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She was wildly popular—a bit of a slut, a total party girl. The kind who ruled the very top of the school social ladder.
Her name was Alexandria Woods. She was the last kind of person Clarke Griffin—nerdy, invisible, stuck at the very bottom of the school’s hierarchy—could ever see herself getting along with. Clarke wanted nothing to do with her.
Whenever Alexandria came close, Clarke’s eyes would narrow behind her glasses, a sharp glare slipping out before she could stop it.
But Alexandria never spared Clarke a thought. To her, Clarke was no threat—friendless, always alone, dismissed and scorned not just by the top tier but by practically the entire school. So when their paths crossed, Alexandria only gave her a mocking little scoff, the kind that cut sharper than words.
So when it happened, the very first thing Clark blurted out was, “WHY?!” And Alexandria, without missing a beat, declared, “This is the absolute worst.”
It sounds almost trivial when you put it into words. There had been a power outage. By sheer coincidence, only two people were inside the second library at the time—even the librarian had stepped out briefly on an errand. But the place was guarded by the latest security system, which, ironically, made it incredibly vulnerable once the power failed. That was all it took.
And just like that, the two of them were trapped inside.
The two of them waited anxiously for rescue. In the pitch-black room, the cold glow of Alexandria’s smartphone lit up her face, carving sharp, uneasy shadows across her features.
“Damn it,” she muttered, her voice rough. “The lightning strike must’ve killed the signal.”
At her words, Clarke stiffened. From outside, faint but insistent, came the roar of the wind and the relentless hammering of rain.
"No one’s coming anytime soon, I guess," Clarke muttered under her breath.
After that, they lapsed into silence. Even Clarke—who hardly ever touched her phone—pulled it out and began scrolling through old texts and chat apps, eyes skimming the screen without really absorbing a word.
Time slipped by, moment after moment, each second stretching into what felt like eternity for Clarke. Bathed in the glow of her phone’s screen, she gnawed at her thumbnail, irritation bubbling up inside her. With a sharp motion, she tossed the device onto the library desk, tore off her trademark black-rimmed glasses, and pressed her fingers hard against the bridge of her nose.
From a short distance away, Alexandria studied her intently, eyes fixed now that the barrier of those glasses was gone. Clarke remained oblivious. Alexandria’s gaze was predatory, patient, as if she were watching panic bloom in slow motion.
With effortless grace, Alexandria rose, muscles shifting silently beneath her skin. She moved forward without a sound, each step swallowed by the quiet of the library.
“Hey.”
She planted both hands on the desk in front of Clarke, her voice low but sudden.The sound jolted Clarke so badly that she nearly leapt out of her chair.
A flicker of unease slipped through before Clarke caught herself. She forced it down, lifting her chin as if nothing had happened, though her eyes narrowed in a glare that tried to look braver than it felt.
“What do you want?” The words snapped out, sharper than she intended, a shield more than a threat.
The bite in her voice only seemed to amuse Alexandria. A slow, knowing smile curved her lips as she leaned in.
“You’re prettier without the glasses. Didn’t see that coming.”
Her fingers brushed Clarke’s temple as she tucked a strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear—light, deliberate, lingering just long enough to feel intentional.
“Don’t you ever get restless, sitting here all the time? I’m chasing a little fun… and maybe you are too.”
Her eyes gleamed, hungry, sweeping over Clarke’s chest and lingering there with shameless precision.
“There’s more to you than I thought. With just a little effort, Clarke, you could be… irresistible.”
Clarke wanted to flinch, to knock that hand away. But in the suffocating dark, with only that fragile halo of light between them, her body refused to obey. Every nerve stood on edge; every breath rasped louder than it should have, as if the air itself was listening.
Saying no here felt pointless—like the shadows had closed in, corralling her toward the very thing she should have been retreating from. Her pulse thrummed hot against her throat, betraying every scrap of composure she tried to hold on to.
And yet, even as her mind screamed for distance, something sharper rose to the surface—stubbornness, pride, the refusal to let Alexandria see her falter.
“Alright,” she said lightly, though her heartbeat thudded in her ears. “Let’s see what your ‘little bit of fun’ looks like.”
