(Teen Wolf) Stairwell To Heaven
Title: Stairwell To Heaven
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Lydia/Malia
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1192
Notes: Public sex/exhibitionism. For Teen Wolf Femslash Week, and Kink Bingo, prompt "in public".
Summary: There are places in the school they could go, places they wouldn't be disturbed. But Malia doesn't want to wait a second longer, and Lydia's not feeling all that patient either.
They’re tucked in the back of a stairwell, pretty much in full view of anybody who walks past, and Malia has her hand up Lydia’s skirt.
This is not going to end well.
Admittedly, class in session, and most students with a free period have already made themselves scarce. But that doesn’t mean this is in any way safe, that they won’t be found like this. Somebody could be late for class, or need the bathroom, or be straggling on their way to the library.
Somebody could see them.
Lydia pulls at Malia’s shirt, tries to tilt her head back from the kiss, no matter how incredible it feels. “C’mon, let’s find somewhere more private,” she murmurs, already breathless. She’s an expert at school hook-ups, after all, knows all the best places they won’t be disturbed.
Malia’s fingers stroke high up Lydia’s thigh, and there’s a low noise rumbling in her chest that sounds suspiciously like a growl. “I don’t want to wait any longer,” she huffs, pushing back in against Lydia’s body so she can suck at the skin right behind Lydia’s ear. “You smell too good.”
Coach’s office isn’t that far away. Or there’s a bathroom right around the corner, which may never have been Lydia’s favourite place to have sex but she’s willing to make an exception for Malia. Anywhere would be better than where they are right now.
But Malia’s already sinking to her knees, and Lydia isn’t doing a damn thing to stop her.
“I’ll hear,” Malia says roughly, looking up the length of Lydia’s body. “If anyone’s coming this way, I’ll hear.”
Lydia bites her lip. God, this is a bad idea. “You better hope the only one coming is me,” she hisses, and Malia smirks, grabbing Lydia’s hips and pulling them forward.
Lydia’s back arches, head falling back to rest against the wall, as Malia noses her way under Lydia’s skirt. Opening her mouth against the fabric of Lydia’s panties, breathing hot and damp against her cunt, and Lydia feels herself throb for it, a shiver stealing up her spine.
Malia drags her tongue over the panties, sucks at the material until it’s damp with her spit, with Lydia’s pleasure, until she’s squirming and pulling impatiently at Malia’s hair.
“While I’m young,” Lydia snaps warningly, and she can feel Malia’s grin.
She exhales shakily when Malia tugs the panties down her thighs, lets them fall to the floor around her ankles. Lifting her feet so she can step out of them, because plausible deniability is going to be a hard stretch as it is if someone does chance upon them, but her coral pink panties around her knees would make it impossible.
Malia shoves them in her pocket, and Lydia raises her eyebrows pointedly. “You’re giving those back when you’re done.”
Malia just gives her a noncommittal grunt and once again disappears under Lydia’s skirt.
It doesn’t seem possible that her breath can be even hotter without the panties between her mouth and Lydia’s skin, but it definitely feels that way. Lydia digs her teeth into her bottom lip, trying to keep her gasps to herself, and failing miserably when Malia’s lips purse around her clit. Kissing at it, sucking at it, and Lydia hooks a leg over Malia’s shoulder and tries to fuck herself down against the pressure.
Malia responds by holding Lydia’s hips still in immovable hands, and going even slower.
Sweet slick friction, Malia pushing hard with her lips, flicking soft with her tongue. Working Lydia open until she can lick inside, wet and roiling, and Lydia can feel herself shaking in earnest, hips twitching under Malia’s hands, those hot-cold streaks of sensation growing stronger and stronger.
And that’s when she hears it.
Laughter and voices, not loud but not quiet either. Bouncing off the echoing walls.
Getting nearer.
“Malia!” she gasps, or tries to, voice sounding raspy and distracted. Shivery feeling of pleasure getting tighter, like a knot at the base of her spine, heart thudding and blood rushing through her veins. And Malia keeps grinding her mouth, keeps twirling her tongue in all those ways that make Lydia forget herself, that make Lydia do stupid things like have sex in stairwells.
The voices are definitely getting louder. Definitely nearer.
Lydia’s thighs are trembling, and she knows what that means, knows how close she is. And Malia clearly knows it too, letting out a hungry groan that vibrates against Lydia’s flesh, makes her squeak and drive her teeth back into her lip. It’s too loud; those people, whoever they are, they must be able to hear the noises she and Malia are making, must be able to, and somehow it’s making Lydia hotter, wetter, making her pulse against Malia’s tongue.
