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Looking For the Magic (Pt 1)
Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.
Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content
Part 1 under the cut.
Life was annoying, Anya decided.
You’d wake up, go through a bunch of tedious routines, sometimes work, find time to eat a few times a day, and then you’d sleep. Rinse and repeat. And when she was always surrounded by imbeciles, well, that didn’t make her situation any better. No, life was annoying, even if the other witches in the coven weren’t so convinced.
They’d been on some tiresome road trip up north to a place where a historical coven was founded, resting atop an intense intersect of ley lines. Anya couldn’t quite bring herself to care about history in freezing weather, especially while she crammed into a large hotel room, surrounded by a half-dozen people she didn’t really care for aside from her cousin, Lexa.
Or, well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, as her eyes found a familiar blue-eyed blonde across the room, shivering in an empty corner and alone. Of course, she wasn’t exactly friends with Clarke Griffin, but the girl had always caught her eye, and aside from her beauty, she seemed sweet enough. Call her a sap, but Anya was a sucker for a nice girl with a pretty smile, and Clarke’s? Well...
Anyway, they’d made their pilgrimage up north, only to run into a blizzard. Not exactly a surprise given it was the dead of winter and the forecast had been calling for storms in the area for the past week. Didn’t exactly surprise them, or at least it shouldn't have.
Sure, one of the elder witches could have used her abilities to still the stormy weather outside, or simply have let Anya do the honours, but that would break 'the code' and potentially draw unwanted attention, so instead, they were holed up in hotel rooms for the night, waiting for the storm to pass.
She understood, of course. It was literally her role in the coven to uphold the code and to subdue outside threats who would try to break it for their own means. Still, she hated freezing weather.
And maybe because of her own stormy mood through the whole trip, the others had grabbed up spots on the beds, leaving her to curl up on the floor with her oversized blankets. Which, whatever. They might not be able to quell the storm outside, but her affinity was elemental magic; she was just fine under her blankets, channeling a bit of heat to warm herself and the space she was resting on.
Clarke, on the other hand, hadn’t managed to grab a spot on the beds in time, and looked absolutely miserable off in the corner, quivering like a leaf. Whatever specialty the other blonde had, it didn't include anything involved with heat, that was for sure. While Anya had never been known to be the most hospitable person to relative strangers, this was Clarke Griffin, the certifiably cute girl she might have had a bit of a crush on for ages.
Sure, she'd never managed the guts to talk to her when she was younger, and left their stream to graduate into a different coven before she could even remotely become friends with her, but the feelings had remained over the years. They only grew again after her transfer to their current coven. Not that she'd act on those feelings, certainly not so brusquely, but she could finally extend an olive branch to her crush. There were worse things than sharing her sleeping area.
“Clarke...Clarke...” She whispered across to the blonde, letting out an annoyed growl when the girl didn’t register her voice. When blue eyes darted towards her at the sound of her frustration, she could only roll her eyes. “Do you want hypothermia? Get over here!”
Clarke eyed her blankets with clear yearning, but shook her head. “They’re yours. I don’t want to bother you.”
Anya let out a scoff and threw her blankets back a little, enough to hold out a hand palm upwards, summoning a small flame after a brief whispered incantation. “Don’t be dense. I don’t want you to freeze to death. Plenty of room here for us both.”
Clarke hesitated for a few moments before letting out a lengthy sigh and crawling over to her. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Anya flung the blankets back and patted the spot beside her, watching as Clarke settled down onto it, an immediately relieved smile blooming on the girl’s face. "Oh wow, it’s so warm. Thank you." Clarke murmured, only seeming more content with the warm blankets that were draped over her. "Remind me to sit by you on the bus ride tomorrow."
“Whatever. Just sleep.” Anya mumbled as she let out another burst of warmth into the pocket of air they were sharing, doing her best not to show how happy and excited she was that Clarke had taken her up on her offer, and that the girl was maybe considering sitting by her on the bus tomorrow. Looking overeager only ever led to rejection, she learned that the hard way.
Clarke did indeed sleep, zonking out almost right away, which made for a double-edged sword.
On one hand, Anya wasn’t being kept up by Griffin talking, or moving around trying to get comfy, or anything like what she often dealt with when sleeping over at Lexa’s. However, the silence and ever-present steady breathing coming from her gave Anya’s mind a lot of space to think about the future. About a potential friendship with Clarke. About maybe potentially something else off into the future if Clarke swung that way and wound up single.
Between her thoughts and how tired she was, Anya fell into a haze, half asleep and slipping in and out of shallow dreams and semi-conscious thoughts on the girl beside her.
Honestly, she wasn't sure how much time had passed, and figured she was stuck in a dream for a few moments before she pieced together that the sudden warmth and curious wetness was real, that the sounds coming from Clarke were actually happening, and that the other blonde had actually closed the distance.
Anya needed a few more moments for the location of the wetness and friction to register, and a few seconds longer to think past the fact that Clarke had woke her up to recognize that maybe it'd be a good idea to see what was going on, since Clarke was definitely straddling one of her thighs and all.
"Clarke...? Whuh you doin'?" Anya slurred out, blinking away her sleep. She moved to roll away from the girl, but Clarke held fast and, more than that, held her down, body writhing against her, hips rolling against her right thigh.
It didn't seem possible, didn't seem real, but Clarke was humping the hell out of her, and sounded like she was close, a small annoyed grumble signaling that the blue-eyed beauty was quite content with where she was.
"Clarke, I'm not a damned pillow you can..." She started to say, hand reaching down to tilt the other blonde's head up to face her, not wanting Clarke to be able to ignore her. Except, it was clear as day, even in the dimness of the room, that Clarke wasn't exactly present, given how completely dazed the girl looked, as if her body was just on autopilot. Anya wasn't sure how to feel outside of deeply confused as she lay there, Clarke's climax building as her thigh got more and more soaked.
In all honesty, she was concerned. She'd heard of sleepwalking, talking in your sleep, that sort of thing. Anything remotely sexual while asleep? Anya had chalked that particular notion up as a myth before tonight. None of her past partners had even remotely done anything sexual while zonked out.
Yet, the quiet whimper and tight grip as Clarke's body shook, the girl clinging hard to her as an orgasm ran its course, let Anya know it was anything but a myth. And Clarke certainly wouldn't have behaved like that if she had full control of herself, so Anya knew she needed to take care of this properly, make sure Clarke was safe. After all, that was her role in the coven, so it wasn't as if anyone would think it strange; she'd physically defended their coven and innocents, and she'd hidden or destroyed harmful secrets. A wide range of tasks was in her job description, so protecting Clarke from whatever fallout there could be from this was her responsibility.
It wasn't as if she was head over heels and taking orders from her heart or anything like that, after all.
Slowly, the tension bled out of the blonde atop her, and Clarke's relaxed body curled up against her with a happy hum.
While all Anya wanted to do was catch a few more hours of sleep, especially with Clarke snuggled up halfway atop her, she knew she couldn't leave Clarke until the morning, when others might be up. Discretion seemed like it'd be important, given the circumstances, and Anya didn't want Clarke to be embarrassed. Even if she herself had suffered worse, she wouldn't wish anything of the sort for Clarke.
Gently, she took hold of the girl's shoulders and shook, jostling Clarke repeatedly until tired eyes fluttered open, a furrowed brow and an annoyed pout meeting her gaze. Clearly, she didn't like her sleep being disturbed.
"What? Tryin' to sleep, Anya." Clarke grumbled, letting out a frustrated huff as she propped herself up on an elbow.
Anya swallowed, unsure what words were appropriate, but that she needed to say something. "Clarke, you need to wake up."
Clarke's head cocked to the side in clear confusion, the girl moving to shift from her spot nestled against her when Griffin just froze, eyes widening. "Oh shit....oh shit shit shit..."
Clarke immediately went to move away, but Anya didn't like the sheer panic written on the girl's face, so she wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist, holding her in place. "Don't freak out, it's whatever." Anya stated in her best reassuring voice, but Clarke wasn't having any of it. Even in the low light, she could see the glassiness of Clarke's eyes clearly. "How about we just take it easy for a bit, Clarke?" She added, reaching up to brush a fallen tear from the girl's cheek.
"I have no idea how to do that." Clarke grit out in a harsh whisper as she leaned away, breath hitching as a wave of realization seemed to wash over her. "Oh goddess, you must hate me now!"
Anya rolled her eyes, unsure how Griffin got that impression at all. With as much courage as she could muster, she reached down with a hand and ran her fingers across the slick coating atop her pajamas. Without a moment's hesitation, she brought it up and lightly smacked Clarke in the cheek with her wet fingers, stunning the girl.
"Stop it. You weren't in control. I don't hold it against you. But we need to clean up, and you need to calm down." Anya spoke slowly, holding Clarke's gaze, halfway wishing she could see the blues of her eyes, but she'd take what she could get. Anya maintained eye contact and waited as the other girl's breathing slowed and evened out. "You're okay. Tell me when you're good to head in."
Clarke nodded and kept working at her breathing. "I don't understand why you're not freaking out."
Anya swallowed hard and let out a heavy breath. "Not the exact same deal, but I might sort of know what it's like." Of course, she'd dealt with her own mishaps alone, in secret, no witnesses to be had, but she could empathize. She knew how scary it was for her body to betray her, and how embarrassing or humiliating it could feel to deal with the aftermath. Clarke deserved as much support through it as she might have liked in ideal circumstances.
Clarke let out a hollow laugh as she shook her head. "I doubt that."
Anya took the dismissal in stride, knowing she probably would have said the same in Clarke's shoes. "If you can talk, you can walk. Let's get washed up." Anya noted, rolling out from under Clarke and grabbing their luggage, hauling it quietly into the hotel room bathroom. Clarke followed her in a few moments later, her posture of movements all screaming discomfort and caution. "You want to shower first, or after?"
Clarke kept her eyes downcast, cheeks fiercely red under the harsh fluorescent lighting. "Second. Again, I'm sorry." Clarke reiterated, slumping back against the sink. "I didn't mean to. It's just...I'm not on meds for it yet. So I just...yeah. Sorry."
She cocked her head, brain whirring away at the other girl's words, wondering what medication might help with it. "You don't have to apologize. Is this...is this common, though?"
The immediate red tint at Clarke's cheeks almost had her heart thrumming faster than the sharp, steely glare Clarke shot her way, even if that glare only lasted a second or two. "I didn't fucking cum all over you because you're special or something. Don't take this as something it's not."
"I apologize, and I just didn't think you'd...well. It's just I woke up with you straddling my thigh, and you were a foot or two away before..."
"I'm a restless sleeper!" Clarke hissed in a barely muted whisper, head angling back to let out an exasperated sigh. "I sleep with a body pillow, so I'm constantly shifting around and ready to latch onto what’s soft and warm nearby. But...anyways, it's happened before. You weren't the reason."
Anya shook her head. "I wouldn't think I was. We don't even know each other well. In the end, it doesn't matter...I just want you comfortable, Clarke. I'm doing a bad job of it, and I'm sorry for that." She said, her mouth twisting as she pondered her options. It had been a while since she was brazen, or took such a risk in trusting someone, but she knew how horrible being vulnerable could feel. She wanted Clarke to feel a bit more secure, and she could tell the girl felt anything but at the moment.
