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Girl of a preacher man

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“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Echoes throughout the church.

Heather uses the hand that was previously holding the pew with the knuckle-white intensity to clamp over mouth and the hand in Veronica’s hair just holds even tighter and pulls her closer.

If there is a heaven, this most definitely is it.

She’s doing her own personal preaching, tongue tasting, hands holding hips, it’s a perfect wonder.

--

New people in Sherwood are rare, no one wants to move to a town with more people than jobs and a shitty teen problem.

No really, every single person Veronica knows is some sort of asshole (Martha excluded of course).

So when the picture perfect, slice of apple pie family show up halfway through the July before Senior Year, it’s kind of a big deal. The dad becomes Pastor Henry Chandler, the mom joins every single PTA thing she can get her hands in and their daughter, Heather, becomes the third in their year and the eighth in the entire High School.

She knows all of this because it’s all anyone ever talks about, she’s never ever seen a member of this family, only heard about them through the grapevine, like they’re some myth everyone has interacted with apart from her. Veronica’s mom talks about how lovely the whole family is and how Veronica will join them for Church this Sunday, just to meet the new pastor, then she never has to go to another service again – Veronica only agrees because Martha’s going and somehow convinced her moms to sit next to her family during the service. They’re not even that religious for goodness sake.

And also because maybe, finally, she’ll understand the hype around this family. Maybe the dad is a dick who preaches shitty stuff, maybe he’s lovely, maybe the mom has one of those smiles where it feels like everything you say is wrong, maybe the daughter’s a bitch, maybe she’s cool glass of lemonade on an August day; Veronica doesn’t know.

She doesn’t especially care, but she’s a curious person, and this family is simultaneously everywhere and nowhere in her small, little, social circle.

She doesn’t last until the first Sunday to see one of them.

She first sees Heather Chandler when her, Betty and Martha are waiting for JD outside the gas station opposite the library.

It’s a fucking blister of a day, the sun beating down like it’s the end of the world, the air thick and humid and in need of a Summer storm to calm it. The day feels orange, she can’t quite describe it, but everything is tinted with that colour, could be the fact that it’s midday, pushing 100 degrees, she’s wearing a leather jacket and she’s only had a glass of juice today but she’s never been the best at looking after herself so she ignores it. Her and Betty are sharing a cigarette, Martha staying a sensible distance away so her moms don’t smell the smoke, they’re all waiting for JD to sweet-talk his way into buying some alcohol without getting carded.

And then she comes out of the gas station, blonde hair slightly frizzy at the ends because of the humidity, red-rimmed sunglasses, a lollipop rounding her cheek, an outfit that she wouldn’t expect a preacher’s daughter wearing and an opaque bag that indicates that she also has a silver tongue in terms of buying underage.

It has to be her. There’s been no one new in Sherwood since 2010.

She lifts her glasses and cool blue eyes find Veronica and send a chill down her spine. Veronica takes the cig from Betty and inhales until her head feels fuzzy. And to her surprise, the preacher’s daughter just stares.

Because, here’s the thing, people don’t stare at Veronica.

Between JD’s whole emo grim reaper thing, Betty’s deathhawk and Martha dressing exclusively in neon, no one really looks at Veronica, but here is the new girl in town, staring brazenly at her while she smokes.

She watches as the girl takes the lollipop out of her mouth, her eyes looking at Veronica up and down, an eyebrow raising in what seems like appreciation and Veronica lets out her smoke at their eyes meet again. The lollipop falls back into her mouth and a pair of red, red, lips smile around the sphere and Veronica hasn’t felt as drawn to a person in years. The girl, drops the sunglasses back over her eyes and nods at the group before walking away.

Veronica has never been so excited for church.

--

There still hasn’t been a storm by the time Sunday comes around, but now the sun is covered by a thick cloud of grey that reminds Veronica of her double-duvet she curls up with in the winter.

It doesn’t help that there was an adamant no to air conditioning being added to the church, Veronica remembers that month very well. There was a big debate at the town hall, Flemming even made her do a page about it in the school paper. It had never bothered Veronica before because she only really went to church at Christmas and Easter so it’s barely hot, but it’s like hell right now.

The wood from the pews, because there’s also a ban on cushions too apparently, sticks to her thighs and she can feel sweat gathering at the back of her neck because, like a fool, she chose to wear her hair down and she’s without a hair-tie. Pastor Chandler isn’t awful, a bit drone-y and he has stayed perfectly politically correct as someone from the South preaching in Ohio could be, but it’s not like Veronica has really been paying attention, she’s too busy staring at Heather.

