this is some kind of assassin/hitman au, and this is also so darn short, but I hope you enjoy! on ao3 here.
âIs it true what they say?â
âIs what true?â Lydia asks, trying to move her lips as little as possible. Thankfully, her combination earpiece and microphone is hidden by the flowing blonde wig perched on top of her head. She glances across the ballroom; itâs crowded with revelers, and since all of the servers are dressed identically in white button-downs, black trousers and bow ties, itâs difficult to determine at a glance which one is Allison.
âThat blondes have more fun.â
âNext time, you can be the blonde,â Lydia replies, taking a tiny sip from her glass of champagne.
âFine by me.â Allisonâs voice seamlessly becomes peppier, more upbeat, as she offers an hors d'oeuvre to someone. After a moment, she continues, âI miss the red, but we should still keep that wig.â
âOnly if you keep your outfit.â Glancing to her left, Lydia realizes that Allison is only a few yards away, flowing locks hidden under a black pixie cut wig. She canât risk looking too long, canât let their identities be compromised, but thankfully, Allison immediately looks up, catches her eye and grins.
âDeal,â she says, effortlessly navigating through the crowd with her loaded tray of food. âNow, letâs find this guy so I can take you home and get that dress off you.â
Lydia immediately turns her eyes back to the crowd.
She has a job to do, and quickly at that, because she really wants to know what Allison looks like wearing only her bow tie.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Malia/Kira + A Reunion Kiss - maybe somewhere outside Beacon Hills?
this is super fluffy. canon divergent, future fic, long distance relationship, established relationship.
~1400 words. on ao3 here.Â
Being stuck on an airplane for six hours is not the worst experience Malia has ever lived through, but itâs definitely in the top five.
She was lucky enough to score a window seat, but her seatmate has been aggressively snoring almost from the moment they took off from Sacramento, and their left knee keeps flopping into Maliaâs already limited leg room, no matter how many times she uses her own knee to shove it out of the way. Sheâs extremely hungry; she was too anxious to eat before she left, and the tiny bag of almonds that the stewardess gave her once they were at cruising altitude seems to have bypassed her stomach completely. Her eyes are leaden, begging for some sleep, but every time she tries, something wakes her up, whether it be the damn snoring or a child wailing or a sudden jolt of turbulence.
And then thereâs the smell. Or smells, rather; the combined scents of sweat, jet fuel, alcohol and the nearby bathroom only make her stomach churn more, and no matter how hard she tries to breathe through her mouth, she canât entirely block them out. There are fresh holes in the thighs of her jeans from all the times her claws have popped out of their own accord, and the inside of her mouth tastes like blood from her fangs scraping against her lips, and she is just so damn ready to be back on solid ground.
More importantly, sheâs ready to be in New York, with Kira.
Itâs been two months since they saw each other last, not counting near-constant video calling whenever Kira isnât swamped with schoolwork, and there isnât a single thing about her that Malia doesnât miss. The way she smells like a thunderstorm, the way she cranes up on her tiptoes to kiss Malia, the way her smile makes her whole face light up; Malia misses all of it.
The fact that sheâll be able to see all of those things soon makes up for the fact that flying is freaking terrible.
After what feels like an eternity, during which she shoves her seatmatesâ knee away no less than eight times, the overhead speaker crackles, and the sound is so unexpected that it makes her claws pop out again.
âGood afternoon passengers, we are now beginning our descent into JFK International Airport.â
Thereâs more to the announcement, something about buckling up, but Malia doesnât hear it. Now that sheâs almost finished her journey, now that she can actually look out the window and see the city in the distance, her anxiety is back with a vengeance.
What if this is a mistake? Yes, sheâs been talking to Kira nearly every day, and she seems the same as always, hasnât undergone a radical shift in personality, but what if sheâs just been hiding it? What if sheâs even met someone else?
What if this whole thing, the being trapped for six hours on a glorified, stinking tin can, was for nothing?
