what if for Worlds, every single team wore the exact same black uniform, gym names were only announced my number..? would we stop looking at big gym names and start actually paying attention to skill level? would the same people be winning worlds?
aka, Veronica stumbles out of the closet… literally
Veronica Lodge was an illicit social icon in Riverdale High, known but barely spoken about in anything but a hushed tone. People didn’t fear her; they found her fascinating more than anything. How could a cursed young woman like herself still stand so tall in those wicked heels after everything she’d gone through? I
Perhaps it was with the support of an insanely charming and hardly chaste River Vixen who secretly befriended her. In Veronica’s defence, she hadn’t kept the friendship a secret on purpose. But the idea of being known to interact while also bruising lips in the stalls of the North hall girls’ washroom seemed… rather obscene. Surely someone would figure things out, especially when Veronica’s lustful gaze turned into one of emotional passion.
Somehow you’d kept it a secret for over a year and a half. But as the seasons changed, so did the nature of your fling.
She was falling in love with you and suddenly the sensuous obsession between the two of you meant so much more. It was no longer the fling either of you had meant it to be but as far as Veronica was concerned, it was one sided.
How could she know that you were completely enraptured by her very existence? The two of you would need a priest to shrive you for the sinful love and lust that you both wore like perfume.
Once finally turning eighteen, Veronica Lodge decided it was time to reveal the truth to her mother. It wasn’t the fear of being rejected by her mother that tore apart her stomach like the centre of a storm. It was the gut wrenching fear of what would happen after she told the truth.
Would you abandon her in fear of people putting the pieces together?
These were only a few of her thoughts as the two of you sat on the floor of her living room. It was one of the only safe places to be around each other in Riverdale because no teenagers were around on Veronica’s street. Veronica had let her worry slip through the cracks of her mask that she wore so carefully and you had begun to notice.
You offered her a massage and Veronica couldn’t deny that your fingers against her skin was what she needed to relax. You carefully unzipped her cheerleading uniform and gently pulled the creamy turtleneck sweater over her head.
Veronica was sitting back on her legs, humming an offbeat version of Drunk in Love. Your fingers were kneading into the curve of her shoulder blades and picking up a rhythm with the vibrations coursing through her upper body. Veronica didn’t quite believe you, but you’d tirelessly tried to convince her that she had a beautiful voice.
“I think I’m going to tell my mom,” Veronica whispered after a short moment of silence. She sounded cautious, almost seeming more terrified about telling you than she did about telling her mother she was gay.
“Hermione doesn’t seem like the judgmental type, Ronnie. I know it’s a big deal but I think it’d go really well.”
As Veronica sighed, you tugged her sweater down and zipping the cheerleading uniform back up. “I just don’t know what to even say. Any chance you want to do it for me?”
The pout on her lips when she turned around elicited a rumbling laugh from your lips. “Unfortunately that isn’t my place, but I’m always here for moral support.”
She took your hand and gently guided it to her cheek, letting your fingers splay over her smooth, latte skin. Her face was invitingly warm and her eyes held a nervous yet gentle expression. And even in the innocent moment between two young girls who had absolutely nothing figured out, a libidinous energy sparked between you.
Focus Veronica, she found herself thinking at the same moment you mentally repeated “this isn’t the time, Y/N” over and over again in your mind.
Yet teenagers, as they always seem to be, have a selfish tendency to take what they want. Full, glossed lips met with yours and pulled you into a deep kiss. As Veronica leaned back onto her legs, you were leaning forward in perfect unison. The crisp taste of cocoa from the hot chocolate you had shared earlier was a prominent flavour on your entangled tongues.
One of your hands ran up and down her silky thigh in a circular motion, dipping into the dimple beneath her hip. Veronica was no quiet damsel in distress, instead letting every moan escape her lips like poetry you wanted to replay in your head. All it took was your hand to go from her thigh to her back, pulling the zipper back down and slipping underneath the constricting sweater.
But before anything could come from the arousing encounter on the living room floor, the sound of keys jingling from the front hall sounded through the home like an alarm. Your hand shot back as if your finger tips had been scorched by blue flames. Veronica leapt from the ground, her lithe frame transitioning into the spirited cheerleaders body she needed at that moment. It was like a routine and Veronica didn’t know the steps, but nevertheless she was pulling you from the ground and dancing you around the furniture into the… closet?
Before Hermione Lodge could even take a step into her home, the two of you were thigh to thigh and chest to chest in the unreasonably small coat closet. It was unimaginably cruel, forced into such close proximity with the indents of her teeth in your bottom lip and proof of her arousal uncomfortably hot between her thighs.
“Veronica? Where are you?” Hermione’s voice sounded reasonably far away, probably in the bedroom.
A nervous laugh bubbled in your chest and Veronica could almost see it, forcing her to cover your mouth. In an attempt to make light of the immensely uncomfortable situation, your tongue slipped between your lips and licked her palm in a swift motion. You smirked when she yanked her hand back as if she had been bit. Veronica suppressed a gasp and glared at you with a frustrated furrow to her manicured brows.
“This is the worst timing ever,” she whispered angrily, more hot and bothered than actually mad.
“I let you grab my ass at the ice-cream store. Talk about timing, Veronica. The guy was about to give me extra brownie chunks.”
She groaned yet still placed a hand on your waist. She had decided that she could always claim to be steadying herself. You, on the other hand could read her perfectly calculative mind and couldn’t help but be thankful for ridiculously scandalous moments like that one.
When were you ever going to be hiding in a closet with someone you–
“I think I love you,” Veronica mumbled only a breath away from your lips. Neither of you noticed that her voice was slightly loud or that Hermione had stopped calling her daughter’s name.
Instead, all you could focus on was the rapid heartbeats shared between the two of you and a thrilling spark in your chests. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth the same moment that Hermione Lodge opened the closet door.
“Good evening Veronica. Is this closeted make out supposed to be ironic or are you still hiding your girlfriend from me?”
Veronica’s mouth opened and closed a few times before a coherent thought went through her mind. “I–She–She’s not my girl–”
You signalled for her to hush by grabbing her hand proudly and looking Hermione right in the eyes. “Nice to meet you outside of the diner, Mrs. Lodge. It’s been a long time since you’ve worked there. I’m Y/N, Veronica’s girlfriend.”
“I know your name, Y/N. Veronica never stops talking about you.”
So that’s why it was no surprise to find you in a closet.
“You mean I outed myself before tonight?” Veronica exasperated, her eyes narrowing in frustration at her own carelessness.
“Honey, if you didn’t want me to know then why did you think making out in the closet was any better than talking about this girl non stop for months?”
“You talk about me that much?” Your gaze settled on Veronica and a grin painted your lips when a rosy tint bloomed on her cheeks.
“Oh, shut up,” she whispered bashfully.
And that was how Veronica Lodge stumbled out of the closet the same night she first said I love you.