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cascowriteswords · 1 year

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my contribution to clexmas22

[Read on AO3]

My contribution to Clexmas this year, a growing up together Clexa story told through the lens of 9 Christmases/Christmas Eves over the course of 18 years. Completed one shot :)

...

Kindergarten

Clarke’s sweater is itchy. She fidgets with the neckline of it as she sits at her desk, feet that don’t reach the ground swinging idly back and forth beneath her. She can’t stop looking at the clock; practically all she can think about is the class Christmas party that they get to have after lunch. Her mom sent her to school this morning with a tray of snowball cookies and she knows that the rest of her classmates brought food, too, but what she’s most excited about is what’s tucked away in her cubby at the back of the room. There, she has a present for her best friend, Lexa, that she’s just dying to give to her.

Her teacher catches her glancing at the clock and then at her cubby for the umpteenth time and approaches, taking a peek at the drawing they’re supposed to be working on, Christmas cards for their parents. “This is excellent, Clarke,” she says. “Your parents will love it.”

“My daddy says he saves all of my drawings ‘cause I’m gonna be in a moozeem one day,” Clarke tells her proudly. Her eyes flick to the clock again, and her teacher smiles knowingly.

“Have you ever heard the saying ‘ a watched pot never boils ’, Clarke?”

Clarke shakes her head, momentarily distracted from her fixation on the time and impending party by the odd question. “It means that time passes slower when you’re waiting for something and it’s all you can think about,” the teacher explains. “So if you keep looking at the clock, it’s going to take even longer until you get to leave for lunch and the Christmas party.”

“I can’t help it,” Clarke says. “I have a present to give to Lexa. She’s gonna love it.”

“That’s exciting. I’m sure she will,” her teacher says. The woman looks across the room to where Lexa is sitting. She's in a white long sleeve turtle neck and a long plaid skirt and her feet do touch the ground in her chair because she's so tall even though she's scrawny. A blue colored pencil is gripped tightly in her hands as she draws, a look of concentration on her face. Clarke and Lexa had their seats separated only a few weeks into the school year due to their inability to stay quiet and focused during their lessons if they were sat next to each other. The two had only just met at the beginning of the year but their friendship bloomed immediately and voraciously to the point that they’re now nearly inseparable whenever given the chance.

“Do you know what I think might make the time pass a little faster?” the teacher asks. Clarke shakes her head, still fidgeting in her seat and plucking at the collar of her itchy Christmas sweater. She follows the teacher’s gaze over to Lexa and then looks back to her, curious. “How about I let you go sit with Lexa,” the teacher proposes.

Keep reading here

#clexmas22 #lots of pining #lots of fluff #a fair amount of smut too #and several of your favorite tropes strewn throughout #like sharing a bed and an italicized oh and 'you've thought about this moment?'#clexa #new clexa #clexa modern au

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hedawanheda · 3 months

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no body, no crime

There’s a serial killer on the loose in Arkadia. Unluckily for them, there is also a bored necromancer in town who loves to play pranks by resurrecting their victims.

Neither are aware that they are dating each other.

a clexa serial killer/necromancer au

read on ao3

#clexa #clexa au #clexa crack #no body no crime #necromancer au #clarke griffin #commander lexa #lexa kom trikru #clexa fanfic #clarke x lexa #modern clexa #clexa fanfiction #my fic

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unchartedcloud · 5 months

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Chapter 1: It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Lexa Woods - divorcée, parent, and owner and proprietor of the Polaris Inn - has her hands full trying to manage her small, ski-side inn as the winter holidays descend on her equally small town. Amidst the craziness, she certainly doesn't anticipate finding an unconscious blond out on the back trails, who later wakes with no memory of who she is. Unwilling to condemn her to a hospital bed for the holidays, Lexa offers the mystery woman a room at her inn until she recovers her memory - and recovers her sense of romance along the way. In other words: a Clexa AU loosely based on the Lindsay Lohan Netflix movie. Also known as the Hallmark AU.

Read on Ao3.

#clexa #clexa fanfic #clexa fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #clarke griffin #lexa woods #commander lexa #modern au #hallmark au #my fic

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commanderlexaofthegrounders · 2 months

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For @clexaweekofficial 2024

𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓎 𝐵𝑒𝓉𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓉𝓈

It's the honeymoon of Clarke and Lexa after their wedding day.

A direct sequel to Remember when (we used to be between the sheets.)