Well, staring is a bit of an exaggeration, she’s been glancing at Heather every few minutes to see if she’s noticed her, she still doesn’t know.

Gone are the daisy dukes and lowcut vest and red-rimmed sunglasses and instead is a perfectly demure dress and hair in a high bun that shows off her neck. Veronica has never quite felt attracted to a neck before, but she’s learning a lot about herself apparently.

She follows everyone else as they stand up and down, chanting amen when everyone else does, drinking the wine and Jesus wafers until it’s time to leave.

This is ridiculous, she probably isn’t even into Veronica, she probably stared at her the first time because she was wearing all black on a day that was scorching and she probably hasn’t looked now because Veronica was staring at her like a creep throughout her Father’s church service.

But that’s when their eyes meet, cool blue against her dark brown and Heather smirks at her. A proper, mischievous, unfairly attractive smirk that Veronica wants to cross the church and either wants to kiss off her face or talk off. She doesn’t even know what her voice sounds like, she wants to though, she wonders if it has that Southern twang that Pastor Chandler has. Her mom clears her throat behind her and she moves, not realizing she had been rooted on the spot by all but two seconds of eye contact with a girl that she hasn’t even met yet.

The sun’s battle with the clouds has come to some fruition, leaving holes in the thick layer of grey from earlier, intermittently shining down onto Sherwood. Normally the Sawyers, well Veronica’s parents, would skip the obligatory meeting in the church parking lot/garden area but not this time, they’re standing in the midday heat, talking with people Veronica hasn’t voluntarily interacted with since Middle School. Thankfully she’s got Martha with her, both of them are leaning against the side of the church, trying to get as much shade as them possibly can.

“What’ya think?” She asks Martha, holding her hair into a fake ponytail and waving her hand against her neck to get some kind of cool against it.

“Of the sermon?” Unlike Veronica, she isn’t absolutely dying from the heat, she’s one of those people who needs an entire bedspread with her in the winter but is perfectly fine on days like this. It’s rude really.

“Of Pastor Chandler.”

“He’s better than Pastor Beck, but duller than Pastor Matthew.”

“How many Pastor’s has Sherwood had?”

“Four in the last three years.”

“Wow, Sherwood is even able to scare of instruments of God. And people wonder why we want to leave.”

Martha lets out a small laugh.

“You don’t even like church, why’d you come?”

“Curiosity.”

“Do you need a hair tie?” A new voice joins them, it’s the preacher’s daughter.

Smooth.

Her voice is smooth, like peanut butter and orange juice and velvet and all sorts of things and Veronica’s brain may or may not short circuit from a girl this pretty from interacting with her. She stands there, innocence painted on her face, eyes devouring Veronica alive it feels like, she just nods dumbly, no words coming to her. Heather lifts her hand, a simple black band around her wrist, she makes no move to remove is from her wrist and looks between Veronica and her hand pointedly until she gets the message.

She pulls the band off Heather’s wrist as slowly as possible without it being weird, making sure her hands and fingers are touching Heather’s. She sees Heather breathe quickly at the motions, eyes practically swallowing Veronica whole, their eyes stay meeting as she pulls her hair into a ponytail, Heather’s throat bobs slightly. Good, this is a two way street. Veronica clears her throat slightly.

“Thanks.”

“See you around.”

And she leaves, Veronica watches her leave as subtly as possible, which means with no subtlety at all. But in her defense, Heather looks over her shoulder and winks at her and, yeah, that’s how she’s going to die, most definitely.

“I think you need to go to confession.” Martha says, a knowing smile gracing her features. It bring Veronica out of her Heather-reverie and back into the present.

“We’re a protestant church Martha.”

“I’ll make them install it just for you.”

Her capacity for sass really has increased ever since JD’s joined the group.

“For having eyes?”

“For eye-screwing the preacher’s daughter.”

“That was foreplay at best.”

“Veronica Sawyer we are outside the house of God.” She mocks, hitting Veronica’s arm lightly.

“And I think I’ll be coming more often.”

--

Cool blue eyes float around Veronica head for days until they meet again.

The heat was finally quenched with a storm on Sunday, leaving a few days on grey and rain, making Veronica meander around her house for a couple of days, letting JD and Betty climb up the side of her house while letting Martha in through the front door and trying to stay quiet enough so her parents don’t hear.

