Chapter 40 (Patreon)

“No. No frickin’ way. I refuse to believe you, Jason Black.” Cassie gaped from her bridal carry position in my arms. When I looked anywhere but her face, idly scanning the darkened streets below us for trouble, her painted nail jabbed me sharply in the chest. “A literal fucking galaxy, are you serious? That’s so unfair!” 

I instinctively glanced back down at the pouting girl, and my heart warmed at the uncommon and beautiful sight, in spite of the annoyance and envy on her face.

Cassie had decided that ‘dinner with Amy Dallon’ meant pulling out all the stops, and so she’d spent a full thirty minutes doing her makeup and picking out her outfit. Being her boyfriend, I would be the first one to announce, loud and proud, that Cass was beautiful - petite, pretty, with soft lips, a cute face that highlighted her femininity and playful nature, long black eyelashes, and a silky bob hairstyle that showed off just how slim and smooth her neck was.

However, what many people didn’t know - partially because she didn’t have any fucking friends, was that she was also a fucking killer make-up artist and… eccentric fashionista. She usually wore colorful and eye-catching clothing, but nothing that necessarily made you look at her and go ‘wow, she really knows how to dress!’. Oversized graphic tees, tattered fishnets and thigh-length hoodies - shit that you’d expect from a cutesy internet-loving girl who spent way too much time lounging inside. Even then, she rarely wore makeup; mostly because she straight up didn’t need it.

Tonight, Cassie decided to put a little ‘glam’ on.

Light pink eyeshadow, glittering subtly along the edges, surrounded sharp, masterfully-applied black ‘winged eyeliner’ - at least, I thought that was what it was called. Combined with the blue and pink contact lenses she put in, the girl’s glare was borderline breathtaking in its accentuated intensity. A very light, almost impossible to see dusting of blush covered her nose and cheeks, giving her pale face a more ‘rosy’ appearance, and she had on a light sheen of lip gloss that tasted like blueberries.

It tasted pretty good. She’d gotten kinda huffy when I smeared it, though.

Her clothes were tasteful and high-end designer shit - a black, aesthetically-frayed crop top that read ‘kiss more girls !’ in a cute, bubblegum pink font, baggy black cargo pants with a lot of zippers, and big white shoes that I was fairly certain were Fila Disruptor IIs. A heart-shaped choker finished off the ensemble.

All in all, she looked like one of those ‘manic pixie dream girls’ my homies used to warn me about back in college. Red flags due to trauma, but cute as fuck and freaky as hell in the sheets.

I hadn’t listened to my homies back then, and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna listen to ‘em now.

“Giving me bedroom eyes won’t get you out of the doghouse, jerk-face. I’m mad at you.” Cassie’s voice, quiet and kinda smoky with both annoyance and embarrassment, brought me out of my thoughts. She was staring up at me with those narrowed, colorful eyes, a question burning within. Why Rune?

Right. I had just gotten done explaining to her why I had the whole ‘Boy Who Lived’ thing going on with my face - giving a summarized explanation of my Reality Marble and what I’d done inside of it. Rather than being shocked or blown away by the new magical perk contained within my soul, of course, she was, instead, upset that Tammy had been the first one to see my ‘ultimate anime finisher’ (her words not mine).

I wasn’t annoyed at Cassie for being upset. It was, admittedly, a pretty fucking crazy experience, and I understood why she wanted to be the one to have it with me, but…

“My perks - they give me an overview of what they do, but never anything too specific. Probably to encourage self-experimentation and growth,” I began, moving my gaze up from my girlfriend’s ridiculously soft looking lips in order to stare her dead in the eyes. “Since I wasn’t sure what I was workin’ with, I figured-”

“You’d risk it with her instead. Yeah, I knowww. I get it,” Cassie sighed theatrically, but most of the frustration seemed to have left her face, replaced by fond annoyance. “My overpowered knight in shining armor. Doesn’t mean I’m not still salty. Girlfriends should have premium first dibs to awesome magic shows, not the racist chick in our frickin’ basement! Bleh.”