âExcuse me, youâre supposed to put your tray table up.â
It takes Malia a moment to realize that itâs her seatmate talking to her. Their voice is horribly nasally, and when Malia glances over, their eyes are rheumy from sleeping the entire flight away.
Popping her table up, Malia mutters under her breath, âIf your knee touches me one more time, Iâm going to break it.â
She didnât exactly intend for the person to hear it, but they immediately yank their knee away, and for the rest of the stomach-swooping descent, they stay in their own space.
Malia makes a note to, if the same thing happens on her flight back to California, issue the threat the first time it happens.
Itâs another twenty minutes before, with a vicious jolt, the wheels touch down onto the runaway. Her seat belt locks against her waist as the plane rapidly slows down, and she closes her eyes, claws digging into her palms.
Next time she has to make this journey, sheâs taking the train. She doesnât care how much longer it takes.
It takes another fifteen minutes for them to taxi to their arrival gate, and by the time the airplane actually shuts down with a series of whooshes and clicks, Malia is ready to vault over her seatmate and run out of the plane, carry-on be damned.
The only thing that keeps her still is the fact that her carry-on is loaded with gifts for Kira. Not to mention her toothbrush.
She wants until her seatmate has started walking up the aisle before she slides out of her seat, yanks her bag from the overhead bin, and starts making her way out of the plane. Even though she steps straight from the airplane into a portable tunnel that leads into the terminal, she can already feel just how damn cold it is compared to home, and she tugs her sweater (a gift from Kira) tighter to her chest as she follows the rest of the crowd, darting around those who are walking too damn slow.
Her anxiety is affecting her stomach so strongly that she momentarily thinks about finding a garbage can and throwing up, but before she can make a decision either way, she steps out into the terminal and there, on the other side of a wall of glass, is Kira.
Sheâs glancing down at her phone, but before Malia can try to surprise her, she looks back up and smiles, and she looks so damn beautiful and happy that every last one of Maliaâs doubts go flying out the window.
She speeds up nearly to a jog and meets Kira where the glass gives way to an exit manned by two hulking TSA agents. As soon as Malia has slipped between them (and stepped aside just far enough for other people to be able to stream by them), she lets her bag drop to the floor and wraps her arms around Kiraâs waist, pulling her in close to her chest.
Even though sheâs technically been out of the air for over half an hour, she finally feels grounded again.
âI missed you,â Kira says. Her words and breath are warm against Maliaâs collarbone, and her arms are woven tightly around Maliaâs neck. âI missed you so much.â
Pressing her face into Kiraâs soft hair, Malia answers, âI missed you too,â as she wraps her fingers in the hem of Kiraâs oversized sweater. She inhales deeply, letting the familiar scent of Kiraâs shampoo (and the omnipresent hint of electricity) wash over her. The sounds of the airport should be overwhelming, but she closes her eyes and focuses on Kiraâs strong, fast heartbeat, and the maelstrom of anxiety and restlessness thatâs been plaguing her since Kira left for school immediately begins to calm down.
âHow was your flight?â Kira asks. She doesnât remove her arms from around Maliaâs neck, but she does take a step backwards, just far enough so that her face isnât pressed against Maliaâs collarbone anymore. There are slight bags under her eyes, and tiny pieces of her hair are flying away from her ponytail, and she looks so utterly gorgeous that Malia momentarily forgets what the question was.
âIt was fine,â she eventually answers with a shrug. Itâs a slight understatement, but she doesnât think she needs to give Kira a numbered list of just all the reasons the journey was awful.
Besides, even if she did have to put up with her obnoxiously snoring seatmate and far too many smells, it was all worth it.
âGood,â Kira answers, craning up and bumping her nose against Maliaâs. âIâm so happy youâre here. Thereâs so much I want to show you.â The happiness seems to radiate off her, as bright as her fox aura and, not for the first time, it bowls Malia over slightly, just how lucky she is to have Kira in her life at all, let alone as her girlfriend.
