A capute ad calcem [1/1]
Title: A capute ad calcem
Pairing: Lydia/Erica
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I mishap leads Erica and Lydia to switch bodies.
Notes: Title is Latin for ‘from head to heel’ for stop_drop_howl
“It’s a lot like cooking.” Stiles declared, “I am the love child of Gordon Ramsay and Harry Potter.”
Scott laughed, pretended to look contrite when Deaton gave him a sharp look, it didn’t last, he started laughing almost instantly afterwards all but choking on his snickers.
“Please focus or you’re going to mess this up again.” Deaton said with a huff and the faint traces of a fond smile.
“No faith. Everyone has no faith in me.” Stiles sighed, reaching for some wolf’s bane to sprinkle lightly on top. Put in the over and glaze for 30 minutes. Whatever.
--
Something-something about a haunted caravan, gypsies etc. Erica didn’t give a shit, they made Derek antsy, he said bite and she bit.
Erica, tipped her head back and howled. From the other side of the compound Derek answered for him and Jackson, flagging his position, Isaac and Boyd to the other. Scott’s answer for his band of men-in-tights was a beat off, (enough to irritate her for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on) Scott answered.
That was the all-charge-forward, less of a cohesive plan as a ‘punch it until it listens to me’ (and why Boyd never wanted to leave Derek in charge of planning.) That was fine by her.
Erica let the change come over her, pushing away all the weak things in her mind and focusing on the predatory instinct that welled up and surged from her core. Running on all fours she leapt up to a high window and crashed through it, curling into a ball letting the thickness of her jacket absorb most of the impact.
It also meant she hit the ground at a roll, tumbling across the rough concrete, and stuck her legs out to stop herself coming up on her heeled boots in one long graceful movement that she could only hope looked half as bad-ass as it felt. The nearest dirty gypsy attacked her with a wicked curved knife and a girlish high pitched shriek. Erica smiled around the distortion of her teeth and leapt on him.
After that it was mostly reactive, it was hard to really focus on memories from when the wolf was excited. Not as much conscious thought as reaction. Snarling and twisting in the air as she leapt over something to dodge the whiz and bang of bullets. Around the warehouse she could hear the shouts and cries of others, instinctively knew that it was her pack hunting.
They worked their way towards the centre of the building, herding the prey into the trap.
Erica didn’t really notice Stiles. Not pack. Not prey. Not really important right now.
“Abra Kadabra bitches.” Stiles shouted. Whatever he threw went up in a fine mist that made her sneeze three times in rapid succession.
“Fuck.” Erica snarled rubbing at her eyes and probably making a complete mess of her make-up.
“Shit, sorry Erica.” Stiles squeaked, even without her eyes she could hear his sneakers hit the floor as he hightailed it. He’d better run fast because when she caught him she was going to slit him belly to chin and make pretty bows out of his intestines.
Once the sneezing died down Erica noticed that everything smelled different, not only the painfully overpowering smell of herbs, but that dark oily smell was gone from the gypsy. She kicked the downed gypsy gently and he rolled over clutching at his ribs, no longer possessed.
She was still going to kill Stiles until he was dead.
All said and done, Erica went home and was trying to wash the sticky powder out of her hair and cursing Stiles using every word she knew.
Falling exhausted onto her bed Erica pulled the covers over her head and wished abstractly that she could have lived a simple life. No seizures, no werewolves, no irritating boys playing with the occult. Something out of Gossip Girl maybe.
--
Lydia woke up in what looked like a doll’s room. Everything was delicate and pink, like frosted cupcakes.
She blinked rapidly, pushed her face into the pillow, scrunched her eyes up, counted to ten. Open again. Still in land of the living dolls. She could deal with this. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she had ever woken up to, there was no blood in sight. All the doctors called it sleep walking, and there was no way she was going to explain that she’d been whammied by a werewolf ghost. So, history of sleep walking.
Lydia delicately put her feet on the floor and stood up.
Something that smelled a lot like bacon made her stomach growl and whine.
That was when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. “Oh. Hell no.” Lydia hissed at Erica’s reflection.
She touched her face watched the reflection do the same thing, even felt the soft elasticity of skin without really processing it. Outside a car went by, she could hear a light catch in the engine as if it were right next to her. Needed an oil change badly. She managed to put off the panic attack through sheer force of will.
It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to her. No that was being seen at the prom with Stiles of all people. She could deal with this.
Getting dressed was almost like a game.
Erica’s closet looked like a fetish club had exploded all over a rock-a-billy and the whole thing was going through a goth phase. Most of it was thrown on the floor as soon as she pulled it out. Even if she was cursed to be Erica today she was not stepping foot outside in that. Not if she could help it.
Eventually she settled on a low-cut sweater and a pair of tight jeans.
The best way to tackle a problem was to break it down until you could see how all the pieces worked together. Solve each part individually. Dressed. She poked around the bathroom until she found a likely looking toothbrush behind the mirror. Which was still way to disconcerting to look at for long periods of time. Irritated with herself for avoiding looking herself in the eye, after the whole Peter thing she’d trained herself to stare into mirrors again. She refused to be afraid of something so stupid.
