Chapter Text
“God! Damn! It!” Veronica yelled into the empty mattress. Of course, he wasn’t home. After all the panicking she’d done, her one reprieve had to be out of the house. Just her luck - a perfect way to end a perfect night.
Every fantasy she’d thought up as she’d gotten closer and closer to his house was now all for nothing. She’d wracked her memory for where she’d figured his address out to be, all for nothing. She’d climbed that damn tree and given herself a splinter for nothing. She’d broken his window lock for nothing. All she had to show for herself from her efforts tonight was a total lack of friends, and the knowledge that she broke into a house for what amounted to no reason. Great.
Amidst the pondering of her woes, a brief moment of clarity slipped past her drunken state and hit her. Maybe she’d gotten the address wrong. Maybe she’d still have her chance. However, when she slipped down the damned tree again and looked at the front of the house, she could only swear in frustration, the word spilling into the quiet, empty air loudly. She didn’t care if it woke anyone up - why should she, when either way she’d be dead by Monday?
And worst of all, she was still going to die a virgin.
As she dragged her way home though, she thought that maybe, just maybe, having her first time be with a guy she barely even knew wasn’t such a good idea after all. She’d imagined the situation of how it might play out a million times over, and never once had it occurred to her that “drunk one night stand with an almost-stranger after losing your whole social life” was in the cards. Maybe a long-term boyfriend, or her wedding night, or if she was particularly unlucky then maybe with a good friend who took pity on her in a couple of decades’ time. Never once had she thought herself the type to try… whatever this attempt had been.
Still, if her life was over by Monday, it would’ve been worth it to have sex first. She didn’t think she’d try to go for JD again after this. Not because he’d care about the drop in her social standing, he didn’t seem like he’d mind that. Not because she wasn’t attracted to him, because hoo boy was he hot. Not because she thinks it would be bad, because while she was drunk she knows she’d love to have him under her. No, it wouldn’t happen because him being away tonight had left her alone, and she wasn’t going to give him a second chance. Even if he’d never know that he’d had a first.
‘Well, look how it turned out, anyway,’ she lamented, scuffing her shoes across the pavement as she walked, swaying just enough to nearly trip every few seconds.
When she got back to her own house and stood before the front door did she remember that she’d told her parents she’d be staying at Heather’s tonight. Chandler, that is. God, she was drunk enough that she had to remind herself which Heather she was talking about? Great. She shoved her face down into her hands and groaned softly before forcing her head back up to look for a solution, and realised that JD’s garden wasn’t the only one with a makeshift ladder still connected to its natural roots.
She’d never once sneaked out, or in, before. She’d never wanted to until recently, never had to until tonight. At least if nothing else, she was getting some of the normal teenager experience, right? Ha. What a lame thrill she’d ended up reaching. What a memorable high for such a wild night.
‘Fuck Parties, especially ones by Kurt and Ram,’ she thought bitterly. Partially because of the way everyone had planned to treat Martha. Partially because of the way she’d only been invited because of Heather, Heather and Heather. Partially because it had been one of the best nights of her life, and it’d been ruined, and she wasn’t going to get to have a second go at one now.
Climbing a tree was at least easier the second time, even if being drunk didn’t make it actually easy at all. She was glad she’d left her own window unlocked before going out. If she’d had to break another lock tonight she might have ended up getting a taste for it, taken up a career as a home invader. Still, she’d not have had to do any more climbing or breaking in if a certain someone hadn’t- ugh!
‘Fuck JD for not being home,’ she thought, angry that in her time of greatest emotional and physical need he’d abandoned her. Maybe it was unfair of her, but she didn’t care in that moment. She was angry, she was upset, she was horny, and he’d not been where she’d wanted him. Give her a damn break.
She didn’t bother getting changed, simply kicked off her shoes, wandered around with only the moonlight for guidance, and landed face first in her sheets. She turned her face to the side, moving nothing else, and let out a deep, heavy sigh.
‘And fuck, fuck, fuck you, Heather Chandler,’ Veronica thought, remembering the look of fury on Heather’s face as she’d turned to leave. She’d barely heard what she’d said, too focused on her expression. Maybe she should’ve said something back, said “fuck you” to her face. It felt good to think it, though, even if she’d missed her chance to actually do it to with her alcoholic confidence boost, a chance she’d never get back. Veronica was never drinking again, she decided, and finally, gratefully, she was asleep.
——————D&B——————
“And she didn’t even say anything back! How dare she?” Heather yelled, and the shorter girl next to her flinched. Maybe it was the volume, or the tone, or the fact she’d hit the seat in front of her.