#clexa #clexaweek24 #modern au #bts #lexa deserved better #clexaff

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talktomeinclexa · 5 months

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Mend the Heart You Broke (Heal the Wounds You Caused)

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Panic attack

Status: Complete

Summary: Clarke and Lexa led the perfect life. Married, two children, a big house, a group of reliable friends. Until Lexa cheated on her wife and the idyllic picture was smashed to bits. Three months later, Clarke is still trying to put the pieces of her heart together when Lexa slowly comes back into her life. The path to forgiveness will force the artist on a self-introspection journey that won't leave anyone unscathed. But isn't true love worth the fight?

***

Chapter 1: Broken Hearts

Who do you think you are?

Runnin’ ’round leaving scars

Collecting your jar of hearts

Tearing love apart

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a woman with a battered heart, must drown her sorrows in depressing songs. Clarke muses over the thought as Christina Perri’s ballad voices the pain eating her bit by bit. Outside, rain is drenching the garden and obstructing the windows with thick, endless drops, completing the cliché. It would be almost poetic if it weren’t so ridiculously tragic, and she can’t help but chuckle humorlessly at the dramatic scene.

She stands in front of the sink after lunch, drying the plates, glasses, and cutlery while her children play in their room. The perfect picture of the suburban mom, with shoulder-length blond hair curling at the ends, baby-blue eyes, an attractive figure despite having twins, and close to no wrinkles to mark her almost thirty-seven years on this Earth. A former aspiring artist turned full-time stay-at-home mom whose career is finally taking off now that the kids are in school and she has time to paint. What more could she want?

Distracted by her rumination, she loosens her fingers half an inch too much. The plate, too happy to add insult to her still-opened injuries, slides off the dish towel and comes crashing into the sink. With unmistakable irony, it breaks right in the middle; two parts forever split where they used to be only one. Just like her heart, she thinks, breaking into heavy sobs in the middle of her kitchen.

“Mama? Are you crying?”

Clarke discreetly wipes the tears rolling down her cheeks before turning around to face her son. Her little boy, the one man in her life she loves to the moon and back. She hopes it will be many years before he learns to recognize a genuine smile from the fake one she flashes at him.

“No, honey. I had something in my eyes. What are you doing here? I thought you were playing in your room.”

Keep reading

#clexa #clexa fic #modern au #mend the heart you broke #married clexa #just finished re-editing it

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audi0med1c · 2 months

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Clexa Modern AU as Celebrity Exes- "Is It Over Now?"

CHAPTER 1- THE RESTAURANT

The absolute last thing Clarke wanted to see tonight on her rare chance to dine out was Lexa fucking Woods.

Lexa Woods, in her signature dark grey Armani suit.

On a date.

Before she could successfully grab her best friend's arm to duck out and choose another restaurant, those green eyes flick over and meet hers, as if she had been waiting on her to arrive.

"Shit you gotta be fucking kidding me." She hisses, earning a concerned look from the dark-haired girl just in front of her.

"What?" The girl says, looking Clarke up and down for something wrong.

"She's fucking HERE."

"Who is?" The girl says, turning to scan the dining room.

Clarke grabs her arm to stop her from turning, "No don't look don't-" but winces when it's clearly too late. Both of their eyes meet those green ones still locked onto them.

Lexa is holding a glass of red wine, and raises it slightly in their direction, shooting them her signature grin that Clarke would love to walk over and smack right off her annoyingly beautiful face.

"We can go somewhere else, Clarke, come on."

A flash goes off outside, as the first of what will eventually be many paparazzi snaps a picture through the restaurant's front window.

"No," Clarke says, "I'm not giving her that satisfaction."

They wait to be seated, and as the waiter is pouring their first glasses of wine the third member of their party arrives, fashionably late as always.

"Um since when do they seat VIPs off in the corner? Wasn't the reservation under Clarke Griffin? Your art is literally hanging in their lobby."

Clarke hates when Raven uses that term, as she never expects or cares about getting any sort of special treatment anywhere. Actually she'd prefer blending in and being invisible most of the time.

"We aren't the only VIPs tonight." Clarke uses the term sarcastically, nodding her head in the direction over the girl's shoulder, "And I requested this table, so just sit Raven."

"Ohhhh damn what are the odds of that?" Raven chuckles, pulling out her seat and taking a long sip of wine, shooting a glance at the other girl with them.

"Octavia stop looking, Jesus." Clarke kicks the girl's shin under the table.

Clarke had asked for the table on the far side of the dining room, away from as much of the crowd as possible, and took the seat that kept Lexa mostly in her line of sight without having to turn her head and be obvious.

"She's still watching you." Octavia says, not even trying to hide looking over her shoulder at the pair behind them.