Erica’s hair was ridiculous. It was even thicker than it looked, going every which way.
Carefully Lydia braided it until it was mostly out of her face. A quick dig through the pink make-up bag showed nothing but black, black and more black.
With a frown she put on a little make-up, just enough to look tasteful. The girl that looked back at her looked a lot like Erica but leagues more classy. In fact Erica should thank her for showing the world what she could really look like.
The smell of bacon was nearly overwhelming by this point. It made her skin itch, like a bust of gritty adrenaline. She followed it down stairs.
“Hey princess, you look nice today.” An unfamiliar man smiled at her. Lydia didn’t pause, just shook her long blond hair over her shoulder in a flick she had seen Erica do and smiled back.
“Morning.”
--
Erica woke up being strangled to death by a sea of violent red hair. Everything felt wrong from her toes to the darkness behind her eyes. She couldn’t smell what Mom was making for breakfast or the cars outside her window. She figured something was wrong before she figured out she was Lydia.
She wondered if this was what being a real girl was like.
Lydia’s room was tasteful, like something you saw on a show room in a furniture store. She even slept in something lacy and delicate. Erica plucked at the strap. Lydia had freckles on her shoulders.
--
“Erica.” Lydia paused at familiar voice, watched Isaac’s face do something complicated. He looked confused, smile melting and turning into a little frown. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and carefully looked at the floor between them. “Is something wrong?” He asked at last. She was sitting on the front steps of the school watching all the students filter in and looking for herself.
Her reputation couldn’t handle whatever trashy number Erica would chose to dress her in. Crazy she could handle, she’d rather not join the tramp club too. So she wasn’t going to let her get that far.
“Why do you ask that?” Erica’s parents had seen anything odd at all. Then again, their daughter had gone from sweats and messy buns to hot mess in the bat of an eye. It was possible they were just used to this kind of thing by now.
“You smell, off.” He said at last, hesitating of the word curiously.
Lydia realized that as they were standing here talking all of her senses were focusing on him. That weird pulsing she could hear was his heart beat. He smelled a bit like mould and peanut-butter and whatever he put in his hair to make it stay like that. She sniffed, trying to get the scent out of her nose and ending up with more of it instead.
“What do you know?” Lydia snapped, disconcerted. He shrugged, loose and unconcerned. Still he settled in next to her, frowning but not leaving. Lydia grit her teeth and tried to ignore him.
Erica had brushed out her hair but left it loose and it fluttered in the morning breeze. At least her top wasn’t sheer. The hooker lipstick was a bit much for Lydia’s pale skin.
“Give me my phone, we’re calling a meeting and getting this sorted out right now.” Lydia called out to her.
“What about school?” Erica asked, that smirk looked all wrong on her face. Ignoring everything else that was wrong with this.
“I am not letting you in there dressed as me.” Lydia hissed. Something was growling low in her belly, snarling and angry, vicious and possessive of something she couldn’t name. It was choking her so she swallowed hard and dug her nails into her palms, surprised at the sharp bite of claws.
“What, I’m pretty now.” She put her hands under Lydia’s boobs and shoved them up a little in the dress she was wearing. “Did you know these were mostly fake?” She asked Isaac, batting her lashes. The eyeliner was too thick.
Isaac didn’t seem remotely phased by this, just giving her that low dangerous smirk that was all at odds with his huge eyes and soft hair. “You don’t seem surprised.” Lydia asked him as she typed a quick message for Allison to grab the boys and meet her behind the bleachers as soon as she could.
“I knew something was wrong, Erica is pack. You’re not.” Ouch, that almost hurt.
“Morning Lydia.” Stiles rushed up with his usual puppy routine, trying so hard to be cool it would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.
Only Erica gave him a low smile and waved back, wiggling her fingers. Stiles tripped over his feet to a stop. “When did this turn into invasion of the body snatchers?” He looked around desperately.
“Last night.” Lydia stood up, glaring at Stiles.
“No reason to be hostile.” Erica purred, smirk pulling at Lydia’s mouth like it belonged there, like she was the kind of girl who did something like that.
“No really.” Stiles said, looking back and forth between them wildly. “I’m a little worried here.”
“Shut up.” Lydia hissed.
--
“At least you got a good deal.” Lydia said. All of the Hale pack had come in at some point, sniffed her and found her wanting before retreating to their own little corner of sulk. It felt enough like rejection to rub her the wrong way. If anything she was a better Erica. “I’m stuck looking like this.”
“You’re not wearing it right.” Erica replied breezily.
“I look good in everything.” Lydia snapped back.
--
Erica was disconcerted to find that girls were every bit as mean to Lydia as they had been eager to ignore Erica.
--
The sounds and smells were driving Lydia insane. Jackson was ignoring her.
--
Erica was slowly going mad, even if she was standing next to Boyd she couldn’t feel him, look at Derek and saw only the man and not the wolf. It was lonely. Jackson avoided her.