She’s doesn’t know how successful they are, but her parents never give her shit so they keep doing it until they can go back to loitering outside gas stations and 7/11 and old parking garages without the threat of rain.

Martha, the snake, tells the others about what happened between her and Heather outside the church, which JD clarifies is nothing while Betty demands to know when they’re fucking. Which, she’s pretty sure Heather doesn’t even know her name, and she doubts that that’s what she’s thinking about right now, it’d be nice but she doesn’t think so. Thankfully they don’t stay on the topic for too long, there’s only so much teasing a girl can take, and move onto whatever the fuck Betty has going on with Heather Duke.

When it stops raining it isn’t as hot as before, not the same sticky, humid heat, but the sun still beats down on Sherwood and the few days of respite from the sweltering summer soon feel like they were never there.

They run into each other when Veronica is smoking out the back of 7/11, not waiting for anyone or particularly doing anything, just smoking for the fun of it before grabbing a Slurpee and walking around Sherwood until she finds something to do. She’s been wearing the hair-tie around her wrist, just in case they run into each other before Sunday and she has a reason, it’s a stupid reason but it’s one nonetheless, to talk to her.

It hasn’t reached noon just yet, but it’s hot enough, leather jacket gone, only a vest tucked into black jeans, head against the brick, Veronica feels like she’s on fire. Her eyes are shut when she hears a voice.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

Her eyes snap open and finds Heather, red-rimmed glasses atop her head, in a baggy flannel and those same shorts from the first time they saw each other. Somehow she gets hotter every single time they meet. Veronica still hasn’t said anything but makes up for it by taking another drag and gathering herself until she thinks she can speak without tripping over her words or stuttering.

“I know.”

Perfect, now she has to keep it steady until they stop talking.

She can’t believe that it’s taken this long for Veronica to get her shit together in Heather’s presence but at least she has it now so she can’t be too pissed at herself.

“May I?” She steps closer her hand raised to where Veronica’s is.

“I thought you shouldn’t smoke.” But she offers it anyway.

“I know.” She gests, smirking again as she takes it from Veronica’s outstretched hand.

“Mockery is the sincerest form of flattery.”

Heather doesn’t answer because she’s sucking on Veronica’s cigarette while staring right at her and, dear fucking God, she’s on the verge of death.

“D-Do you want your hair-tie back?” She says, hushed, so it doesn’t ruin the moment and Heather’s lips smile around the cigarette before exhaling.

“You’re too kind.”

She takes it off her wrist and presents it to Heather, who just offers her wrist in return.

A simple action shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t set her hand of fire as she rolls the tie down onto her wrist. Veronica takes longer this time, every single of one her motions purposeful. She can’t always speak amazingly but she’s always been good at actions. She sees Heather’s breathing deepen slightly.

“I never got your name.” Heather says, voice as low as Veronica’s, her eyes becoming less cool blue and more black.

“Veronica Sawyer.”

“Heather Chandler.”

“I know.”

She raises her brow, perfectly manicured surprise painted across her features. And that’s when Veronica realizes that she’s pretty much holding Heather’s wrist, she brushes her thumb across Heather’s palm and drops her hand, taking the cigarette from the blonde. Red lipstick, Heather’s red lipstick, is all over the filter and the waxy taste is almost as present at the tobacco.

“You know new people are hot shit around here.”

“I do love attention.”

She plucks it back again.

This is a good game, this is a fun game, it’s a game that gets Veronica hot under the collar and gives her a stomach of warmed coal that’s getting hotter every second.

“Heather, honey?” Pastor Chandler’s voice comes from around the corner and Heather takes one more pull before putting the cigarette in between Veronica’s fingers again and taking a step back. He comes into view and Heather puts on her whole preacher’s daughter thing again.

“And that’s why you shouldn’t smoke.” She says, eyes still staring into Veronica’s soul but with a spark of joy in them that makes Veronica’s face break out into a smile.

“Oh, hello Miss Sawyer.” She somehow rips her gaze from Heather and meets his gaze, she morphs her face into the expression she uses to get out of detention (it turns out parents really like it too).

“Hi Pastor Chandler.”

“You really should be careful with those things.” He says, eyebrows furrowed and shaking his head slightly.

