Work Text:
You watch her with an intense gaze; know she can feel your eyes against her from the blush that’s rising at the dips of her collar bones. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone as beautifully fierce as she. All soft skin and round cheeks with hard planes and ferocious loyalty seeping from her pores. She surprises you constantly.
You feel yourself sink in her. A delicious kind of weakness. You want to know the corners of her soul. The scars of her body. You want to know what she tastes like when she loses control.
You want to know what her desperation looks like; arousal dripping from her features rather than fear in her eyes.
You want her to want to know you too.
You want her to see parts of you that you’re too afraid to show yourself.
You clench your fists, fingers itching almost with the need to graze her skin. She is pale against your caramel and your mouth salivates to travel the length of her body. You know you’ve never felt this kind of longing before.
You’ve been bare to someone on a whole of two times. The first was Costia. She was dark against your sheets; chocolate skin that arched to your touch. You were barely more than a child, hips narrow, fingers exploring places that you had only dreamed about before. She breathed against the skin of your throat, calling you ‘Heda’. At the time you revelled in it. Pulled at her hips until she was flush against you.
At the time she was all you ever wanted; Her eyes dark as they roved your body. You were softer then. Brand new. Training had made you strong.
But the killing. The killing has made you hard; indelicate.
The second was Brava. Soldier. Trusted. A boy with a man’s body. He was beneath you without questions asked. He moved to your every command as you broke; spilled grief of losing Costia into the pleasure that he could give. The distraction that he presented. Unlike Costia, he didn’t revel in your beauty. He watched you with understanding as your nakedness slid against his; his hands clutched tightly to the cloth beneath him as you took what you needed. Tears pooled in your eyes as you watched him watch you. A drop was never spilled. You encased it; moving your hips to distraction with the her name still on your lips.
You were still in command. You were still ‘Heda’.
But Clarke. Clarke has you stumbling. She catches you off guard with her smile and her eyes that bore into your soul.
You want to devour her.
You are in the middle of a war but she has you unravelled beyond comprehension. You growl slightly at the back of your throat; annoyance laced with greed as your eyes continue to follow her. She must have sensed a change in intensity because she looks at you this time, head tilted sideways in a way that may be questioning. Instead you see the way the sunlight catches at her cheek bones; the way the corner of her mouth lifts involuntarily. You try to swallow back against the thumping of your heart.
She is a distraction. Distractions in the middle of war can be disastrous. Therefore one must relieve said distractions.
Conquer said distractions. You decide to be greedy just this once. Just this once.
“I need to speak to you privately”, you say when you reach her side; your entire body hums with an energy that you cannot explain. She looks confused and nods, turning her body to speak to Octavia for a moment. You do not hear what she says. You are too busy calming the clench of your thighs. She turns to you, wordlessly motioning that she will follow.
She will follow where you lead her. You almost whimper out loud.
Your palms are damp now as you rest them on the hilt of your dagger, running your tongue along the ridges of your lips as you feel the heat of her next to you. She eyes you questioningly but you give her nothing else; your face stoic, your eyes dark with want. You find your place at your tent, your soldiers readying around you with bowed heads. You hiss between your teeth.
What you need is privacy. What you need is a dearth of listening ears so you can encourage the noise from Clarke’s parted lips.
What you want is Clarke open and gasping and her voice to engrain itself to the inside of your temples.
“Go kom hir”(Clear this place), you speak, words clear and they move without question. Good. You wait for a moment. Wait until they turn to look at you before you tilt your head upward in a gesture for them to move further. To move away. To leave you.
Clarke watches as they retreat. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Her scent escapes into your senses and this may have destroyed any hope of you regaining control on your swerving emotions. You lift the heavy leather quilt, and she follows through inside. She is already so familiar with your tent. Already knows the placement of belongings.
Already knows where your body rests at night. The sting of intimacy makes you suck another breath in.
You’re loosening your belt by the time she turns, daggers unclipped from your waist as though you cannot wait for another moment to be rid of them. You wonder if that is actually the case.
“What is it?”, she asks, watching you as you unsheathe from your weapons. She still has a gun tucked into the back of her pants, held to her skin where you have seen the indents left later. Red and angry against the fairness of its expanse.
You groan at the imagery. Groan at the way her clothes seem to inspire arousal in a way you have never experienced before.
You say nothing. You drop your weapons on the table. You are not worried. You know your people will never leave if they sense a danger. Instead you look at her. You loosen your stance and allow her to see the emotion swirling beneath your eyes, your chest rising and falling with its intensity.
She raises her eyebrows at you, her lips doing that accidental pout that drives you insane. God.