Muscles easing now that I was officially out of the red zone, I gave the pouty girl a charming, crooked grin. “I thought you were startin’ to like our lil’ prisoner.”

Cassie scoffed, rustling around in my arms to wrestle her smartphone out of her pocket. “Yeah right. She’s a bitch - I just didn’t want to make things all weird and tense. Plus, her clothes were starting to stiiiink.” Wrinkling her nose like the memory was bringing the scent back to the forefront of her senses, Cassie nestled closer to my chest and loaded up some application that I couldn’t really see. 

Judging by the quiet, catchy little jingle, it was probably some sort of mobile game. I rolled my eyes.

“God, Cass, you’re not one of those, are you?”

“H-huh?” Defensively, before I could even say add anything else, the tech gremlin was cupping her little hands around the front of her black and pink phone case - the color matching her nails, I idly noted - and hiding the device from my lidded, judgemental gaze. “Noooo…? I’ve been on dates… before. All the time. Totally. I’m just passing time on the way to pick her up!”

Cassie is lying.

Thanks, Intuition. 

“Once we’re at the Dallon’s crib,” I chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating the small slip of a girl leaning her head against my chest, “Phone in your pocket, eyes up front. Gotta make a good impression for our date, don’t we?”

“Duh- obviously, Jay. Fuckboy Tactics 101,” she scoffed derisively, pointing her nose up, and for her sake, I didn’t comment on how she tried to sneakily slide her phone back into the pocket of her baggy pants. We were getting closer, now, to the somewhat rich neighborhood on the edge of the city that Amy lived at - Captain’s Hill. With my perfect memory, doubling back and retracing the steps I took to take her there all those days back as a Quetzalcoatl was simplicity incarnate - I just had to make sure to keep myself closer to the clouds than the ground since it was still relatively early in the night and I didn’t feel like dealing with pointed fingers and flash photography.

Being the most prolific black hero in the entire city made it hard to go anonymous. I could’ve slipped on an illusion, changed myself to be some featureless blob that people’s eyes glided over, but I didn’t want hiding away to be the start of what was supposed to be a fun night.

Honestly, I didn’t think I needed to hide away. 

With my Reality Marble, I truly wasn’t afraid of anyone in the city. I hadn’t been before, not really, but there had been a lot more caution and wariness in my moves. I didn’t want to completely lose that edge of vigilance, not at all, but with certain power came a certain amount of confidence that you had to be real with yourself about, and I knew I’d be fine if most villains in Brockton Bay came at me. Probably not all at once, but individually? I was supremely confident in whooping their asses.

Then again, it wasn’t just me out here tonight. I was taking Cass out, and soon enough, I’d have the greatest healer this side of the East Coast with me as well. How confident was I in protecting both of those girls and being able to take out any villain in the city?

… Slightly less, if only because Cass wasn’t a combat Tinker and Amy, although her cigarette trick was lit, wasn’t experienced enough for cape battles. Yet.

Cass had Weapon Magic, that was true, but the little pen knife I saw her clip into her waistband wouldn’t be worth shit if she cracked beneath pressure, or fucked up her aim. I could face down the barrel of a gun without flinching because I had perks that made me develop that sort of resilience to fear. My girl didn’t. Not to mention, her mana pool was extremely small, probably due to her own lack of training and experimentation. That wasn’t her fault, considering she didn’t even really like Weapon Magic in the first place, but maybe if I…-

“Babe, I think we’re here!” Cass’ sweet, melodic voice tore me out of my thoughts. I instinctively slowed down, transitioning from a smooth and consistent sixty to a more clipped twenty miles per hour. Her hand on my Mark tingled, and I allowed my attention to drift from the gated-off community below me to my girlfriend’s concerned gaze.

“What’s up?”

“If I can’t be on my phone,” she smirked, patting me softly on the cheek, “Then you have to turn your frickin’ brain off for one night. Okay? You were glaring like someone took a shit on your favorite gaming chair.”