“Don’t worry, Pastor, your daughter has been telling me about all the risks involved.” She gestures to Heather, whose eyes are watering slightly with the effort of holding her breath.

“I’ll meet you by the car daddy, Veronica’s just inviting me out to make some more friends.” Veronica has no idea how she’s able to speak with how long it’s been since she’s breathed, but she does with ease.

“Oh, okay darling, don’t be too long.” Pastor Chandler practically brightens at the words and cheerfully walks back to the car. As soon as he’s out of sight Heather exhales and breathes back in the clean air, a smile on her face.

“You should invite me out sometime.” Heather steps closer, pushing some of Veronica’s

“I don’t have your number, and I don’t know where you live.”

“Sherwood’s a small place, I’m sure you’ll be able to find me.”

She puts one hand on Veronica’s cheek and she prepares herself for a full kiss but instead Heather gives her an almost feather-light one on her cheek.

“I’ll be seeing you.” She whispers in Veronica’s ear and she’s never been happier to be leaning against something in her life because she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out and left her on the floor.

--

They’re day-drinking on the flat roof next to Betty’s window.

Despite Heather’s words, she hasn’t seen her around Sherwood, not a single glance of blonde hair or blue eyes or legs that Veronica should stop thinking about draped over her shoulders.

The lukewarm beers pairs perfectly with the sun that’s not quite setting but still lying low in the sky and the air that clings to everything. JD slaps a bug on his arm and frowns deeply, Betty offers Veronica a cigarette that she gladly takes and lights. They’re all leaning against the small ledge that goes around the side of the roof, finishing at their shoulders and leaving their heads free to roll about. Unfortunately, Martha’s busy actually doing something important with her life, meaning that she’s working at the only bookstore in town, so she’s not joined them on Betty’s roof, which really is a shame, Martha’s always loved the watching the sun set.

“Okay, my weeks officially been shit, what have you guys been up to?” JD asks, wiping the remains of the bug on his jeans and finishing his can of beer.

“I beat Kelly’s team a few days back, I tell you, I’m the best shooting guard East of LA.”

“Arrogance ain’t attractive Betty.” JD teases, kicking her slightly.

“Heather thinks so.” She takes a smug drink from her can and Veronica reaches to push the can so she spills some of it down her front. JD erupts into laughter while Betty tries to get her revenge against Veronica and fails.

“Speaking of, how’s blondie Veronica?”

Oh, this kind of revenge is much worse than trying to pour beer down Veronica’s front.

“I ran into her last week.”

“Oh, do tell.” JD interrupts, leaning forward.

“I was smoking behind the 7/11-“

“Good spot.”

“I know and she comes up, teases me about smoking, takes a drag from my cigarette, like one, drawback and everything. Her dad shows up, then pisses off, then she tells me to invite her out sometime, kisses my cheek then leaves.”

“Dude, you guys have gotta bang.”

“If I knew her number, I’d invite her ‘round, but she’s being all ‘mysterious’.”

“You think it’s hot don’t you.”

Veronica knows she blushing, and that she’s hiding her red cheeks with her beer can poorly.

“Shut up.”

“You get whipped so easily.”

“Have you seen her Betty? Jesus Christ, she’s like, I don’t know, the hottest person I’ve ever seen. Stop laughing, dude, JD help.”

Betty is snorting with laughter, almost doubling over and shaking uncontrollably. She hates her friends so fucking much.

“No, she’s right. And I bet the whole ‘forbidden fruit’ thing helps too.” JD says, opening another can of beer, dodging the offending spray that comes from it.

“The what?”

“Dude, she’s Pastor Chandler’s kid, I doubt he wants anyone sniffing around her daughter, let alone a – what does Flemming call us?”

“Teenage dirtbags.” Betty helpfully supplies, laughter under control and staring into the street below.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’d be too happy. Forbidden fruit.”

“What he doesn’t know, won’t hurt him, I’m sure.” She says but drinks her beer in a couple of swigs and crinkles up her can before throwing it into the growing pile in the corner of the house. She hadn’t really thought that far, all she wanted to do was kiss the girl.

“Speak of the devil and she shall appear.” Betty says, eyebrows wiggling dangerously. Oh no, Veronica knows exactly what that means. She looks over the roof to see Heather walking down the street with another opaque bag.

“Hey preacher girl!” Betty shouts and Veronica watches as she looks around, confused until Betty and JD start waving their arms obnoxiously. Betty turns to Veronica and pulls her up, so Heather sees her. “Ask her.” She whispers to her.