"Ugh ok maybe I can't fucking stay here." Clarke motions to their waitress.

Raven is typing on her phone under the table, which Octavia catches out of the corner of her eye.

Raven: You didn't think to tell me Lexa was coming here tonight???

The three dots hover in the bottom corner for what feels like forever.

Anya: How would I know that?!?! Wait who is she there with??

Raven: A blonde. A HOT blonde.

Anya: Oh god. Can't wait to hear about this when you get home.

Clarke catches Raven typing on her phone under the table, and then notices Lexa casually check her phone a few seconds later and shoot another grin in her direction.

"Really Rae?" Clarke says, annoyed, "Can you leave Anya out of this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl says not even trying to hide her smile.

The waitress, a bubbly young girl with short bouncy auburn curls looks nervous when she approaches.

"Yes Ms. Griffin, are you ready to order?" Clarke is always sure to be overly nice to waitstaff, or any staff when she is out in public. She honestly hates most of the things that come with being so easily recognizable, particularly the stereotype of celebrities being entitled, petulant, or conceited. It's not something she intentionally sought, or even thought was possible when she pursued art full-time after college and found her own moderate success. Any level of celebrity status could never go to her head, as she will always be the small-town girl from the East Coast town of Polis, who grew up with next to nothing and never quite felt like she belonged in a place like L.A. to begin with.

But dating one of Hollywood's hottest A-listers will certainly put you on people's radar.

Clarke leans in towards the waitress, "Actually, we will take the check for the wine, I completely forgot about a previous commitment I need to get to, but can I order a bottle of Dom Perignon, for the table right over there before we go?" She motions with her head towards the table where Lexa is now very obviously pretending to laugh at whatever the bimbo across from her is saying.

"Of course, will that be all for you tonight?"

"Actually, if I give you an extra hundred dollars, will you relay a message when you bring over the bottle? A toast of sorts."

The two girls across from her are trying to keep a straight face, but watch wide-eyed as Clarke whispers something into the waitresses' ear, and hands over her Amex card.

The girl's face when she straightens up is a mix of nervous and giddy, understanding the context of the request.

The history of the two patrons was no secret – it had been front page of the tabloids for months after their very public, very messy breakup. Now it was just the simple annoyance of whatever bullshit spin came out of their occasional run-ins or when they attended the same events.

"I'll be right back." Clarke says, pushing back from the table to stand.

"Wait where are you going?" Octavia calls after her.

"Bathroom." She replies over her shoulder, heading towards the hallway on the far end of the dining hall. She made sure to keep her eyes straight ahead as she walked past the brunette and her date nonchalantly, but the familiar aroma of Dior perfume crawled up her nostrils and she hated how good it smelled.

It reminded her of silk sheets and long nights, her hands sliding over hips and thighs and feeling the hot breath of whispered sighs.

Don't you dare. She thought to herself, shaking the memories from her head.

She stared at herself a good long while in the bathroom, both expecting and dreading the door to open. When it doesn't, she touches up her red lipstick, adjusts herself in her skin-tight black cocktail dress so her already exposed cleavage is just a tad more on display, and heads back out to the dining room.

Her friends are already at the hostess stand, waiting for her before heading out past the now moderate amount of paparazzi that must have heard her and Lexa were spotted in public at the same place for the first time in months.

A small grin tugs at her lips as she passes the brunette's table, noting the new bottle of vintage champagne that sits opened with two glasses poured but not being touched, and a now slightly miffed date that shoots up an embarrassed look when she notices Clarke passing by.

Clarke bends over far more than necessary as she signs the bill left on the table, tipping an additional $50 on top of the $100 she promised because the look on the young girl's face was honestly better than she could have hoped for and collects her Amex card. As she heads to join her friends at the front she hears a muffled voice from behind apologize and excuse themselves as they stand up from their table.

The warning looks on her friends' faces tell her to expect the hand that tugs her backwards as she reaches the hostess stand, pulling her to the side at the front of the restaurant.

The velvety scent of Dior wafts into her nose again, and those green eyes are much closer to her than they need to be, but she doesn't step back. At least not yet.

"Really Clarke?" Comes the expected reprimand, "Here's to the search for something greater? Classy."

"She's practically my clone." Clarke shrugs sharply.

Lexa remains unamused.

"Hardly, she's missing your signature....what is it..." Lexa dramatically gestures with her hand, searching for the right word... "Soul-sucking abrasiveness."

"Fuck off, Lexa."

"There's that mouth." Grinned the brunette.

