Chapter Text
Veronica fucked up. Big time. Vomiting all over the devil of Westerburg high was worse than committing suicide, since at least then people would feign sympathy at her funeral. But no one would care now. The life of high school for her would now be composed of relentless social torture and exile, perhaps even worse than before she had joined the Heathers. Her mind scrambled for solutions (most of which were irrational): Moving to Seattle, changing her name, getting into IVY, graduating early. Unfortunately for Veronica, most of those required a drivers license, intelligence, and more consciousness than the wasted teen could afford. The only option left: Give up what little dignity she had and grovel before Lucifer herself.
Late nights in Heather chandlers house were spent meticulously curating her face with her signature thirteen step skin care routine in order to keep up appearances. Even if she woke up after a seven hour party that lasted till dawn, she would still look like a Renaissance painting the next day. She had just changed into her robe when she heard something at her window. Instinctively, she walked toward it, looking for whatever rodent had tried to claw into her room. However, peering through her curtains, she found a very different pest. Veronica. Fucking. Sawyer. The same bitch who had defiled her new pairs of shoes. The one who had dared to stand tell her, the all powerful tyrant of Westerburg, to “lick. It. Up.” Had Heather been anymore sober, she would’ve chucked her nearest sharp object directly at the Whore’s head, but feeling lenient (or just too drunk to formulate any sort of revenge), she let the trespassing former-Heather in.
Piercing eyes like sharpened obsidian met Veronica’s, inspecting her more thoroughly than the secret service “What the fuck are you doing here?” Heather scowled, without a single hint friendliness, confirming Veronica’s theory that she was, in fact, dead to Chandler. Veronica pathetically crawled across the floor, ending up right at Heathers feet. Looking up, she saw the robed ruler of junior year, still just as vicious (and sexy) as ever. “Well, are you gonna say something? Beg for forgiveness? Or are you gonna spout more defiant bullshit” Heather said, clearly getting impatient. Veronica stood, stumbling a little. Whatever the result of tonight, she didn’t have much to lose. If she was a dead girl walking into the demon queens fortress, she may as well gain back her trust. With confidence only found in 2 shots of shitty tequila, Veronica started to speak. “Look Heather, we both know what I did earlier was…well, retarded, but it was just a drunk mistake. I’m sorry about the shoes but I swear I’ll make it up to you” Veronica said, with slurred words and clear desperation. Veronica found it sincere. Heather found it delightfully pathetic.
Heather’s precise lips curled into her signature shit eating half smirk. “Well, normally I’d slap the shit out of you and push you out the window, but I’m feeling kind. So, I’ll let you make it up to me”, she said, resting on the edge of her bed with crossed legs. Veronica spoke up again, “so, what do I need to do?” Heather smiled again, an innocent look for such a malicious person- no, deity. “Well? Didn’t I tell you earlier. Get on your knees, and grovel. And if I’m satisfied with your apology, I’ll consider offering you my forgiveness.” Veronica mentally rolled her eyes, of course she wasn’t gonna be straight forward about this, she’s Heather fucking Chandler for gods sake. Veronica (reluctantly) got on her knees in front of Heather, and started a weak apology, which the blonde quite didn’t appreciate. “Aw, I think you can do better than that. Your work on my English assignments always get A’s, why not put that proficiency to work?” At this point, Veronica was tired, drunk, and vigorously pissed off. She stood up fully and pinned Heather down, shocking the other girl. “Know what Heather? You don’t deserve an apology, or my English skills. Cause you’re a fucking bitch who’ll never work a day in her life or ever form a single meaningful relationship, and sometimes I pity you” Veronica said, with scathing anger fueled by weeks of taunting comments from her former friends. Heather, who was caught under the girl on her queen sized bed, was left stunned. The NERVE of that bitch! The two held their respective gaze, neither refusing to let go until the other cracked.
This went on for what felt like an eternity until Veronica spoke up “I-i don’t know what came over-“ “Save it bitch. If you ever want to talk to me again, you’ll do as I say” Heather said, her voice akin to grinded metal. Veronica swallowed and then nodded slowly, like a person trying to back away slowly from a grizzly. Though at least the worst a bear could do was kill. No, Heather could make her believe death was a sweet release from hell. “Firstly, get the fuck off my bed.” Heather commanded in a tone not unsuitable for drill sergeant. Veronica complied and stood awkwardly. “Second, get on your knees” Veronica complied once more, her knees buckling and fumbling as she tried to kneel.
Heather hadn’t quite thought out her third command, but she knew it had to be very. Nothing short of a resurrection of Jesus would make her want to keep Veronica now. No, she would have to perform the most downgrading, disgusting, vile act possible to gain back Heathers trust. Heather thought slowly, and noticed her situation. A sweet, (probably) virgin girl with an impeccable jaw line and killer looks (that she had engineered), on her knees waiting for any command Heather gave. Why If she were a boy, Heather would have just exploded right then and there. Then, it hit her. The most desperate, despicable, trust building act a human can possibly have. Something that if performed between the two girls would create an unbreakable pact; that would provide them an early grave were anyone to find out. “Third, miss sweet, innocent sawyer” Heather said, dragging her voice just right, edging seduction. “You’re going to gain my trust back by doing just one little thing” she continued, leaning down and tilting Veronica’s head upwards until the two were sharing eye contact far too intimate than either would care to admit. “Y-yes Heather. Anything” Veronica spewed, not daring to avert Heathers eyes or challenge a single notion, which confirmed what Heather always knew. Anything is yours when you trample others.
Heather continued her gaze a dreadfully long while, before gripping Veronica’s wrists to behind her head and pushing her against her bed frame. With a grin surely acquired from the devil, she said with a sickly sweet voice. “You’re going to fuck me , Sawyer”