Mind made up, Anya pulled her t-shirt over her head and pulled off her pajama pants, leaving herself half naked. Even though Clarke's gaze was still fixed on the showerhead, she could see the harsh swallow, the tense lines of her throat. "Look, we both know how it feels for our bodies to do stuff we don't want and can't control. You didn't want me to know about this, and I found out. I can speak words, but promises can't make you trust that I won't tell anyone." She said, waiting for a sign that Clarke was listening, a slight nod, before continuing. "So let's level the playing field, Clarke. Because I trust you not to disclose to the others that I'm trans."
With that, Anya grabbed for a towel and finished disrobing underneath it, allowing herself to be nearly nude in front of another person for the first time since just before her exile from her previous coven. She could feel the dysphoria burning in her gut, threatening to spread out and consume her, but she kept focus on finding her shower products in her toiletries bag, not wanting to make a huge deal out of the revelation.
"If you put your dirty clothes in the sink, I'll wash and dry them later while you clean up." She offered before stepping into the shower, setting her products on the ledge and shutting the curtain.
Anya knew it'd likely be awkward between them, but she hoped, if nothing else, that she'd reassured the other girl even just a little bit. Maybe from that, they could start towards friendship.
Just maybe.
Clarke felt sheepish huddled up on the toilet seat in the biggest towel she could find, but given her situation, it was a necessity. Her sexsomnia had gotten her in trouble with Anya, and the last thing she needed was her fellow witch to be thrust into even more of an uncomfortable situation than they already had been.
It didn't matter what Anya said, Clarke knew the girl had to have taken some issue with what happened. People didn't just get their thighs used for orgasms by a stranger and shrug it off. And even if Anya could for some reason, she certainly woke the girl up in the middle of the night and had her doing laundry. No one liked being woken up to do chores. Still, Anya had been kind of sweet about it all, if a little clumsy, and had gone over the top to make her feel comfortable with it all.
Not that she could, but it was the thought that counted. Clarke couldn't shake the guilt over not having sought out medical help with her situation earlier, but it was a tiny bit comforting to know Anya was being good about it all.
Maybe it didn't hurt that she'd already been crushing on the tall, thorny witch since long before she arrived back in the coven after a few years away. She’d had a longstanding crush on her in their younger years as initiates, and had despaired when Anya suddenly graduated into a different coven than most of their stream, something no one had really expected.
When Anya was welcomed into her coven a little under a year ago, she was different, much thornier and more distant than even before, if also more beautiful, but experiencing this softer side of the girl only endeared her to Anya more. Learning she was trans was a little confusing, and had her off balance for a few minutes, but again, it was clear that Anya trusted her.
That was more than enough to trust her with the rest of the night. Maybe once they were on the bus curled up together, maybe she could have a more than necessary conversation with her about spending some more time together, something she had hoped for once upon a time, before Anya had vanished way back when.
Clarke startled a bit at the sound of the shower turning off. "Just letting you know I'm done in here. Stepping out now."
Clarke moved to the sink, giving Anya plenty of space as she left the shower and grabbed the towel she'd set out.
"Oh, you did leave out your clothes. Good, I can wash and dry them along with mine." Anya continued as she covered up, lifting a hand to her head and emanating some level of heat as the girl's hair dried quickly without frizzing.
Clarke nodded and squeezed past her, stopping on the bath mat. "Thank you, Anya." She murmured before getting behind the shower curtain and tossing her towel out behind her.
The water was still warm, thankfully, letting her get to business quickly in cleaning up. She didn't bother washing her hair, just keeping it up in a bun while she got to it.
Her memory flashed back to when she was being drawn out of slumber, and the brief moment of comfort and contentment at realizing she was cuddled up with Anya. Sure, she'd been annoyed at being woken up, but staring down at a face that was normally so hard and closed off, only to see an oddly soft expression staring back at her, it did something to her.
Maybe she'd like Anya to look at her like that again one day.
It didn't take long to get clean, and she could hear the sink running when she turned the shower off. Careful as she could, she grabbed up her towels from the shower mat and covered herself up before stepping out. Anya was standing over the sink and mumbling, one hand holding up her pajama pants, and the other weaving water through it.
Clarke watched as the girl used a soapy mixture of water in turn, then another rinse and heat to set it. It was strange, basically seeing Anya use her magic to be a human washing machine, but it had her wondering what other ingenious ways the girl could use her specialty.
Her own was a bit simpler. It wasn't much of anything she confided in many others about, not wanting to garner scrutiny. Having the affinity to 'Jedi mind trick' someone, as Raven often put it, was a dangerous ability, especially since that was a bit of an understatement. More Kilgrave than Kenobi, except it did at least require her to make preparations or at least make an effort instead of a thoughtless word potentially being life-threatening.
It was all a big reason why she kept her distance from most in any meaningful way, but maybe Anya wouldn't be horrified. Maybe.
It wasn't until Anya finished with her pajamas that she seemed to realize that the shower was off, startling a little, head swiveling around to gaze in the shower's direction, settling on her. "I put your stuff on the toilet seat. They should still be clean and warm."
"Thank you." She noted sincerely, taking hold of the garments and slipping back behind the shower curtain to change. Embarrassing or not, Anya had cleaned her panties. On top of that, her clothes were all deliciously warm, and by the time she stepped back out, the residual heat was more than enough to make her feel sleepy again. "You didn't have to do any of this. You could have hated me."
"Why would I do that?" Anya asked with a level of confusion so audible and visible that Clarke wondered if Anya had forgotten about what happened out in the hotel room. "Anyways, it's okay. You're part of my coven, so I'm here to help. You're a good person. You didn't do anything wrong." Anya added flatly, shaking her head.
Clarke wasn't entirely sure on what track record Anya was making that judgment, but she appreciated the sentiment. "We should get back to sleep." She let out with a yawn. Anya readily agreed, taking hold of what seemed to be the blankets and their luggage as they quietly left the bathroom, the others in the room still fast asleep. Where the girl found the time to do all the laundry was a mystery to her, but either way, they sneakily made their way back into the room and settled back down where they'd been.
Anya, apparently a gentlewoman despite how she'd woke her up before, laid the blankets out and settled in a good foot and a half from Clarke. Wanting to figure out if it was manners or disgust causing the distance, Clarke shifted closer. "Pssst..." She let out, waiting for Anya's head to turn towards her before continuing. Thankfully, all she saw in the girl's face was confusion. Manners it was, apparently. "Maybe it's paranoia speaking but I'm a little worried it might happen again. I can't predict it. But maybe...maybe if we spoon, I won't be able to do anything even if my body tries?"
Anya blinked slowly once, twice, before offering a small nod. "That makes sense. I don't move in my sleep, so if I fall asleep holding you, neither of us will be going anywhere."
"Well, your arms might relax, but it's still a better plan than any other." Clarke added, earning a quick huff.
"I thought you'd have realized by now...I don't relax very easily. Not even in my sleep." Anya elaborated with an amused smirk, and alright, perhaps that did make a bit of sense, all things considered. The girl was rather intense, and sometimes even sleep couldn't cure folks of that. "But...Clarke...if your body does try to get off on me again, it won't be your fault. You can't help it. There's no shame in that."
It was a sentiment that even if she couldn't fully believe it, she could take some comfort in it.
With a steadying breath, Clarke rolled onto her other side and scooted backwards, stifling a gasp when she felt herself shuffle up against Anya. She tried to focus on a possible future friendship, cuddling on the bus, that soft expression Anya woke her with, anything but the strong arms around her waist or the soft puffs of breath on her neck that might have her thinking of more explicit things. It was everything she could do to whisk those away in hopes she wouldn't bring about another accident in the night.
"Just sleep, Clarke. Tomorrow's a new day." Anya let out in a yawn, the air around them warming up as Anya nuzzled into her shoulder.
As much as she wanted to appreciate the moment, between the heat, her lack of sleep, and the cozy comfort of being held, she found herself slipping away into slumber quickly. She barely got her arms to cover Anya's before dreams overtook her once more.
Anya had woken up alone a few minutes after the rest of the group had started to rise, and as much as she was a little disappointed in that, she was happy to get on with their ridiculous trip. According to Lexa, the coven traveled up to visit the site every five years, and she'd been unlucky enough to transfer in a little under a year ago, just in time to make the pilgrimage.
To make the day slightly more disappointing, Clarke had taken a seat with someone else on the bus. Raven, Anya was fairly sure, but she'd never been the best with names. Still, at least Lexa kept her company, her cousin deciding that she was more in need of company than Costia, apparently. Which, well, wasn't entirely wrong.
It made for an alright bus ride, Lexa's quiet presence helping settle her nerves and keep her temporarily distracted from the ridiculous trip. However when they departed the bus, and Anya saw two members of the council waiting there that had been off-site with various prior duties, she had a feeling that something was up.
When she watched Lexa, Costia, and Nia get called over, she definitely knew her suspicions were confirmed, hanging back to wait for her cousin while the others went off ahead to the old coven's ritual site.
Anya waited, teeth on edge as the group talked, watching Lexa's expression get darker and angrier with each passing second. There weren't many reasons she could think of for the council congregating out of the blue, but one came to mind after the previous night's events.
Anya shook her head. Clarke Griffin was a lot of things, but she never got the feeling that she was transphobic.
Which meant something absolutely hellish was probably happening, so Anya made the executive decision to sweep the premises for any threats, just wanting to help in case there was some imminent danger or threat.
It was when she noticed small groups of their coven's members head off in the direction of the large barn on the property that she felt real concern. So when she was nearing the end of her sweep and got a text from Lexa, telling her to meet her cousin back near the bus, maybe she'd already psyched herself up mentally for something bad.
She'd seen Lexa furious before, and it was clear as Anya approached that her cousin had merely tamped down on those emotions, trying to appear calmer than she was. Maybe that stirred some worry in Anya's chest, but she pushed it aside and leaned up against the bus beside Lexa.
"What's the verdict?" She asked, figuring some sort of vote had occurred, or was currently happening.
"You don't have to worry, it's been taken care of. Just...expect some hostility from some of the council members going forward." Lexa stated, voice hardly suppressing the cold, flinty anger her cousin often let out when threatened.
Meaning that as stunned as Anya was that she'd been outed, as horrified as she was to have been wrong about Clarke, this was also blowing back on Lexa. And that was unforgivable.
"What can I do to make this right for you?" Anya asked, earning a sharp shake of the head from her cousin.
"No. Nothing. We both know Nia's been gunning for my role in the council ever since I was chosen in the rite. She's using this as a sign that I'm undermining the history and tradition of the coven. The council was...split, which is why all the membership is voting. But I promise you, I have enough support for you, you're not going anywhere." Lexa insisted, her calm facade falling away bit by bit, letting her previous fury leak out. "You're as much a woman, as much a witch, as any of us."
Anya nodded along, head feeling like it was full of cotton as she just stared numbly at the barn off in the distance. She'd been told the same thing at her last coven, and had still been exiled. It didn't matter that their goddess granted her a connection to magic, as She did any other woman in the coven. All that mattered to some was how she had been assigned at birth, an absurd thing to get stuck up on, but apparently not a hatred so easily escapable.
"Did they say who told them?" Anya asked, knowing the answer, but just needing to hear it anyways.
"Sienne said a witch she trusted confided with her, and she confided with other council members before bringing it to me." Lexa answered, Anya's fists clenching hard enough for her nails to cut the skin of her palms. Sienne was Clarke's section supervisor, overseeing all the witches whose affinities fell more in line with research and subterfuge.
Her heart twisted in her chest, knowing she'd trusted Clarke with something so important, only to be betrayed. Perhaps it had been wishful thinking, perhaps she'd been foolish, too blinded by her affection to see the truth of Clarke's character.
