through the right hoop again with ease, just to rub it in.

They win, barely, after a toughly contended match that lasts almost three hours and sees almost as much violence as the game two weeks ago, though luckily only the Slytherin Seeker ends up paying a trip to the infirmary with a broken nose. The team celebrates with a huge group huddle, then two laps of victory around the perimeter of the huge pitch, waving and cheering along with the Ravenclaws in the crowd as they go.

Clarke looks pissed, understandably so, as the match had been a closely fought one throughout and could honestly have gone either way, but when Lexa meets her gaze, she smiles through her disappointment and gives Lexa a nod of congratulations.

The celebration party goes on well into the night, food and dancing and loud music that reverberates off the stone walls of Ravenclaw tower. Lexa misses all but the first half an hour. Her own private celebration takes place in a deserted classroom on the fourth floor, a muffling charm placed on the locked door to hide the gasps and moans of the two girls with hungry lips and wandering hands, rivals in Quidditch, yet anything but when off the pitch.

#clexa #clexa fanfiction #clarke griffin #commander lexa #herstoryforheda #almostafantasia #soulsthatknow

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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If you're still taking prompts, could you do a Clexa one where they're internet friends, or something similar idk, and meet each other for the first time? Thanks!

on it, anon! i’ll have it up asap, ok? :) - @cosima-phdhaus

#asks #anonymous #inprogresscosima-phdhaus #Anonymous

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herstoryforheda · 8 years

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A Hell of a Ride

Prompt requested by @forallmyflyingparts: Can you guys do a clexa au where Clarke is a driver of a cross country bus called like ‘Ark Travels’ or something like that, and Lexa is a passenger? (filled by @schtroumpfie31)

Can be found on Fanfiction.net here.

The powerful roar of the engine of the bus as it accelerated was what woke Lexa up. Well, at least she thought that was it, but as she woke up, she realized that the bus was not moving at all and that what she had thought was the roar of the engine was in fact the guy standing in front of her. He was practically yelling at her to move something. Lexa’s eyes had flickered open and she blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the sudden aggressive light.

Grunting, because she was so exhausted that she had somehow managed to fall asleep in less than ten minutes only to be brutally woken up two minutes later, Lexa raised her eyebrows as she stared at the guy in front of her, trying to make out what he was saying.

“Just move it!”

“What?”

The man rolled his eyes and yelled even louder, causing people to turn on their seats to look at what was going on. “Your suitcase! Move it!”

Lexa’s eyes widened in confusion. She didn’t have a suitcase. She had only took a bag for this trip, because it wasn’t supposed to last more than a couple of days. In fact, her best friend Anya had been laughing at her when she had come up with the idea, because the ride on the bus took over almost a third of the trip. But she had needed to get away from the city a little bit, so she figured, why not? A camping trip didn’t seem so bad. She had come across this ad of ‘Ark Travels’ at work, and considering that she had very little savings, it seemed like taking the bus across the country was the best option.

Lexa lowered her gaze to look at what the man was showing, and she replied calmly, “That’s not my suitcase.”

The man scoffed. “Then whose is it?”

“Mine.”

Lexa and the man both turned their head to the front of the bus, from where the raspy voice came. Lexa’s breath hitched in her throat as she took in the stunning blonde next to the driver’s seat. The woman had alluring blue eyes, wavy blonde hair that screamed at Lexa to tangle her hands in it, and let’s not forget her amazing cur-

Okay, I think that’s enough, Lexa.

Gathering her thoughts, Lexa averted her eyes, but not before noticing a smirk on the gorgeous blonde’s face. The rude man turned his attention to her. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Move it!”

The blonde placed her hands on her hips and scowled, making her look like some mom scolding her child for something they did wrong. Lexa couldn’t suppress the smirk that tugged at her lips as the blonde huffed. “Sir, first I’m going to ask you to be respectful if you want my suitcase moved, and second, if you want to stay on this bus, you’re gonna have to tone it down a bit.”

The man snorted, causing Lexa to frown. This guy was a total douche. “Oh yeah, pretty lady? And who are you to decide whether or not I take this bus?”

Lexa saw a mischievous glint flash briefly in the blonde’s blue eyes. “The driver of this bus.”

The man gulped and both women smirked at him. Lexa saw the blonde stealing a glance at her, obviously amused that the brunette was enjoying this as much as she was.

“You don’t look like…”

“Like what?” The blonde said, still smirking. “Like an overweight forty year old bald man? True, you look like more of a bus driver than I do.”

Ouch!

That must have hurt.

Dumbfounded, but still raging, the man was visibly offended. “Little lady, you have no right to talk to me like that.”