My brain stalled, stuck between the electric tingling of her hand on my skin and her oddly specific wording. “... Why a gaming cha-”

“The important thing is,” Cassie cut me off hurriedly, huffing. “No Avalon stuff tonight, okay? Let’s have fun with Amy, get her to loosen up!” A small, skeevy little grin formed on her face as I slowly, yet surely, began to lower us down towards what looked like a relatively clean and lonely spot between two large, ranch-style properties with tall, white picket fences. Places I never would’ve been able to afford back in my old homeworld. It was about a block away from the Dallon Residence, the lights were off and there were no vehicles in the driveways.

I mulled over her words as we landed, four pairs of shoes against polished stone. “... Yeah. ‘Ight, I can do that. Was just thinkin’ about-”

“Zzzt!” Cass buzzed, nimbly leaping away from me and placing her arms in a large ‘X’ pointed straight at my face.

My eyebrow twitched. “I’m just sayin’, I was-”

“Bzzzt!” She shook her head rapidly, slamming her forearms together to accentuate the ‘X’.

“Cass-”

“Womp womp- Jayyy!”

Quarry successfully thrown over my broad shoulders like a sack of potatoes, I gave Cass’s wriggling butt a playful little smack and began making my way out onto the streets of Captain’s Hill proper, ignoring the marshmallow-like impacts of her small fists slamming against the back of my snug turtleneck. 

“Let me go, asshole!” Despite the heat of her words, there was an unmistakable giggling undertone that sold any sort of fake vehemence Cassie was trying to put into her voice.

“Bzzzt,” I buzzed back, checking my watch.

8:02 PM.

Two minutes late for the pick-up, but Cass did spend a bit too much time picking out what to wear. That was my excuse and I was sticking by it.

“Hold on tight, Cass.”

“... Huh?! No, don-”

Ignoring my captive’s yelp, I blurred down the empty sidewalk.

_________________________________________

Dallon Household

Thirty Minutes Ago…

Amy stared at her phone screen, nibbling on the drawstring of one of her gray throwaway hoodies. Her heart hammered noisily in her chest, beating so fast that she would’ve been worried about some sort of condition if she hadn’t been absolutely positive of her supreme physical health.

Her DMs with Avalon were still open, the phone propped up on her pillow and angled in just the right way for her to view the entire conversation from her favorite non sexual position - non sexual because she was a grade A virgin, of course - the blanket burrito. It was her favorite position because she had no mobility to pull at her hair, bite at the cuticles of her finger nails, or pull from the pack of cigarettes hidden beneath the battered copy of Moby Dick in her nightstand. All of her bad habits forced to the wayside because she was rolled up in a mess of blankets and quilts.

“Come on…” she murmured bleakly, anxiety and anticipation twisting razor blades through her insides, “What do I fucking do?”

Her eyes swept over the DM conversation again.

(7:10 PM) Avalon: Yo, wanna go out to dinner with me and Iris tonight? Our treat.

(7:13 PM) Amy: Iris? And do you mean dinner, as in a date? If you’re joking it isn’t funny, Jason.

(7:13 PM) Avalon: Iris is my girlfriend, and we want to take you out to dinner. Someplace nice.

(7:14 PM) Avalon: Damn, forgot to say: Yes, as a date. I already told you I’m into you, Panny, and Iris wants to meet you and get to know you too. If you’re not comfortable with this, I’d completely understand. Just let me know.

There were so many fucking things to unpack there - so many things that hurt her, made her heart hurt, but also filled her with nothing but confusion.

The obvious elephant in the room was this ‘Iris’ girl - apparently his… girlfriend? But Jason, he’d been flirting with her quite openly, and honestly. Cortisol and adrenaline weren’t chemicals that only triggered due to lies; they were triggered by a wide variety of things, including fear, guilt, and shame. Either Jason was simply an egotistical, annoyingly beautiful manwhore who genuinely felt not even the slightest bit of hesitance at the thought of cheating, or, and this one was throwing her fucking stomach into a tizzy…

They were in some sort of… open relationship? No, not open - there was a specific term for it, something that started with a ‘p’. Body clammy with a complicated mix of emotions that she had no intentions of unraveling just yet, Amy squeezed one sweaty hand out of her burrito and yanked her phone closer to her face. She ignored the way her fingers were twitching, swiping away from her DMs with Jason and pulling up her internet browser.