She’s dizzy, eyes rolling up, hand slapping over her mouth at the last second because she knows she can’t hold back her moan.
Malia presses her face close, finally releasing her grip on Lydia’s hips enough to let Lydia fuck her way through her climax just as hard as she needs.
Lydia can feel her shirt clinging to her skin, heat flushed all the way up the back of her neck. Panting open-mouthed, chest heaving as she pulls herself back together.
Malia’s sitting on her heels, smiling up at her.
“Where are they?” Lydia whispers, eyes darting to the corridor, ears straining to hear the voices again.
Malia shrugs, like their almost-audience was inconsequential. “In the bathroom. They weren’t coming down this way - I told you I’d hear if someone was.”
Lydia narrows her eyes. “That was a pretty big gamble, sweetheart.” She lets the pet-name drip with sarcasm. “How did you know they weren’t heading for a different bathroom.”
Malia just shrugs again, clearly unbothered by the lucky escape. Her hair is tousled from where the fabric of Lydia’s skirt rucked up over it, her lips still shining with Lydia’s release.
Lydia really wants to be mad at her, but Malia makes it so damn hard to be.
She does reach out for Malia’s wrist, though, once Malia is on her feet and stepping away. “Forgetting something?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
Malia sighs and gives her a sulky look, before fishing Lydia’s panties out of her pocket and handing them over.
Lydia steps back into them, watching Malia’s pupils dilate for the slow drag of lace sliding up Lydia’s legs. She takes Malia’s hand, squeezing her fingers. “Your turn,” Lydia promises with a smile. “And this time we’re going somewhere we don’t have to worry about being interrupted, so I can take my time.”
Looks like they’ll be paying a visit to Coach’s office, after all. Nice and private there, because Coach Finstock is a man of habit, and Lydia knows he won’t be back until last period.
Still, there was something about the thrill of it, of knowing how close they were to being caught, to the way it just made her come faster, harder. Probably not a good idea to risk it twice in one afternoon, though.
Still, Lydia decides against locking the door to the office behind them. Just for the hell of it.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing: Lydia/Malia
Rating: NC-17
Words: 1192
Notes: Public sex/exhibitionism. For Teen Wolf Femslash Week, and Kink Bingo, prompt "in public".
Summary: There are places in the school they could go, places they wouldn't be disturbed. But Malia doesn't want to wait a second longer, and Lydia's not feeling all that patient either.
They’re tucked in the back of a stairwell, pretty much in full view of anybody who walks past, and Malia has her hand up Lydia’s skirt.
This is not going to end well.
Admittedly, class in session, and most students with a free period have already made themselves scarce. But that doesn’t mean this is in any way safe, that they won’t be found like this. Somebody could be late for class, or need the bathroom, or be straggling on their way to the library.
Somebody could see them.
Lydia pulls at Malia’s shirt, tries to tilt her head back from the kiss, no matter how incredible it feels. “C’mon, let’s find somewhere more private,” she murmurs, already breathless. She’s an expert at school hook-ups, after all, knows all the best places they won’t be disturbed.
Malia’s fingers stroke high up Lydia’s thigh, and there’s a low noise rumbling in her chest that sounds suspiciously like a growl. “I don’t want to wait any longer,” she huffs, pushing back in against Lydia’s body so she can suck at the skin right behind Lydia’s ear. “You smell too good.”
Coach’s office isn’t that far away. Or there’s a bathroom right around the corner, which may never have been Lydia’s favourite place to have sex but she’s willing to make an exception for Malia. Anywhere would be better than where they are right now.
But Malia’s already sinking to her knees, and Lydia isn’t doing a damn thing to stop her.
“I’ll hear,” Malia says roughly, looking up the length of Lydia’s body. “If anyone’s coming this way, I’ll hear.”
Lydia bites her lip. God, this is a bad idea. “You better hope the only one coming is me,” she hisses, and Malia smirks, grabbing Lydia’s hips and pulling them forward.
Lydia’s back arches, head falling back to rest against the wall, as Malia noses her way under Lydia’s skirt. Opening her mouth against the fabric of Lydia’s panties, breathing hot and damp against her cunt, and Lydia feels herself throb for it, a shiver stealing up her spine.