--
Erica had been sleeping in Lydia’s guest room while her Mom was out of town. Their first fight had resulted in doing each other’s make-up in the morning before being allowed to leave the house.
She was painting Lydia’s lips a deep blood red just because she liked the way that Lydia would glare at her. It did give her a good appreciation for the way her jeans hugged her own ass. There was only so much twisting in mirrors that could be done. This was the full 360 experience.
“I’m hot.” She said with a little thrill that hadn’t gone away in the face of her transformation.
Lydia scoffed in her throat.
“You’re me.” Lydia sighed. She ran a hand through Erica’s hair, fingers catching in a tangle and working it out absently.
“I mean, you’re hot. You as me.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, pursing her mouth, a careful gesture that didn’t smudge her make-up.
“Could have been worse.” Lydia finally said.
--
Two weeks. They couldn’t figure out what had switched them or how to switch them back. Lydia had learned a lot of things she didn’t want to.
Erica was a natural blond.
Apples tasted different.
She couldn’t drink two Venti lattes without getting the shakes. (‘I couldn’t drink a lot of caffeine, before.’)
The full moon meant cages and S&M torture porn. She didn’t remember the actual event just Derek’s scowl.
She was creepily aware of Derek at almost all times.
Erica had no friends outside of the other werewolves.
Erica’s parents loved her in a way that made Lydia uncomfortable.
“I hate this.” Lydia sighed. She was lying in her own bed. Eyes closed and still too aware of Erica prowling around the room, the sound of her footfalls and the easy rhythm of her breathing.
“Imagine if you switched with Stiles.” Erica said. “What do you think he’d do in your body?”
Lydia snorted. “It’d be like nirvana.” She waved a hand in the air to encompass all of: ‘her’.
“I always wondered what he saw in you.” Erica sighed.
“Are we doing this now? Boy talk? I’d rather not.” Lydia rolled the other way, so her back was to Erica. For once Erica didn’t push it.
--
Erica found out that Lydia was nothing and everything like she’d always imagined. She couldn’t figure out a way to explain this to Lydia. It probably didn’t matter anyways. The longer they cohabited (space, bodies, all the same thing really) the more she was realizing just how much of it was an illusion.
Lydia was like a switch blade, terrifyingly sharp. Perfect hair, make-up, everything was just a tool to Lydia. There was a tiny part of here that was almost knee-weak with relief that Lydia would never be a werewolf because she would be terrifying and Erica wondered if she would have been able to resist it.
“There’s a test coming up.” Lydia was sitting at her desk with a book that looked thick enough to kill someone with. “I never do worse than ninety-five percent.”
Erica arched an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“Oh?” Lydia looked at her over the edge of her book. Erica just wasn’t that good at school. She’d been an outcast more content to devote all the time she had on reading romance novels and watching shit reality tv.
“You’re like, scary smart.” She said with a sigh.
Lydia gave her a curving little superior smile that didn’t look at all out of place on her own face.
--
It just happened. Lydia didn’t stop it, didn’t think she encouraged it, but didn’t do anything to stop it. Erica kissed clumsily, like she’d seen it on tv but wasn’t quite sure what to do with the real deal.
It seemed pathetically normal for someone like Erica, first time jitters. Lydia tilted her head to the side, letting the slide of their lips turn soft and slick. Erica touched her chin with nails painted pale pink and smiled a little into the kiss. That felt weird, different, Lydia pulled back.
Her own face that close up was a bit odd, but not all that different from leaning close to the mirror to shape her eyebrows actually. She smiled a little, licking the bottom curve of Erica’s lip. It had obviously been a bad idea getting this close to Erica.
Their second kiss was a little better, except where Erica wouldn’t give up and let Lydia lead her, pushing back with more enthusiasm than technique.
They were leaning against the kitchen island, Erica’s chest pushed up against her own as they kissed. Erica’s hands were all over her face, touching softly here and there, while Lydia felt out the shape of her hips. She knew those measurements backwards and forwards almost as well as she knew her own credit card number.
“So this is kind of weird.” Erica breathed against her mouth.
“You started it.” Lydia replied before she could stop the childish comeback.
Erica laughed, “I mean I feel like I should be doing this.” She grabbed at her own chest. Lydia laughed resting more of her weight on Erica.
“Then close your eyes. I for one, want to know exactly what my orgasm face looks like.”
They made it upstairs between kisses. If Erica was nervous at all she was determined not to let it show. Lydia could appreciate that kind of attitude.
Lydia pulled her shirt over her head tossing it on the floor. Running hands down her own stomach, Erica did have a point there was something a bit weird about watching her own boobs bounce like that when Erica took off her bra. She knew what they looked like and felt like.
She knew just how hard to pinch to make them go deliciously tight. Erica gasped, tugging her in close until they toppled onto the bed in a tangle. She lost herself in another messy kiss, pushing her thigh between Erica’s legs and letting her rub against it.
“Clothes.” Erica breathed, staring up at Lydia.
They rolled apart to kick of sweats and yoga pants (it was an inside day) giving Lydia a moment to breath. To remind herself that it was undoubtedly Erica there inside her body, and that this wasn’t exactly how Jackson saw her.