It took a couple tries, mainly due to autocorrect fucking with her, but eventually, she managed to type in ‘dating multiple people’. 

A shit ton of different articles filled her screen, but Amy didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with those right now - she just needed the word and definition. Fortunately, those were at the top of the page.

“Polyamory,” she read aloud, her heart skipping a beat at the hoarse sound of her voice pinging quietly off of the walls. Lowering her volume down to a near whisper, Amy continued, “The practice of having multiple intimate relationships, whether sexual or just romantic, with the full knowledge and consent of all parties involved…”

That had to be it. Jason was in a polyamorous relationship, and both him and his- his girlfriend wanted to take her out on a date. Jason, the man whose body and voice she’d literally masturbated to not even six hours ago like a disgusting, obsessed slut, and his girlfriend, probably some supermodel prom queen type that was just going with it because she didn’t want to lose the catch she’d already caught. Maybe she was better off just ignoring the text. Maybe she should ignore the text and block his number, stopping all of this before it fully backfired and fucked her up even more. Maybe-

‘Maybe,’ A voice in her head spoke up, forcing a spark of hope through the spiraling muck of despair beginning to overtake her mind, ‘Just maybe… they’re both actually interested in you. Find you cute. Find you worthy of, if not love, just a good fucking time. Don’t see you as ugly, or fat, or disgusting, or a freak, or-’

Belatedly, Amy realized that it was her voice that she was hearing, and that she was the one hyping herself up. That spark of hope in her chest didn’t die even though the words did, however - it grew into an ember, a familiar ember of bravery not completely dissimilar to what Jason had stoked in her spirit just the other day. It wasn’t that same fearlessness that pushed her power to adapt and evolve, however - it was a more grounded sort of bravery. A feeling of hope, of motivation. Honestly, if she had to guess, it felt like…

Dopamine?

‘I want to go out. With them. Mainly Jason, because he’s… him, but I want to at least meet his girlfriend,’ Amy thought stubbornly, grunting as she plied her other arm out of the blanket burrito. She didn’t know why her usual depressive spiral hadn’t taken over like it usually did when she got too deep into her feelings, but flashes of productivity and motivation like this didn’t happen often, if at all. Her entire life was pretty much the prime definition of a ‘rut’, so for her to feel like this over a ‘date’...

Not even just a normal date, either. Her first actual, fully-consented date, with two people. The thought sent a wave of nervousness through her body, but this time it was a giddy sort of nervousness - butterflies instead of razor blades. 

(7:34 PM) Amy: You’re both splitting the tab. Do you want me to meet you two Downtown?

Amy bit her lip before pressing send, indecision making her uncertain again. She wasn’t the best at casual jokes - she had a wit, sure, but it was caustic and dry ninety percent of the time. Jason seemed to like it, seemed to like her in general, but what about Iris-

(7:35 PM) Avalon: Change my name in your phone to ‘sugar daddy’ and I got you.

Her face burned with embarrassment-

(7:35 PM) Avalon: Jk. We’re on our way, wear something cute. Or wear a potato sack and just smile for me. Either way will make me happy.

She wanted to die.

She wanted to die, because there was no reason for him to be that fucking grossly adorable. He was like a drooling, dangerous wolf and a cute, fluffy german shepherd all at once, and it made it almost impossible to be mad at him. It was unfair!

Amy tossed her phone to the side without replying, grabbed one of her pillows, and screamed all of her repressed emotions into the velvety material. The anxiety, the anticipation, the sadness, the pain and betrayal, the fear and hope and excitement - in those precious few seconds, with her door double-locked and the knowledge that the only other person in the house at that moment was a sleeping Mark Dallon, Amy allowed herself to release all of it for the first time in a very long time. 

At least, without gross sobbing and binge eating.