“And I don’t appreciate you calling me 'little lady’, but everyone has to make sacrifices, right? If you promise to behave, I’ll be happy to move my suitcase.”

Sarcasm dripped from every word the blonde said. Lexa couldn’t stop staring. She was incredibly attractive. Leather jacket, deep blue eyes, mischievous look in her eyes, and that voice. Maybe Lexa had been right about taking the bus after all.

The man grunted and went to sit at the back of the bus instead, and Lexa wondered why he had even bothered her in the first place. The blonde neared Lexa with that devilish half-smile of hers, only now it was directed at her. Swallowing thickly, she looked away to focus on what was going on outside the bus instead.

She heard a suitcase roll on the bus floor, and then the blonde practically groaned as she was struggling to lift her suitcase up. Lexa hold her breath again, before getting up from her seat to offer her help.

The blonde must have heard her coming, because she stopped her before Lexa could do anything. “Go back to your seat. I don’t need your help.”

“Yeah, sure,” Lexa answered as she flashed the blonde a teasing smile, not moving an inch.

After a little more struggling, the blonde gave up and turned to the brunette. “Okay, fine. I might need a hand.”

As Lexa’s smirk grew wider, she attempted to lift the suitcase and her expression instantly fell. “God, what did you put in there?”

The blonde had an embarrassed smile, which Lexa found adorable. “Just a few essential things.”

Lexa raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, a lot of things must be essential to you. Feels like someone’s body is in there.”

She somehow managed to lift the suitcase up and put it above the seats of the bus without too much trouble – years of swimming had obviously helped shape her strong muscles – and she couldn’t help but smirk as she saw the blonde blatantly checking her out.

“Done,” Lexa said proudly as she started to go back to her seat.

“Thanks,” the blonde muttered, before interjecting her. “Hey, how about you sit over there, so I don’t feel too lonely on this ride?” The blonde suggested as she pinpointed the front row of the seats.

Lexa smiled softly which, surprisingly, the blonde reciprocated. “Sure,” she said, retrieving her bag and moving to the front row. Before she sat, she put her bag down and offered a hand to the woman. “Lexa.”

“Clarke,” the blonde answered, shaking her hand, and god Lexa had never felt hands so soft. She had rarely been this attracted to someone before.

As Lexa sat, the blonde – Clarke – took a mic and proceeded to announce that they were going to go in less than five minutes, and that they would arrive late during the night. They would stop briefly every two hours.

Once everyone was settled, Clarke sat in the driver’s seat, and soon, they were ready to go. During the first two hours, Lexa mostly daydreamed, looking out the window, Clarke asking her questions from time to time – like where she was from and what it was like there.

Suddenly, Clarke announced a break and they stopped only two minutes later. Getting out of the bus, Lexa proceeded to buy herself coffee and a scone, because it was still early and she hadn’t had breakfast this morning. Drinking and enjoying it slowly, she smiled as she saw the blue-eyed blonde approaching her, her own coffee in hand.

“Having a hard time keeping your eyes open?” she asked once she’d sat next to her.

“A little. I have a late night job, so I usually sleep in the morning,” Lexa explained.

Clarke raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s your job?”

“Waitress in a club,” Lexa answered. “It’s only temporary. I’m saving money to go to college, and I’m almost there.” The blonde hummed in response and conformable silence fell between them before Lexa broke it a few minutes later. “And you? Are you a full time bus driver?”

The blonde laughed, causing Lexa to smile. “No, I’m an artist. I’m starting to get a few exhibits, but still not enough to only be living on that. I got my bus license last year and I figured, why not? It keeps my summers busy for a while.”

“Cool.” Lexa had always admired artists. She didn’t dare to ask to see any of her work, though. “Where are you going after this trip?”

“Actually, I’m staying at that stupid camp site,” the blonde replied as she took a sip of her drink.

“Not into camping, huh?” Lexa finished off her coffee. They would have to get back on the bus soon.

“I’m not very outdoorsy.”

“Why are you going then?” Lexa asked curiously.

“I don’t know.” The blonde shrugged her shoulders. “I just wanted to try something different, I guess. And I wanted to get away from the city for a while. And you? What’s your excuse to go on a camping trip?”

“The same, basically. Plus, I’m only staying for a couple of days.”

“Really?” Clarke raised an eyebrow in surprise. “That’s a lot of trouble just to stay for two days.”

“I don’t mind the trip, really,” Lexa said. “Especially not when I’m in such good company,” she finished, flashing the blonde a flirty smile. She would have sworn that she saw a light blush appearing on the blonde’s cheeks, and that made her smirk a little.