Alexandria’s smile widened, slow and dangerous, like a predator realizing its prey might actually be worth the chase. She leaned closer, until the faint glow of Clarke’s phone painted the sharp angles of her face in stark light and shadow.
“That’s more like it,” she purred. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Her fingers slid from Clarke’s neck to her collarbone, dragging lightly over her skin as if testing boundaries she already knew she’d cross. Her gaze locked onto Clarke’s, steady and unrelenting—a challenge, a promise, and a trap all at once.
“Let’s see how long that brave little mouth of yours can keep up.”
For a heartbeat, Clarke forgot how to breathe. Every instinct screamed to push back, to build a wall before Alexandria could take another inch. But her pulse refused to slow, thrumming in wild sync with the storm outside.
Something sharp and stubborn kept her chin lifted, a shield against the satisfaction Alexandria might take in seeing her crack. Yet beneath that thin veneer of defiance, something else stirred—an ache she didn’t quite understand, hot and insistent, coiling tighter with every inch of Alexandria’s closeness.
Beneath it all, her pulse thundered, her breath uneven in the thick dark pressing in around them. She told herself to stay still, to keep her face blank, but the tremor beneath her skin betrayed her far too easily.
Alexandria’s eyes caught it, sharp and quick. Her expression shifted, dangerous and knowing, like a cat watching a mouse twitch in its trap. She leaned closer, letting her breath brush against Clarke’s ear.
“There it is,” she whispered, savoring the words. “Hiding all that under the quiet, huh?”
The low murmur slid down Clarke’s spine like a touch. She wanted to look away, to deny it, but Alexandria’s gaze held her fast—unyielding, amused, and far too knowing.
Clarke forced a laugh, sharp and brittle, trying to make it sound lighter than it felt. “Maybe I am,” she said, letting her chin lift just enough to meet Alexandria’s gaze. Every thrum of her pulse, every shallow breath, betrayed the wild storm she tried to hide. She wanted to look away, to retreat, but a stubborn thread of pride kept her rooted, refusing to give Alexandria the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
"You already know what's going to happen, don't you?"
Alexandria’s voice had taken on the sweetness of a clinging poison. With deliberate intent, she pressed the pad of her thumb against Clarke’s lips—pale, almost bloodless, yet achingly beautiful beneath the thin wash of artificial light.
Her lips parted just enough as she eased her thumb forward, sliding the tip inside until it grazed Clarke’s front teeth. Clarke’s warm breath dampened her skin.
"Woods, what—"
"Lexa." The correction came sharp and swift, slicing the air between them.
And then Alexandria―Lexa―closed the distance, pressing her mouth firmly against Clarke’s.
While deepening the kiss, she took Clarke’s hand and guided it to her crotch. Hard and swollen, it pulsed and twitched beneath her touch, quivering with a shivery delight as Clarke’s cold hand closed around it, making her gasp with a thrill.
Startled by the sudden hardness, Clarke tried to pull back, jaw tight, lips pressed together to stifle the sound she couldn’t let out. Her free hand bumped lightly against Lexa’s chest, a muffled protest escaping in a tiny, frustrated sound.
Lexa’s grip held firm, fingers curling possessively around Clarke’s wrist. Her eyes darkened, a slow, teasing smile brushing her lips. Clarke’s chest tightened, pulse racing, acutely aware of the heat between them. The air hummed with tension, every breath shared in short, shallow gasps.
When Lexa finally released her, Clarke’s cheeks flamed crimson, and her breath hitched, more from the closeness than embarrassment alone. Lexa tilted her head, gaze lingering, letting a soft murmur slip past her lips. "You're so innocent… and cute," she whispered, mischief and something darker threading through every word.
Clarke’s breath hitched, and her fingers twitched, the small spark of resistance inside her quickly melting. Lexa’s provoking words crushed her will to resist. "Don't… ever… call me innocent and cute again," Clarke murmured, voice trembling and muffled, half-angry, half-breathless, caught between frustration and something she couldn’t name.
Unknowingly, Clarke had become ensnared in the web of Lexa’s trap. A triumphant smile spread across Lexa’s lips, lighting up her eyes—and her entire face.
Clarke’s breath hitched, her body leaning in before she even realized it, utterly surrendered to the pull of Lexa’s teasing. Her fingers twitched, not in protest, but reaching subtly, drawn forward by the heat and challenge pressing between them.