She kissed Erica again, closing her eyes against the fact that her own eyelashes were a pale red. Hard to see unless you were this close.
“Okay. This is totally weird.” She mumbled, kissing down her jaw to lick at the delicate place under her ear. It smelled strongly of shampoo, pressing her face into hair and breathing deeply.
“A bit.” Erica agreed.
That didn’t stop Erica from sliding a hand down the smooth softness of her back, letting it stop only when her fingertips bumped into the elastic of Lydia’s panties.
“Keep going.” Lydia demanded and Erica just bit at her ear in irritation before doing as she was told. She hooked her fingers in the elastic band and tugged it down and over the curve of her ass. Lydia twisted to the side, letting Erica on top so she could finish getting it out of the way pushing them down to her knees and kicking them off the end of the bed with a little wiggle.
Skin against skin was almost overwhelming with the way her senses were expanding. Erica’s heartbeat was quick and terrified and Lydia wanted to pin her down and sink her teeth in. Instead she kissed her hard, sliding a hand down her tummy to tease her nails through pubic hair. Erica sucked a sharp breath in between her teeth.
She dug her nails into Lydia’s ass, pulling her up and squishing her hand between them, while she bit at her chin.
Somewhere in her room her cell-phone went off but she ignored it, wigging until she could spread her legs and push her thigh up against Erica’s damp panties.
“Keep going.” Lydia demanded as Erica bites along her jaw and working her way down her neck. Lydia moaned.
The sound of fabric tearing was loud. “Oh.” Erica laughed. Lydia had torn through the thin arch of the blue panties with her bare hands like something out of a romance novel, and at least they were hers. “Watch the claws at least.” Erica laughed like that was the only part of this that didn’t scare her.
Lydia rolled them onto their sides, coming precariously close to the edge of the bed, scooting closer to Erica to keep from slipping off the edge.
This way they were pressed face to face, sharing breath.
“I think I can do that.” Lydia swallowed the surprised sound Erica made when she rubbed her fingers down, catching them slightly on the bump of her clit. She knew exactly what felt good, light circles right there.
“Oh god.” Erica mumbled against her mouth, breathing hard and scratching at Lydia’s shoulders.
She pushed her hard, fingers sliding easily as she got all wet, teasing just inside for a half a beat before returning to trying to get her off and fast and hard as possible. Erica moaned and scratched, pressing her eyes shut, mouth screwed up into an indefinable shape. She looked wrecked.
It wasn’t an attractive look. Lydia dipped her head until she could mouth at one pink nipple, letting it catch on the sharp side of a tooth.
Erica came with a startled gasp, curling close around Lydia with a low whine. Lydia watched carefully.
Erica was breathing hard and when she kissed with was lazy and slick, tangling her fingers in Lydia’s hair and using it to tug her closer.
She arranged Lydia so that she was lying on her back, and curled between her legs. “I’ve always wanted to try this.” Erica said before she dipped her head and licked at her stomach. Lydia had to close her eyes, because watching was just too much.
Slick and wet, Erica’s tongue pushing at her, licking quick and hard, soft and nothing like fingers. She arched her back and pressed up against Erica’s mouth. When orgasm hit her it was in slow curling waves of pleasure, making her stomach tightened and pull as he groaned finally going limp, pushing Erica away because she was almost painfully sensitive (weird, new, good thing to note.)
They lay tangled at the foot of her bed, the pillows and their clothes were spread around the room haphazardly.
“So.” Erica began. She didn’t seem to be too inclined to move, one hand spread possessively on Lydia’s stomach.
“Experiment concluded, I have a stupid orgasm face.” Lydia laughed. Erica’s nails were five pinpricks on her skin, this close she could smell the anxiety. “We’ll try it in our own bodies next time.”
--
Erica woke up the next morning because it sounded like a car started right next to her head. Sitting up she ran her hands down her own body and grinned with triumph.
“Everything in the right place?” She could hear Lydia talking from downstairs. Not that Lydia could hear her response with her dim human ears, so she found some clothes and slipped them on before coming down to see her.
“It feels nice to be me.” Erica shook out her hair and Lydia gave her a little smirk, everything in its right place.
At school Boyd was the first to come up to her, curling on big hand around her shoulder with a smile. He finally smelled like pack, and an anxiety she hadn’t even noticed uncoiled.
“You didn’t answer your phone last night, we can change you back any time now, but you need to be touching.” Stiles ran up, panting lightly.
Scott was right on his heels, dynamic duo, Scooby Doo and Shaggy, through and through. He stopped look at them and grinned wide and amused. “They did switch back, last night’s practice run worked.”
“Oh.” Stiles looked at them, his eyes jumping to the bite mark on Lydia’s throat, look at Scott, who waggled his eyebrows tellingly. “Oh.” Stiles said again, his eyes were wide as he shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle a whine.
Lydia made a scoffing noise and walked away. Erica just grinned at her departing back and leaned heavily on Boyd’s shoulder.
Pairing: Lydia/Erica
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I mishap leads Erica and Lydia to switch bodies.