“Alright, time to get back,” Clarke announced.

Lexa followed her back into the bus, and when everyone had gotten back as well, Clarke started the engine and took off. They kept chatting all day, Lexa always wanting to choose the music and Clarke rolling her eyes at her 'shitty taste’, until the rude man from that morning complained that he wanted to sleep. When the evening approached and it was time for a longer pause to allow them to eat and relax a little, since they ’d had only had a small break for lunch, Lexa took the mic from the blonde. “Can I?”

“What? Make the announcement?”

Lexa blushed slightly, an embarrassed smile on her face. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

Clarke snorted and looked at her from the corner of her eye, not turning her head to keep herself focused on the road. “What are you? Five?” she asked with a teasing smile. She noticed the brunette’s pleading eyes in the rear view mirror and she sighed. “Fine. Have your fun.”

Lexa let out a happy sound and Clarke chuckled. Without even getting up from her seat, Lexa announced the break with the voice of a flight attendant. Once she was done, she put the mic down and Clarke glanced at her.

“Happy now?”

“Very much,” Lexa replied, smiling proudly like a five year old indeed.

Clarke pulled off of the main road and to a small restaurant again, and Lexa got out of the bus once it was stopped. She waited for the blonde, since she was the last one to get off. Once she did, she smiled when she saw Lexa waiting for her and suggested, “Wanna eat outside? It’s a pretty nice night.”

“I thought you hated being outside?”

“I hate being surrounded by nature, but I don’t mind being outside when I’m surrounded by civilization,” Clarke explained, shrugging.

“If this is what you call civilization.” Lexa flashed the blonde a teasing smile. “Alright then,” she said as they headed inside to grab food and came out a minute later. They sat at a table not too far from the bus, and Lexa initiated the conversation. “What made you want to get a bus license?”

Clarke put her sandwich down and cleared her throat awkwardly. “Uh, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Clarke stared at her for a moment before she deadpanned, “A bet with my friends.”

Lexa burst out into laughter, unable to control herself and she put her food down. She laughed even harder when the blonde glared at her, although she was harboring a half-smile. Between her laughs, Lexa asked, “Please, enlighten me, how can a bet involve learning how to drive a bus?”

Clarke joined her and laughed a little, and then replied, “I don’t even know. Lots of alcohol I guess.”

Lexa’s laughter died down and she tilted her head to the side. “You must like to party.”

The blonde arched an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“I don’t know.” Lexa shrugged, losing herself in blue eyes. “Call it a hunch.”

“Sorry to interrupt your chit chat, ladies, but shouldn’t we get going if we want to arrive before midnight?” The same rude man from the morning interrupted, making Lexa look away to throw daggers at the man instead.

Clarke faked a smile and said, “Sure. Let me tell everyone it’s time to leave.”

“You haven’t even finished eating yet,” Lexa butted in.

“It’s okay. I’m not that hungry anyway.” Clarke gave her a reassuring smile.

The bald man got back into the bus, leaving them alone again. Clarke quickly grabbed a bite of her sandwich before getting up. Lexa was gathering their stuff. “What a jerk.”

“Yeah,” Clarke chuckled. “I wish more passengers were like you.”

Lexa instantly blushed a bright red and Clarke smirked before leaving towards the small building where everyone was finishing eating. The brunette got back into the bus and waited for everyone to come back. It was starting to get late, and she needed sleep from missing some that morning. She wondered how Clarke was managing to seem so high spirited. She figured she would keep talking to her anyway, because it wasn’t easy having to drive all day and then at night too.

As Clarke got back into the driver seat, a woman asked, “How long until we get there?”

“Two hours and a half,” the blonde replied with a smile. “We won’t make any stops now.”

The woman left to go back to her seat, and Lexa sat straighter into hers to make eye contact with Clarke. “How about you keep me company during my two days at that camping?”

Clarke’s face instantly broke into a grin. “I’d like that. I’ll probably need some help anyway. I’ve literally never been camping in my life.”

“You’ll see,” Lexa said, smiling, “it will be fun.”

“I don’t doubt that,” the blonde agreed with a devilish grin, causing Lexa to blush a little again and her breath hitched in her throat as she glanced at the blonde’s sultry lips.

That girl is going to be the death of me.

After two hours mostly spent talking about their respective lives, the bus finally pulled up in the campsite parking lot. Along the way, Lexa had noticed the bus filling up, and it was now completely full. Little by little, people retrieved their suitcases and got out of it. Lexa waited for everyone to get out, but her gaze followed a certain bald man that didn’t seem to want to leave without one last snarky comment. Before he left, he stopped in front of Clarke and said, “That was the most horrible bus trip I’d ever had. Further proof that women shouldn’t drive.”