You’re being greedy. Greedy just this once.
You close the distance between you quickly. She doesn’t flinch. Just watches. Just waits. You wonder if she was expecting this all along.
--Maybe not, because she inhales sharply as your gloved hands settle on her jaw, your fingers free to curve its path from her ears downward. You are not looking in her eyes; too focussed on the slight part of her lips. You cannot wait any longer.
You have been waiting far too long.
Your lips are on hers before she has a chance to speak and you groan. God. She is foreign and soft and addictive. And you are moving into her until you feel her back collide with the wooden post in the middle of your tent, your hands resting against it and your body moulds itself, pliant to her curves.
You open your mouth against hers and she is kissing you back, caught off guard at the way you are teasing against her lips. Breathy noises escape from your joining and you can no longer hold back without your hands on her. Your fingers travel to her gold tresses. So unlike anything you have seen. You want to get lost in them. You want to plait braids in them until her curls match yours.
That thought shocks you out of your reverie and you pull back, catching your breath as your eyes fall onto her. Her lips are glistening, mouth parted as she pants. Hair tangled in your fingers and chest matching yours as she gasps; eyes are still closed as though she is still lost in the feel of your kiss.
You push back, teeth scraping against her lower lip and she groans with it, suddenly latching on to your waist as though to hold you to her body. You feel your knees weaken with her hands on you, arousal soaking at the juncture between your thighs. Your fingers trace down her cheeks, coasting at her throat and she stutters for a moment, breaking her connection with your lips. But you can’t be away from her for even a moment; your teeth skirting the edge of her jaw as you taste the supple skin there.
“Lexa...wh..what”, she gasps, as though her muddled brain is finally catching to her body and you growl, something feral erupting in the pit of your chest as your fingers catch at her belt loops and pull her against you. The noise she makes at the collision makes you want to rip at the clothes that are keeping you away from her skin.
You look into her eyes, edges darkened into a cerulean; your war paint smudged along her cheekbones. Her lips are blushed red, swollen from your teeth. She looks utterly wrecked. She looks like she is yours with your tangles in her hair. And your teeth ridges against her jaw.
God. Your paint on her skin. She is beauty beyond anything you could ever comprehend.
“You are so infuriating Clarke,” you whisper, pulling her hips back against yours. This time, her knee slips between yours, colliding deliciously against you and you tilt your head back slightly. She watches you with an awed expression, licking the roof of her mouth as her glance roves your body until they settle back on your eyes.
She takes in your state. Takes in the way you practically shiver at every breath she takes. Takes in the way your gaze flicks back and forth from her eyes to her lips. “You’ve been watching me.” She says it like a statement, no question in her tone. A smirk graced to her mouth. “I could feel your eyes on me the entire time you were out trying to gather your people.”
She grabs the back of your neck, swivelling her hips and switching your positions so that your back collides against the pillar and you suck in a breath at her boldness. She is inherently everything you have ever imagined.
“I could feel your gaze from all that distance between us. And this?”, she lines her body against yours as her eyes never leave yours. “This is what you’ve been thinking about?” You breath into her as she continues to watch you. You feel restless against her but you don’t dare move. She looks at you like she’s made up her mind and for the first time in a long time, you’re afraid.
Afraid that you have scared her off. Afraid that she knew you were too harsh for her softness.
She tilts her head, hands still on your neck. “How am I infuriating Lexa?” She’s leaning her face toward you and your body feels alight again, fire burning against your veins as you soak in her features. She has a smirk kissed to her lips. Like she knows that you are weak for her.
Like she has only just figured out what she does to you... and it’s delighted her.
Her nose is grazing against yours, lips almost settled onto yours. “Tell me”, she breathes and you surge forward, moulding her mouth to yours and linking at the hand still caressing your throat. She pushing back into you, taking what you give as your linked hands go above you head as she holds you in place.
You kiss her like it’s the most important thing in the word. Like you never want to let her go. She kisses you back with a passion you didn’t even know existed.
You want her unclothed and writhing against you. God.
She whimpers when you push against her, hands moving to her jacket which you immediately pull off her shoulders. She gets the idea and separates her mouth from yours, moving backward till her knees are against your bed. You stalk her body, pulling of her blue top and she is falling backward, hair cascading around her head like a halo as you take in her new found skin.
She is pale, skin smooth and firm. Her breasts are covered to you and wish you hadn’t removed your daggers so you could destroy the offending garment. But she watches you, lust filled eyes and parted mouth that begs to be kissed. “You are so infuriating Clarke.” You say, the timbre of your voice low with arousal so it comes out as more of a husk.