Notes: Title is Latin for ‘from head to heel’ for stop_drop_howl
“It’s a lot like cooking.” Stiles declared, “I am the love child of Gordon Ramsay and Harry Potter.”
Scott laughed, pretended to look contrite when Deaton gave him a sharp look, it didn’t last, he started laughing almost instantly afterwards all but choking on his snickers.
“Please focus or you’re going to mess this up again.” Deaton said with a huff and the faint traces of a fond smile.
“No faith. Everyone has no faith in me.” Stiles sighed, reaching for some wolf’s bane to sprinkle lightly on top. Put in the over and glaze for 30 minutes. Whatever.
--
Something-something about a haunted caravan, gypsies etc. Erica didn’t give a shit, they made Derek antsy, he said bite and she bit.
Erica, tipped her head back and howled. From the other side of the compound Derek answered for him and Jackson, flagging his position, Isaac and Boyd to the other. Scott’s answer for his band of men-in-tights was a beat off, (enough to irritate her for a reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on) Scott answered.
That was the all-charge-forward, less of a cohesive plan as a ‘punch it until it listens to me’ (and why Boyd never wanted to leave Derek in charge of planning.) That was fine by her.
Erica let the change come over her, pushing away all the weak things in her mind and focusing on the predatory instinct that welled up and surged from her core. Running on all fours she leapt up to a high window and crashed through it, curling into a ball letting the thickness of her jacket absorb most of the impact.
It also meant she hit the ground at a roll, tumbling across the rough concrete, and stuck her legs out to stop herself coming up on her heeled boots in one long graceful movement that she could only hope looked half as bad-ass as it felt. The nearest dirty gypsy attacked her with a wicked curved knife and a girlish high pitched shriek. Erica smiled around the distortion of her teeth and leapt on him.
After that it was mostly reactive, it was hard to really focus on memories from when the wolf was excited. Not as much conscious thought as reaction. Snarling and twisting in the air as she leapt over something to dodge the whiz and bang of bullets. Around the warehouse she could hear the shouts and cries of others, instinctively knew that it was her pack hunting.
They worked their way towards the centre of the building, herding the prey into the trap.
Erica didn’t really notice Stiles. Not pack. Not prey. Not really important right now.
“Abra Kadabra bitches.” Stiles shouted. Whatever he threw went up in a fine mist that made her sneeze three times in rapid succession.
“Fuck.” Erica snarled rubbing at her eyes and probably making a complete mess of her make-up.
“Shit, sorry Erica.” Stiles squeaked, even without her eyes she could hear his sneakers hit the floor as he hightailed it. He’d better run fast because when she caught him she was going to slit him belly to chin and make pretty bows out of his intestines.
Once the sneezing died down Erica noticed that everything smelled different, not only the painfully overpowering smell of herbs, but that dark oily smell was gone from the gypsy. She kicked the downed gypsy gently and he rolled over clutching at his ribs, no longer possessed.
She was still going to kill Stiles until he was dead.
All said and done, Erica went home and was trying to wash the sticky powder out of her hair and cursing Stiles using every word she knew.
Falling exhausted onto her bed Erica pulled the covers over her head and wished abstractly that she could have lived a simple life. No seizures, no werewolves, no irritating boys playing with the occult. Something out of Gossip Girl maybe.
--
Lydia woke up in what looked like a doll’s room. Everything was delicate and pink, like frosted cupcakes.
She blinked rapidly, pushed her face into the pillow, scrunched her eyes up, counted to ten. Open again. Still in land of the living dolls. She could deal with this. It wasn’t the weirdest thing she had ever woken up to, there was no blood in sight. All the doctors called it sleep walking, and there was no way she was going to explain that she’d been whammied by a werewolf ghost. So, history of sleep walking.
Lydia delicately put her feet on the floor and stood up.
Something that smelled a lot like bacon made her stomach growl and whine.
That was when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. “Oh. Hell no.” Lydia hissed at Erica’s reflection.
She touched her face watched the reflection do the same thing, even felt the soft elasticity of skin without really processing it. Outside a car went by, she could hear a light catch in the engine as if it were right next to her. Needed an oil change badly. She managed to put off the panic attack through sheer force of will.
It wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to her. No that was being seen at the prom with Stiles of all people. She could deal with this.
Getting dressed was almost like a game.
Erica’s closet looked like a fetish club had exploded all over a rock-a-billy and the whole thing was going through a goth phase. Most of it was thrown on the floor as soon as she pulled it out. Even if she was cursed to be Erica today she was not stepping foot outside in that. Not if she could help it.
Eventually she settled on a low-cut sweater and a pair of tight jeans.
The best way to tackle a problem was to break it down until you could see how all the pieces worked together. Solve each part individually. Dressed. She poked around the bathroom until she found a likely looking toothbrush behind the mirror. Which was still way to disconcerting to look at for long periods of time. Irritated with herself for avoiding looking herself in the eye, after the whole Peter thing she’d trained herself to stare into mirrors again. She refused to be afraid of something so stupid.
