Drabbletag - Hair
Title: Strawberry-Blonde
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Hair
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Lydia/Malia
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Lydia’s correcting Malia’s math again. It’s a favour, one she doesn’t have to be doing, so the least Malia could do is show some appreciation.
“I am showing appreciation,” Malia protests when Lydia voices her annoyance.
“I meant for the math, not for my hair,” Lydia hisses. She fidgets on to her side, tilting her head so Malia has to look at her and stop sniffing her damn hair already.
She gets something that looks suspiciously like a pout for her troubles, and a huffy little sigh.
“But I like your hair,” Malia insists, trying not so subtly to shift closer. “It’s soft, and it smells nice.”
“That’s my shampoo, you’d get the same effect if you stuck your face in a bowl of strawberries.”
Malia clicks her tongue. “It’s not the shampoo, it’s you.” She smiles in that way that always makes Lydia start feeling warm beneath her clothes. “It’s not just the hair on your head that smells good.”
Lydia groans, flops her face down against the notebook. “Oh God, not this again. I am not growing out my pubic hair for you, stop asking!”
Malia’s definitely pouting now. “But your scent is stronger when there’s more hair down there. I can smell you, like sex and heat.”
“You get me with a full bush or wearing short skirts. You can’t have both,” Lydia snaps.
Malia looks mutinous, but she doesn’t object.
She does bury her face against Lydia’s neck, inhaling the scent of her hair yet again.
Prompt: Drabbletag 5 - Hair
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Lydia/Malia
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 250
Lydia’s correcting Malia’s math again. It’s a favour, one she doesn’t have to be doing, so the least Malia could do is show some appreciation.
“I am showing appreciation,” Malia protests when Lydia voices her annoyance.
“I meant for the math, not for my hair,” Lydia hisses. She fidgets on to her side, tilting her head so Malia has to look at her and stop sniffing her damn hair already.
She gets something that looks suspiciously like a pout for her troubles, and a huffy little sigh.
“But I like your hair,” Malia insists, trying not so subtly to shift closer. “It’s soft, and it smells nice.”
“That’s my shampoo, you’d get the same effect if you stuck your face in a bowl of strawberries.”
Malia clicks her tongue. “It’s not the shampoo, it’s you.” She smiles in that way that always makes Lydia start feeling warm beneath her clothes. “It’s not just the hair on your head that smells good.”
Lydia groans, flops her face down against the notebook. “Oh God, not this again. I am not growing out my pubic hair for you, stop asking!”
Malia’s definitely pouting now. “But your scent is stronger when there’s more hair down there. I can smell you, like sex and heat.”
“You get me with a full bush or wearing short skirts. You can’t have both,” Lydia snaps.
Malia looks mutinous, but she doesn’t object.
She does bury her face against Lydia’s neck, inhaling the scent of her hair yet again.