Clexa One Shots

Come Hither (AU)

Click. Click.

Lexa snaps two photos, just to capture this look. This is what she's after. This easy realism that invites intimacy with its viewers. She wants women (and men, if they were so inclined) to see her lingerie, to see the varied women wearing that lingerie as if they were going about their everyday life, and want to feel the way the models are feeling. To capture the fantasy for themselves.

"But, to answer your question, I wanted to create things that brought forth the strength and confidence from the people that wore them." She moves around, testing the images within the viewfinder. "Why are you a lingerie model, Clarke?"

Clarke shrugs, sending a few curls down over her shoulder. There's a catlike quality to her eyes thanks to the faint eyeliner and eyeshadow the makeup artist had applied. Her lips glisten, pale and lustrous. The black lace bra-and-panty set she wears is inspired by the kinds of cuts Lexa had seen in the bikinis of the 1960s. Clarke contemplates the question for a minute before she answers.

"Short answer, it pays the bills."

"And the long answer?"

"Honestly?" Here, Clarke hesitates before revealing something that is probably more intimate and perhaps scandalous. She chews on her bottom lip when contemplating something of this magnitude, Lexa notices. "I like it. I like the way I feel when I'm wearing lingerie and someone's snapping pictures of me. It's like...music." Her eyebrows wrinkle adorably and Lexa is sure to snap a picture of the little laugh that bubbles forth from Clarke's lips.

"Like a dance?"

"Yeah, that's it. Like a dance."

Lexa knows Maya had taken quite a few pictures of Clarke in this particular set already. 

"I think it's time for the next outfit, don't you?"

"You're probably right; I haven't worn the corset set yet." Lexa swallows hard then. She knows exactly what looks she wants to achieve with that particular lingerie set. Clarke is already heading for the long table that housed the various pieces Lexa had chosen personally for this shoot. She does her level best to focus on the previous photos on the camera and not gawk at Clarke like a schoolgirl as she sheds the black lace and stands there naked and unconscious.

She shouldn't be expressing such a personal interest in one of her models; the least she can do is not ogle her. When she registers, out the corner of her eye, that Clarke has pulled up the frilly cream panties and is in the process of lacing the country-style corset up her front, Lexa speaks up. "Don't lace it up all the way. Leave the top loose and undone."

"Like this?"

Like this, means that Clarke's breasts are spilling out of the cups, nipples just about visible.

"Yes, exactly."

There's an antique dresser-mirror in one corner of the room and Clarke steps in front of it, studying her reflection as she combs her fingers through her hair to undo the tangles from lying down on the bed. Lexa watches her with her breath constricting in her throat.  She's already aroused- there is a warm, heavy weight between her thighs and her nipples feel tight behind the material of her bra. She knows they must be visible through her blouse so she tries not to draw attention to her chest. Instead, she continues to try not to stare at Clarke's. From behind her, Lexa holds up the camera and snaps a few pictures of Clarke fixing her lip gloss, bending over the wood on her tiptoes and giving the camera a perfect shot of her buttocks and thighs.

Click. ClickClickClick. Lexa is sure to get a lot of shots here. "Will your family and friends...your romantic partner...be okay with you being visible in the media like this?"