Tilting her head down, she slots their lips together. Kira gasps softly into the kiss, and her lips part slightly. Her nails gently scratch at the back of Maliaâs neck, and Malia gently presses her teeth in Kiraâs bottom lip, tugging softly. When she pulls away, Kiraâs cheeks are flushed pink, and thereâs a distinct orange glimmer in her eyes.
âCan we maybe spend some time at your apartment first before you show me anything else?â Malia asks.
Kira nods and drops her arms from Maliaâs neck so that she can twist their fingers together.
âDefinitely. Ready?â
Stooping to grab her bag from the floor, Malia nods.
Malia/Lydia + 24. Slow Dancing - maybe at someone's wedding?
so I ended up going with slow dancing at a high school reunion, because I did a dancing at someoneâs wedding fic fairly recently. set 10 years after senior year.Â
430 words, on ao3 here.
âDid we actually graduate with all of these people?â
âYes,â Lydia answers, casting a glance around the gymnasium. Itâs been redone since she was last at the school; itâs been expanded into the area that the cafeteria used to occupy, and the walls have been painted a particularly ugly shade of beige. Pennants and banners are hanging from the rafters, dozens more than Lydia remembers. The lights are dimmed down low, low enough to give her flashbacks to their senior prom (which was somehow ten years ago, even though it feels like it was yesterday). The dance floor is packed with couples swaying to the slow song pouring from the huge speakers mounted in the corners of the room. âMost of them at least.â
âHuh,â Malia mutters, tightening her arms around Lydiaâs neck, fingers lightly scratching at her nape. âI seriously donât remember any of them.â
âI mean, you usually had more important things on your mind than getting to know people,â Lydia replies, squeezing Maliaâs hips. âLike passing math.â
âAnd dealing with Dread Doctors. And hunters.â Maliaâs fingers slide up into her hair, and Lydia shudders slightly. âAnd you. I thought about you a lot.â
âHow romantic.â Itâs about as sappy as Malia ever gets, but Lydia doesnât mind; she knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she first kissed Malia in senior year, and she doesnât regret it one bit. As the song begins to draw to a close, she leans in and softly presses her lips to Maliaâs. As Maliaâs tongue brushes against her bottom lip, Lydia inches her hands just under the hem of Maliaâs blouse, so that she can press her fingertips to the smooth skin at the base of her spine.
In response, Malia moans, and her teeth gently tug on Lydiaâs lip.
âWant to go make out in the bathroom until the others get here?â she asks, no longer swaying to the fading music.
âJust like high school?â Lydia teases.
âJust like my favorite part of high school,â Malia confirms. âUnless thereâs someone you want to talk to first.â
Lydia gives the room a quick appraising scan. There are a few people scattered around the vast room that she wouldnât mind briefly catching up with, but that can wait until later in the night, once sheâs had a bit to drink.
For now, until Scott, Stiles and Kira finally arrive, she thinks that Maliaâs plan is a great one.
âThey can all wait,â she answers, sliding her hands away from Maliaâs hips and tangling their fingers together. âLead the way.â
touch prompt #6 = piggy back rides! I decided to combine this with a prompt originally left (by you!) on drabble tag round 7 at the LJ femslash100 community!Â
so hereâs piggy back rides + Lydia/Kira +Â âsupportiveâ!
on ao3 here!
Lydia is very glad that she decided to be practical and forgo her wedge sandals in favor of flip-flops, because while sheâs certainly not clumsy or unsteady on her feet, sheâs certain that trying to give her drunk girlfriend a piggy-back in wedges would still have been disastrous.
Kiraâs hands are clasped loosely together and dangling between Lydiaâs breasts. Her arms are slack around Lydiaâs neck, and her cheek is pressed against the back of Lydiaâs head, mussing up her hair with every step Lydia takes.