You’re pulling your gloves off slowly as you continue speaking. “The way you move your lips when you speak. The way you clench your fists when you’re annoyed. The way you smile with your entire face like you know how to be truly happy.”
She is softening against your words. You see it and you wonder if you have ever been this enamoured before.
“The way you taste. The way I dream of your body.” You’re peeling off your own leather coat, revealing the thin strapped cloth that you wear underneath. “The way my teeth itch to be dragged along your skin.”
She’s had enough of your tease. She sits and pulls at your hips toward her, so her face is in line with the sensitive skin of your abdomen. Her hands move underneath, scraping against the tan skin and dragging downwards to remove your pants. You let them drop willingly, until you are bare in nothing but your underclothes. Her eyes are darker than you have ever seen them.
She lifts your shirt slightly and before you can comprehend, her mouth is against the skin beneath your belly button, suckling so your whole body arches at the touch and you curse in your language.
“You are.....”, she pulls you on top of her, words spoken against your lips. “So hot.”
You learnt long ago that this is an expression of attractiveness rather than actual temperature.
You crawl your way on top of her, straddling her hip as you nuzzle at the satin of her neck, hands working at her pants so you can finally have her skin against you. All of it. Bare and ready.
She’s wearing white cloth underwear, held together precariously by strings at her hips. You can see her arousal soaked through, damp at the crotch of her sex and it is like a volcano has erupted inside your tent because the heat has suddenly become stifling. So much so that you actually groan out loud and you can feel her chuckle against you.
“I’m so infuriating. I know.”
You growl and sink your teeth at her hip, causing them to jump toward you and a noise to spill from her lips. “You have no clue Clarke.”
You taste your way up her body and she makes your mouth water, all sweet and salty. You need her naked.
“Naked,” you command and she arches her eyebrows, going behind her back to unhook her breast binding contraption. It makes her look certifiably delicious, but right now it seriously annoying you. You rip it off her chest, letting her deal with getting it off her arms as your hands go immediately to the exposed flesh. “Fuck Klark”.
She hisses as your hands graze at her stiff peaks, jutting proudly for your gaze. Your lips are at her ribs, hands caressing until her legs fall open and she is absolutely pliant to your touch, impatient even. She runs her hand down your back, pulling at the material as you feel it gladly slide up your skin and over your head. She whimpers when you raise yourself to dispose of it, eyes glazed over as she looks at you with appreciation. You know you are scarred. You know what your body looks like.
But she seems to enjoy it all the same. You sink further into her with that thought.
“Now. I want you now.” She states bluntly, grabbing blindly at your hips and you groan, running your hands up and down her thighs.
“Have you ever been worshipped Clarke?”, you whisper against her abdomen and she writhes. “Has anybody ever taken the time to memorise you?” you sit up and hook her legs around your hips, fingers ghosting from the proud swell of her breasts to her indents of her ribs. “You deserve to be worshipped”.
With that you're lowering your face again, kissing the skin that was just traced by your hands as your fingers skirt the ties of her cloth. She is soaked through it, white sheet attached slickly to the outline of her sex. The heady scent of her making your eyes glaze over as you move closer. She becomes frantic almost, restless and wanting. Doing anything but moving your head to where she most wants it.
You decide to relent. Your fingers shift to the apex of her thighs, slipping underneath the saturated material and running along the essence of her and she is gasping at the suddenness, bucking her hips to reattach your fingers.
God, she is wet and warm and inviting you in with such seductiveness. You wonder if all sky people feel like this. Respond like this. Smell as divine as this.
your teeth are pulling apart the remaining tangle at the side of her hips as she focuses on your fingers, the barely there touch. And then it falls apart and she is completely bare to you. All gold hair and smooth skin and your mouth literally waters at the sight.
Her skin is pink and fair and swollen. Fuck.
You kiss your way closer, until you cannot stand it anymore and allow your tongue to slide into her slit, nudging at her pearl and causing a whine to break from her lips. “Fuck Lexa.”
Lexa. Lexa
Not Heda.
You grip her hips tighter. Pull her closer. Lose yourself in her taste.
You are more than just a title to her. More than just a Commander. She makes you feel like more.
Weakness weakness weakness.
“God Lexa....ffu...more”, she’s groaning and now you are groaning with her, lifting her hips completely of the deerskin to meet the thrust of your mouth. You suckle at her flesh, her most sensitive nub nestled within your mouth as you toy with it. Spell your name in your mother-tongue against it as you use both my thumbs to spread her wider for you. Open and unashamed for you to take her.
In this moment she is yours.