“Why can’t you?”

“Because she asked you to ask her, you literally just told us, oh my God.”

Veronica shakes her head. Betty pinches her.

And because Veronica is nervous and a mess and sweaty and smells like cheap beer she just slaps Betty’s hand away.

“Wanna hang out?”

“I can’t, with the Heathers.”

“Ah, have fun.”

“And Betty? Tell Veronica to ask me next time.”

Okay, that’s embarrassing, and mildly mortifying and shit.

Veronica hopes that the next time they run into each other, Heather doesn’t bring it up.

--

“I’ve invited the Chandler’s around for dinner tonight.”

“I’m helping Betty with her English Summer work.” She lies, she’s actually holding a torch for Betty as she attempts to fix up an old motorbike her dad got her for Christmas while steadily drinking her supply of alcohol. She wants nothing less than to spend an evening with Heather’s parents. But then-

“You should stay, they’re bringing their daughter, she’s the same age as you Veronica.”

She chokes on nothing. Her parents give her a funny look, they don’t know the heavy handed flirting that has been going on between the two girls, they know Veronica’s not exactly straight so at least that’s a win.

“Okay, I’ll tell Betty that I can’t go over.”

Veronica texts her and she just replies with the scissor emoji, see, this is what she means when she says that everyone in Sherwood is a certain degree of asshole.

It takes Veronica embarrassingly long to get ready, trying on all manner of outfits until she goes with her old faithful of a vest and jeans. It’ll be the only time they meet where Veronica isn’t sweating from the heat, she’ll be cool, calm and collected and try not to kiss Heather in front on everyone.

She spends the day moping around, waiting for them, waiting for the opportunity to see her again. Predictably they come on time, and it’s perfect.

Heather’s back in her demure church girl attire but her eyes are, God, her eyes are staring right at Veronica like she’s a free buffet.

“Thank you for inviting us, Ms Sawyer.”

“Please call me Darlene.” Veronica’s Mom says, putting on her best smile and Veronica’s Dad does a far too masculine handshake for how he really is. Pastor Chandler hands them a bottle of wine and makes a communion joke, that gets followed by a Catholic joke and it all flies one ear and out of the other because Heather is right there, in reach but not quite there.

“Why don’t you girls go upstairs, dinner will be ready soon.”

Veronica holds back the roll of her eyes, her parents don’t have to put on this act, they’re completely fine as they are, but nevertheless she smiles at the Chandlers and makes her way upstairs, in her fit of getting ready she also tidied her room a million times so that Heather wouldn’t see the old cigarette packets and gin bottles stashed away in random places. Heather shuts the door by leaning into it, still staring Veronica down.

Neither of them speak, waiting for the other. The tension is so thick it feels like Veronica is breathing in syrup.

“I feel like this is a little unfair.” She finally says, Heather quirks a brow, walking toward her in the middle of the room.

“And why is that?” It’s coy, hooked into the side of her mouth tilting her head as she comes to a stop in front of Veronica. God how she wants to touch, to feel her.

“You know where I live, but I don’t know where you live.”

Veronica takes one of Heather’s hands, reveling in the way that Heather’s breath stutters at the motion.

“Maybe I like my mystery, I think you do too.” She recovers well, squeezing Veronica’s hand slightly, white hot heat burning up her arms and floating across her shoulders.

“I want to see you outside of running into at random intervals.” A feeling of cold overtakes her, was that too much? This game has worked so well so far, but what if that’s all it is, a game. Her fear is quickly sated by how pleased Heather looks.

“Bold.”

“So are you.”

“You didn’t invite me out.”

They’re both too stubborn for a game like this, both expecting and wanting the other to break first.

They move closer to each other, hands wandering bodies, eyes contact barely wavering.

They’re so close.

Heather’s hands have made their way into Veronica’s hair while hers stay steadfast on her hips, she can smell her shampoo and the peppermint on her breath and their lips are brushing and-

“Dinnertime girls!”

Heather lets out a growl in annoyance.

“You should kiss me quicker next time.” She scolds Veronica, only half joking.

“Maybe you should.”

“I could kiss you now but what I want you to do to me will take far too long, and they’ll notice how long we’ve been gone.”

All the air leaves Veronica’s lungs. She leans her head on Heather’s shoulder, sighing.

“God, you can’t say things like that before dinner Heather.”