âYouâre going to be so hungover tomorrow morning,â Lydia sighs resignedly, taking careful steps up the winding path leading away from the beach to the cottage theyâve all rented for the weekend.
Kira giggles loudly.
âYouâre so⊠supporting.â She bursts into more laughter, arms tightening around Lydiaâs neck, and Lydia sighs again.
Of all the things for Kira to pick up from hanging around drunken Stiles, it had to be his love for atrocious puns.
âIâm going to repeat that to you when you wake up tomorrow,â she says, taking a moment to bump Kira up her back before she starts ascending the short flight of stairs leading to the cottageâs porch. âAnd sober you is going to be embarrassed.â
âMaybe,â Kira mumbles, mouthing at the side of Lydiaâs head. âDo you still love me anyway?â
Lydia ducks her chin to her chest so that she can kiss Kiraâs clasped hands.
âI love you very much. Even if youâre a dork when youâre drunk.â
and weâre back with round two! like it says on the tin, this is a complete list of what Iâve written between the beginning of April and the end of June!
some statistics:
total number of fics: 67
total number of fandoms: 12
total word count: 75,925
most common pairing: Malia/Kira and Betty/Veronica are both tied with four fics a piece!
and now, for the fics!
American Gods
a conversation long overdue. Audrey/Laura. 1615 words. Rated T. ao3.
âYou know, it didnât have to be Robbie. It could have been you, just as easily, if youâd been the one to pick up the phone. If youâd been the one to come over and deal with the fucking cat.â
energetic praise you wanted. Bilquis/Media. 250 words. Rated M. ao3.
"Oh, honey," she says, words ghosting over Bilquis' swollen flesh. "I'm afraid that isn't going to work on me."
rage looks good on you. Audrey/Laura. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"You are the most selfish bitch in the entire universe."
Borderlands
a high degree of caution. Lilith/Mad Moxxi. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"You know, this is definitely on the list of things most people don't screw around with." Â
Crossover
Intermission. Allison Argent (Teen Wolf) / Jo Harvelle (Supernatural). 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"You know, I could have taken that vamp on my own."
Gotham
a little healthy competition. Barbara/Tabitha. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"I bet that I can make you come before they finish their set."
Hannibal
Decoy. Alana/Margot. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
For the time being, using Will as a decoy is the best option available to them.
once, twice, three times. Beverly/Molly. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
Beverly has never been much of a believer in the concept of soulmates.
Jane Got A Gun (2016)
weak spot (everybody has one). John Bishop/Vic Owen. 1248 words. Rated M. ao3.
âIf you cannot hold your tongue, I will cut it out of your head.â
Logan (2017)
change of plans. Donald Pierce/Logan. 3655 words. Rated T. ao3.
When Logan refuses to give Pierce the girl, Pierce decides to tell him a secret.
how to fall through the cracks. Donald Pierce/Logan. 3245 words. Rated M. ao3.
Pierce and Logan have met before, in an El Paso bar in the early hours of the morning. Logan just doesn't remember.
threat assessment. Donald Pierce/Logan. 5268 words. Rated M. ao3.
Pierce and Logan have met before, in an El Paso bar in the early hours of the morning. Logan just doesn't remember.
Pierce, on the other hand, remembers everything.
Power Rangers (2017)
comfort above all else. Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
"Are any of those clothes yours?"
no sign of movement. Â Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
"Trini," she says for the eighth time, "we're going to be late if you don't move."
the thing that lives in the dark. Rita Repulsa/Trini. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
All small towns have their own sets of tales, their own legends passed down through generations. Angel Grove is no different.
Wrong Number. Kimberly/Trini. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
A little miscommunication with the boys means that Trini and Kim have half an hour to themselves.
Preacher
Sacrilegious. Emily/Tulip. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
Emily is fairly certain that what she's doing counts as an act of sacrilege.
Riverdale
an unspoken promise. Betty/Veronica. Rated G. ao3.
Veronica has been given enough jewelry in her life to recognize a necklace box when she sees it.