“But isn’t that a good thing? You must’ve got to her, right?” MacNamara said, her optimism as endearing and annoying as ever. Trust her to look for the bright side when the whole situation was nothing but a disaster. She was lucky it actually helped sometimes. Not tonight, though.
“She always responds! Always!” Heather insisted, “Something witty and clever and spiteful! It’s like her fire had just- just gone!”
“I guess…” MacNamara replied, sounding unsure what to say. God damned pushover.
“Can you keep it down? I can barely see straight right now, I don’t think I got all the drinks out my system,” Duke shouts through the music from the driver’s seat, “And that’s the fifth time you’ve recounted exactly what just happened earlier, Heather. We were there, you know.”
“Shut up and drive, Heather!” She yelled louder, the music barely audible, at least to her.
“Yes Heather, Sorry Heather,” Duke replied hastily, and she didn’t say another word.
“I think you might’ve overdone it a bit, Heather,” MacNamara accused lightly, a hand holding her shoulder to keep her from slipping onto her side across the other seat to her left. It was a testament to the accuracy of the statement that she didn’t argue back.
Heather could admit that she’d overdone it. Not to anyone else, but she could admit it to herself. She wasn’t sure why, but after Veronica left, she’d not been able to spend a moment without a bottle or glass in hand. The stunt she’d pulled had left her furious, a tension wrapped tightly around every inch of her that not even booze could blow off. Thankfully her spare outfit had managed to avoid the second set of vomit she’d experienced that evening, this time her own with it ending up in a toilet, and thus marking MacNamara’s and Duke’s efforts to get her home. Even if she’d fought them about it at first.
Finally, they pulled up to the house, and with one girl under each arm, Heather was practically carried inside rather than walking of her own will. Her parents were away, so she’d at least not have to deal with them tonight or even tomorrow. All she had to do now was get to bed. Dragged up the stairs, along the hall, and into her room, before dumping her unceremoniously upon the mattress. She hadn’t even noticed them strip her of her drink-soaked and stained clothes before she’d been tucked into bed. She was awake long enough for her to hear her friends shut the front door on their way out, and to have one final angry thought about Veronica Fucking Sawyer.
She’d given that girl everything. Status. Money. Gifts. Attention. All of which she’d reserved for the best of the best, so why had she given it to Veronica so quickly, so freely? She remembered back the first thing she’d noticed about her and still couldn’t figure it out. Why would good bone structure make her act so different to Veronica than anyone else? Looking back, she knew she should have never given that greasy little nobody the chance. Looking back, she couldn’t explain why she’d still have made the same choice even knowing what would happen because of it.
‘Who cares?’ She asked herself, shifting under the covers one last time, ‘I’m done with her. Come Monday, I’ll make her life hell. I’ll spend all of tomorrow thinking up every way to humiliate her. Teach her not to ruin my fucking favourite skirt…’
And with that, she was out cold.
——————D&B——————
“Ugh,” Veronica groaned from beneath her covers. Or, rather, inside them. As she tried to roll over she realised she’d tangled herself up in them too much to move freely. Stress-filled sleep sure was active, apparently.
As she extracted herself from her bed, her head pounding harshly, she tried to recall what had happened last night, but it came it waves rather than all at once. With another groan she stood and wandered to her desk, taking the stale water that’d been left there since before they left for the party- the party! The drinks, the drugs, the prank, the argument, oh, no. Oh no, no, no.
Why did she say that? Why did she do that? She had to fix this, or come tomorrow, Heather will kill her. She scrambled to gather her shoes from opposite ends of her room and was out the door, not even having checked the time. As she darted down the stairs and through the front door, she barely paid any mind to her parents, knowing that their ire at being woken up early on a Sunday would be far easier to overcome than Heather’s wrath, something that was surely growing with every hour that passed.
——————D&B——————
When she awoke, it was to the sound of her name being called up the stairs. Who was it now? Couldn’t they tell she didn’t want to see anyone right now?
“It’s Veronica! I’m here to apologise!”
Well, what do you know? Might as well make a start on that then. “Hope you brought kneepads, bitch!” It was a spur of the moment thought, Veronica Sawyer begging on her knees for forgiveness. The idea stuck, though, and she was absolutely going to make it happen. Or was the least she deserved for that behaviour.