Anya had woken up that morning hoping to work on a new friendship, but now, with betrayal burning in her chest, with fear for her cousin setting her body on edge, all she could do was hold the line and do whatever she could to protect herself and Lexa. She'd hoped for a new home, a fresh start, but if she couldn't have that, she could at least have her cousin and Costia.
That would have to be enough.
To be honest, the whispering was kind of getting to her.
For the first half of the bus trip, she could tell some of the nearby witches were likely spreading some sort of gossip. Ontari, who was across the aisle from her, kept glancing her way, stifling the occasional laugh as she and her friend whispered away. It was a little annoying, but whatever. The coven had always been a little cliquey.
When they got off the bus, and others would reduce their conversations to a whisper whenever she and Raven were near, that raised a bit of a red flag that maybe something was off.
And when Nia goddamn Frost walked by, staring her down with sheer amusement in her eyes, well, Clarke knew something was going on that involved her.
Given she tended to be pretty low-key within the coven, there was only one possibility that came to mind, but it was hard to accept. Anya, after all, had been so sweet. Anya had trusted her with a secret of her own. There was no reason for the woman to go public about any of the previous night's events.
And yet, she and Anya had been alone. Anya had also been called away not long after they had arrived too meet with the full council, meaning something serious was being discussed. So what other explanation was there?
"Fuck, what is with the rest of the coven today? They're gawking at us like we shit our pants or something." Raven noted with a glare at Nia Frost's retreating frame.
"I made a mistake." Clarke muttered, staring hard in the direction of the barn in the distance. "When something seems too good to be true, it is."
Clarke could see Raven fiddle with the knife at her hip in her peripheral vision. "You need me to beat someone up, Clarkey? You know I've got you, no questions asked."
"Nah. Council's convened, and I'm pretty sure they're throwing the hammer down on her. Probably for 'inciting unrest' in the coven. She'll be someone else's problem soon enough, and...everyone will forget about my crap soon enough." She answered, letting out one last sigh of disappointment, not wanting to waste any more of her emotional energy on Anya. She would feel no guilt over wanting her exiled, and just hoped that people would soon enough forget about her own secret that was clearly spilled.
"And if they don't kick this mystery person out?" Raven asked, eyes narrowing as she shifted weight from one leg to the other.
Clarke turned to face her friend, unable to control the severe expression on her face at the notion. "Then I'll take care of it personally."
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. Amazonで購入 ヤマトから受け取り後 即、iPhoneにDL #GLIMSPANKY #グリムスパンキー#LOOKINGFORTHEMAGIC https://www.instagram.com/p/BqZzcWqgsRS/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=wo0nazvbawpp
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It's a @topochicousa kinda rehearsal. ✨#lookingforthemagic #topochico #jhspedals (at The Shack North Studio and Rehearsals)
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Soundtrack for one of my favorite movies in the past few years, You're Next. Look how beautiful the record is. Sounds great too. #lookingforthemagic #vinyl #mondo #deathwaltz #horror #soundtrack
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@cthibbard @thedigitalgeorge @jtrdanny @danthebassplayer #LookingForTheMagic
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😎 🎵🎶 Dwight Twilley Band #LookingForTheMagic #Honwo #Mushie #Inspired #OhBabyOhBaby https://www.instagram.com/p/BvxVU3cDuyc/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1awldc186l17g
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Looking For the Magic (Pt 3)
Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.
Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content
(Part 1) (Part 2)
Part 3 under the cut.
Clarke sat on the couch with her head in her hands. She'd long since lost track of time, only knowing it had been dark outside for a long while. It'd been too easy to get lost in thought, and while she generally tried not to let her masochistic streak take over, she felt it was well deserved given the circumstances.
Hell, if only just the past year. She'd nearly killed Anya at the last major gathering, and certainly took her out of commission for a week or two. She'd heard from Lexa about Anya's recovery from her poison. Anya had only fully got back to a hundred percent just recently. If it wasn't for the fact that her abilities were so rare and valued by the coven, she definitely would have been exiled for her actions against Anya.
Anya had been taken to trial over her womanhood of all damn things, and villainized by the coven over the resulting schism in the membership and council, and yet she poisoned Anya at a major gathering without consequence. The thought of her having held a vendetta against Anya due to a need for justice seemed absurd now, given Anya was the one deserving of it, from the coven and from her.
I poisoned her, I almost killed her. I did that to her...I did that, and I slept like a baby...what kind of monster am I? Clarke wondered, roughly wiping at her eyes with the joint of her thumb. What the hell have I become?
Clarke wasn't sure she wanted the answer to that question.
She'd rushed out of Anya's room hours ago to leave Anya to rest up, reaching the front door just as the other woman's muffled screams reached her ears. She'd made for the outdoors, but the front door wouldn't budge, neither would the windows, or the second bedroom. They were still trapped, and it was like she could smell the death and decay around her from all the ways she'd hurt and nearly killed Anya in the past ten months, all the ways she'd promoted the woman's post-vote social isolation as some sick, twisted form of payback for what she thought Anya had done. She'd been so caught up in vengeance and her grudge that she hadn't clued in that maybe all wasn't as it seemed.
And now there they were, both having paid someone else's price many times over, both trapped together still, and both in recovery, if differently.
She wouldn't cry, couldn't cry, not when Anya was suffering one room over. Not when she'd just been brutalizing a weakened, defenseless version of the woman not long ago. Her stomach was rumbling but she couldn't handle eating any more of the pizza Anya made. Just knowing she'd feasted on it, and left Anya heaped on the ground for hours, when the woman had probably been hungry to start with, it all made Clarke feel sick to her stomach.
She wasn't raised to be cruel. She needed to do better, be better. If Anya had faith that she could, then she had to at least try.
"Anya must be so hungry and sore. I...I can help with both." Clarke muttered to herself as she got up from the couch and made her way to the kitchen. She turned the oven on and got to making a smoothie, figuring the woman could use as much food and nutrients as she could handle.
It wasn't long before she had a nice cool protein smoothie and a bit of reheated pizza in her arms. Her heart quivered in her chest at the knowledge of who was on the other side of the bedroom door, the evidence of what she'd done waiting on the bed, but she pushed past it. Anya deserved better.
Clarke opened the bedroom door and stilled in the doorframe, eyes poring over the scene carefully, not wanting to disrupt the woman if she was sleeping. That question was answered in a moment when Anya reached up a hand, wiped at her face, and carefully sat up against the headboard. "Do I smell food?"
She let out a sigh of relief at being able to put her plan in motion and quickly made her way to bed, hesitating for a moment before taking a seat beside her fellow prisoner. Anya looked to be in better shape, her healing draught seeming to have gotten to work as usual. It was how wet Anya's face was that worried her, knowing it was too cold, and Anya wouldn't be running a fever, so it couldn't be sweat.
"Absolutely. I'm so sorry for depriving you all this time. My head's been scrambled, but it's no excuse. You must be so hungry!" Clarke let out, earning a small nod as those warm brown eyes stared hungrily at the pizza.
She offered the plate out, and Anya quickly set it on her lap and picked up a gooey slice, lifting it to her nose. "Mmmmn, delicious." The woman practically purred before taking a bite of it.
Clarke found herself in the confusing and curious position of feeling blood rush to her cheeks, feeling more and more inconspicuously out of sorts with every delighted moan escaping the woman beside her. If only I could make her that happy... She found herself musing before shutting that thought process down. It wasn't appropriate.
It was an odd sight, though, watching Anya devour three of her pizza bowl slices and then demolish a smoothie, but the look of contentment that spread on Anya's face upon finishing was more than enough to put a smile on Clarke's.
"So I was thinking, your stomach and ribs must still be sore, and while the healing draught's still working away, I don't want you uncomfortable. Should I put together a hot water bottle for you?" She asked, hoping she wasn't rambling or making a ridiculous suggestion.
Thankfully, Anya just gave a small nod, prompting Clarke to hop from the bed and rush out to the kitchen to boil some water. As she waited for the water to cool enough to be poured into the bottle, Clarke found herself thinking back to that night ten months ago.
She'd been so cold and scared, and had been especially mortified when she'd woken up in the middle of the night, but Anya held her. Anya walked her through it, and made sure everything was in order. Anya had comforted her for no reason other than she wanted Clarke to be comforted.
In retrospect, that wasn't the kind of person who could have struck out at her like that, but she'd been naive, easy to manipulate. She was older now, she knew better now. And she had a feeling that together, she and Anya would find who hurt them, who set them against each other, and would make them pay.
But for now, she wanted Anya to feel the way she had back then. So when she returned to the bedroom with the hot water bottle, she couldn't quite will herself to leave. And when Anya turned onto her side, away from Clarke, and slipped a hand under the pillow, she saw an opportunity.
"I can hold it against you, if you want. That way, you can get some rest." Clarke mused openly, watching the other woman for the slightest of movements that might declare her presence unwanted. The heavy sigh that escaped Anya almost had her slipping from the bed, but then Anya's other hand took hold of the covers and pulled them up to her shoulders, holding them there, leaving the hot water bottle unattended.
A silent acceptance of her plan.
Clarke thought she'd feel relieved, but she only felt anxious as she slipped under the covers and gently reached her arms around Anya's waist, carefully holding the hot water bottle in place and hugging it against Anya's abdomen. In essence, she was mirroring Anya's position from all those months ago, but it wasn't until Anya scooted ever so slightly backwards into her body that she felt any serenity about it.
Almost a year. Ten lost months where they could have been this close the whole time. Ten months of lost friendship, of suffering, of so many missed opportunities and experiences.
Clarke closed her eyes and pressed her face into the back of Anya's neck, her arms holding the woman a little more snugly. She had a lot to make up for, but for the moment, she felt she was right where she needed to be.
Everything felt hazy and weightless as she regained consciousness after her lengthy second bout of sleep. Honestly, she was almost entirely pain-free, her shoulder feeling fine instead of the fractured mess Clarke had made of it not a day ago.
The sun was setting, meaning it was getting close to twenty four hours since they'd arrived. It'd been a long ass day, but at least there was a silver lining. And that was wrapped around her waist and a long cooled off hot water bottle.
It was a bit of a one-way situation, if she were honest with herself. She knew the disgust Clarke felt for her. It was the one thing keeping her from tossing the hot water bottle out of the way and bringing those soft hands to her waist where a guilty part of her might want them, knowing Clarke introduced that barrier for a specific reason.
She couldn't afford to be selfish when she still had yet to salvage a working relationship with the other woman. After all, they'd have to work together to weed out those who had set them against each other. That meant some level of amicability between them, which despite all the miscommunication, pain, and grave errors in understanding they'd made, Anya was sure could be an obstacle.
Again, Clarke made no secret in the past how her mere presence would ruin the other blonde's day. Anya had witnessed plenty of times the pure disgust flashing across Clarke's face upon seeing her, before the woman could school her features. Anya would accept the minimal comfort Clarke offered and would leave it at that.
But goddess, if she didn't want to just be wrapped up. With all that she'd learned, all the hardships she'd endured, and perhaps aided by her rather simple personal code of morals and ethics, tentative forgiveness had dropped away much of the deep seated feelings of pain and loss. It left her feeling like she had earlier that year in February, yearning for Clarke to smile at her, and yearning to be close to her. They couldn't turn back the clock, but she could try to get back to something close to where they'd been back then.
Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was twisted given their history and Clarke's violence, but Clarke apologized and showed real remorse. Clarke had been manipulated into being wielded against her. Clarke understood what she did was wrong and wanted to be better. That had resulted in the woman doing what she could to comfort and heal Anya to the best of her abilities, and that was a good first step. That had to count for something with how they both needed to move on from that painful chapter of their lives. And while it was unrealistic to expect things to ramp up to something unexpected, Anya couldn't help how she felt, how her memories of her early-mid teen years kept being drawn to the surface now that she didn’t have the spectre of Clarke’s hostility hanging over her anymore.
It was embarrassing. She was a warrior in their coven. She was the sword the council wielded when they wanted something to burn or bleed, but all she wanted in that moment was for Clarke to hold her close and tell her she'd never be hurt again, that it'd all be okay.
It was absurd, but it was what it was. Anya could deny a lot in life, but she knew her heart, and she knew it well. No point pretending she didn't still feel something for Clarke underneath it all.
Didn't change that she couldn't do anything about it, and that she had the willpower to keep to that resolution. At least barring any unforeseen changes.
Though, when Clarke let out a sleepy, annoyed grunt and pushed the water bottle away, Anya might have been frustrated that her will was being tested so soon. And when Clarke's arms settled all cozy and snug against her waist, all she could do was decide that she'd remain very still and quiet, and let Clarke figure out what to do when she woke.
And, well, Clarke deserved a good bit of rest after everything, too. Mental and emotional trauma needed recuperation as well as anything else.
It was maybe forty-five minutes later when Clarke let out a sleepy groan, which combined with the way the other blonde was nuzzling the back of her neck had her thinking she was waking up. Clarke only needed a few extra seconds to confirm it herself.
"Mmmghhn, what time is it?" Clarke mumbled as arms tightened around Anya's waist, nose trailing a brief path down to the crook of her neck.
"Doesn't matter. Go back to sleep if you're tired." She answered quietly, knowing she could stay where she was indefinitely, even if she could probably make good use of the bathroom.
Clarke's arms detached from her immediately, and the warmth of Clarke's body was gone in half a second, the other blonde scurrying away to the other side of the bed in a panic. Well, I guess that confirms she's still disgusted with me...
"You're not in pain, are you?" Clarke asked, thankfully bringing up a topic she could easily go on about if needed.
"Only slight aches now. Whatever that potion was, it's done wonders." Anya relayed, pulling the covers up over her body from where they'd fallen away. It was winter and, wards or not, the cottage was chilly. She didn't exactly have magic to keep her warm.
"That...that's good. Very good. Are you hungry?" Clarke asked, seeming abnormally scattered. She didn't have to put much thought into it, though, since the sound of Clarke's stomach rumbling was sign enough that one of them was.
"Not really, but you are." She said as she reluctantly got out of bed. "I'll wash up then make something to eat."
Clarke let out a loud huff. "You should be resting!"
"And you should be sleeping still, but I guess it's not in the cards, either." Anya called over her shoulder. By the time she finished in the washroom, Clarke still hadn't left the bedroom, which gave her plenty of space to figure out something to eat.
While she hadn't been Clarke's friend these past years, she did end up getting to know a number of things about the woman through Lexa and the time they were forced to spend near each other at events. Clarke had a deep love for gumbo, the spicier the better, but Anya didn't have the time or ingredients to make it, as she checked around. There was enough for her to make pizza about seven or eight times over, but not so much with gumbo.
But she did know Clarke was a fan of chicken and spicy things, so she went about collecting ingredients for an old southwest wrap recipe she used to make when she had a busier schedule and less time to cook. She wasn't big on spicy stuff after just waking up, so maybe she used an extra pan for her own recipe, but it was worth it.
"What smells heavenly?" She heard from the direction of the bathroom just around when she was finishing up with the wraps, filling Clarke's with some extra chicken before folding the ends.
"Food's up. Chicken wraps." Anya answered, plating both of theirs before taking hers to the living room couch. Mostly because there was a cozy blanket there, and a fireplace nearby if she chose to use it.
She was just getting comfortable under the large blanket when a freshly showered Clarke rounded the couch, plate in hand, and scooted in beside her. Sure, the blanket was large enough to cover the both of them, but Anya could hardly keep from pressing against the armrest, wanting to ensure Clarke had all the space she needed.
Anya could feel Clarke's eyes on her as they ate in silence, leaving her completely unsure what was coming next. She'd slept, gone to the washroom, and will have eaten. Nothing to excuse her from Clarke's presence that would likely come across as polite.
"Are you scared of me?" Anya found herself choking on her wrap once she processed Clarke's words, needing a moment to steady herself and take a drink of water before she could even consider a reply.
"No." It was the truth, though after a quick glance, she could tell Clarke wasn't so convinced.
"Then why did you move away from me? And you couldn't get out of the bedroom fast enough, and when I came into the kitchen to get food, you practically rushed to the couch. Like, I'd get it if you are, obviously, and it wouldn't be my place to tell you not to be." Clarke detailed, and okay, perhaps that interpretation made a bit more sense, but it wasn't fear driving it. Just a sense of self-preservation and not wanting to have any more of her ego destroyed.
"I'm not scared. I trust you when you say you won't willingly hurt me. I'm merely giving you your space, Clarke. You've made no secret in the past about not wanting to be near me." She explained at length, hoping to just finish the subject and move on to something else or maybe even a comfortable silence.
"But that was when I thought you nearly ruined my life, and were out to get me." Clarke noted, not really addressing the point at hand.
"Regardless, it still leaves all of that clear...disgust...you have for me. Just because I didn't do what you thought I did doesn't erase that gut instinct. I understood why you used the hot water bottle as a barrier, Clarke. I understood, and I appreciated what you did for me, but you don't have to pretend. I'd honestly prefer you don't." Anya rambled as she curled up further into the corner of the couch, wishing she could light a flame from a distance and get a fire going. There was rarely anything better than a warm fire on a cold night.
After a second or two of silence, she dared a glance back at Clarke, catching the other woman gaping at her, appearing entirely astonished for whatever reason. After all, it wasn't as if Clarke kept her emotions hidden.
She'd just turned away when she felt Clarke's hand lightly grasp her shoulder. Anya kept her gaze forward. "Anya, I've...goddess, I've never been disgusted by you. Take your pick from hate, loathe, whatever, but...not that."
"I know what I've seen, Clarke. You don't have to pretend we're working with clean slates in every area when we're not." Anya pushed, needing to have this topic of discussion done and over with. With the way her heart was thudding in her chest from just having Clarke's hand resting against her, she needed to avoid getting any hopes up.
"No, you don't...urgh!" Clarke blurted out, following her attempt at a denial with a long, drawn out groan. "Look, it's really embarrassing, but yeah, I was disgusted. With myself."
Anya's head swiveled unbidden to face the other woman, more out of confusion than anything else. "How does that make any sense?"
"I'd see you, and sometimes it wouldn't register that it was you initially, but then I'd recognize you, and I'd just...I'd disgust myself with how I reacted to seeing you. It wasn't right reacting to my enemy like that, someone who I thought hurt me so much. I figured I shouldn't have felt what I did, but I did, and I hated that. It disgusted me that as much as I hated you, it could never kill the part of me that thought you were..." Clarke rambled, voice trailing off as she stared at her hands, shaking them in the air and biting her lip in clear frustration for whatever word she couldn't seem to speak.
Still, Clarke had opened the door, broken the dam, whatever. She needed to know. "Thought I was what?"
Clarke's blue eyes flitted her way, a defeated sigh escaping her as her cheeks bloomed red. "Ithoughtyouweregorgeous." The woman spoke quickly and quietly, syllables mashed together in a near incomprehensible mess of sound.
It took a few seconds for Anya to make sense of it, but when it clicked, she was fairly certain her cheeks were equally as flushed. "Oh." She added, needing to give some response despite her confusion, seeing Clarke's nerves escalate visibly.
Honestly, it was hard to fathom that all that time, Clarke had been disgusted at feeling attraction towards her. It potentially made a small amount of sense, even if it took some mental gymnastics, but her shy eyes and anxious posture had Anya thinking Clarke was about a second away from imploding from a deadly mix of mortification and rejection, so she couldn't deny it might be the truth.
And honestly, with the truth thrown her way, especially given Clarke didn't have to disclose it, Anya felt a need to balance the scales. "I had the biggest crush on you, growing up." She continued, immediately feeling the intense heat of Clarke's gaze on her as she kept her focus on the fireplace. Anya wasn't sure she could speak the words face to face, but she could at least air them out. "Goddess, I tried to convince myself back then that it was a small thing, but my eyes would always look for you at the events for initiates. And when I was back home...I was a shit drawer, but when I'd sketch, I'd almost always end up doing your eyes. Never felt anyone really saw me, and I guess I just liked imagining...yeah."
Anya shook her head at the memories, at the sheer amount of paper she'd covered, crumpled up, and tossed out in her teens. She'd been the most embarrassing kid.
"Was...was that why you had me share your blankets that night?" Clarke asked hesitantly, the hand returning to Anya's shoulder and giving it a slight rub. It was nice.
"Of course not. You were freezing, you needed to be warm. Besides, I remember thinking you were dating someone back then, so my focus was just on keeping you warm, and maybe if I was lucky, we could end the weekend as friends. And then it turned into just wanting you to know I had your back, that you could trust me, that you were safe." Anya explained, putting to words her generally simple evolving plans that night, in case Clarke had any misunderstanding over her reasons. Sure, helping the pretty girl and maybe having a future shot at a relationship if everything went right and Clarke turned out not to be straight was something she'd considered back then, but she had known full well it was a pipe dream.
Anya was far more practical than that.
Clarke moved off the couch, gathering both of their plates and setting them on the coffee table before heading to the fireplace. Anya watched at the other blonde struggled a bit with the equipment stocked there, unable to hold back a smile at Clarke's unfamiliarity, but there was a fire going after a minute or two. Perhaps it was unsurprising that Clarke was thinking much the same thing as she had, given the temperature, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
It was Clarke slipping under the blanket and cuddling up beside her that had Anya feeling a little faint. "I guess it's my turn to return the favor and keep you warm, then." Clarke whispered as soft arms wrapped around Anya's nearest.
Anya wasn't sure what Clarke's angle was, and that was dangerous, but she couldn't bring herself to care when Clarke was warm, and soft, and smelled kind of wonderful.
"Sounds fair to me."
Clarke was a little proud of herself.
Between waking up clinging to Anya's wounded body, learning Anya thought she was disgusted of her, and learning Anya once had a deep crush on her, Clarke could say she'd been reeling for most of the past hour or so.
And yet, she hadn't lost it. Neither had she ran, or fucked up. Instead, she'd pushed forward, clarified problems, and worked to resolve them. In short, when it came to the prospects of leaving the cottage happy and with a new connection, there was hope for her yet.
The fact that Anya was much more relaxed was also riveting. It'd been ten months since she'd seen the woman with anything remotely resembling happiness or peacefulness across her face, and it was a damn beautiful sight. Not one she deserved, but one she would try to maintain for as long as possible.
"So, maybe you'll have to show me some of your sketches some day, see how they match up to the real thing." Clarke mused, breaking a comfortable silence in hopes of some stimulating dialogue.
The sound that escaped Anya was magical. Not since her childhood had she heard Anya laugh, and it sounded like the heavens opening up, but it was the gleeful, surprised smile that had Clarke utterly mesmerized. Maybe her crush had been deeper than she thought as well, because in that moment, all she wanted to do was keep Anya smiling as often as possible, for as long as possible, with some more laughter if she was lucky.
