notes: Inspired by a convo with someone on tumblr. Punk!Allison and Queen Lydia Martin. Also posted on AO3.
Lydia Martin was in charge at Beacon Hills High, with her high heels and red lips, so it was her job to keep tabs on any and all new students that found their way into her halls. Especially when they were girls with slim waists and legs that went on for miles. So her interest in the stunning brunette with dark eyes when she walked through the school's front doors was strictly business.
And really the girl shouldn't have been so attractive, not with that lip ring and dark eyeliner, and the studded vest and combat boots that clearly indicated she could fuck you up and wouldn't feel bad about it. Usually that kind of thing was supposed to make you less attractive, or so Lydia had always thought, seeing as the local punk clique (three kids with greasy hair who only owned clothes from Hot Topic) certainly wasn't made of lookers.
She watched her from her locker, Jackson rambling about lacrosse in her ear while she shuffled her textbooks around and fought the urge to smooth out her skirt. She looked incredible and she knew it, but she did check her lipstick in the small vanity mirror she kept inside her locker door.
"As fascinating as that is Jackson, I have to go to class. Don't want to be late." She gave him a smile that wasn't affectionate and pecked him on the cheek before he could bitch at her about not listening, and then turned on her Louis Vuitton heel to go to English, taking note of where the new girl's locker was before she disappeared around the corner.
Lydia didn't get another look at her until second period when she stood at the front of the class, looking out at her peers with cool indifference while Mr. Harris rattled off an introduction. Her name was Allison Argent and she was from some town further south in the state. And when she'd finally been allowed to take her seat she slid into the chair next to Lydia, giving her a once over before turning her attention back to the front of the room where Mr. Harris had started talking about chemical reactions.
Up close, Lydia could see that she had several rows of ear piercings and her nails were painted black. Her t-shirt said don't touch me on it and the studs on her jean vest only made the message more menacing. Lydia didn't want to like her.
"Are you just going to stare at me all day or are you at least going to introduce yourself?" Allison asked, her voice low enough that Mr. Harris couldn't hear.
Lydia twisted her lips into a smile because she'd been discreet in her observation and there weren't many people who'd be aware of her scrutiny.
"Lydia Martin," she said, looking at the board and jotting down a few notes into her binder. She was still a model student, after all, and she didn't want to miss anything important.
"The head bitch in charge," Allison said, doodling on the edge of her notebook and looking bored.
"That would be me," she replied, forcing down a smirk. She liked how fast news of her dominance spread in this school. She loved that Allison had only been here for an hour and she already knew who Lydia was. That was power.
"You don't look like much to me."
Lydia clenched her teeth together but refused to look back at the girl, instead forcing herself to smile and continue taking notes. She was aware that she was a small person, and while sitting down she could fool someone into thinking that she, indeed, wasn't much. But this girl hadn't seen her walk down the hallway in four inch heels, hadn't yet witnessed the way guys fell around her feet hoping that she might glance at them, and hadn't seen just how far above the rest of the class she was academically.
At least that last one she could demonstrate immediately.
Mr. Harris asked a complicated question about homeostasis and Lydia took the opportunity to rattle off an equally complicated answer, a bored expression on her face. The look was partly for show and partly because chemistry was stupidly easy for her. Her understanding of physical sciences had gone beyond the high school level quite some time ago.
Allison smirked but didn't say anything else, continuing to doodle in her notebook without actually taking any notes. The two didn't say anything for the rest of the class and when the bell rang Lydia made it a point to get up and leave without even a glance, refusing to give Allison any control over the situation. Because almost every new girl that came through Beacon Hills that was even remotely pretty always wanted to fight her for dominance. Lydia had put down plenty of girls who had tried to take the title "Head Bitch" from her and every single one had suffered a miserable defeat.
"The new chick is hot," Jackson said, a few hours later as he sat down at their usual lunch table. Lydia rolled her eyes.
"You know, that's not something you should typically say to your girlfriend."
"Good thing I'm not typical."
"No, you certainly aren't, are you?" she mused, spearing her salad with her fork. She couldn't say she was surprised by her boyfriend's forwardness. Their relationship had always been a battle of wills, a fight for power over one another. Most days she came out on top, even if Jackson had thought he'd won. The thing about getting on your knees for a guy is that they think they're in control and they're too lost riding their high to realize you've slipped a collar around their neck and pulled it tight.
It was then that Allison slipped into the seat next to Jackson and across from Lydia, not even bothering to ask if the seat was saved. She flashed a smile at them and popped open her Snapple.