Betrothal. Cheryl/Polly. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
The footsteps stop on her left, and when she glances left through the netting of her veil, she's met with a glimpse of vivid red hair. It belongs to a Blossom, there's no doubt about that, but it's the wrong Blossom.
do you do more than dance? Betty/Cheryl. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
Cheryl Blossom is dancing on a table in a fire-red bralette and pleated skirt, and she won't stop staring at Betty.
feels like the first time. Alice/FP. 3380 words. Rated E. ao3.
On a hot summer night by the shores of Sweetwater River, after senior year comes to an end, Alice and FP find a moment of bliss. Â
find a home for your love (home isnât always a place). Alice/FP/Fred. 5407 words. Rated E. ao3.
Sometimes, a threesome isn't just a threesome. Sometimes, it's a plea for something more
hit me (where you want it). Betty/Cheryl. 250 words. Rated E. ao3.
Cheryl doesn't know where the cane originally came from, but she does know that Betty knows how to use it.
Hitch. Betty/Cheryl/Veronica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"Let Veronica eat you out."
how to keep a secret. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
Hal has no idea that she's been intermittently fantasizing about Hermione Lodge since high school.
just keep your eyes on me. Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
It's not that Betty is afraid of heights. Really. She's not.
one day (iâll kiss it all away). Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
Veronica is thirteen when she starts feeling her soulmate's pain.
peel it all back. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
At initial glance, Alice Cooper's entire life is the definition of neat.
running interference. Alice/Hermione. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
The supply closet of the White Wyrm is not made for make-out sessions.
somewhere in her smile. Hermione/Mary. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
"We could be like them," she says, lowering her gaze to where Mary's fingers are clasped in her lap. "Like FP and Fred. If you wanted to."
stages of healing. FP/Fred. 1509 words. Rated T. ao3.
FPâs hands have been scarred for as long as Fred can remember.
vow of silence. Betty/Veronica. 250 words. Rated E. ao3.
"We have to be quiet."
Supernatural
savor the present. Anna/Jo. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
The last time Jo saw her, Anna was 19. The time before that, she was 32. Next time, she might be 70 or 4. There's no way to predict.
Stress Relief. Meg 2.0/Ruby 1.0. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
"Get yourself a new meatsuit?"
swallow it down. Meg 2.0/Ruby 1.0. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"Sex pollen? Are you kidding me?"
Vacation Plans. Castiel/Dean. 965 words. Rated M. ao3.
Written for the prompt âcas/dean - cas walks in on dean jerking off OR vice versa :D."
Teen Wolf
a day in the sun. Peter/Stiles. 494 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
Peter can think of about a dozen different places that he'd rather be off the top of his head, but it was Stiles' turn to pick where they went for their weekly Saturday date, and as much as Peter likes upsetting traditions, there are some things that he simply can't be bothered to go against.
all the amenities of home. Allison/Kira/Lydia. 1879 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr.
Established polyamory, sex tapes, masturbation and facesitting.
any way you want it (thatâs the way you need it). Malia/Kira. 2429 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr.
Malia wants to know how to make Kira feel good. The obvious solution is to watch her masturbate.
Begin Transmission. Derek/Stiles & Isaac/Scott. Completed WIP. 26 chapters, 11 added since first quarter. 55,178 words total, 19,346 added since last quarter. Rated E. ao3.
After the events with the alpha pack and the darach, Stiles is thrust into his new role as the emissary for Scottâs pack. Itâs a demanding position, one that requires years and years of study.
bite down, bite down (into me). Allison/Stiles. 1036 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr.
Allison Argent is the furthest thing from a werewolf, but you wouldnât know that from how eagerly she sinks her teeth into Stilesâ flesh.
Cold Comfort. Laura/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
The scream tears Lydia out of sleep, rips her out of a dream that she immediately forgets.