Malia drags her tongue over the panties, sucks at the material until it’s damp with her spit, with Lydia’s pleasure, until she’s squirming and pulling impatiently at Malia’s hair.
“While I’m young,” Lydia snaps warningly, and she can feel Malia’s grin.
She exhales shakily when Malia tugs the panties down her thighs, lets them fall to the floor around her ankles. Lifting her feet so she can step out of them, because plausible deniability is going to be a hard stretch as it is if someone does chance upon them, but her coral pink panties around her knees would make it impossible.
Malia shoves them in her pocket, and Lydia raises her eyebrows pointedly. “You’re giving those back when you’re done.”
Malia just gives her a noncommittal grunt and once again disappears under Lydia’s skirt.
It doesn’t seem possible that her breath can be even hotter without the panties between her mouth and Lydia’s skin, but it definitely feels that way. Lydia digs her teeth into her bottom lip, trying to keep her gasps to herself, and failing miserably when Malia’s lips purse around her clit. Kissing at it, sucking at it, and Lydia hooks a leg over Malia’s shoulder and tries to fuck herself down against the pressure.
Malia responds by holding Lydia’s hips still in immovable hands, and going even slower.
Sweet slick friction, Malia pushing hard with her lips, flicking soft with her tongue. Working Lydia open until she can lick inside, wet and roiling, and Lydia can feel herself shaking in earnest, hips twitching under Malia’s hands, those hot-cold streaks of sensation growing stronger and stronger.
And that’s when she hears it.
Laughter and voices, not loud but not quiet either. Bouncing off the echoing walls.
Getting nearer.
“Malia!” she gasps, or tries to, voice sounding raspy and distracted. Shivery feeling of pleasure getting tighter, like a knot at the base of her spine, heart thudding and blood rushing through her veins. And Malia keeps grinding her mouth, keeps twirling her tongue in all those ways that make Lydia forget herself, that make Lydia do stupid things like have sex in stairwells.
The voices are definitely getting louder. Definitely nearer.
Lydia’s thighs are trembling, and she knows what that means, knows how close she is. And Malia clearly knows it too, letting out a hungry groan that vibrates against Lydia’s flesh, makes her squeak and drive her teeth back into her lip. It’s too loud; those people, whoever they are, they must be able to hear the noises she and Malia are making, must be able to, and somehow it’s making Lydia hotter, wetter, making her pulse against Malia’s tongue.
She’s dizzy, eyes rolling up, hand slapping over her mouth at the last second because she knows she can’t hold back her moan.
Malia presses her face close, finally releasing her grip on Lydia’s hips enough to let Lydia fuck her way through her climax just as hard as she needs.
Lydia can feel her shirt clinging to her skin, heat flushed all the way up the back of her neck. Panting open-mouthed, chest heaving as she pulls herself back together.
Malia’s sitting on her heels, smiling up at her.
“Where are they?” Lydia whispers, eyes darting to the corridor, ears straining to hear the voices again.
Malia shrugs, like their almost-audience was inconsequential. “In the bathroom. They weren’t coming down this way - I told you I’d hear if someone was.”
Lydia narrows her eyes. “That was a pretty big gamble, sweetheart.” She lets the pet-name drip with sarcasm. “How did you know they weren’t heading for a different bathroom.”
Malia just shrugs again, clearly unbothered by the lucky escape. Her hair is tousled from where the fabric of Lydia’s skirt rucked up over it, her lips still shining with Lydia’s release.
Lydia really wants to be mad at her, but Malia makes it so damn hard to be.
She does reach out for Malia’s wrist, though, once Malia is on her feet and stepping away. “Forgetting something?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
Malia sighs and gives her a sulky look, before fishing Lydia’s panties out of her pocket and handing them over.
Lydia steps back into them, watching Malia’s pupils dilate for the slow drag of lace sliding up Lydia’s legs. She takes Malia’s hand, squeezing her fingers. “Your turn,” Lydia promises with a smile. “And this time we’re going somewhere we don’t have to worry about being interrupted, so I can take my time.”
Looks like they’ll be paying a visit to Coach’s office, after all. Nice and private there, because Coach Finstock is a man of habit, and Lydia knows he won’t be back until last period.
Still, there was something about the thrill of it, of knowing how close they were to being caught, to the way it just made her come faster, harder. Probably not a good idea to risk it twice in one afternoon, though.
Still, Lydia decides against locking the door to the office behind them. Just for the hell of it.