“Why?” Her voice is hoarse.

“Because I’ll be thinking about doing all sorts of things while talking to your dad. Who is a Pastor.”

“What kind of things?”

Veronica turns her head and leaves one wet kiss on the side of her neck, Heather’s hands grip the back of her arms and small growl leaves her throat. She kisses her softly after, making her way up the her earlobe, God she was right, she is attracted to her neck, because that’s who she is now. She tugs, lightly on Heather’s earlobe and another noise leaves her mouth, fuck she shouldn’t have started this.

“Teasing, mainly.”

“That’s not enough.” Heather says, voice strong, but with an edge of pleading.

“What do you want to know then?”

There’s a moment of pause before Heather finally lets out a:

“Mouth or fingers?”

Veronica makes a strangled noise this time.

“Both, hopefully. Eventually.”

“Fuck.”

“Girls, don’t leave us waiting!”

“We have to go.” Veronica reluctantly says, but she doesn’t move.

“I know.” Heather tugs slightly on the root of her hair and Veronica exhales roughly, she really doesn’t want to have a civilized dinner with her parents and a reverend, shit that sounds like the beginning of a joke.

“You’re so-“

“What?” Heather interrupts her, finally pulling back and Veronica can see barely blue eyes and a slightly pant and a slow, smug smile across her lips.

“I don’t think I’m going to survive tonight without kissing you.” She admits and she looks slightly bashful at the prospect.

“Girls! Come on now, food’s getting cold!”

“Meet me by the church, tomorrow.”

“Wha-“

“You want to fuck me right?”

The boldness of the phrase sets Veronica off kilter but it also sets her alight.

“Yes.”

“Then meet me by the church at one, tomorrow.”

--

Although the proposition is quite clear, she still doesn’t know what to expect when she rolls up to the church the next day.

She asked advice from everyone, who were all useless, JD lets out a ‘fucking finally’, Betty tells her to be safe and Martha just did a whole ‘my kids are all so grown up’ fake crying thing which, admittedly, was hilarious but it’s also meaning that she’s getting closer to not being excluded from the Sherwood assholes list.

Veronica still loves her though.

The sun fries her alive as she walks through town, steadily going through a pattern of smoking and chewing gum so she doesn’t taste like as ashtray, but then she gets nervous so she smokes and then she chews gum again and it’s just a huge circle.

Heather’s leaning against the church when she walks up, red dress contrasting against the white of the church.

“I thought you wouldn’t show.” She snarks.

Veronica checks her phone, she’s perfectly on time.

“I’m on time.”

Heather hugs herself slightly, some insight into vulnerability that she hadn’t shown thus far in their game. She finds herself moving towards her and rubbing her hands over Heather’s in an attempt to be comforting. She doesn’t quite know how well it works but she guesses it’s somewhat successful given how Heather lets out a deep breath and relaxes into Veronica’s grip.

“You okay?”

Heather seems taken aback by the question.

“Of course I’m okay-“

“You just seemed a little stressed for a second there.”

“I just got worried for a second.” Heather admits and Veronica doesn’t care that her body’s been aching for Heather for weeks now, that she’s practically a coil wound so tight it could spring at any second, she only cares that Heather is almost shrinking in front of her.

“Hey we don’t have to do anything if you-“

“Trust me, I want to, just got nervous.”

“You? Nervous?” She attempts to joke, it works by the way Heather looks at her, a small smile making it’s way onto her face.

“You don’t know anything about me.” She teases in return.

“I know you’re not the type to get nervous, you held smoke while talking to your Pastor Dad.”

“Maybe you make me nervous.”

Veronica feels like she’s levitating. Little old her? Making the hottest woman she’s ever interacted with nervous? Jesus Christ.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Heather nods. “You make me nervous too.”

Heather smiles, biting her lip and looking to the floor. Then she looks back up and Veronica is reminded of the first time they saw each other, across the parking lot at the gas station and fire begins to crawl up her spine.

“Wanna go inside?”

“After you.”

Heather opens the massive doors to the church and pushes Veronica’s body against it, causing it to shut – the sound echoing throughout the church. They take a second, staring at each other, checking it’s alright.

Then Heather presses their lips together.

Fucking finally.

It’s like being set on fire and being able to breathe for the first time simultaneously.

Heather’s lips are soft, like clouds, pushing against hers, sliding her mouth open, pushing her tongue inside in the best way possible.