"Bet you miss this mouth." Clarke shoots back.

Lexa's grin widens, "Actually yeah, just had a dream about it the other night."

"You dream of my mouth before or after it called you a lying traitor?"

Lexa takes a slight step closer to the blonde, ignoring the camera flashes going off outside the front window.

"You've called me worse." She utters smugly.

"I said fuck off Lex."

"Or you could fuck me yourself."

Clarke tries not to show how caught off-guard she is by the quick retort, and especially tries to hide how flustered she suddenly is. She leans into her annoyance at the brazen overconfidence.

"Pretty sure it's the only way you'd be getting fucked tonight...I know a pillow princess when I see one, and THAT," she nods her head back in the direction of Lexa's table and abandoned date, who's now anxiously sipping on her wine, trying not to be obvious at her constant glances towards the pair at the front of the restaurant, "That right there is a girl who is here for the free dinner, the free drinks, and the free orgasms after and that's it."

"Make me a better offer then." Lexa smiles as she tries to step even closer, but Clarke pushes back with a hand up at the girl's shoulder that was now inches away from her.

"There is no offer. I'm surprised you haven't run out of blonde models by now anyway, so enjoy however many you have left before you have to slum it with some brunettes."

"Heyyyyy!!" Raven and Octavia chime from the door, pretending to be offended. Both had been inching closer, shamelessly eavesdropping.

"You never run out of blonde models in LA." Lexa shrugs, "But I don't even know her. I'm just doing my agent a favor, and she's who suggested coming here. What was I supposed to do say 'no actually this was my ex's favorite place and she might possibly be here on this one random Wednesday night?'"

"Sure why not?"

Lexa rolls her eyes, "Are we jealous Clarkey?"

"WE...aren't anything." Clarke snaps, motioning between the two of them.

"Well WE..." Lexa gestures back towards her table, "Aren't anything either...so can you drop the hostility?"

Clarke muses over the girl at the table, "Blue eyes, that's enough for at least a few dates by your standards."

"You're practically insulting yourself at this point you know..." Lexa huffs amusingly. She was having way too much fun getting a rise out of Clarke. The blonde purses her lips, her eyes dropping down to the plush lips in front of her quickly but not quick enough, because Lexa catches it and takes her bottom lip between her teeth, dropping her own eyes to Clarke's mouth for a prolonged moment before bringing them back up to meet blue eyes.

"Can I go now?" Clarke says annoyed, "Your date is waiting."

"She can stay waiting." Lexa breathes as she dares reach a hand around Clarke's lower back, but the blonde is quick to swat her away and step backwards.

"This is not happening...."

"Again." Lexa adds with a smirk.

Clarke rolls her eyes.

"This is not happening again." She corrects. The last time she showed up at Lexa's penthouse she had convinced herself was only out of convenience. It had been a while since she'd gotten laid and the thought of meaningless small talk with a stranger or worse, someone she'd have to face again at work or in some overlapping social circle was too much of a headache. So when she ran into Lexa at a nightclub nearby and got a simple text at bar close saying "Damn Griffin, I know you wore that dress tonight just so I could take it off you. Door is unlocked." She figured it technically wasn't much different than any other one-night stand.

Right?

But in this moment she regrets having fed into the already overinflated ego that is Lexa Woods: Actress, musician, and professional flirt.

She will deal with the heat between her thighs and knot forming in her lower stomach later. If not with whatever name responds first when she leaves here, then with one of her many battery-powered friends in her nightstand.

"Whatever you say, Clarke." The brunette finally scoffs nonchalantly, and with one final lick of her lips, Lexa gives one more intentional glance down at Clarke's mouth before turning to head back into the dining hall, making a show of her return to her table by reaching for the waiting girl's hand and placing a quick kiss on the back of it before taking her seat again and lifting her champagne glass to cheers.

"Damn Clarke I'm impressed... I would have folded." Raven admits, opening the door as they rush out to a waiting town car, flashes immediately going off as soon as they are outside.

"Clarke! Clarke!" A few of the photographers try to get her attention, but she puts a hand up to try and block her face as Octavia gets the car door open.

"Clarke! How do you feel about Lexa bringing a date to your guys' spot?"

"Clarke what did Lexa say to you before you left?"

"Do you enjoy getting paid to harass people?" Raven harps at the small crowd as she follows Clarke and Octavia into the back seat.

Once the door is closed and they pull away, Clarke sighs, rubbing the space between her eyebrows.

"Well if you want her, have at it." She says almost dejectedly. "I told you, it's over between us."