"Clarke, I told you, I'm shit at drawing. Nowhere near as talented as you on that front. Now, sculptures...that's different, but I was always terrible at sketching, even if I loved trying to replicate the blue of your eyes with my shitty pencil crayons. I was such a dork." Anya said, that smile dimming a little as she bit her lip and cast her gaze at the fire.
It was official: nervous Anya was endearing. It didn't hurt that the woman complimented her, either. It wasn't often anyone praised her art.
"More like adorkable. But I'd really like to see some of your scuptures if you'll let me. I'm sure they're great." Clarke probed, hoping for some affirmation, wanting a sign that maybe she and Anya were on the same page. Besides, Anya wielded the full power of the elements; she could only imagine the kind of nuanced control that could give a sculptor.
Anya let out another melodic laugh, and Clarke had to keep from sagging against her over the sweetness of the sound. "I think we could work out a time for you to come by." Anya added with a smile that was endearingly shy, and god, where was this woman all these years? "If we ever get out of this place, that is."
"Bathroom window was still warded. Guess there's still some condition for us to work through." Clarke noted with a roll of her eyes.
"Goddess, whatever Lexa and Costia concocted, I'm thankful, but they're gonna have some explaining to do when we get out of here." Anya agreed with a slow nod.
Anya's words stilled the thoughts in Clarke's mind, all of her brainpower focusing on a certain t-word. "What?! You're thankful? Even after everything?"
Anya turned her head and shot her the kind of smile you give when someone just asked a stupid question. The low, amused laugh made her inquiry even more worth it. "Especially after everything. I lost ten months of my life, Clarke, on top of so much more. I don't want to waste another second."
Clarke was sure her heart stopped for how silent everything went. Her mind was racing, working furiously determine if that was a sign, if it was an in, if it was a green light for her to test out something she'd been thinking about, to take the opportunity put out before her.
It was when her vision focused enough to see that same soft, warm expression on Anya's face as that night in the hotel that Clarke knew what she had to do.
Clarke flung herself onto Anya, hands lifting to cradle Anya's face as she pressed their lips together. For a split second, Clarke felt a debilitating spike of fear with Anya remaining still against her own. Then the heavens opened up alongside those supple lips, Anya grabbing at Clarke's top and pulling her down against her fellow witch's gloriously limber body.
In all her life she couldn't have imagined Anya would be so receptive. It was like playing a really arousing game of call and response; everything Clarke did, every kiss, every time she nibbled at the woman's lower lip, each time she rocked into her, each time she stroked her cheek, Anya would respond in kind with something of her own. Clarke knew what she was good at, and she wanted to give Anya the best she could offer, but Anya was clearly just as busy trying to learn what Clarke liked.
Her heart melted that much more, adoring that dedication.
And when her hips rocked into Anya, bringing an airy gasp from the woman beneath her, maybe Clarke decided to shift her focus on filling the room with more of those sounds. Anya only made it easier, head shifting to nuzzle Clarke's temple, lips a breath away from her ear, close enough to hear every gasp, hitched breath, moan, and whimper she could elicit. That combined with Anya running hands through her hair, nails down her back, palming at her ass, legs writhing against her own, body trembling and arching into Clarke's?
All she wanted was more, more, more of the intoxicating woman beneath her, and Anya was eager to give.
So when one of Anya's hands put a little space between them, Clarke wasn't discouraged, knowing whatever it was, it was important.
"I have some things I need...in my luggage...and I need a quick shower, and...and then can we take this to the bed where it's comfier?" Anya asked as she caught her breath. Honestly, the question was a bit out of the blue, but Clarke was all too happy to help out, even if it might mean waiting a few minutes.
"Sure thing, babe. Anything you need me to do?" Clarke asked, leaning back and letting Anya amble out from underneath her, head shaking lightly.
She took a moment to catch her breath and stared after Anya as the woman grabbed a set of luggage by the wall and hauled it into the bathroom. Honestly, it all felt fast, switching gears like they were, but the fact was that she spent about a full year with Anya as her sworn enemy and a primary focus for her attention. She probably knew Anya almost as well as Anya knew herself, and vice versa.
They'd shared an intense connection since that night; perhaps it wasn't such a massive switch going from enemies to intimate. And finally being able to act on the physical attraction she'd harbored for years, on top of the emotional attraction to Anya and her softer side? Even if Clarke wasn't sure that part of the woman wouldn't disappear in a flash, never to be seen again?
She wasn't letting go of this, at least not easily.
Clarke made her way to the bedroom and hoped that Lexa still kept her stash where she remembered it.
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Looking For the Magic (Pt 4)
Tentative title for Option B, the magical Witch Fic WIP one-shot I’ve been struggling to finish. I’ll be posting blocks of this with the tags #lookingforthemagic and #witchfic, in case you don’t want a few thousand words muddying up your dash. I think mobile still doesn’t use the ‘read more’ function, so I figure this would be as good a workaround for folks.
Content Warning (for the story as a whole): transphobia, cissexism, physical assault, misogyny, sexual content
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
Part 4 under the cut
Anya stood in front of the slightly foggy bathroom mirror, hands on the sink, letting her body cool down a bit to where she could think straight. It wasn't as if she hadn't had sex before, but this was bigger in some ways, and it was the first time she'd had a partner who seemed as into her as she was into them. It was the first time a partner didn't look to expect her to be the so-called 'dominant' one of the two, the 'aggressor', the 'top'.
Not that she couldn't pull it off somewhat convincingly if pushed to, she had in the past, but there had always been a large part of her that wanted to be able to let go completely, and she couldn't do that when she was completely taking care of a partner in a very specific way and performing a role they needed of her. She always had to keep some part of herself hidden away. Usually a major part.
Fact was, yeah, she was a warrior. She was one of the coven's primary weapons, and she'd bash skulls and use her powers to ruin any threat she came across, but when she got back home, she wanted to let go. With her powers, her role in the coven, she always had to be this pillar of strength, and being trans, she had to be bulletproof and fierce to hold her own and keep from bringing about another referendum on her womanhood.
It was tiring. She took care of her coven every day, she protected herself every day. It shouldn't have been too much to ask for someone to want to take care of her, to protect her, even if just sometimes. It shouldn't have been so hard for people to accept that she could be strong in some less traditional ways.
Costia always said being vulnerable, truly vulnerable and open in front of someone, was a show of incredible strength. Maybe it had taken six months of therapy and a being helplessly bedridden for two weeks to bring her around to the idea, but Anya believed it. She wanted to be strong like that for someone, where she wasn't forced to show that vulnerable side of herself, but instead could willingly trust it with another. She wanted to be with someone who could handle that kind of strength from her instead of wanting her to be something she wasn't.
Clarke, as unlikely a candidate as any, seemed up to the task. She seemed to want her for her, no masks, no roles, no fetishistic shit, but Anya just wanted to be sure. Thus, the breather.
"Okay...I can do this. Clarke's apparently always been attracted to me, and was only put off because she thought I leaked her secret. And she's been nice and remorseful since we figured shit out...and I know I've always liked her, except for when she was trying to kill me and when I thought she was transphobic enough to out me. I know there's a risk, but is it wrong of me to want to give this a shot and see what comes of it?" She rambled to herself, taking a few deep breaths before shaking her head. "I hope it's not. I just want this to be okay. She likes me, I like her, and...and she already knows about me, so we're good. We're good. I can at least give this a chance. I deserve a chance at happiness."
Mind made up, Anya grabbed her things and made her way to the bedroom, brow furrowing as the sound of some sort of music met her ears from behind the closed door. Curious, Anya creaked open the door and peeked her head in, being met with the sight of Clarke sitting at the end of the densely towel-covered bed with a pile of pillows at her feet, soft tinkly nature music playing from the old speaker system.
"Clarke, may I come in?" She asked, prompting the woman at hand to shoot up from the bed, posture stiff and nervous.
"Of course, yeah, absolutely, come in!" Clarke let out at a rapid pace, her blushing clear even under the dim, candlelit conditions. "I, uh...I spruced the place up while you were gone."
Anya shot the other blonde a smile, even if it twisted a bit with her confusion as she took in the sight of spare water bottles stacked atop the dresser. "You didn't have to do that, Clarke."
"I wanted to. I know it's really fast, but I like you, and if you want to tone it down and go casual, or go slow, we can do that, too. I just...I wanted to try and make it special. Or as much as I can." Clarke explained, vocal pace slowing there at the end as the woman's gaze fell to the ground.
Anya was almost glad Clarke didn't see the utter shock she displayed at the words. "Special?" She asked, voice dropping to a whisper as she closed the distance to Clarke, enough to reach out and lift the woman's chin with the tips of her fingers. "You wanted to make it special? For me?"
It was unfathomable. Sex had never been very special for her in the past, and now it was her former nemesis taking the initiative to make their time together special. It was both absurd and heartwarming, and had Anya gravitating ever closer to the beautiful blonde before her.
Clarke let out a heavy breath and nodded, eyes still downcast and averted, even after Anya stroked a thumb across her cheek. "I don't understand it all. We go from enemies, to...something else...and my mind's been trying to figure out what you are to me, and every time I make a decision, it keeps telling me I'm wrong, that you're even more important, that I need to be closer. Until now. When I had you in my arms, I just...I knew that's exactly where I'd have to be for us to figure it out together...and I want to figure it out with you. And you deserve better than some quick screw on the couch, Anya."
Astonished, Anya stepped away from Clarke and made her way to the dresser to take in the candles. Some of them were scented, but it was lilac. She liked lilac. "And you think I deserve, what...romance?" She asked, baffled that Clarke jumped through hoops to set a mood for the both of them. It was entirely new territory for her.
"This? Not romance. It's a crude facsimile of it, but it was the best I could do in fifteen minutes with what I could find in the cabin. And the music's not romantic, but it...you know, I'll just go turn it off, actua..." Anya had been mesmerized by the other blonde's rambling up to the point where Clarke started towards the old iPod dock.
Her instincts kicked in quickly. "Clarke!" She yelled out, freezing the other woman in place. Feeling sheepish for yelling and maybe ruining the mood, Anya stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper as she moved up beside the sound system. "Please don't."
"It's just music I use when I paint. I go out and into the woods and nature, and I see so many things, and take pictures and sketches that can't capture it, I need paint. But I can't paint out in the rough, so I come home, and I use this to get back into the feeling, the memories, and...I...I'm sorry it's not more romantic." Clarke finished her rambling with a sigh, head dipping in apparent defeat, contrasting heavily with the adoration blooming in Anya's chest.
"No, don't apologize. Clarke, I love it. It reminds me of simpler times, it's soothing...and it makes you remember your passions." Anya countered, trying to lift the other blonde's spirits, because it really had been a thoughtful touch.
Clarke's head lifted slightly, enough for the woman's sparkling sapphire blue eyes to peer at her through her lashes. "I don't think I'll need to draw on any of my passions if I have you here with me." Clarke murmured, stepping into Anya's space and wrapping arms around her waist. "So what did you have to go get?"
Anya swallowed hard and nodded, shifting back to reality, where everything could potentially fuck up again. "I don't get real wet, or at least it takes time for me to get really wet, so...all the rubbing and friction...it'd start to hurt more than anything soon enough, so I got some lubes. We don't have to use them, we don't have to do anything sexual, we don't..."
"Anya, babe..." Clarke interrupted, lifting a finger to Anya's lips, silencing her. "If you're not ready, that won't change anything for me. We can still be close. We can still figure this out. But if you're ready, then I'm on board. And I'd want you comfortable, and not hurting when we're trying to feel good. I like using lube, too, so it's not a problem for me. Do I need to know anything else?"