Erica’s hair was ridiculous. It was even thicker than it looked, going every which way.
Carefully Lydia braided it until it was mostly out of her face. A quick dig through the pink make-up bag showed nothing but black, black and more black.
With a frown she put on a little make-up, just enough to look tasteful. The girl that looked back at her looked a lot like Erica but leagues more classy. In fact Erica should thank her for showing the world what she could really look like.
The smell of bacon was nearly overwhelming by this point. It made her skin itch, like a bust of gritty adrenaline. She followed it down stairs.
“Hey princess, you look nice today.” An unfamiliar man smiled at her. Lydia didn’t pause, just shook her long blond hair over her shoulder in a flick she had seen Erica do and smiled back.
“Morning.”
--
Erica woke up being strangled to death by a sea of violent red hair. Everything felt wrong from her toes to the darkness behind her eyes. She couldn’t smell what Mom was making for breakfast or the cars outside her window. She figured something was wrong before she figured out she was Lydia.
She wondered if this was what being a real girl was like.
Lydia’s room was tasteful, like something you saw on a show room in a furniture store. She even slept in something lacy and delicate. Erica plucked at the strap. Lydia had freckles on her shoulders.
--
“Erica.” Lydia paused at familiar voice, watched Isaac’s face do something complicated. He looked confused, smile melting and turning into a little frown. He stuffed his hands in his pocket and carefully looked at the floor between them. “Is something wrong?” He asked at last. She was sitting on the front steps of the school watching all the students filter in and looking for herself.
Her reputation couldn’t handle whatever trashy number Erica would chose to dress her in. Crazy she could handle, she’d rather not join the tramp club too. So she wasn’t going to let her get that far.
“Why do you ask that?” Erica’s parents had seen anything odd at all. Then again, their daughter had gone from sweats and messy buns to hot mess in the bat of an eye. It was possible they were just used to this kind of thing by now.
“You smell, off.” He said at last, hesitating of the word curiously.
Lydia realized that as they were standing here talking all of her senses were focusing on him. That weird pulsing she could hear was his heart beat. He smelled a bit like mould and peanut-butter and whatever he put in his hair to make it stay like that. She sniffed, trying to get the scent out of her nose and ending up with more of it instead.
“What do you know?” Lydia snapped, disconcerted. He shrugged, loose and unconcerned. Still he settled in next to her, frowning but not leaving. Lydia grit her teeth and tried to ignore him.
Erica had brushed out her hair but left it loose and it fluttered in the morning breeze. At least her top wasn’t sheer. The hooker lipstick was a bit much for Lydia’s pale skin.
“Give me my phone, we’re calling a meeting and getting this sorted out right now.” Lydia called out to her.
“What about school?” Erica asked, that smirk looked all wrong on her face. Ignoring everything else that was wrong with this.
“I am not letting you in there dressed as me.” Lydia hissed. Something was growling low in her belly, snarling and angry, vicious and possessive of something she couldn’t name. It was choking her so she swallowed hard and dug her nails into her palms, surprised at the sharp bite of claws.
“What, I’m pretty now.” She put her hands under Lydia’s boobs and shoved them up a little in the dress she was wearing. “Did you know these were mostly fake?” She asked Isaac, batting her lashes. The eyeliner was too thick.
Isaac didn’t seem remotely phased by this, just giving her that low dangerous smirk that was all at odds with his huge eyes and soft hair. “You don’t seem surprised.” Lydia asked him as she typed a quick message for Allison to grab the boys and meet her behind the bleachers as soon as she could.
“I knew something was wrong, Erica is pack. You’re not.” Ouch, that almost hurt.
“Morning Lydia.” Stiles rushed up with his usual puppy routine, trying so hard to be cool it would be funny if it wasn’t so pathetic.
Only Erica gave him a low smile and waved back, wiggling her fingers. Stiles tripped over his feet to a stop. “When did this turn into invasion of the body snatchers?” He looked around desperately.
“Last night.” Lydia stood up, glaring at Stiles.
“No reason to be hostile.” Erica purred, smirk pulling at Lydia’s mouth like it belonged there, like she was the kind of girl who did something like that.
“No really.” Stiles said, looking back and forth between them wildly. “I’m a little worried here.”
“Shut up.” Lydia hissed.
--
“At least you got a good deal.” Lydia said. All of the Hale pack had come in at some point, sniffed her and found her wanting before retreating to their own little corner of sulk. It felt enough like rejection to rub her the wrong way. If anything she was a better Erica. “I’m stuck looking like this.”
“You’re not wearing it right.” Erica replied breezily.
“I look good in everything.” Lydia snapped back.
--
Erica was disconcerted to find that girls were every bit as mean to Lydia as they had been eager to ignore Erica.
--
The sounds and smells were driving Lydia insane. Jackson was ignoring her.
--
Erica was slowly going mad, even if she was standing next to Boyd she couldn’t feel him, look at Derek and saw only the man and not the wolf. It was lonely. Jackson avoided her.
--
Erica had been sleeping in Lydia’s guest room while her Mom was out of town. Their first fight had resulted in doing each other’s make-up in the morning before being allowed to leave the house.