Raven and Octavia exchange a quick glance before Raven squeaks out a response, cocking her head inquisitively.

"I mean.... is it really over now?"

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

Follow along this rollercoaster contest of who can act like they care less....

archive link here

wattpad:

#clexa fanfic #clexa fandom #fanfiction #clexa #ao3 fanfic #clexa fic #clexa fanfiction #modern au #the 100 clexa #ao3 writer

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owl127 · 1 year

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If you take requests, could you please do an alpha firefighter lexa and omega Clarke, where lexa is called to the scene of a fire and freaked out realizing that it's her house and Clarke is injured and trapped inside? Only if it isn't too much trouble please

Three slices of bread. Two medium slices of fresh mozzarella—and not the pre-sliced stuff, but the good, wet, supple kind that Lexa could only find in the farmer's market. Piping red tomato and the lettuce a crunching green, and yes, the roasted beef, dripping in caramelized onions sauce.

It was the perfect sandwich.

"Someone’s happy." Anya sat next to Lexa on the dining table, the hub of the station dying down in the kitchen. They had returned from a call where the police did most of the work, and Lexa finally had time to prepare dinner: the perfect sandwich dinner. "Did you finally learn how to cook?"

"Clarke prepared all the ingredients," Lexa confessed with a mouthful. "I stack them like legos."

"A true chef." Anya stirred her canned soup. "But you’re not smiling like that because of a sammy."

Lexa took her time chewing and nodded at Lincoln as he perused the fridge. He emerged with a pink Gatorade and chugged it down in four long gulps. Lexa placed her sandwich back on her plate with the care of someone dealing with something precious. "I got the ring," she said, and Anya froze with her spoon halfway to her mouth.

"No shit. For real?"

"For real."

"Holy shit, Lexa, congrats!" Her captain patted her on the back, and Lincoln joined them at the table.

"What happened?" he asked while trying to grab Lexa’s sandwich, but she swatted his hand away.

"Lexa is finally going to propose."

"For real?" Lincoln’s cheer was a paradox in his hard-angled face; his smile and eyes were always so kind. "Congrats!"

"Griffin is going to flip," Anya added. "I need to tell Raven."

"Don’t tell her yet!" Lexa protested. "We’re going to her dad’s hunting cabin this weekend. I want it to be a surprise. So no telling Raven or Octavia." The last warning was for Lincoln, who mimicked a zipper over his lips. "I mean it," she threatened, and her cousins shared equally innocent looks. "Hell, I really want it to be—" The blaring station alarm sounded, and the firefighters reacted on impulse, dropping everything to answer the call. Lexa took the biggest bite she could from her perfect sandwich and ran to grab her uniform. If they were lucky, it would be their last call of the night.

The cops had formed a perimeter when they arrived, and Anya instructed their crew to check the victims in both cars. Lexa followed Niylah to the first vehicle, while Anya and Lincoln went to the second, overturned one. "Call if you need help," Lexa shouted, and Anya nodded. A bad crash, but the truck Lexa checked was in better shape, and they had the victims in the ambulance in a short time. The second ambulance arrived, but there was no sign of Anya and Lincoln. Lexa caught Anya’s eyes between the first responders' crowd of police officers and paramedics, seeing the concern there. She understood it as a call for help and trotted in the direction of the upside-down SUV.

She didn’t notice at first. She didn’t read Anya’s concern as a warning and approached the car, kneeling down. Lexa didn’t recognize the vehicle, running on the adrenaline of the call. She didn’t recognize anything. And then she saw it; blonde hair spilling on the car ceiling, pink with blood; unconscious arms down and unmoving; and eyes she knew so well closed and unblinking. If she weren’t kneeling, she would have fallen. Pain flared at a grasping hand on her rough uniform collar, a thumb pressing down on the base of her throat hard enough to leave a mark.

"Can you do it?" Anya asked, eyes flashing in kaleidoscopic emergency lights. "If you can’t do this, I want you out of here." Lexa’s tendons protested in her neck, and she swallowed. She nodded. "Good," Anya continued, "you hold her while I cut the seatbelt. Lincoln and Niylah are ready for her when we take her out."

A loud knocking on the car’s side. "There’s smoke," an officer in full navy uniform said, "you got a few minutes tops." Anya nodded, and Lexa’s heart hammered in her chest as she adjusted to receive Clarke’s weight once she was free from her seatbelt. Blood trickled on Lexa’s uniform, and she grasped her girlfriend tighter. She nodded at Anya.

"One, two, three!" Anya ordered and cut the seatbelt.