She let her eyes slip shut, adding the slightest pressure against Clarke's finger with her lips as she let herself be at ease. Clarke was mindful, and sweet, and showed all the signs that she wanted them both to enjoy each other. That was enough for Anya to push past the last of her major inner defenses.
"I don't stretch all that much. I'm working with a bit more than seven and a half inches of depth. If you're gonna penetrate with something other than your hand...so long as you ease me in, I'm good with most sizes, and if you want it rough anywhere, I'd prefer it be anal, please." Anya spoke once Clarke's finger vacated her lips. She felt a little self-conscious, never having had anyone ask about her sexual boundaries before, even if she usually ended up giving them uninvited. It was reassuring that Clarke took the initiative. "Past that, I really like kissing, my scalp is sensitive in the best of ways, and I'm like a dog...if you play with my stomach, I'll love you forever."
Honestly, she added that last bit in mostly due to nerves and anxiety kicking in, but the way Clarke smiled afterward had Anya feeling warm and fuzzy inside.
"What about you, Clarke? I want to make sure I don't do anything that could hurt you or make you uncomfortable." She added, wanting to make sure Clarke felt included and cared for as well.
Clarke let out a faint "oh", mouth practically a perfect circle before the other blonde gave a nod. "I'm, uh, pretty easy going. Receiving anal's a no-go for me, and my breasts are too sensitive to bite, especially around my nipples. And I need to take my meds before I fall asleep...and if this goes like I think it will, I'll want to fall asleep with you in my arms when we're finished, but I need to take my meds. I put them on the nightstand, I'm set for another dose in two hours, or maybe later if need be. I know they're my responsibility, but if you could help me out?"
"Of course, Clarke." She answered immediately, knowing how important keeping to a schedule was with medication. The last thing she wanted was for Clarke to end up in distress.
"And, uh...I guess maybe Costia saw something like this coming, because I checked under the bed for Lexa's candles, and right beside them was my toy box that I lent her a month ago. Not sure how I feel about them anticipating this, but...maybe it might be interesting?" Clarke asked, teetering her weight from one leg to the next, and back, clearly a bit nervous.
Honestly, outside of some little tricks Indra taught her to make, Anya used toys pretty often. "Can we take a look?"
Clarke ducked her head slightly, blushing hard again. "I...yeah, for sure. Just don't judge me or anything, okay?"
Wanting to try and break whatever anxious haze Clarke was knee-deep in, she took hold of the underside of Clarke's chin and pressed a lingering, chaste kiss to her lips, waiting until she could feel the tension release before stepping away and moving to the large box beside the bed.
It was a decent size, and apparently for good reason as she opened it up and took in the sight of Clarke's collection. Wow...ankle spreader, flogger, restraints...someone's into bdsm...ooh, cute paddle with heart indentations... Anya mused to herself before something big and shiny caught her eye.
As soon as she realized what it was, she picked it up to get a better look at it. "Ohhhh my g...okay, so that...that, uh, it's..." Clarke sputtered out, clearly worried about what Anya might think, for whatever reason.
As if it was the first time she'd ever seen a butt plug. "It'll definitely do. The fact that it's capped by a heart-shaped gem is a little precious, but maybe it's a nice break from my more utilitarian set back home." She interjected, allowing herself another moment of studying the cute gem before meeting Clarke's eyes, smiling at the relief there. "Clarke, I'm single. I have been for some time. I told you I like anal. It's not very comfortable using my hands directly for everything, so..."
"Okay, I get it, I'm an idiot." Clarke laughed, lighting her hands in mock surrender.
"Perhaps, but a moderately enchanting one at least." Anya threw the offhanded compliment out as she went to her luggage by the door and hauled it into a free corner, pulling out her lubes. "These should do nicely. The rest can wait for later."
Oddly enough, she didn't startle when Clarke's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, the other woman having approached silently. "So...later on, if I want to use a strap-on..."
Anya let out a low laugh and leaned into Clarke's body a little. "Please, if that's what you want, I'm happy to oblige. And don't be concerned about size, obviously...regardless of your choice, I'll be fine." She answered, holding up the steel plug in hopes of making her point from the circumference of it alone.
"Of course you will. I told you I wouldn't hurt you. I'll take good care of you." Clarke murmured, head dipping forward to plant a pair of kisses to the crook of her neck, only further searing those words into her heart, Anya deeply wanting that to be true.
The way Clarke's hands splayed out across her abs, the gentle press of the other blonde's frame into hers, the sweet kisses on her neck, it all had Anya feeling she could trust this.
That just maybe, she could be entirely free with Clarke.
Clarke was riding a bit of a high as she pressed kiss after fluttering kiss to Anya's neck and shoulders, not just to show her affection for the other woman, but to buy time to calm down a bit. Anya had taken a good long look into her little treasure chest and hadn't blinked or flinched. No, Anya just pulled out the way oversized booty-bling butt plug she'd been given as a gag gift by Octavia. And when she'd stammered out nervously, Anya had reassured her.
And that helped, but damn if she wasn't still working on getting her nerves under control. She wasn't quite sure how to handle Anya. On one hand, she'd never seen Anya so shy and soft, but on the other hand, the woman was still very certain with her words, and her body language had Clarke under the impression that the aggressive, powerful Anya was resting right beneath the surface, ready to pop out at any time.
And while that could be exciting, maybe it wasn't what she wanted tonight to be. She'd initiated so much of the pain sent Anya's way. She wanted to be the one to initiate the healing and to earn Anya's trust in recovering their connection.
Still, she had to be careful, and as much as she wanted to go overboard like she so often liked to, Clarke held that part of herself back as she brought her hands to Anya's jeans and unbuttoned them. "You good to get this started?" She asked softly, pressing another kiss to Anya's neck.
"I believe so." Anya mused openly, turning in Clarke's arms while pulling her top off. Clarke watched the woman back away and sit down on the end of the bed, hardly needing a second to pull off her jeans. Two, three seconds later, with Anya stark naked on the bed, Clarke was unashamed about the gay sweats her body was kicking into high gear.
"Goddess help me..." Clarke muttered to herself as she peeled her leggings off and threw her dress over her head and off to the side. Anya's eyes were wider as she refocused on the woman, and took that as a good sign, and maybe a cue to slow it down a wee bit for her partner's benefit, taking her time in reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra.
Clarke rolled her neck and slowly, carefully pulled her bra free, and tossed it behind her as she stepped up to Anya, standing between the woman's legs. "Care to finish the job?"
Anya was peering up at her, breaths coming out a little heavy, cheeks dusted pink, pupils dilated slightly in arousal. Once upon a time, she dreamed of Anya staring up at her, remorseful and apologetic, but this was exponentially better. Anya wanted her, and she sure as hell wanted Anya; it was all she could do to contain her gasp when she felt the brown-eyed beauty hook her thumbs under her panties.
That gasp broke out into the bedroom air when soft lips kissed her belly, Anya using the momentary distraction to slide her underwear down enough for it to drop to the floor.
"Crafty..." Clarke mused, biting back a laugh at Anya's playfulness.
Anya just began crawling backward on the bed towards the headrest. "Couldn't resist. You've got a cute tummy, Clarke Griffin."
"Shut up, I work hard on it. Just because it's not chiseled like..." She started back, only for her words to still at the sight of Anya's hand and half-lidded eyes beckoning her closer.
"You shut up. You're very kissable, Clarke. All over, I promise you." Anya murmured, eyes growing wider, hands gesturing a little more impatiently, even as a smile bloomed across her face. "Coming?"
Clarke laughed and crawled onto the bed, slowly crossing the distance. "You promise? Because this is all pretty new. Did you have a thing for me even back then, in the dark months?"
The dark months. Well, better to refer to it with a name than to just ignore it. "Clarke, I hated a lot of things, but it could never change how beautiful you are. If being around you didn't hurt so much, if your eyes weren't so cold when looking my way, I could have...anyways, I want you, Clarke. All that you'll share with me."
"You'll get me soon enough, Anya. For now, I want to share this..." Clarke noted, taking hold of the butt plug Anya picked out earlier, along with the woman's coconut oil, figuring it'd be better suited for anal than the water-based one. "Shall we begin?"
Clarke's mouth turned into the Sahara as she watched Anya's hips lift up, the woman practically folding in half as her feet rested at the sides of her head. "Ready when you are."
She fumbled a bit with the lube as she fought to get some moisture into her mouth. If grabbing a water bottle wouldn't have made her look foolish, she would have guzzled half of one back already. Clarke had not been prepared for how limber her partner was, not in the goddamn least.
Clarke was just coating the plug with oil when Anya cleared her throat, instantly capturing her attention.
"Clarke, I know I'm no stranger to this, but...please...be gentle." Anya's voiced trailed off to a mumble, but her sheer focus on the woman had her hearing every word as clear as day, leaving her confused as heck.
"I will. It's not like this is your first time, babe. But if that's what you want..." Clarke started, any additional words dying in her throat as she watched Anya's face flicker with something that looked too much like either fear or sadness for her to bear. She barely had the mind enough to cut off the lube supply before it started flooding onto the duvet.
"You promised you'd take care of me, so...it may as well be." Anya clarified after taking an agonizing few seconds to school her features, voice coming out flat and emotionless. No, distanced.
The last thing Clarke wanted was for Anya to feel she had to do that with her.
"Oh, hey, no...no, I didn't mean it like that, I just...Anya, please." She stated, cutting herself short when she realized none of her scatterbrained pleas were even registering.
Clarke set the oil and plug on the nightstand and shifted to the side of her partner, prodding Anya's legs enough for them to flop back onto the bed. She nestled up beside the woman, angling Anya's head until they were face to face. "You always intimidated me. You're so strong, in so many ways, and I honestly came in here thinking we'd be pulling some cheesy fan-fictiony thing with our tongues battling for dominance, and then that'd escalate given our histories, but like...Anya, I made a shit assumption, and that makes me a bit of an ass, but I want this to work. I feel we have something. So please, talk to me."
Anya blinked slowly and let out a quiet huff. "People always expect me to be this powerful, manly 'top'. Sometimes I'm okay enough to do that for them to an extent, if I'm desperate enough for someone to want me I suppose, but I'm never given the option to be anything other than a bunch of fetishistic stereotypes and fantasies. Just barely woman enough to count as one, and more than male enough for them to live their fantasies and shit through me. I just...I want to be free to be me. I want to be seen. People always want the dominant top they fantasize about, for me to essentially be the man they're not comfortable actually being with, so I'm the closest thing they can have and still get off to. I don't want to be some stand in for a cis dude, or the freakish masculine non-woman creature people sometimes think of me as...and it's gotten better since I had surgery, because no one can see me as a walking talking penis anymore, but...they still don't see me any different. I'm not a whole woman to them, not when they treat me like I'm male." Anya explained in heart-wrenching detail, the slightest tremor in her jaw stilling after a clear moment of focus. "They only ever want that. No one ever wants me."
Clarke was astounded with her willpower that she was able to make it through the entirety of Anya's explanation before pulling the woman into a kiss that channelled every ounce of power, every ounce of passion, every last goddamn bit of reassurance she could muster into it. The moment she shifted in position to get better leverage, Anya's legs were sweeping up and locking around her hips, pulling her down as Clarke kissed Anya into the mattress.