She was painting Lydia’s lips a deep blood red just because she liked the way that Lydia would glare at her. It did give her a good appreciation for the way her jeans hugged her own ass. There was only so much twisting in mirrors that could be done. This was the full 360 experience.
“I’m hot.” She said with a little thrill that hadn’t gone away in the face of her transformation.
Lydia scoffed in her throat.
“You’re me.” Lydia sighed. She ran a hand through Erica’s hair, fingers catching in a tangle and working it out absently.
“I mean, you’re hot. You as me.”
Lydia rolled her eyes, pursing her mouth, a careful gesture that didn’t smudge her make-up.
“Could have been worse.” Lydia finally said.
--
Two weeks. They couldn’t figure out what had switched them or how to switch them back. Lydia had learned a lot of things she didn’t want to.
Erica was a natural blond.
Apples tasted different.
She couldn’t drink two Venti lattes without getting the shakes. (‘I couldn’t drink a lot of caffeine, before.’)
The full moon meant cages and S&M torture porn. She didn’t remember the actual event just Derek’s scowl.
She was creepily aware of Derek at almost all times.
Erica had no friends outside of the other werewolves.
Erica’s parents loved her in a way that made Lydia uncomfortable.
“I hate this.” Lydia sighed. She was lying in her own bed. Eyes closed and still too aware of Erica prowling around the room, the sound of her footfalls and the easy rhythm of her breathing.
“Imagine if you switched with Stiles.” Erica said. “What do you think he’d do in your body?”
Lydia snorted. “It’d be like nirvana.” She waved a hand in the air to encompass all of: ‘her’.
“I always wondered what he saw in you.” Erica sighed.
“Are we doing this now? Boy talk? I’d rather not.” Lydia rolled the other way, so her back was to Erica. For once Erica didn’t push it.
--
Erica found out that Lydia was nothing and everything like she’d always imagined. She couldn’t figure out a way to explain this to Lydia. It probably didn’t matter anyways. The longer they cohabited (space, bodies, all the same thing really) the more she was realizing just how much of it was an illusion.
Lydia was like a switch blade, terrifyingly sharp. Perfect hair, make-up, everything was just a tool to Lydia. There was a tiny part of here that was almost knee-weak with relief that Lydia would never be a werewolf because she would be terrifying and Erica wondered if she would have been able to resist it.
“There’s a test coming up.” Lydia was sitting at her desk with a book that looked thick enough to kill someone with. “I never do worse than ninety-five percent.”
Erica arched an eyebrow at her. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”
“Oh?” Lydia looked at her over the edge of her book. Erica just wasn’t that good at school. She’d been an outcast more content to devote all the time she had on reading romance novels and watching shit reality tv.
“You’re like, scary smart.” She said with a sigh.
Lydia gave her a curving little superior smile that didn’t look at all out of place on her own face.
--
It just happened. Lydia didn’t stop it, didn’t think she encouraged it, but didn’t do anything to stop it. Erica kissed clumsily, like she’d seen it on tv but wasn’t quite sure what to do with the real deal.
It seemed pathetically normal for someone like Erica, first time jitters. Lydia tilted her head to the side, letting the slide of their lips turn soft and slick. Erica touched her chin with nails painted pale pink and smiled a little into the kiss. That felt weird, different, Lydia pulled back.
Her own face that close up was a bit odd, but not all that different from leaning close to the mirror to shape her eyebrows actually. She smiled a little, licking the bottom curve of Erica’s lip. It had obviously been a bad idea getting this close to Erica.
Their second kiss was a little better, except where Erica wouldn’t give up and let Lydia lead her, pushing back with more enthusiasm than technique.
They were leaning against the kitchen island, Erica’s chest pushed up against her own as they kissed. Erica’s hands were all over her face, touching softly here and there, while Lydia felt out the shape of her hips. She knew those measurements backwards and forwards almost as well as she knew her own credit card number.
“So this is kind of weird.” Erica breathed against her mouth.
“You started it.” Lydia replied before she could stop the childish comeback.
Erica laughed, “I mean I feel like I should be doing this.” She grabbed at her own chest. Lydia laughed resting more of her weight on Erica.
“Then close your eyes. I for one, want to know exactly what my orgasm face looks like.”
They made it upstairs between kisses. If Erica was nervous at all she was determined not to let it show. Lydia could appreciate that kind of attitude.
Lydia pulled her shirt over her head tossing it on the floor. Running hands down her own stomach, Erica did have a point there was something a bit weird about watching her own boobs bounce like that when Erica took off her bra. She knew what they looked like and felt like.
She knew just how hard to pinch to make them go deliciously tight. Erica gasped, tugging her in close until they toppled onto the bed in a tangle. She lost herself in another messy kiss, pushing her thigh between Erica’s legs and letting her rub against it.
“Clothes.” Erica breathed, staring up at Lydia.
They rolled apart to kick of sweats and yoga pants (it was an inside day) giving Lydia a moment to breath. To remind herself that it was undoubtedly Erica there inside her body, and that this wasn’t exactly how Jackson saw her.