Comfort Food. Malia/Kira. 414 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
Malia is standing in front of her locker, one hand crumpled into a fist at her side, the other clutching a sheet of paper that's nearly torn in half. There's a deep dent in the door of the locker, so deep that Kira is surprised the metal didn't completely break. Malia's breathing is loud and uneven, and Kira approaches her slowly, not wanting to surprise her.
Contentment. Braeden/Kira. 544 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
Braeden's never been particularly fond of sharing her things with others, but for almost five years, Kira has been the exception, particularly when it comes to clothes.
Exchange. Braeden/Laura. 500 words. Rated G. ao3.
Breaking into Hale Industries is a cakewalk.
Firelight. Kira/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
The slur in Kira's voice is soft but distinct, and Lydia glances down at her tipsy girlfriend, who is stretched out with her head in Lydia's lap.
hiding in plain sight. Erica/Kali. 500 words. Rated T. ao3.
"Should have left town when you had the chance, Kali."
it comes seeping in (when you close your eyes). Allison/Nogitsune. 1328 words. ao3.
The other girlâs eyes, her eyes, are very black, impossibly black, and when Allison stares at them, she has the distinct feeling that the ground underneath her feet is tilting, that sheâs about to fall into a deep hole that sheâll never be able to claw her way out of.
just the two of us. Boyd/Erica. 2431 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
The one where Erica gets a cold at college, Boyd comes to take care of her, and love confessions happen.
make some noise. Laura/Stiles. 527 words. Rated E. ao3 & tumblr.
The real reason she'd opted out of the trip was because of Stiles, because she wanted to be loud in her own bedroom for once.
Nightcall. Parrish/Stiles. 1680 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr.
Jordan can count on one hand the number of times heâs worked a quiet night shift since moving to Beacon Hills.
(Or, the one where on-duty phone sex is almost a thing, but a collapsing shelf gets in the way.)
nothing but sun and sand. Malia/Kira. 1210 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
On the first day of their week-long vacation, Kira and Malia share a moment of quiet down by the ocean.
only oceans can separate us. Cora/Lydia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
"You should get to bed soon, babe."
put the past behind you. Lydia/Malia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
"I know this is weird for both of us, and I know you don't wanna talk about it. Do you wanna get drunk and make out in the bathroom instead?"
rate your pain. Allison/Stiles. 438 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr.
"On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think this is going to hurt?"
ripped to shreds. Laura/Stiles. 386 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr.
And, also like her, he wants to rip off Kate Argent's head.
sands of time. Noshiko/Marie-Jeanne & Allison/Kira. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
In the 900 years of her life, Noshiko has had relationships with more people than she can count.
seasons change (but people donât). Malia/Kira. 2340 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
The one where Malia hates airports but is willing to brave the chaos so that she can finally meet Kira in person.
sway. Allison/Malia. 250 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
Malia is never drinking again.
sync up the cuts (to the bass drum kick). Laura/Stiles. 581 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
Watching Laura perform is like watching a tornado decimate a town.
Territorial. Laura/Kali. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
âI thought I told you to get out of my territory.â
the best girlfriend ever. Allison/Stiles. 636 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
âI really hope this doesnât look as ridiculous as it feels.â
Tighten Up. Allison/Erica. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
"How much time do we have until the game is over?"
Total Control. Allison/Scott/Stiles. 312 words. Rated T. ao3 & tumblr.
Allison takes his left wrist, while Stiles' thicker fingers take his right, and as they start winding the scarves (or at least that's what they feel like) around his wrists and the headboard, it becomes clear just how flimsy the fabric is, how easy it would be to tear through it.
The Walking Dead
a loud awakening. Daryl/Jesus. 453 words. Rated G. ao3 & tumblr.
His fingers skim over a sun-warmed hip, and he cracks open one eye just long to see Jesus looking down at him with an amused smile on his face, hair loose around his shoulders, bare-chested with a mug of coffee in his hand.
a steady decline. Andrea/Michonne. 250 words. Rated G. ao3.