“Okay,” she muttered when she finally pulled herself out of her breakfast burrito, tossing the assorted quilts and blankets sloppily on the floor. “First, a shower because I smell like dying people, cigs, and sweat. Then…”

A chill went down Amy’s spine.

Large, tired brown eyes turned towards the drab, eggshell gray doors that acted as the entrance to her walk-in closet. She took a step towards it, kicking her blankets out of the way with one bare foot, and hesitated.

Amy knew what she would find inside.

Boring, plain, unflattering clothes meant to hide her form away from any and all judgemental eyes. Baggy hoodies and jackets, sweaters that looked like they belonged to some of the very same grandmas who croaked on life support that evening, denim jeans that went out of fashion like half a decade ago…

Nothing she could use tonight. Nothing she wanted to use tonight. Her throat locked up, anxiety and anger - at herself - threatening to claw its way back up, but Amy gritted her teeth and exhaled.

‘I’ll text Vic,’ she moped, dragging her feet over to her dresser for some clean- ‘...For underwear, too.’

No matter what happened tonight, she wasn’t going out on her ‘first’ date in granny panties.

She refused.

…

Thirty Minutes Later…

…

Good news: Vicky was fine with her wearing some of her clothes. Amy hadn’t actually ended up asking her about the underwear, chickening out at the last second, but… what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her?

Bad news: Her sister was out on a date. With Dean. Downtown. 

Now, Downtown Brockton Bay was fairly fucking big, but Amy wasn’t stupid. She knew her sister almost as good as her sister knew herself, and she was able to recognize a crush when she saw one. The googly eyes, the blushing, the way she was practically riding Jason’s ass up until the point she’d been asked to give them some privacy. Whether Victoria would ever acknowledge it or not, she was attracted to Jason, and that meant she was probably a little jealous too. It felt… odd, in a fucked up way, to be someone her sister was jealous of, when she was often the one jealous of who her sister was with. It was all just fucked up, and not something she wanted to think about when her date…s were on their way. 

The reason why Victoria and Dean being on a date tonight was bad news was because, since Amy knew her sister, she knew that she would probably ‘just so happen’ to wander in with her beautiful looks and magnetizing charisma, claiming to have ‘been in the area’ since she’d been out with Dean all night. It was something Amy didn’t want to deal with. She loved Vicky, she truly, truly did, but…

Amy needed her own life. Her own friends. Her own relationships.

Otherwise, shit would just repeat. A certain man  taught her that.

“Fuck it. We can go to Fugly Bob’s.” she decided, running a fine-toothed comb through the frizzy curls of brown hair that simply refused to lay straight. Wincing at the yanking sensation, Amy dropped the comb onto the bathroom counter and huffed at her reflection in the mirror. “No stupidly pretty sister, no stupid Dean, just… us.”

Her reflection stared back. A round, plain face with pasty skin, far too many freckles, and tired eyes that would look better on a racoon than a human girl. Amy had already accepted her unattractive appearance long ago, back when she’d first been made fun of for her freckles and Vicky kicked the asshole in the dick, but seeing everything now, right before she went out with a guy she liked and a girl she wanted to impress… It was surreal. In a bad way.

Her eyes wandered down to her outfit - a stylish off-shoulder white top that only showed the faintest glimpse of her stomach, form-fitting jeans with tears along the thighs, and high-heeled black boots that took a full, embarrassing five minutes of practice to actually walk in. Already, she could see multiple things that she would immediately change if her damn powers would actually let her; her freckles, her boobs that were a bit too big and hung slightly because of it, her thigh squish that was practically begging to escape through the tears in her jeans…

Her oversized ass was fine, but only because Jason said he liked it.

She didn’t wear any makeup because Amy genuinely had no clue how to apply it, and the last thing she wanted to do was make herself look like a freaking clown because she tried to paint on her face with mascara, or the foundation pen or whatever the hell pretty girls used. She was rawdogging it, for better or worse.

DING-DONG!

DING-DONG!