Clarke faked a smile again and replied sarcastically, “Thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to let my bosses know that sexist jerks aren’t allowed on my buses anymore.”

Lexa couldn’t prevent the snort from escaping her lips and the man turned to glare at her. He didn’t even know what to reply with so he just got out, grumbling something to himself through gritted teeth.

Clarke let out a relived sigh. “Finally, we’re freed from him.”

“Yeah.” Lexa smiled. “This place should be big enough for us not to run into him.”

After making sure everyone had left, the blonde explained, “One of the drivers from 'Ark Travels’ should be here tomorrow to get the bus back to the nearest depot, so technically, I’m on vacation.”

“Great, let’s make sure to celebrate that.”

As they checked into the camp site, they noticed that their spots were right next to each other. It’s like they were destined to meet. Lexa quickly set up her tent, and she teased as she saw Clarke struggle with her own. “Need a hand?”

“Or a thousand,” Clarke grunted. Lexa smiled and helped her set up her tent. “Thanks. Did I mention I hate camping?”

Lexa laughed. “Yeah, I think you did.”

They were startled as they heard yelling at one of the spots in front of theirs. Who the hell was yelling at like midnight in the middle of a campsite?

Clarke snorted as she noticed the cause of the disturbance. “Of course Mr. Douche has a spot right in front of us.” Lexa’s face fell, but Clarke didn’t seem to be too bummed. In fact, if the mischievous smirk on her face was anything to go by, she had something in mind. “How about we pull a little prank on him?”

“And making him even angrier? No thanks,” Lexa declined.

“Come on! It will be fun.” Seeing no reaction from the brunette she pouted.

“Who’s the five year old now?” Lexa chuckled. The blonde just kept pouting at her, and finally she gave in, sighing. “Fine. What do you suggest?”

“Classic. It’s a bit windy, so let him give the surprise of his tent collapsing on him during the night.”

“Never been camping, but already pulling the classics, huh?”

They waited a few minutes, talking and laughing, until the man finally seemed to go to bed. Not even ten minutes later, they heard him begin snoring, and they took that as their queue to put their plan in motion.

Too exhausted to wait for the result, Lexa said she was going to sleep, and she promised to have breakfast with the blonde in the morning. Clarke called after her a minute later, and Lexa left her tent, already in her pajamas. “What?”

“I forgot my phone in the bus, and I can’t even remember where it’s parked.” Clarke was blatantly checking her out in her tank top and shorts.

Uh huh, sure you can’t, Lexa thought and she smirked. “Okay, let’s go, I’ll show you the way.”

A smiled tugged at Clarke’s lips. “Thanks.”

When they reached the bus again, Clarke got in and Lexa decided to wait for her outside. After a few minutes and still no sign of the blonde, Lexa called, “Clarke? Did you find it?”

No answer. Frowning, Lexa got into the bus, only to be greeted by Clarke’s butt, as she was obviously struggling to find her phone under the driver’s seat. Swallowing thickly, Lexa caught the blonde’s attention. “Do you need help?”

Clarke let out a triumphant exclamation and she got up, making Lexa take a step back. “I got it!”

“Great,” Lexa said, still avoiding looking at the blonde because all she could see right now was her gorgeous behind. “You’ll be able to find your way back?” The blonde nodded in response. “Goodnight, Clarke.”

She turned on her heels, only to be stopped by a firm hand grabbing her own, and she was pulled firmly against the blonde. To say that she wasn’t expecting that would be a huge understatement, but the unexpected could be incredibly nice sometimes.

They just stared at each other for a long moment, getting lost in each other’s eyes, until the blonde let go of the brunette’s hand. Lexa instantly missed the touch and she rested her hand on Clarke’s cheek, abruptly kissing her senseless. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t gentle, and Clarke immediately tried to fight for dominance. The blonde sucked her bottom lip between her own, causing Lexa to moan a little. The brunette felt a tongue grazing at her lips, and she happily granted access to her mouth, deepening the kiss even more.

Clarke led her toward one of the seats, and she pulled her in as she laid onto the second row. Lexa was more than happy to oblige, and soon, tops were off, and Lexa knew it was too late to back down now. She couldn’t resist those lips and those curves that were screaming at her to kiss them.

If only she had known that bus trips could be so fun, she would have done this a long time ago.

#clexa #the 100 #fanfic #prompt fill #clarke x lexa #lexa x clarke #herstoryforheda #commader lexa #clarke griffin

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