Andrea is getting sicker.
getting caught (ainât always a bad thing). Daryl/Jesus. 918 words. Rated M. ao3 & tumblr.
When Jesus wakes up to an empty apartment on his day off, he decides to use his time in the shower for other purposes.
Proximity. Beth/Carol. 250 words. Rated T. ao3.
While the days are growing longer and warmer, the interior of the prison is still cold, especially at night.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
I decided to go with 41 (comfort food) and malira! on ao3 here.
Kira hears Malia before she sees her.
Sheâs just stepped out of her history classroom, made her way into the bustling stream of the hallway, when a loud clang echoes through the air. Itâs coming from the direction of Maliaâs locker, which is just around the corner, and she starts walking faster, using her small size to her advantage, ducking around groups and between people, heart racing. Itâs all too possible that the sound doesnât have anything to do with her girlfriend, but seeing as how Malia was supposed to take a math test during the period that just concluded, Kira is willing to bet the clang has something to do with that.
Her instincts are correct. When she manages to veer around a group of people dawdling down the center of the hall, she sees Malia standing in front of her locker, one hand crumpled into a fist at her side, the other clutching a sheet of paper thatâs nearly torn in half. Thereâs a deep dent in the door of the locker, so deep that Kira is surprised the metal didnât completely break. Maliaâs breathing is loud and uneven, and Kira approaches her slowly, not wanting to surprise her.
âHey,â she says quietly. âWhat happened?â When she glances down at the piece of paper in Maliaâs hand, she realizes that itâs part of her review notes for math, notes that theyâd worked on together last week.
âI failed,â Malia says through gritted teeth, eyes still pointed towards the damaged locker. âI couldnât remember how to do anything.â
âYou donât know that for sure,â Kira replies, stepping a little closer and brushing one finger against Maliaâs wrist. Itâs a small touch, but it seems to eliminate some of the tension in her body. âAnd if you did, weâll just keep working on it, okay? Weâll get there.â Malia takes a deep breath in and releases it through her nose, eyes closed. When she opens them again, theyâre almost entirely human.
âOkay.â She pulls Kira into a hug tight enough to knock the air out of her and presses her face into Kiraâs hair. Kira strokes the length of her spine and rocks into Maliaâs chest.
âWeâll deal with this together,â she murmurs against Maliaâs collarbone. âDo you want to go get ice cream after school? Comfort food always helps.â
Malia nods and presses her lips against Kiraâs temple, follows it up by rubbing her nose against the spot.
malia/lydia + "listen our ex-boyfriend is getting married to the love of his life. wanna get drunk and make out?"
I decided to use this for the âfutureficâ square on my femslash 100 tropes drabble cycle table, which is why itâs so short. on ao3 here!
contains past Lydia/Scott, past Malia/Stiles, and married Scott/Stiles.
âHe looks good, doesnât he?â
Lydia looks up from her slice of cake and follows Maliaâs gaze to the dance floor, where Scott and Stiles are in the midst of their first dance as a married couple. Scottâs beaming, eyes bright, fingers entwined with Stilesâ. They both look happy, and the sight makes something warm (and slightly bitter, although itâs been years since her and Scott were a thing) flash in her chest.
âThey both do,â she says, taking a sip of wine. Malia doesnât say anything further, and when Lydia glances over at her girlfriend, sheâs still staring at the dance floor, chin propped on one hand. âEverything okay, babe?â
âYeah,â she shrugs. Lydia doesnât need enhanced senses to know that itâs a lie. Before Malia can expand any further, the first dance comes to an end, and the room bursts out into loud applause, followed by a wave of laughter when Stiles pulls an exaggerated bow, fingers still hooked with Scottâs.
Once the room has quieted back to a comforting buzz of dozens of overlapping conversations, Malia leans in towards Lydia, fingers wrapped around a flask containing a potent blend of wolfsbane vodka that Lydia mixed up special for this occasion.