The scream that broke from Clarke’s mouth was unlike anything Lexa had ever heard. It was raw, visceral pain, her arms flaring in desperation, hitting Lexa square on the jaw. Lexa was prepared to receive Carke’s full weight on her arms, but realization hit her amid Clarke’s desperate wails.

"She’s stuck," Lexa yelled at Anya, who grunted an affirmative and crawled her way to the passenger’s window. "Clarke, stay with me. It will be okay." Blood flowed rich and arterially on Lexa’s shirt. Clarke, her unfocused eyes landing on Lexa, controlled her sobbing for a single moment. "It will be okay," Lexa promised. "Anya, can you see it?" she asked, her arms burning at her effort to keep Clarke’s weight from pressing on her wounds.

"Two penetrations: hips and calf. I need a saw!" Anya commanded, and Lincoln brought it from the other side of the car.

"One minute!" the same officer from before said, extremely unhelpful.

Lexa held Clarke, smelled smoke, and cursed. The ringing of steel on steel echoed in the crumpled car, and Clarke, feeling the vibration of foreign bodies inside herself, screamed again. She screamed and screamed until she abruptly stopped. Lexa held her with smoke on her nose, blood on her arms, and tears in her eyes. Anya cut the first part off Clarke’s hips—an ugly, sleek black piece of metal jutting from skin and muscle. More weight fell on Lexa’s arms.

"I need another saw!" Anya yelled from above Lexa, working on the second wound.

"Thirty seconds! The fire will spread!"

Lexa wanted to strangle the officer yelling at them. She knew protocol; she knew that in different circumstances, they would leave the car, with or without Clarke.

The gritting sound of the saw resumed, and Clarke’s eyes blinked awake, tears marrying the blood and sooth on her face. "Lex," she cried, sobbing. "It hurts."

"I know, baby, I know, she’s almost done." But Clarke had lost consciousness again. Her face had been red from being upside down, but as Lexa’s uniform grew redder, Clarke’s face turned pale. Lexa swallowed bile.

"You gotta go! Go, go, go!" Yelling from outside the car increased, and Lexa wasn’t only smelling smoke; she was seeing fire, hearing it crack, and hearing the shouts of her colleagues to control it. Her nose was full of blood, chemicals, and smoke. But also Clarke, the woman she wanted to be her wife.

"Lexa, I’m sorry." Anya’s voice was small in the cabin, and Lexa’s heart grew heavy in desperation. She saw Anya’s face, and a sudden calmness took over her.

She nodded and held on tight.

Lexa made it to the hospital 90 minutes later. She would have made it in 80 if Anya hadn’t stopped her at the station. "Shower," Anya had ordered, looking down at the drying stains over Lexa's uniform that coagulated into one long, horrific crimson flag over her body. Lexa hadn't noticed her state in the past hour, trying to balance her work with the other victims, controlling the fire, and finally being able to rush to the hospital.

She saw Abby outside the ICU. Clarke’s mom talked to a doctor in scrubs, and no one had made him change his blood stains. Abby’s jaw worked from afar, processing what the doctor said with sharp nods. Her left finger spun her wedding band constantly, something that Clarke also did with her rings.

"Lexa." Abaya’s voice was rough. "Did anyone call you? There was an accident—"

"I was the first responder." She held Abby's eyes and watched the recognition there—a tired, respectful tilt of her head.

"Thank you," Abby said with the weight of the world, and she also nodded at the doctor. "Thank you for the update, Jackson."

Lexa stood next to Abby in that well-lit hallway, the noise of beeping, scrubbing, and whispering carrying around them. Everything smelled sterile, and Lexa hated it. For the hospital, it was just another night. But for both these women, everything they cared about was intubated inside that door.

Lexa didn't ask. She gave Abby time. "Clarke is in the post-op. They think she will make it."

Lexa exhaled hard, only then noticing she had held a full breath for hours. She almost gagged in relief, a reaction so strong she bent forward and held her hands over her head.

"Thank God," she whispered.

Abby's voice shook as she continued. "They told me it saved her life. That it had to be done. Was it… was it you?" Lexa shook her head.

"I was there with her, though. She was not conscious."

Abby’s ring spinned and spinned and spinned. "Good."

They sat there for hours. They were only allowed to see Clarke the following morning.

Five days later, in a hospital room, Lexa proposed. In its own way, it was perfect.

#ask the owl #drabble drabble drabble #clexa fanfic #clexa #the 100 #the 100 fanfic #modern day au #prompt #thank you for the prompt #I took some liberties...#\o/

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kpforpresident · 2 years

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Clarke inherits expensive plants. Clarke does not know how to care for plants. Lexa, local nursery owner, proceeds to short circuit.