Your eyes rolls back in your head as you feel her hips jutting to meet you, thighs clenching as your nails dig into the flesh on her buttocks. She is getting progressively louder. Her arousal is dripping down your lips and onto your chin. You can feel her getting closer to the proverbial fall. You want it to be beautiful.
You want your name. Your name to fall from her lips in that moment.
You manoeuvre her until she is lowered onto the back of your kneeling thighs, your mouth following your hands as they continue to bring her pleasure. Her eyes are closed, too lost in the feel to notice a change in position. “Lex....so close...ah”, she whimpers and you take the opportunity to slip two fingers into her. She squeals at the stretch, dripping around your fingers and clenching her hands into whatever she can find purchase. Her hips are stuttering now as you move your fingers in and out. Finding that place. That place that will make her eyes roll.
“Ah Fuck!”
Right there.
You can almost taste her release, she is so close. Her eyes squeezed shut, sweat dripping from her forehead as her sex squeezes you so tight, your fingers sliding in and out as your tongue still lays patterns against her.
There it is, she’s ready. Almost about to fall.
And you lift your mouth of her. Completely. Your fingers stop moving.
She growls, eyes fly open and frustration warped around her body. “Lexa! What?”
“I want to watch you as you fall apart. Want your eyes on me,” you husk at her and you know how you must look. Your lips covered in her, your eyes dark.
You start thrusting in again, this time with purpose and she watches you. Small whimpers escaping her mouth and driving you insane. She needs the last push. You know exactly where is body is. You see it in the clenching of her stomach, the rippling of her muscles. The tautness of her neck.
The hand that isn’t inside of her goes to cover her sex, your thumb flicking across her pearl with purpose. “Now. Klark lecrome rof me” (release for me)
And it’s like she understands because her head is thrown back, the loudest groan you have ever heard escaping her body and she is shivering with it.
“Ah...fuck..”, whimpers escaping her, her body riding out her release as she wets at your fingers and you are growling at the sight.
She is absolutely beautiful
“Shit. Lexa...ohmygod.” Her abdomen is tightening and releasing, her hips slowing but still seeking pressure and the noises from her mouth changing pitch. Now lower. Now greedy and satisfied. She hisses as you slide your fingers out of her wet heat before she becomes too sensitive, stickiness coated along your skin that you slide the digits into your mouth immediately. Her eyes follow your movements and is groaning at the sight, breathing still rapid as your thumb still skates along her clenching sex.
Her hands go to cover her eyes, finger tapping her forehead as she finally calms, thighs quivering against your sides as the odd contraction still catching her off guard. You wait patiently, taste of her still on your palate.
And then she drops her hands, eyes dark, body weak as she pushes herself up, using your hips as leverage so she is planted across your thighs and her arms sink over your shoulders. She is looks down into your eyes, lips wet and you feel your body heat at her glance. Her fingers go to your neck, scratching at the back of your skull.
“Do you understand how beautiful you are”, she says, tonguing your jaw as she tastes you, eyes lidded as you groan. “You all clothed in leather, dark paint on your skin. God the command of your voice”. She sinks her teeth into your neck and your hips jerk, head tilting and you're surrendering to her.
You say nothing. The vibration of her voice at your neck causing your breasts to stiffen.
“You, naked and craving me. Your eyes on me. That snarl that you do when you’re pissed that shows of your teeth.” She returns upwards, attaching her fair mouth to yours swiftly as you swallow your gasp while her tongue runs itself along the inside of your upper lip.
She is intoxicating with all her Sky people ways. You don’t think you have ever been kissed as thoroughly. As though she is memorising every crease of your lips and edge of your teeth. She takes pleasure in this. This kind of exploration. You find yourself weakening from the ministrations of her mouth and you make a high pitched sound as she suckles at your bottom lip, teeth scraping just perfectly so you are a mess.
She stops abruptly. “Did you just whimper Lexa? Fuck”. She’s pushing, now insistent in her movements. “I want you on your back. Now.”
“You get bossy when you are aroused.”
You say it whilst you unravel your legs from under your body, holding onto her hips while you settle yourself flat like she has demanded.
“You think this is bossy? Wait until I’m demanding for you to come.”
She is raised above you, her hips swiveling at the juncture of your thighs, endless blue eyes staring at you while your bodies glide together. There is a smirk attached to her mouth and your head falls back at the amount of want that surges through your body. “Foroo Klark, hyat tu do lexa”(Clarke, you are irresistible to me).
That smirk. Those eyes. Her breasts against yours. Her teeth biting at her lip.
She is a distraction you don’t think you will ever be able to conquer.
“You are so infuriating.”