The doorbell rang two times in rapid succession, and Amy’s stomach flipped. She scrambled out of the bathroom, sprinting for her purse - no, one of Vicky’s purses - that she’d left on the dining room table. She already had the essentials placed inside; some spending cash, her phone, her state ID and driver’s license in case those were needed for whatever fucking reason, some breath mints in case she ended up eating something stinky and- and…

Kiss. Yes. If kiss. The thought made her head woozy.

DING-DONG!

“I’m coming!”

Almost tripping and eating shit, Amy tossed her purse over her shoulder and made a bee-line for the door. Mark was still asleep - hopefully - and Carol was out late in the office. If all went well, then she would be able to make it back home before midnight curfew and avoid the uncomfortably terse morning-after conversation that ended with her feeling less admonished and more neglected.

Then again, what dinner would last for more than a couple hours?

Inhaling deeply, Amy swung the door open and-

“... This the Dallon Residence?” 

Leaning against the entryway, towering over her and enveloping her entire person with his sandalwood-like scent, was one Jason Black. Grinning like the cat that caught the canary, the man practically exuded an effortless charisma that even Vicky would be hard pressed to match. Just the mere sight of him in his form-fitting black turtleneck and dress pants had her lips twitching upwards into an instinctive smile, that mottled knot of anxiety in her chest loosening. A gold chain glinted from his chest, and a pair of circular black sunglasses hid his eyes from view.

But the tree-like marking on his face caught her attention immediately. Amy stared, opening her mouth to speak, but-

“That was the lamest line you could’ve come up with, Jay. Shame!”

Ducking beneath the arm propped up on the doorway, a second figure appeared - shorter than both Amy and Jason, but no more diminutive because of it. She was clearly of Asian descent, quite possibly mixed with white, and Amy felt her teeth click shut and mouth go dry as the girl brushed her black hair away from her bright, colorful eyes and smiled a happy grin that made her flushed cheeks dimple.

Standing right in front of Jason, with the tall young man looming over her and smirking that insufferable smirk of his, the two looked like fire and water. Yin and Yang. Jason, with his dark and mysterious colors and dangerous aura, and the girl - Iris, Amy guessed - dressed in a chaotic clash of edgy and cute, with her pink eyeshadow and glossed up lips and her shirt that read…

Her heart skipped a beat, and Amy knew - she just knew that her face was crimson right now. ‘...Help.’

The girl’s grin turned positively cat-like, and she took a step closer.

Amy was frozen in place.

“Ohhh? You like my shirt?” ‘Iris’ asked teasingly, her voice - higher than Amy’s, but with an almost husky purr - scratching an itch that the healer didn’t even know she had. “What does it say? I can’t read upside down.”

She was fucking gorgeous. Slammed every ‘hot girl’ button that Amy had. It was then that she knew she was in trouble.

Amy tried to look up at Avalon, but the man didn’t say a word - just watched.

Somehow, that made her body heat up even more.

“I- uh, I mean, it s-says… kiss more… girls?”

Iris took another step closer, and it was at this point that Amy realized that they were nearly chest to chest. Or, rather, chest to neck. Iris was a few inches shorter, after all - not that it mattered all that much in this instance.

“Mhm, it sure does. Do you want to do it now? Or later?”

The question sent all new waves of heat through her body. Amy’s eyes widened, breath hitching in her chest, and she could smell Iris’ scent - a citrusy, slightly sweet blueberry that mingled perfectly with Jason’s own woodsy, natural musk. It filled her nostrils, moving through her head until she could taste it on her tongue, and Amy found herself captivated.

‘This isn’t fair, this isn’t fair, this isn’t fair.’

How? How was she supposed to fight this when she had this cute girl and this hot guy in front of her house and they both wanted her and she was still horny from earlier and would it be okay if-

“Chill,” Avalon’s deep, cool voice broke through the haze, and Amy realized that both she and Iris had been staring at each other. “She wore that shirt just so she could use that cringe ass pick-up line.” His head tilted down, his smirk turning predatory, and Amy felt her spine tingle. Again. “Can’t say I blame her, though.” 