She kissed Erica again, closing her eyes against the fact that her own eyelashes were a pale red. Hard to see unless you were this close.
“Okay. This is totally weird.” She mumbled, kissing down her jaw to lick at the delicate place under her ear. It smelled strongly of shampoo, pressing her face into hair and breathing deeply.
“A bit.” Erica agreed.
That didn’t stop Erica from sliding a hand down the smooth softness of her back, letting it stop only when her fingertips bumped into the elastic of Lydia’s panties.
“Keep going.” Lydia demanded and Erica just bit at her ear in irritation before doing as she was told. She hooked her fingers in the elastic band and tugged it down and over the curve of her ass. Lydia twisted to the side, letting Erica on top so she could finish getting it out of the way pushing them down to her knees and kicking them off the end of the bed with a little wiggle.
Skin against skin was almost overwhelming with the way her senses were expanding. Erica’s heartbeat was quick and terrified and Lydia wanted to pin her down and sink her teeth in. Instead she kissed her hard, sliding a hand down her tummy to tease her nails through pubic hair. Erica sucked a sharp breath in between her teeth.
She dug her nails into Lydia’s ass, pulling her up and squishing her hand between them, while she bit at her chin.
Somewhere in her room her cell-phone went off but she ignored it, wigging until she could spread her legs and push her thigh up against Erica’s damp panties.
“Keep going.” Lydia demanded as Erica bites along her jaw and working her way down her neck. Lydia moaned.
The sound of fabric tearing was loud. “Oh.” Erica laughed. Lydia had torn through the thin arch of the blue panties with her bare hands like something out of a romance novel, and at least they were hers. “Watch the claws at least.” Erica laughed like that was the only part of this that didn’t scare her.
Lydia rolled them onto their sides, coming precariously close to the edge of the bed, scooting closer to Erica to keep from slipping off the edge.
This way they were pressed face to face, sharing breath.
“I think I can do that.” Lydia swallowed the surprised sound Erica made when she rubbed her fingers down, catching them slightly on the bump of her clit. She knew exactly what felt good, light circles right there.
“Oh god.” Erica mumbled against her mouth, breathing hard and scratching at Lydia’s shoulders.
She pushed her hard, fingers sliding easily as she got all wet, teasing just inside for a half a beat before returning to trying to get her off and fast and hard as possible. Erica moaned and scratched, pressing her eyes shut, mouth screwed up into an indefinable shape. She looked wrecked.
It wasn’t an attractive look. Lydia dipped her head until she could mouth at one pink nipple, letting it catch on the sharp side of a tooth.
Erica came with a startled gasp, curling close around Lydia with a low whine. Lydia watched carefully.
Erica was breathing hard and when she kissed with was lazy and slick, tangling her fingers in Lydia’s hair and using it to tug her closer.
She arranged Lydia so that she was lying on her back, and curled between her legs. “I’ve always wanted to try this.” Erica said before she dipped her head and licked at her stomach. Lydia had to close her eyes, because watching was just too much.
Slick and wet, Erica’s tongue pushing at her, licking quick and hard, soft and nothing like fingers. She arched her back and pressed up against Erica’s mouth. When orgasm hit her it was in slow curling waves of pleasure, making her stomach tightened and pull as he groaned finally going limp, pushing Erica away because she was almost painfully sensitive (weird, new, good thing to note.)
They lay tangled at the foot of her bed, the pillows and their clothes were spread around the room haphazardly.
“So.” Erica began. She didn’t seem to be too inclined to move, one hand spread possessively on Lydia’s stomach.
“Experiment concluded, I have a stupid orgasm face.” Lydia laughed. Erica’s nails were five pinpricks on her skin, this close she could smell the anxiety. “We’ll try it in our own bodies next time.”
--
Erica woke up the next morning because it sounded like a car started right next to her head. Sitting up she ran her hands down her own body and grinned with triumph.
“Everything in the right place?” She could hear Lydia talking from downstairs. Not that Lydia could hear her response with her dim human ears, so she found some clothes and slipped them on before coming down to see her.
“It feels nice to be me.” Erica shook out her hair and Lydia gave her a little smirk, everything in its right place.
At school Boyd was the first to come up to her, curling on big hand around her shoulder with a smile. He finally smelled like pack, and an anxiety she hadn’t even noticed uncoiled.
“You didn’t answer your phone last night, we can change you back any time now, but you need to be touching.” Stiles ran up, panting lightly.
Scott was right on his heels, dynamic duo, Scooby Doo and Shaggy, through and through. He stopped look at them and grinned wide and amused. “They did switch back, last night’s practice run worked.”
“Oh.” Stiles looked at them, his eyes jumping to the bite mark on Lydia’s throat, look at Scott, who waggled his eyebrows tellingly. “Oh.” Stiles said again, his eyes were wide as he shoved a fist in his mouth to muffle a whine.
Lydia made a scoffing noise and walked away. Erica just grinned at her departing back and leaned heavily on Boyd’s shoulder.