Lexa’s hand slid from her wrist to the small of Clarke’s back, drawing her impossibly closer. The warmth of Lexa’s body pressed against hers, every subtle movement sending shivers through her. Clarke tried, for the briefest moment, to steady herself, but the proximity, the teasing brush of Lexa’s lips against hers, erased the thought entirely.
Lexa’s lips hovered just above Clarke’s, a whisper of breath grazing her mouth. "See?" Lexa murmured, voice low, almost a purr. "You can’t resist me."
Clarke’s hands went to Lexa’s shoulders, tense at first, then slowly relaxing as desire tangled with frustration, her movements guided more by instinct than thought. The kiss finally came, tentative at first, testing boundaries—but as Lexa deepened it, Clarke’s muffled gasp blended with the press of their bodies, a collision of defiance and surrender.
Every movement, every press, was a silent war of wills, yet with each second, Clarke’s resistance melted entirely. Lexa’s hands traced her sides, lips brushing against the shell of Clarke’s ear, whispering words that made her shiver. And even as Clarke tried to think, she realized she didn’t want to fight—it wasn’t just surrender anymore, it was a pull she was actively leaning into, caught fully in Lexa’s web.
Lexa pulled back just slightly, letting Clarke’s wide, flushed eyes meet hers. "You can’t hide from me," she murmured, smile dark and triumphant, fingers tracing lightly down Clarke’s arm. "Not now. Not ever."
The library books and Clarke’s textbook that had been on the desk were now scattered across the floor, as if knowledge itself had exploded. Lexa made no effort to be gentle. "I don’t feed fish that’ve already been caught," she said, her voice teasing, deliberate, and completely unyielding.
Clarke’s front was pressed hard into the desk, wrists trapped behind her by Lexa’s firm grip. Lexa draped herself over Clarke’s back, pressing her lower body between Clarke’s legs, every movement measured and impossible to ignore.
"Fuck off… get off me, Lexa," Clarke muttered, cheek pressed against the desk, voice muffled but sharp with frustration. Her hands flexed instinctively, wanting to shove Lexa away, but her body refused to cooperate.
"Don’t worry, Clarke, I’ll be gentle, okay?" Lexa murmured, soft, coaxing—but her hands were rough and insistent, moving over Clarke like she owned every inch.
Contrary to her gentle words, Lexa wasn’t planning on holding back at all. Every rough, insistent movement of her hands reminded Clarke that the coaxing tone was just a lure—Lexa was in complete control, and Clarke was utterly at her mercy.
Lexa, deft with one hand, slid Clark’s plain white panties down and left them hanging at her ankle, a crumpled knot snagged on her sock—as if to mark how completely she held her.
The chill clung to her bare skin, creeping up Clarke’s back in an unrelenting shiver.
Lexa slipped a finger firmly into Clarke's cunt. Clarke's pussy grew wet, and as Lexa began to finger her, her juices flowed freely.
"Don't you dare touch me." She gritted her teeth, a brittle shield against the tremor that shivered through every untested inch of her, her body betraying the defiance she forced into her voice, alive with the forbidden pulse of sensations she had never known, drawn irresistibly toward Lexa even as terror clawed at her from the inside.
"Wow, Clarke… you’re really a virgin?" A dangerous shadow, sharp and hungry, flickered across Lexa’s eyes. "No wonder you look so innocent… so cute." She leaned in, pressing her lips to the back of Clarke’s neck, nipping with a slow, deliberate bite that promised both pain and pleasure.
A shiver ran through Clarke—not fear, but something entirely new and raw. She clenched her teeth, forcing herself to stay silent, though every nerve screamed at the uncharted sensations, at the forbidden pull she had never known.
"Ah… I’m damn happy… I get to take your first time, and God, it’s mine."
Lexa swiftly freed her lower body from the suffocating grip of her clothes, feeling the tight fabric slip away and her skin awaken under the sudden release. Her body shivered with arousal as her thick, long cock sprang free from its confines, pre‑cum splattering onto her stomach. It was erect, painfully swollen, and rigid, and she could no longer ignore it. Desire pulsed through her, sharp and irresistible, urging her to take control, to bend it entirely to her will.
Lexa gently stroked the area between Clarke's clitoris and vaginal opening, moving a single finger up and down several times.