It wasn't fair. Even when Anya was her nemesis, she held disdain for those who pigeonholed Anya outside of womanhood, and she loathed anyone who only saw coven members as their roles, as their abilities. Anya was more than a warrior, more than her powerful body, and certainly wasn't the gross fetishistic and transmisogynstic male power fantasy wearing a woman-suit she imagined Anya's past sex partners wanted her to be. She'd be happy to take anyone who could look at Anya and fantasize about her as if she was a cis man, and throw them off a goddamn bridge in the depths of winter.
That didn't mean Clarke knew all the nooks and crannies of what made Anya who she was, at least not completely. No, she'd have to learn the hard way, by putting in the effort, by making Anya comfortable enough to show her. And damn it, she wanted nothing more in that moment.
"Goddess, Anya, I will take care of you if you let me have that honor. All I want is to be close to you, to make you feel good, and to figure out what's between us. You're safe with me." Clarke promised as soon as she pulled away, foreheads touching and noses grazing each other.
At this distance, she could see renewed faith in Anya's eyes, and felt a rush of fulfillment when the woman confirmed them. "I believe you."
Clarke took the plug and oil back in hand and waited for Anya to get back into position. "There we go, beautiful. Gonna take this nice and easy for you." She murmured as she made sure there was a nice coating of lube on the plug, and for good measure slowly pushed a nice-sized glob of it into her. "Ready?"
Anya let out an affirmative hum, and so for only the second time in her life, Clarke Griffin was inserting a butt plug. From personal experience, she knew going in too quick would just hurt, especially with something so big, so she took her time, slowly stretching Anya out minute by minute. One hand eased the plug in and out, a little deeper with each endeavor, while her other hand gently caressed Anya's hips, not wanting to waste any time she could be tactile, intermittently leaning forward to kiss the woman to help keep that connected feeling going.
She watched as Anya stretched more and more, halfway fearing it'd be too much and there'd be damage, but then all of a sudden the rest of it went in, and all that was left was a pretty red heart-shaped gem resting between Anya's ass cheeks.
"Mmmh, that's such a nice weight, holy shit." Anya let out, legs dropping back to her bed so she could roll over onto her stomach. "Oh wow, yeah, I'm gonna like this one."
Clarke was thrilled Anya was enjoying herself so much already, but her eyes were stuck on the sight of Anya's butt and how goddamn ridiculously cute it was. "Baby?" She asked hazily, gaze still fixed on that gleaming red heart peeking out ever so slightly. It took a moment for her brain to catch up enough to freak out, knowing pet names weren't exactly common so early on. Her mind was racing too fast to catch the pleased questioning hum from her partner. "Oh goddess, I...I'm sorry if I offended you, or if it's too fast, or..."
"Clarke." Anya called out firmly, cutting off all other thoughts as she turned her gaze upward, meeting Anya's as the woman peered over her shoulder. "Clarke, I'm here with you. I want you, awkwardness and all. If 'baby' is the only pet name that comes out from you tonight, I'll be all smiles. I honestly prefer it to most others I've been given, considering the circumstances."
"But it's not ideal." Clarke chimed in, catching Anya's drift that the woman was good with it, but it wasn't her top choice.
Anya rolled her eyes and tossed her hair back. "All the more preferred ones wouldn't be appropriate, we're not in love. So 'baby' will be just fine, Clarke. I'll tell you if I'm not comfortable with something...trust me to tell you, and trust that I'm good if I don't. Please don't think too hard, I accept you, quirks and all."
Clarke couldn't help but beam at Anya, thrilled at the reassurance and that familiar soft expression. Most of her past partners had balked at showing any vulnerability given her magical affinity, most held trust at arm's reach, but Anya was there offering it freely, without hesitation. Her mind kept assaulting her with a single word: Closer, closer, closer. She let that word reach her hand over to cup Anya's butt as she crawled up over the woman's body, pressing kisses up her spine along the way, cherishing the content hums escaping her partner.
"Let's get you warmed up, baby..."
Thirty minutes.
Anya wasn't entirely sure just how much time had passed since Clarke kissed her way up her back, but it had been at least thirty minutes.
She'd always been a bit of a slow starter, perhaps the fault of her meds, but no one had ever really cared before. No one had ever really made sure she was fully primed and ready to go in the past, for a number of reasons Anya didn't really care to think about. Clarke, though, was more than content to take her time and work Anya up, and it was both novel and reassuring, on top of goddamn sexy, that the other blonde was so patient.
Honestly, Anya felt like she'd halfway ascended, with Clarke nestled up at her side. From the feeling of Clarke gently rocking against her hips, to the hand that worked her nipples to crests of pleasure only to ease off the throttle with some delectable focus on her stomach, to the arm wrapped behind her neck, angling her in for kissing, Anya cherished the slow build up Clarke was working her over with.
And Anya, well, she was all too happy to guide Clarke's hips against her, and let her other hand roam wherever Clarke needed it.
At least, until Clarke's hips bucked a little erratically for the third time in less than a minute. "Clarke..." She spoke as she took in a breath, capturing the other woman's attention quickly. "My thigh, hand, or mouth? Your choice."
Clarke just grinned and pulled herself and Anya up to a seated position. "This is just me getting my engine revving too, babe, so I'll take your thigh for now. Though I could use your mouth somewhere else..."
Anya rolled her eyes and shifted Clarke halfway onto her lap so her partner was straddling her thigh. She was all too happy to oblige, bringing Clarke's right breast into her mouth as she took hold of her lover's hips, caressing and guiding them, feeling dizzy with pleasure.
In the past, it'd all been easy enough, just doing as expected and going by rote memorization on what her partners wanted, but there in that cabin, she was supremely far out of her usual position, her body was thrumming like never before, and she was increasingly intoxicated by every sound that escaped Clarke's body, by every otherworldly movement of her lover. Clarke had always been a passionate woman, but it was as if that passion overtook every fiber of her being, and it left Anya breathless with desire and anticipation.
"Oh goddess, right...right there!" Clarke moaned, arching backward to give Anya a better angle to work with, not that she wouldn't gladly suffer a neck kink to hear those words again. "C-close..."
Anya swirled her tongue around the nipple, letting her teeth graze it before she pulled away. If Clarke was going to climax, she wanted to watch it happen, watch the beautiful blonde unravel. Maybe that was selfish, but she'd make it up to Clarke soon.
"You're so beautiful..." The words escaped without her permission, but she could hardly will herself to care when a blissful smile spread across her lover's lips. Spurred on by the growing molten pit of arousal in her core, Anya reached up a hand to pull Clarke forward, close enough to kiss her, using her other hand to hold her lover by the small of her back. "Let go, darling."
All at once, Clarke's hips jumped up her thigh, Clarke let out a sharp gasp, and those sapphire eyes went wide as she'd ever seen them. Clarke's lips were on her before she could react, the woman's hips furiously grinding away at her as Clarke poured herself into Anya. She was all too happy to swallow her moans, to hold Clarke almost close enough for them to fuse; there was a fullness growing inside of her, warming her and rendering her nerves more and more electric the closer she grew to Clarke.
She'd never felt so naked and vulnerable in her life being used as an instrument of desire, but every press of lips, every stroke of her cheek, every hand that ran through her hair and pulled her close, it all told her that Clarke was the reason for it, that Clarke saw her, knew her.
That she was safe, in that moment, as Clarke's head fell back, a sharp cry escaping her mouth as her hips jolted against Anya. The climax rolled through her lover head to toe, all seizing muscles and soft cries as Anya held her close and slowly worked her through it.
It was a nurturing feeling, if Anya were to be honest, holding Clarke and aiding her through the orgasm, murmuring sweet words into her lover's ear, combing a hand through her hair, fluttering kisses against her face.
Sex had never felt like that before. Leading a partner to orgasm had never felt like that before. Her heart had never felt as full as when she felt Clarke in her arms, falling into climax and trusting her to hold her together. Her soul had never felt so light at the feeling of Clarke clinging to her like a lifeline, Anya's name the only word leaving her lover's lips for that brief minute or two.
If this was just a precursor, as Clarke asserted earlier, then Anya was entirely unprepared, but willing to have her mind blown, because if it meant more of these feelings, more closeness with Clarke, more delightful sounds and sensual touches, then she wasn't sure she'd ever leave the bed again.
"I'd almost feel...embarrassed that a...single goddamn word from you...could make me come, but..." Clarke spoke as she worked to catch her breath, Anya more than a little confused over what the beautiful blonde was going on about, but more than happy to give her time to speak her mind. "...but I swear, baby...I just really want you to call me that again. I don't care what it takes."
Anya leaned back enough to meet Clarke's gaze, trying to decipher the meaning of the woman's words. "You don't have to beg for anything with me, Clarke, but what word are...wait...'darling'?"
She watched Clarke visibly melt as the word filled the air, and knew that she couldn't deny it to her lover if she tried. "Definitely that one."
"Then it's yours, Clarke. And..." Anya started, only to remember the other thing she'd brought in her luggage that she'd considered bringing out if all went well. And despite it all being mostly foreplay so far, Anya was certain that it was right to offer her lover another option. "...and I have something for you."
Anya went to get up, but Clarke promptly threw her body weight at Anya and held her flat down on the mattress. "Easy there. I don't want you leaving this bed 'til you're satisfied. You got my motor purring, I can get whatever you need me to get."
With an amused roll of her eyes, she pointed to her luggage. "Wooden box in my luggage. Can you bring it to me?"
Clarke leaned down, meeting her in a languid kiss that had her heart soaring before her lover was rolling off the bed and striding to her luggage. Clarke didn't need long to recover it, plopping down beside her a few seconds later. "What's in it?" Her lover asked, looking at the featureless box for some way to open it.
Anya took hold of it and pressed a hidden spot on the box, unlocking it and cracking open the lid. She pulled out both items inside, the clear glass flask full of a translucent liquid, and the larger leather bag. "I was taught how to make this some time ago. I don't use it very often, but it can be wonderful. I want to share it with you."
Clarke looked over the two objects as Anya set the box on the floor at the end of the bed. "What is it?" The woman asked, tugging on Anya's arm until she clambered up onto Clarke's lap.
"The liquid in the flask was made with transmutation magic." Anya started, Clarke's attention immediately shifting away from the flask and to her eyes; that form was rare, so it was understandable that Clarke was intrigued. "Essentially, it's a very minor spell, which is why I can manage it despite not having an affinity. I suppose my abilities are close enough in alignment for me to be capable. But anyways, it alters the nerves of whatever it touches."
"How so? Like does it..." Clarke started, before her eyes grew wide as saucers. "No way."
Anya just laughed, lightly bonking her forehead against Clarke's and leaving it there. "Maybe this is heavy, but I've never felt like this before, Clarke. I've never felt so cared for in this sort of thing, and...all I know is that every bit of pleasure I feel, I'd like you to feel it with me. This can help with that...but only if you want to use it. I won't ask you to, or demand you to, or anything...I'm just offering."
"Baby, at this point, I think I'd wait as long as I had to for you, so if you think this could make us feel closer, and that's what I want...and that's what you want...then of course I will. You're kinda the best, okay?" Clarke asked rhetorically, but Anya couldn't quite manage to contain her scoff.
Clarke immediately pulled her into a kiss that had her feeling weightless and had those resurfaced insecurities running for cover, loving the way Clarke's nose nuzzled against her own ever so slightly as she pulled away to approach at another angle, adoring how the pads of Clarke's fingertips would gently trail down the curve of her jaw like she was drinking her in.
"Nothing but sweet sounds and confidence, okay? You're not the only one in uncharted waters, Anya. I haven't felt comfortable being in a relationship for a long time...it's all just been one night flings, and I just...I don't get that feeling here with you." Clarke stated, eyebrows rising as if to challenge her to deny that claim.