She snapped off an order for the first hangover cure that came to mind. Anything would help right now, and she’d especially need it if Veronica decided to make another scene again. The girl in question came quickly up the stairs, opening the door and handing the cup over to her, and Heather took in the sight of her. Hair tangled, makeup a mess, the same clothes from last night. She looked ragged. While Heather thought she’d taught Veronica better than this, she couldn’t help but admit there was something about it that was… nice to look at. She then realised she’d been staring, and noticed Veronica was too, though not at her face. She threw back the glass, swallowed and adjusted her robe, snapping Veronica out of her stupor.
“Passable. Now, you said you were here to apologise?” Heather asked, and Veronica nodded, starting to ramble out excuses and empty words. Her fist tightened in her bedsheet. Did she really think that empty words would make a difference? Did she really think that it’ll be enough to say “sorry Heather, bye,” and leave like it’s all over? No, she deserved a proper apology for the way this ungrateful bitch treated her. She’d make true on her word from earlier.
“On your knees,” Heather demanded, and when Veronica looked surprised, she reiterated, and added, “Grovel. Beg for my forgiveness.”
“You were serious?” Veronica asked, a little disbelieving. She looked like she was going to refuse for a moment, maybe leave. The indignation must hurt, must make her mad. Good. Heather hoped it would.
“Of course I was. You think I was going to let you get away with that?” Heather mocked, and tacked on at the end, “Ah, and you did forget the kneepads. What a shame. Oh well, get to it.”
Again, Veronica hesitated and Heather began to ready herself for a yell, but when Veronica finally obeyed, as she knew she eventually would, a strange feeling spread through her core, and lower. What was wrong with her this morning, all these strange feelings? She shook her head to try to clear it, but the feeling continued, ams only grew heavier when Veronica’s mouth opened and she again said sorry.
But she wasn’t sorry, Heather knew Veronica well enough to know that. She was saying the words, sure, but she didn’t mean them. When it came to stubborn bitches like her, they had to be put in their place. Shown that they’re beneath. She told her to come closer, to apologise again, and she let her legs uncross. Veronica shuffled on her knees into she was right in front of her. Heather leant forward, overtop of her.
“I’m sorry, Heather,” Veronica said again, the fight leaving her voice but still in her eyes. It felt good to see her resistance fading, it was where she was meant to be. But that fire, that pride, it had to go, at least for now. It was then that she noticed Veronica’s face growing redder and redder, and that her eyes kept darting down.
‘Oh,’ she remembered, ‘I wasn’t wearing anything but this, was I?’ She tugged at the robe slightly and Veronica’s eyes darted straight up to Heather’s. There it was again. The feeling of power.
But something was different this time. All the other times she’d get this rush, it was simply a sting of it. Pushing someone in the halls, telling Heather Duke to shut up, getting MacNamara to trick the nerd boys into getting them what they wanted. Now, this time it was intoxicating. Something about the way Veronica’s eyes looked up at her, guilty, submitting, but there was that fire back again that she’d been so mad about losing last night yet desperately wanted to smother. Defiance. She’d hated it in everyone else she’d ever met, so why was it making her skin feel hot right now? Why did she want to take that defiance and break it not to prove a point but for the act of doing it?
Heather didn’t think about what she was thinking or saying. It was all too confusing for her anyway. She didn’t consider what it would mean, what could happen next. She just knew what she wanted to do, what she needed to do. This would show Veronica who was in charge. This would make her listen, make her obey. She stood up and took a step and a half forward, so that her legs were either side of Veronica’s knees. Those beautiful eyes widened as they looked ahead at her naked pussy, right in front of her face.
“Done taking in the view?” She mocked, her tone harsh, “Lick, bitch.”
——————D&B——————
“W-what?” Veronica choked out, unable to comprehend what was happening, “Heather, I-“
“You wanted to apologise? Go ahead. Make it up to me.” Heather said, her words forceful. “You treated me like shit last night. After everything I’ve done for you, those were the thanks I got. You should’ve worshiped me for everything I gave you. So, you’ll worship me now. Lick.”
Maybe it was because her head was still fuzzy and aching. Maybe it was because she’d never felt so cornered. Maybe it was because she just wanted to get this morning over with and was done with fighting. Maybe it was the lingering sexual frustration from her foiled plans the night before. Maybe it was because she’d finally lost her mind, who knows? But for whatever reason, in that moment she did exactly what Heather Chandler asked without any further complaint. She opened her mouth with a wary final glance up and moved her head forward.