"This seems like this is the table to sit at," she said, ignoring the fact that Jackson was practically gaping at her.
"That seat belongs to someone else," Lydia said as coolly as possible. She couldn't decide if she was annoyed by the girl's brazenness or admired her for it. It was a fine line that she'd never been on before. Lydia was used to people being afraid of her or pushing their luck until she retaliated. And then they were afraid of her. But Allison clearly wasn't intimidated.
"Looked pretty empty to me," she said with a shrug. Lydia watched her, eyes narrowed, as the girl dug into her food, not concerned by the mental critique she was getting. Jackson was looking between both girls, eyes bugging out of his head.
"Eat your food Jackson," Lydia snapped. "You look like an owl."
He scowled at her before grabbing his lacrosse jacket and leaving the table in a huff. She didn't bother to watch him go.
"He's a bit touchy," Allison said, eyeing Lydia from under a fan of dark lashes.
"He's the co-captain of the lacrosse team," she responded, waving her hand dismissively.
Allison raised a brow at that despite looking completely unimpressed. "Only the best for Miss. Popular," she said, her voice only a little mocking.
"You don't get to the top of the food chain by dating bunny rabbits."
"You are a shark."
Lydia smirked at that. "I prefer lioness."
Allison put her fork down, narrowing her eyes at the redhead and examining her in a way that made Lydia want to fidget. She didn't, of course -Lydia Martin did not fidget.
"What are you doing after school?" Allison asked suddenly and for a moment all Lydia could do was blink at her.
"Why?"
Allison shrugged. "Because I'm the new girl and you clearly want to figure me out. Might as well get it out of the way."
Lydia realized her jaw had dropped and she snapped it shut immediately, annoyed that this girl kept catching her off guard.
"I'll be in the library, studying," she said finally.
"Great, I could use someone to help me catch up on my class work." And with that she got up and left the table, leaving Lydia sitting alone and confused by what had just happened.
She considered skipping her usual library study session and just going home, taking a dip in the pool, maybe calling up one of her wannabe-friends to go shopping. The only reason she didn't was because she had a huge test in a few days and she wasn't willing to let her grade suffer in any way just because of some girl with a lip ring and a superior-than-thou attitude. That's what she was telling herself anyways.
She was in the stacks when Allison found her, looking for a copy of The Great Gatsby in French and humming softly to herself. One minute she was alone, running her fingers over the spines of the books, and the next Allison was there beside her, a bit too close to be considered casual. Lydia took a step back, popping one of her hips and crossing her arms over her chest.
"You're awful sneaky," she said, trying to sound annoyed but failing. Allison smirked at her, the curl of her lips sending a shiver down the redhead's spine. She didn't know what it was about this girl, but she felt off kilter, out of her element.
"Did you bring your work with you?" Lydia asked, desperate to get her footing back. She wasn't in control and she didn't like it. Control was her middle name, her calling card, her-
Suddenly Allison's face was only an inch from her own and she was staring straight into the girl's dark brown eyes.
"You're really hot when you're flustered," she said, her voice low. Her words sent a strange tingle down Lydia's spine and she couldn't help but drop her eyes to the other girl's mouth. She wondered what kissing someone with a lip ring was like and she found that she wanted very much to take the metal between her teeth, tug on it until the girl's mouth opened up to her. She was confused, she'd never been attracted to another girl before, didn't know how this was supposed to work. She was so completely out of her depth.
But Allison wasn't and she seemed to know exactly what the redhead wanted. She leaned down and pressed their lips together and after a stiff few seconds Lydia let out a small sigh and yielded to her. Kissing a girl was… different. Allison's lips were demanding but soft and Lydia found herself wanting more. She ran her tongue across the girl's lower lip and then bit the tantalizing lip ring, yanking on it lightly so that Allison let out a quiet moan and opened her mouth wider. Their kiss became a clash of lips and teeth and tongue and it was the best kiss that Lydia had ever had. Much better than anything between her and Jackson.
When they came up for air she wasn't sure if it had been minutes or an hour. They were both flushed and breathing a bit heavy, eyes locked.
"We should probably go study," Allison said, reaching out and brushing Lydia's hip with her fingers. It sent a jolt through her and she leaned into the touch automatically.
"Yeah," she replied, wetting her lips with her tongue. "Want to come to my place afterwards?"
Allison ran her fingers across the sensitive skin above the waist of her skirt and grinned. "Yeah, I'd like that."
If you're reading my Moon Fever fic I promise I am working on the next chapter. Thanks for reading! x