Clarke's pussy was slick with her juices. Each drop glistened as it flowed warmly and relentlessly. It was almost dripping.
"Putting my dick in you, alright?" Lexa muttered, as if delirious with fever. Her palms, warm and possessive, slid over the bare globes of Clarke’s ass.
“Wait—” Clarke gasped, desperation breaking in her voice. But Lexa didn’t hear; she couldn’t. Desire had seized her so completely that the world around her dissolved into silence.
Lexa's fingers found Clarke's entry, slow and careful at first, coaxing her open. Clarke moaned, her breath catching as the rhythm deepened.
Lexa’s fingers left her, and a momentary emptiness washed over Clarke―but then she felt something else, something hot and hard, rubbing against her pussy lips. She shuddered, struggling to twist away, but Lexa only held her down harder; her body betrayed her―pinned, trembling, unable to escape.
"Shhh… okay… okay… it’s not gonna hurt… I promise… I promise."
Liar. Terrible liar. Heartless lie.
Lexa pushed into Clarke, and fire tore through every inch of her body. She gasped, whined, shuddered… trembling so hard she could barely hold herself together. Heat and pain tangled, sharp and relentless, and it felt like she was fracturing from the inside out. Her vision swam, her thoughts scattered, every nerve screaming—and it burned. Oh, it burned… like she was breaking, melting, everything at once, and she couldn’t stop the strangled, raw cry tearing from her throat.
She froze, a low, strained whisper escaping her lips—“Too tight…”—before pressing a slow, lingering kiss against Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke trembled, tears spilling down her cheeks as she choked back a sob under her touch.
“God… you feel so good,” Lexa moaned, her voice thick and ragged, breath hitching between words. “So… so fucking good…” She sank a little closer, lips brushing skin, eyes half-lidded as waves of heat made her tremble.
And then she started moving again. Slowly, awkwardly, she pulled it all the way out to the tip… and slid it back in, each movement tense, almost trembling.
Clarke could feel every inch—every stiffening, every ache of Lexa.
"Damn it… you… get off me…" Clarke thrashed weakly beneath her, pinned to the desk. Tears blurred her vision, and her voice trembled and broke as she gasped out the words in a jumble of anger, helplessness, and something she couldn’t name: "G-get… away… please…"
Lexa's hard shaft rubbed against Clarke's insides as a lewd, squelching sound echoed. Lexa emitted short, rough, desperate gasps that betrayed the urgency of the moment.
“Hey, Clarke… you probably haven’t noticed, but I’ve been watching you.” Lexa’s ragged breath grazed Clarke’s ear as she spoke. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.” Her voice quivered, carrying the thrill of the moment, the heat between them rising with every shallow breath.
Her hips lost all rhythm, jerking faster, and moans of "Ugh, ugghh, ahh, aaahh," tumbled from her lips, ragged and urgent.
The squelchy sound of Clarke’s pussy grew louder.
Slurp, slurp. Squish, squish, squish. Slap, slap, slap.
Lexa’s breath hitched, rough and uneven, her body trembling with a rhythm that wasn’t entirely her own. Each movement came sharper, needier, as if she were being pulled apart by the feeling. A raw, broken moan—“Guhhh”—tore from her throat before she collapsed against Clarke’s back, her body still quivering from the aftershocks.
Her cock spurted thick semen deep inside Clarke.
Lexa’s softened cock slipped wetly out of her vagina. The hole left by its absence remained open, and a pink liquid—a mixture of semen and blood—flowed out, staining and trickling down Clark's thigh.
The two of them remained frozen, caught between breath and silence. Only the rough sound of their breathing filled the space between their bodies.
Outside, the rain still whispered against the window. The thunder had drifted so far away it was no longer heard, leaving only the occasional flash of lightning that briefly lit the heavy clouds.
Slowly—almost absently—Lexa’s hand began to trace along Clarke’s side. Her touch was unhurried, deliberate. Then, after a moment, something warm and firm pressed against her thigh—alive, pulsing faintly, its heat seeping into her skin.
There was no sign of rescue. The world beyond them had gone still.
It's probably only a matter of time before she says this, between pleasure and defiance, while being thrust into hard doggy style: "FUCK YOU, BITCH"