A million thoughts were rushing through her head as her tongue moved, but one stood out above all others. It wasn’t the taste, subtle and a little salty. It wasn’t the feel of Heather’s folds on her lips, smooth and clean-shaven. It wasn’t the way she could almost hear her mother’s shriek of despair at finding out Veronica had ever touched a girl like this. It was, instead, the fact that the shaky sigh that left Heather Chandler’s mouth was the single greatest thing she’d ever heard. She needed to hear it again. So, she continued, and her efforts were rewarded with her prize.
She wasn’t sure what she was doing, only what she thought might be right. She mimicked the ways she’d touched herself, the ways she’d wanted others to touch her, but using her tongue was different than her hands. That would have to be enough for Heather, right? The more she tried, the easier it became to begin to lose herself in the actions, to not think it through, to just do it. And the more she did it, the less she believed that she could stop.
When a quiet, gentle moan snuck out from behind the gasps and sighs, Veronica looked up at Heather’s face to find it staring directly down at her. Their eyes were upon each other’s, and Veronica was sure that Heather was feeling just the same as her, stuck. It was like they were magnets, unable to part. Heather’s voice became more frequent and louder the longer they stared. Even blinking felt like it took too long, too much time between seeing that beautiful face looking down at her with so much need.
She wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Heather suddenly pulled away. Probably only a second, even if it felt like longer. Her mind began to become her own again, her brain catching up with her behaviour.
‘Oh my god, did I really just do that?’ She wondered, part ashamed, part afraid, but mostly incredibly aroused, ‘We really just did that? After all that happened last night, I’m- I’m-?’
Her last words to Heather as she left last night come back to her, they echo in her head, “Lick it up, baby.”
The irony in those words wasn’t lost on her. In fact, as she struggled to keep the grin off her face, it took a harsh yank to her hair to bring Veronica back to the present. Heather was laying back on her bed, this time her legs wide open and hanging off the edge. She was gorgeous.
“I didn’t say stop,” Heather said, sounding equally as mad as before. But she didn’t miss the way her breath seemed to be tighter, or the look in her eyes that told Veronica that she wasn’t just ordering for the sake of it, to teach Veronica a lesson - she needed it. Veronica obliged. She felt like she needed it, too.
And again those perfect sounds were back, better than ever. Heather’s hands twisted and pulled at her hair, and while every now and then a tug hurt, it did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. If anything it made it so, so much better. So much better, in fact, that despite the well of shame she was ignoring, she couldn’t help but slip her hand below her skirt.
——————D&B——————
Despite the intense and still-growing pleasure she felt, Heather Chandler was pissed off. Why? Because the best sex of her life had to come from Veronica Fucking Sawyer.
Sure, she’d fucked before. But never like this. With every guy she’d been with, it’d felt wrong - she’d treated it as a tool, something she could use. If she took him deeper and swirled her tongue, he’d obviously agree to finish the assignment for her. If she moved her hips faster, he’d surely take the blame when the teachers came asking too many questions. It was transactional, it got her something she wanted, and that was it. But this? She’d never felt anything like it. Not with her other partners. Not by herself on those nights with an empty house. This was something so much more, and she couldn’t help herself.
From the first touch she’d been surprised. Nobody had ever done this to her before, was this really how it felt? Was this why guys insisted on getting head so often? Then came the second and she was sure that, yes, it was. Her hands moved without thinking and focusing on anything except how good she felt seemed like a waste of time and effort. Before she knew it she’d lost control of her voice, her hands, and was soon about to lose control of her legs. She stepped back for barely a moment before she’d fallen into her bed.
But she’d stopped. Veronica had stopped. How dare she stop, when her tongue felt so fucking good? How dare she give her this, and take it away? If she was going to ruin her for anyone else, she was going to finish what she started. She leant back up and reached for the dark hair still close by and pulled hard, dragging her back between her legs.
“I didn’t say stop,” she demanded, and hoped it didn’t sound like a beg, because she wasn’t begging, because Heather Chandler did not beg. This was supposed to be a punishment for Veronica, supposed to humiliate her, that was the whole reason for any of this, surely. Thankfully before she had to consider it any more, Veronica’s tongue returned and her head became overwhelmed once again. She kept tugging, kept pulling, making it clear she wanted her to keep going, to give her more.
Heather felt Veronica’s hands on her next, gripping her thighs, fingers trailing over them gently while still squeezing, and she was sure she was hearing noise from the other girl too. Noise that grew even louder when one hand disappeared from her thigh and she felt the angle Veronica was eating her out from become higher. The way the noise became sensation was perfect, and she still wanted more, more, more.
She got what she wanted when she felt the movements get faster, shooting sparks through her. It didn’t matter where Veronica touched her right now, just the fact she was touching her was enough. Her tongue glided against her over and over, different angles and patterns Heather couldn’t keep track of, and didn’t care to, as long as they kept coming.