âI know this is weird for both of us,â she says, voice pitched low, âand I know you donât wanna talk about it. Do you wanna get drunk and make out in the bathroom instead?â
Lydia silently tips back her glass of wine, draining it.
Allison/Lydia - Long Distance Relationship and/or Social Media~
~700 words of married couple, domestic fluff, using the long distance relationship prompt! on ao3 here!
When Allisonâs phone rings, sheâs sitting on the balcony, book in one hand, steaming mug of coffee in the other. The winter chill hasnât entirely left the air yet, but the sun is out, the sky is cloudless, and thereâs absolutely no wind, so sheâs perfectly cozy in a pair of thick socks and a heavy sweater borrowed from Lydiaâs closet. The balcony door is open so that some of the winter stuffiness can air out of the apartment, and her phone is resting on the floor just on the other side of the door frame, so sheâs able to easily grab it by simply leaning over the arm of the plastic chair.
âHey Lyds,â she answers after checking the caller ID. âHowâs the weather in your part of the world?â
âUnpredictable and annoying,â Lydia replies, her voice slightly muffled by the crackling of the connection. âTwo days ago, I went to class in a dress and was sweating. Yesterday, it was so cold I couldnât breathe, and it snowed. I donât know how these people do it every year.â
âIâm sure youâd get used to it, if you stayed long enough,â Allison laughs. Lydia has been a visiting professor at a Toronto university for nearly six months now, and Allison lost count long ago of the number of times sheâs complained about the cold.
Apparently, even though theyâve been living in Boston for nearly five years, part of Lydia is still firmly stuck in California.
âMaybe by the time I come home, all of the snow will have melted.â
âI hope so,â Allison says, trying not to let the excitement leak too strongly into her voice. Thereâs still three months until Lydia will be back for good, and while itâs not like they havenât seen each other at all since September, Allison is still counting down the days until she can once again wake up beside her wife every morning. âSo what are your plans for the day?â
âI have some errands to run. That and grading. So much grading,â she groans. Before Allison can make a quip, she hears someone knock on the apartmentâs door. She isnât expecting anyone, but chances are that itâs Scott and Stiles; they drop by at least four times a week, and they usually bring food with them, either take-out or a home-cooked meal ready to heat up in the oven.
She wonât lie, itâs been nice saving money on the grocery bill, but the fact that theyâre treating her like a bereaved widow is a bit ridiculous.
âPretty sure Scott and Stiles are here,â she says, setting her coffee cup on the ground and getting to her feet. âIâm surprised theyâre even awake at this hour.â Lydia simply hums, which is a bit of a strange reaction, but Allison decides to wait until after she opens the door to ask if everything is okay.
She expects to see Scott and Stiles standing on the other side of the door, or maybe a delivery person bearing gifts from Lydia.
Instead, sheâs met with Lydia herself.
âI wasnât kidding about the grading,â Lydia says, ending the call and tucking her phone into the pocket of her belted, forest green trench coat. âBut I can work on that later.â
âYouâre here,â Allison says, lips curving into a smile that she couldnât stop even if she wanted to. âYouâre actually here. For how long?â
âFor a week,â Lydia answers, stepping into the apartment, pulling her suitcase along behind her. âThe school gives all the students a week off for studying for midterms, and Iâm taking full advantage of it.â
âI could have picked you up from the airport! I could have had breakfast ready-â
âAllison,â Lydia interrupts, releasing the handle of her suitcase and pressing herself against Allisonâs front, âI wanted to surprise you. You can drive me back to the airport when I have to leave, and if you really want to, you can make me breakfast in an hour. But thereâs something I want to do first.â Before Allison can answer, Lydia leans up on her toes, presses her lips against Allisonâs, and slides her hands into Allisonâs loose hair. Allison immediately parts her lips, backs up until her spine is pressed against the wall and curls her fingers around Lydiaâs hips, tugging her in even closer.
By the time they get around to making breakfast, itâs nearly noon.