///

The door chimed, a cheery little note that pulled Lexa out from where she was intently reading, chin propped up in her palms. She sat up from her slouch, absentmindedly reaching out a thoughtful hand to reach for a rapidly-cooling cup of coffee as her eyes scanned the page, flicking over the words she had read dozens of times before. Lexa took a sip as she sat up straighter, pasting on her megawatt customer service smile as the shoes got closer, eyes still glued to her page.

Lexa’s finger pressed into the ink of her current line that her eyes were currently following as she raised her voice to be heard over the influx of noise that rushed into the shop with the door now opened- taxis honking, vendors selling their wares, the hustle of the city pouring into her cozy little shop in the downtown core of Polis–

“Be with you in a moment,” Lexa called into dim of the shop front, finishing her page and sliding in the crumpled hardware shop receipt that was currently serving as her bookmark.

Shutting the worn red cover and pushing into the side of the desk, Lexa turned her face up expectantly, expecting to see the usual harried boyfriend rushing for a bouquet or dutiful partner coming in to buy flowers for their beloved. Instead, she was met with the bluest pair of eyes she’d ever met, and a sweet dimple placed slightly off kilter in a beautiful chin. The owner of these two wonderful features looked down on her amusedly, a slight smile touching her face as she slid a black knit cap off of golden hair into a wool coat pocket.

“Not interrupting, am I?” the girl spoke, a wonderfully raspy voice emerging from a pair of rosebud lips as she carefully made her way through the various buckets of water that were on the shop floor, all filled to bursting with colorful sprays of flowers in every shape and size.

Lexa floundered slightly as she shot off of her stool, the worn wooden seat creaking in betrayal as it nearly tipped over with the force of her velocity. Blushing furiously, Lexa scrabbles to find some semblance of cool in front of this beautiful woman.

“No, it’s all great, all good-” she manages to squeak out about two octaves higher than her normal register, blushing furiously as she tries to awkwardly clear her throat. The blonde quirks an amused eyebrow as she plants a hand on the worn wooden counter, looking around interestedly as Lexa silently berates herself for being the poster child of a Worthless Lesbian that Anya always teases her about.

“I’m Lexa, I own this shop- how can I help you today…” Lexa trails off as she flicks her eyes meaningfully to the blue ones that sparkle in front of her, hoping she’s not being too blindingly obvious in how badly she’d like to know this woman’s name.

“Clarke,” the goddess supplies, flashing a bright smile at Lexa as she drops her arms back to her sides after running a thoughtful fingers across a nearby blushing rose.

“Clarke,” Lexa says again, enjoying how Clarke’s eyes crinkle when she smiles. She leans a hip against the counter, enjoying the sweet honeysuckle perfume that floats through the air when Clarke moves.

“Lexa,” Clarke echoes as she leans onto the counter again, a sheet of wavy blonde hair spilling from behind her ear as her head tilts. “I have a favor to ask, I’m afraid.” Clarke fishes a hand in her pocket as she speaks, pulling her phone out as she stares at Lexa expectantly.

“Anything,” Lexa breathes seriously, fighting back another blush as another grin steals across Clarke’s pink cheeks. Fighting the urge to go slam her head into the workroom’s wall, Lexa rallies as she bends over the counter to peek at the glass phone screen Clarke is brandishing expectantly at her.

Her eyebrows draw together confusedly as she focuses on the small screen in front of her, tilting her head to avoid the glare that’s shining off the fluorescent glare of the shop lights.

“It’s a Thai Constellation Monstera, and a beautiful one,” Lexa says appreciatively as she hands the phone back, marveling at the large, white-flecked variegated plant that takes up the entirety of the phone screen, potted in a beautiful terracotta pot. “That probably cost an arm and a leg.”

“Yes, that’s the problem,” Clarke grumbles as she stowes her phone away again, expression akin to a flaxen-haired thundercloud. Lexa quirks an eye amusedly as she moves from the other side of the counter, bending to straighten a blush rose arrangement before moving to grab some greenery arrangements she needs for a wedding bouquet she’s making for a client this week.

Clarke blows a strand of hair out of her face as she follows Lexa around the shop, watching as Lexa collects fine clusters of white baby’s breath, swatches of Eucalyptus, and piles of shiny green leaves before heading back to the counter and dumping her spoils on the weathered surface. She snips a few lengths of twine as she methodically begins to sort through the pile to start the centerpieces, waiting patiently for Clarke to finish her thought.