It felt like release and denial all at once, that for every treasured flick and drag she was getting pushed closer and closer to something, inescapable but still too far away. She hadn’t even noticed until then that she was almost yelling. When she finally realised, she tried to make the most of it.
“More!” She said, “I need more!” And somehow, Veronica gave her more, the remaining hand slipping from her thigh to inside her, and the way it thrusted and curled so gently yet so powerfully finally pushed her to whatever it was she’d been reaching. As her eyes once more met Veronica’s, she was flung over the edge.
“Veronica, I’m-! I-! Oh, fuck!” She yelled, tears pricking her vision, and she threw her head back as a scream left her. Her fingers tightened on the hair between them, and she heard a yell not dissimilar to her own, and felt the way it met her.
Her chest heaved as weighty breaths forced their way both into and out of her lungs. Her fingers released, raising her arms behind her head, and she already began to miss the lips on her pussy from the instant they withdrew. Her set of heavy breathing wasn’t the only one in the room, and the sounds melded together like a choir. Perfect for each other, at least to her.
Both of them stayed in silence for a while, neither of them counting the seconds, neither of them knowing what to say. Heather wasn’t sure she even could say anything if she tried.
——————D&B——————
Her face still up against Heather, leaning gently against her thigh, Veronica closed her eyes and simply let herself breathe. She’d just felt the best orgasm in her life, and was now facing the consequences - for example, a pounding headache, and far too much sweat. As she slid her fingers out from her underwear and from under her skirt, she slid to the floor and grimaced at the wet sensation of the carpet against her. She drew her head back. Was this real? She open her eyes and looked around the room, until her eyes returned to the girl in front of her. And Jesus Christ, had Heather always looked so beautiful? Veronica had always knew Heather was hot, pretty, a total babe, or whatever else the boys said about her. But looking at her now was like seeing her for the first time. And sprawled out almost naked, her hair wild and chest rising and falling, Veronica couldn’t look away.
“Heather, I-“ Veronica started, slowly, warily, still breathless no matter how hard she tried to regain herself. What was she even trying to say? She couldn’t get out the words anyway.
“I need a shower,” Heather announced, suddenly standing, her robe falling in her rush to reach her en-suite. Veronica caught her eyes clinging to Heather’s naked form as it trailed away from her into the bathroom, the door slamming and locking with an audible click.
As the water turned on, the speed of the spray seemed to match her thoughts. Everything was too much. Did they really just do this? What even was “this”? How did it go this far so quickly, and why even start in the first place? And why was she still thinking about Heather’s body? Then the shame that her list had buried began to rear its head, and as more and more thoughts began piling on, she just couldn’t stay. To hell with whatever other humiliating things Heather would demand of her next, to hell with whatever punishment she’d face at school tomorrow for leaving, she just couldn’t stay.
She climbed to sore, shaky legs, ignoring the way the drenched fabric between them rubbed as she walked. She had her shoes on as soon as she reached the door and left the house without looking back, heading straight home and back to bed to forget this whole thing ever happened.
——————D&B——————
The warm water hammering over her skin from head to toe helped soothe her, just a little. At least, while she was under it, it did. She had no idea if it would last when she got out and had to think about everything that had just happened.
She hadn’t meant for it to go that far, but as soon as it had started, Heather just couldn’t stop. And from how enthusiastic Veronica’s mouth and hands had seemed, she thought the other girl might have felt the same way. But still, she just couldn’t understand why. What was so special about Veronica that she’d been so unable to stop, what was so special about Veronica that she’d even consider making her do that in the first place? Nobody had ever touched her like that - sure, she’d made guys use their hands once or twice to try to get something for herself out of the experience, but it’s never been anything special, worse than what she’d managed to give to herself. So why had Veronica sawyer, the greasy little nobody, been able to make her cum for the first time?
They were going to have to talk about it eventually. Hell, Veronica was still waiting in Heather’s bedroom with her face soaked. So, might as well rip the conversation off quick, get it done with and try to save face somewhat. Make it out that she’d just been using the chance to really hammer home that Veronica has to listen to her - she didn’t have her first orgasm at all, what, are you stupid? That would be terribly embarrassing, and Heather Chandler has never had a single reason to be embarrassed in her life. She would come out on top. She always did.
But as she’s turned off the water, dried herself and wrapped her towels around her body and hair, she was met with disappointment. Veronica was gone, and the conversation had to wait another day. Damn it.