She finds out a lot about Heather as they kiss.

That she doesn’t really like having her hair pulled, that she likes is when she scratches down the back of her neck, when she squeezes her ass, when she bites and pulls at her lip. Heather reads her body like a book in return, gripping at her hips and tugging on her hair and kissing heavily along her neck.

Heather untucks her t-shirt and that’s when Veronica realizes that they’re about to fuck, in a church, she’s never been particularly religious but you never know and she feels like Heather might be even a little bit and she’s pretty sure that there’s something in the Bible about fucking in a church.

“I thought there was a little house attached to this thing, we’re actually doing this in here?”

“Always been a fantasy of mine.” She says, pulling Veronica in for another kiss and makes her forget her train of thought.

“That’s hot. But also, you fantasized about fucking in your Dad’s place of work?”

“We move a lot. Plus, there’s not many other places we can go, my house is busy and I’m guessing yours is too.”

Instead of responding she kisses Heather again, she’s starting to get addicted to the feeling.

Veronica pushes her back. She’s not sure how much longer she can take standing up, they stay intertwined, only separating when Veronica throws her shirt behind her. She expects cold air against her skin, but she’s even hotter with Heather’s hands ghosting across her bare back and front, God it’s everything she’d been wishing for.

Veronica’s in two minds about this.

Half of her wants to take her time and tease, draw it out and make it wonderfully painfully amazing but she also wants to taste, wants to hear Heather’s moans and gasps and that’s the side that ultimately wins.

The maneuver themselves towards the pews, Heather sitting down and Veronica awkwardly kneeling in between her thighs while still kissing her. Their kisses have gotten like the summer, sweltering and molten, desperate for air but they don’t care one bit, panting into each other’s mouths just for a second of kissing, a moment of their lips meeting desperately. Veronica makes her way down Heather’s neck, it’s not the first time she’s done this today but each time draws new sounds from Heather’s throat. She can feel the vibrations against her throat as she opens her mouth down her pulse, pressing against her tongue, fuck it’s beautiful. She pushes the dress down so she can pull a nipple into her mouth, it makes Heather’s legs tighten around Veronica’s middle and a wet gasp come from Heather’s mouth.

It also makes Veronica get even wet, almost soaking, hotter down below than everywhere else on her body, than the sun outside, than every single look they’ve shared, across the road, church, her room. Eventually she presses small kisses across her clothed body, next she’ll appreciate Heather’s body, just like she deserves, giving her the reverence she deserves but Heather needs to come and Veronica needs to taste her.

She gets in between those two perfect legs and looks up to see Heather looking expectantly at her, she palms up those perfect thighs and hooks her fingers around some underwear and pulls them down until they fall onto the cold stone floor.

“Fuck you’re wet.” She says without thinking, Heather lets out a small sigh at the sentence.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the gas station.”

“Fuck.”

“You’re hot Veronica.”

“I know you guys should get AC in here.”

“Will you fuck me already?”

“Impatient much.”

But she’s already moving, kissing up her thighs until she gets to where Heather needs her the most and she moves her tongue from the bottom to her clit, tasting something that seems equivalent to the apple in Eden. She feels like she’s acquired some new knowledge never before known, and that’s Heather Chandler finally cooling her down after a summer of being boiled alive.

She continues the motions, eyes open and watching every single one of Heather’s reactions, it’s amazing, like nothing ever before.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Echoes throughout the church.

Heather uses the hand that was previously holding the pew with the knuckle-white intensity to clamp over mouth and the hand in Veronica’s hair just holds even tighter and pulls her closer.

If there is a heaven, this most definitely is it.

She’s doing her own personal preaching, tongue tasting, hands holding hips, it’s a perfect wonder.

Heather comes undone with a push of her hips and a silent scream, followed by smaller moans bubbling out of her throat. Veronica presses her tongue between her folds a few more times, until the stuttering noises die down and Heather lies limp.

“Worth the wait?”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“But was it?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Heather pulls her into a kiss, where she licks into Veronica’s mouth, tasting herself on her tongue wonderfully. Then they pull away, foreheads resting against each other. The tension is gone, but it’s replaced by something sweeter, softer, Heather kisses one of Veronica’s hands.

“So,” she says, panting slightly into Heather’s mouth. “Wanna go on a date sometime?”

Heather laughs something sweet, hand curling in her hair to brin Veronica into a sweet kiss.

“I’d love to.”