Clarke picks up a strand of twine and begins toying with it as she speaks, watching Lexa work.

“My gallery owner gave it to me as a congratulations project for landing a huge gallery spotlight and increasing my clientele, but I didn’t know how to tell him I can barely keep myself alive, let alone a plant that costs more than a month’s groceries,” Clarke mutters, raking an aggravated hand through her hair as she moves her gaze up to fix Lexa with a pleading look. Lexa hides a smile as she meets Clarke’s gaze, neatly tying off another flower bundle with a flourish.

“Ok, and,” Lexa prompts, at a loss. Judging by Clarke’s reaction, she thought it wise to not tell her that the particular plant she had probably cost two month’s worth of groceries. “Would you like some tips, ownership tricks?”

“Yes, please,” Clarke breathed, relief smoothing out her crumbled brow. “That would be fantastic.”

She and Lexa beam at each other for a moment as Clarke jams her hat back on her head, taking a hasty glance at her watch before moving towards the door.

“I have a curator appointment in fifteen minutes, otherwise I’d love to stay,” Clarke says regretfully, one hand hovering on the door handle. “Can I drop by tomorrow to give you my address, and we can set up a date?”

It’s Lexa’s turn to look confused as she gapes at Clarke for a moment. Did she say a date?

“Your address…?” Lexa asks confusedly, reaching for her stool as she takes a hesitant seat.

“Yeah,” Clarke says hesitantly as she takes a step back into the shop, the door closing, a gush of late-autumn air swirling through the air as it does. Lexa shivers slightly, pulling her sweater sleeves over her hands. “I was hoping you could….come over? And look at the plant, and walk me through what to do and what special plant things to buy? I have only successfully kept like two cacti alive before this, and that’s only because my best friend tells me they thrive on neglect.”

Clarke twists her hands in front of her as she trails off, still looking hopefully at Lexa with those huge doe eyes. Lexa snaps her mouth shut as she nods once, still scrambling for words.

“I- yeah, sure,” Lexa manages to choke out, slamming her mouth shut before she says something dopey like “please can I take you on a date, you’re gorgeous and I want to worship the ground you walk on, even if you are a self-professed plant killer.”

A smile breaks across Clarke’s face, sunshine after a heavy rainstorm. She prompts the door open again with a foot, looking apologetically across the store as Lexa shivers again.

“It’s a date,” Clarke says with a wink, stepping so that only a slender hand props open the door. “I’ll drop off my address and number tomorrow and we can set something up. Do you have any allergies, by the way?”

“Yeah, sounds good, no allergies,” Lexa parrots back before she processes what Clarke said, the door rattling shut as Clarke walks off down the sidewalk with a smile on her face. Wait, what? Lexa vaults over the counter, barely clearing the flowers before she hits the ground running. She throws open the door, poking her head out and looking frantically in each direction before spotting a black beanie a few meters away.

“Wait, CLARKE!” Lexa yells down the sidewalk, giving a frantic smile to the woman who dodges her with a thin lipped grimace. Lexa is hanging out of her shop’s doorway like she’s flagging down a plane, garnering more than a few weird looks as she does so. Clarke turns and walks back a few steps towards Lexa, raising her eyebrows in the universal “yes, and,” gesture.

“Sorry, I know you’re late, but, allergies?” Lexa manages to splutter out. She’s never been as thrown off by someone she just met, and that’s saying something as her brother is dating Octavia, the human version of the energizer bunny.

“Yeah, allergies,” Clarke laughs as she pulls gloves out of her pocket and puts them on as she talks, the nip of the afternoon biting pink onto her cute sloped nose. ‘“I can’t let good looking girls fix my plant problems without wining and dining them, now can I? As long as that’s ok?” Clarke looks slightly concerned as she finishes her sentence, clearly nervous that she’s overstepped.

“Yeah,” Lexa breathes as an involuntary smile cracks her face. “That’d be great- I’d love to.”

Clarke ducks her head a little, a blush stealing across her cheeks before she makes eye contact with Lexa again.

“It’s a date, then.”

Lexa watches for a minute as Clarke breaks into a sprint down the street, giving a little wave as she heads off, clearly almost late to her meeting. Smiling to herself, Lexa turns to head back into the shop, a little extra bounce in her step.

If the next few customers get extra roses in their bouquets, they’re certainly not complaining.

#modern au #clexa #anon prompt #i wrote about this plant because I want to own one #they are so pretty #but stupid expensive #kpprompts

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