The shorter girl blushed through her makeup, taking a step back and lightly jabbing her elbow into Jason’s abs. He didn’t even flinch. “Hush!”

Turning her eyes back up to Amy, Iris extended a hand. Her fingernails were a little longer than average, painted a pearlescent pink with black and white flames spread along the edges. “Sorry, I kinda got carried away. You get so cute when you’re flustered.”

“... Thank you?” Amy tried to speak without stuttering, and was quite proud of her success. Quickly wiping her clammy hands on her pants, she jerkily gripped Iris’ hand and prepared herself for-

Overall healthy. Minor malnourishment, quickly recovering. Microtears in vaginal mus-

Amy was mortified. Not at the fact that they’d had sex, but because she’d just invaded the girl’s privacy without even warning her. Before she could apologize, however, Iris continued speaking,

“My name’s Cassie, by the way. My cape name is Iris, which is also widely known as the Super Awesome Hacker Sorceress Who Speak With Tech-”

“It’s just Iris. She’s not cool enough for super long epithets yet,” Jason cut in, grabbing both of their attention. As Cassie scowled and Amy eyed the mark on his face again, the man gestured to the front yard with a quick jerk of the head. “We can catch up on the way. Not tryna be chillin’ on the front porch when your folks get home, no offense.”

Her heart rate finally approaching a level that could be considered ‘normal’, Amy finally mustered up the courage to speak in full sentences. “Ahem. Fine by me, as long as we head away from Downtown. Like, say… Fugly Bob’s?”

Cassie’s eyes lit up, a smile quickly taking over the cute little frown she had. “Oooh, heck yes! Weee might be a little overdressed, though.”

Amy looked down at her clothes and shrugged a little uncomfortably. “Maybe. I’m not used to dressing up like this in the first place…”

“Fuck it,” Jason smirked, pushing off of the doorway and stepping down into the front lawn. “Greasy burgers it is. I’ll take us somewhere more fancy on the second date, no worries. Like Dave & Busters.”

“Blech! Might as well shoot me in the asshole with a railgun, babe. Dave & Busters suck dick! Heh, what about Chuck E. Cheese's?”

“Pause on that - what is with you and these wack ass, super specific sayings tonight you fuckin' weirdo?”

“Bzzzt, bite me!”

As Cass blew a raspberry at Jason’s back, causing the man to flip her off over his shoulder without looking back, Amy stepped fully outside and closed the door behind her. Both of their voices - Jason’s and Cass’ - filled the dull, silent air, interrupted by a pig-like snort from Cass that caused Jason to chuckle that warm, campfire-like chuckle he did, and Amy felt something open up in her stomach. She felt giddy, and free, and happy when her boots stepped out into the vibrant green grass, a sense of both excitement and trepidation filling her body.

This… felt right. Even though she still felt awkward and uncertain in this dynamic, even if the date went sour and things didn’t work out the way she knew she wanted…

Amy knew, right then and there, that she felt like she finally found where she belonged.

And, when Jason wrapped his arms around their waists, pressing them against the side of his chiseled body as he blasted into the sky, and Cassie’s warm, soft hand ended up wrapping around hers behind the small of his back…

Amy also knew, right then and there, under no uncertain terms-

She was a raging, flaming bisexual.

There was no doubt about it.

_____________________________________

A/N:

We get a bit of slice of life/character development here. I think it was obvious that it was coming up, but yeah - things are gonna get a bit crazy soon. Hot and steamy, but probably not in the way you think. 🐲

Hope you enjoyed the Amy POV. Wanted to give a bit more depth to her character, show how she feels, and I think her POV works better for her meeting Cass for the first time. Jason's POV for it would be like a man looking at two Pokemon speak to each other lmfao. He sorta just watched.

Cass has a bit of a dominant side, though? HMMM...

Not really. Amy was just thrown off her game and is very inexperienced. More than Cass was in the beginning, even. Plus, y'know, Cass is actually pretty as hell and Amy may have a thing for manic pixie girls.

Anyways, see you next chapter gang!