"This doesn't feel like a one night stand. This feels...more." Anya admitted with a hard swallow, finding some confidence in the way Clarke's smile just beamed up at her.
"Then believe me when I say you're the best I've had already. I've never felt this close to someone, and goddess, at the same time I just feel like there's so much more ground to cover between us, and I want us to cross it together." Clarke said, voice shaking ever so slightly as she took Anya's hand and placed it over her heart. Anya could feel the organ thrumming wildly in Clarke's ribcage. "I'm so excited, and scared, and over the moon happy, and I'm so ready for this as long as you're here to hold my hand."
Anya leaned close and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lover's lips, lingering there as she stroked a hand down Clarke's blushing cheek, and took Clarke's right hand with her other. "I am. I will."
"Then why don't you show me how to work this?"
As much as Clarke loved Anya's laughter, she couldn't help but keep her focus on her hand, marveling at the sensation even as she blushed from the sound that left her lips a mere few seconds ago.
"The look on your face is priceless, Clarke!" Anya added between laughs, and she honestly imagined it was, because there truly was nothing like feeling a jolt of arousal from rubbing your thumb and fingertips together.
It was one thing to imagine what it might be like, but an entirely different magnitude to feel it for real. "This is so weird. So...what did you use this for, again?"
"Mostly to ramp up quicker than usual. It can take me over half an hour to get going, normally, but with this, that time's cut down by a decent chunk. I'll put some on a finger or two, dip them in melted chocolate or maybe icing, and get to licking. But it can be nice if I'm fingering myself, too." Anya explained as she laid herself back on the bed, tugging Clarke to straddle her. This substance of hers opened the door to so many possibilities, a mass of them flooding Clarke's mind over how to use something like that.
Maybe it was a little egregious as far as a sex aid, but it did seem handy. Pun absolutely intended.
"Mmmmmn, and if I'm giving you a hand job?" Clarke asked, bringing their knit hands to her lips as she held Anya's mirthful gaze.
"Never experienced it. But I promise, you'll know how it feels when I do." Anya answered with a broad grin, bringing her leg up and using her heel to pull Clarke atop her, skin on skin. "And honestly? I've got a good feeling about it."
Clarke laughed and dipped down for a quick kiss, loving the way that Anya wrapped around her however she could. For such a fearsome warrior, she was damn adorable. "Don't let go?" She murmured as she pulled away. The tremendous warmth in Anya's eyes had her knowing her lover wouldn't fail her.
She took a deep breath, excited to get this started and to keep growing this thing between them. Carefully, she shifted to Anya's side, pressing fleeting kisses to her partner's jaw as she reached down, gave a quick glance to check her instincts, and then let her forefinger and middle finger slowly glide up Anya's slick folds.
By the time she'd neared the clitoris and rendered it exposed, Clarke was breathless, body buzzing and stunned from the sensation. Certainly a bit more sensitive than rubbing her fingers together, she'd have to get used to it. "Oh my goddess, babe..."
"Is it too much?" Anya asked, sounding worried. As if there was anything to worry about.
"Nah, not at all, just unexpected. Between this thing, and getting to feel you for the first time, I...I'm really excited, and I just need a moment." Clarke answered swiftly and with as much assurance as she could channel into her voice.
That seemed to be enough, tension leaving Anya's body. "Take your time, darling, I'm not going anywhere."
The use of the d-word only compelled Clarke to rub her thumb just around the edge of Anya's clit, cheering internally at the sight and feel of Anya's hips arching into her touch. "Maybe you're not going anywhere, but I'd really like you to come with me."
Anya's head fell back with a dull thump against the mattress, another glorious laugh escaping her lover. "That's so fucking cheesy!"
"Don't lie, you like it." Clarke shot back with a grin, giving Anya's core one more quick swipe as she gathered as much oxygen as she could. Just the sensitivity of her fingers on Anya's vulva was doing a number on her, ratcheting her arousal up notch by notch with each touch. Something told her she wouldn't be too pleased with her stamina over the next little while.
Hopefully Anya wouldn't be too embarrassed for her.
Clarke reached for the lube, applying a bit to her fingers in prep of what she knew would be an entirely new experience for her. Let it never be said Clarke Griffin was a coward.
"Clarke..." Anya's voice brought her attention to her lover, the sheer reverence making her heart tremble in her chest from the pure heat the word had cascading through her body. "I trust you."
Teeth firmly pressing against her lower lip, Clarke gave Anya a small nod and decided to go for it, plunging two fingers into Anya.
Clarke gasped alongside her lover, arching a little from the feeling of Anya's walls around her digits. For a brief moment, being engulfed in Anya, feeling very intimately and intensely every single muscle spasm against her fingers, even the hardness of the nearby butt plug, took her focus.
But just for a moment.
Clarke caught her breath, adjusted to expectations, and pulled out slowly, recalling Anya preferred a more sensual approach up front, and she was all too happy to employ that. Just feeling Anya wrap around her had Clarke wanting to be closer, as close as she could get. It was only made more fortunate, knowing that if the sensations from her hand kept up then she wouldn't be able to be upright; resting against Anya while she pleasured her was best for the both of them, and would give Anya plenty of access to her.
Clarke set a languid, steady pace, working her fingers at Anya's upper wall as her thumb rolled at the edge of her lover's clit, getting close enough to build her up, but not so much to jolt Anya towards an unexpectedly quick orgasm. She wanted to take her time, pulling Anya into a quick kiss before trailing her mouth across her jaw and down her neck, kissing and nipping and licking her way to Anya's pulse point.
Maybe it was just instinct, maybe it was that rare territorial side of herself coming out to play, maybe it was how the overwhelming pleasure from each thrust of her hand was slowly sending her into a blissful haze. Whatever the reason, some signals in her brain must have crossed because after nipping a delightful spot on Anya's neck and hearing her let out a delighted mewl, Clarke found her lips latching onto her neck and sucking for all she was worth.
The last time she'd given someone a hickey was in high school, so she could feel blood rushing to her cheeks as she hastily pulled away, words already at the tip of her tongue as her brain worked at formulating some apology. But then a hand was pressing at the back of her skull, pushing her face back into Anya's neck, a throaty whine rumbling out of her lover.
"Please...darling..." Anya spoke in gasps, her lover's hand shakily and slowly combing through her hair, adding enough pressure to let Clarke know she was wanted there, not that the words alone didn't immediately have her heart racing and body buzzing.
Clarke dipped forward the half inch to press a kiss at the base of Anya's neck, letting her lips linger as she soaked in how Anya's legs gripped her tightly. She could feel a minor tremor of pleasure run through Anya's body from her neck all the way to her toes. "Tell me what you need, baby..." She murmured, slowing the pace of her thrusts enough so that she could be sure to recognize an answer past the heady pleasure buzz and the sensation of her arousal dripping onto the toweled bed.
"More of that...more...and faster, just...mmmnh...just a bit, please..." Anya laboured, stirring those long dormant and contained urges she'd always done well to hold in check.
Quickening the pace of her thrusts was easy enough, having mostly adjusted to the feeling of Anya's magic serum. She didn't have to keep herself from a premature climax anymore, at the very least, even if she was closing in on that ledge little by little. But indulging in something she'd warded herself off of had her feeling both enticed and cautious.
"Anya...pretty sure you can't magic away a hickey." Clarke noted hesitantly, applying just enough pressure to get Anya to release the hold on her head. She needed to look Anya in the eyes for this; even if it wasn't a big thing for most, she had a hard time stopping that particular sort of instinct once she'd gained enough headway. "Baby, I just don't want to do anything you'll regret later."
Her lover immediately reached down and stilled the hand between her thighs, and if Anya didn't already have her complete attention, she certainly had it now. "I'm not ashamed of this, Clarke."
Clarke let out a huff, anxiously trying to find the right words to describe her predicament, and mostly failing at her attempts. "It's...I mean...I know you're not, it's...well, a lot of people don't like them. And I mean....I'd be marking you. And I haven't done that in forever, because...well, once I start, I have a hard time stopping, and I don't want to freak you out with all the possessive junk that comes with it, and I'm just..."
Honestly, there were at least another hundred words left in her rambling, but feeling Anya take hold of the hand that Clarke had buried between her thighs, and slowly lift it out and up, up, all the way to her lips, a breath away from Anya's mouth? That killed all those leftover words, and she doubted she'd mourn their passing.
"Darling, hush. You're over-thinking this..." Anya started, eyebrow cocking at the tiny scoff that escaped her over the assertion. "I'm serious. What, do you think I'd balk at the notion of you getting possessive over me?"
Clarke shrugged, not quite having revived her vocabulary yet. "Most people get freaked out, given my affinity and all. Last one really didn't like it, and practically threw me out."
"And I'm not that person. You need to stop second-guessing yourself, stop presuming you know what I want better than I do. Just listen to me, Clarke...I'll always let you know what I like and what I don't. And if you're comfortable being...well, possessive...with me tonight, then let's see where that goes. It's not a hard or soft limit for me." Anya clarified, the amused crinkling of her eyes just barely warning Clarke in time as Anya's soft tongue blazed a trail up her hand, sending an intense ripple of pleasure down her spine.
She was already soaked, but she could feel a fresh rush of arousal, both from the lick and the notion of Anya accepting her, not to mention the vulnerability involved. Still, she waited until she caught her breath again to make one final argument, to make sure Anya knew where she was coming from.
"I just...I guess you've been treated like an object by other partners, and I wouldn't want to do the same to you. You deserve better. You're a person. You're not something I can, you know, have or claim for myself." Clarke said, eyes half-lidded and head feeling hazy as Anya took one of her digits into her mouth, tongue swirling around it. "Goddess, if you keep doing that, I won't last long, baby."
"I don't care how long you last. One, two, twenty orgasms...whatever we feel like. I just want to spend the night with you, I want us to enjoy ourselves. So...if it makes it easier for you...as far as I'm concerned, I'm yours tonight. And you're mine. Doesn't mean you own me...just means I'm sharing myself with you. I trust you to take good care of me, darling." Anya spoke, flicking her gaze between Clarke's hand and her eyes, before settling on the latter. "And if you want to suck at my neck, if you want to say I'm yours, or any of that...I'm good with it. I'm not scared, I trust you."
Clarke gulped, heart hammering in her chest, yearning to break out and find Anya's. Ever since her affinity had been made known, everyone she'd dated had been wary and generally unwilling to be vulnerable with her. Even if she'd insist that she could only control people after casting, most still suspected that she could influence and manipulate thoughts and emotions on a more subtle level, so it was rare for anyone to be really open with her. It was why she adored her friendships with Lexa and Costia, who did trust her.
So Anya willingly opening up to her and trusting her? Wanting to share herself, even after everything they'd been through, even after experiencing firsthand what Clarke was capable of? It had her breathless and yearning to just hold onto this magnificently strong woman. Everything in her soul was screaming at her to make love to Anya, to take her to such heights where Clarke's name would be the only intelligible sound spilling from her lips, to pepper kisses across her blushing face as she came down from her final climax, to wrap her up in the afterglow and maybe carry Anya to the shower if her lover needed or requested it.
And maybe that was getting ahead of herself, but it wasn't bad to have some goals at the ready for the rest of their night.
"Then let's get back to making this a night to remember, baby."
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They know us. Our song. #lookingforthemagic #dwighttwilleyband#pbr @jaaayyzzzzz (at La Cuevita)
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You're next. 🔪 #yourenext #lookingforthemagic #mindthegap #bose #videogram #instavideo
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