Chapter Text
There are nights out Sallie May puts actual, tangible effort into how she looks. She will often spend more time applying lipstick just so against the contours of her lips than picking out what to wear. She has a trio of Ol' Reliable outfits to pick from that she can just as easily jump into as she can jump out of. The leather thing with the back showing, the sundress a bit too short, and the jumpsuit she shanked a Karen over in the ThriftyWrath parking lot.
And then there are nights like tonight where she just needed to get the fuck out of the apartment because fuck her fucking roommate for not doing the goddamn dishes and leaving her ughhhhhhhhhh
Not worth it. Tonight she needed to get laid quick and cheap and at a place she doesn't have to put on airs.
She threw on a tank top and grey sweatpants, grabbed her shoulder bag and got into her truck, screaming her anger at her dipshit roommate and her late-rent-paying-trust-fund ass before roaring the truck into the warm Wrathian nights. Windows down, slightly cool wind. Some punk band blaring through the speakers on their last, buzzy legs.
She floored it through yellow lights turning split second orange into red. Needed to get there needed to get there needed to not be in her gentrified apartment complex with the shit ass coffee shop below that doesn't take cash and kicks out the homeless. Needed to smell girl sweat as it rubs into her skin, needed some lonely dyke to corrupt or some mommy figure to do the corruption for a change. Needed tits, Satan fuckin Lord it'd been a minute since she had like a really great pair of tits in her mouth.
Sallie thrusted her hips a bit, her cock getting just a taste of friction against the worn briefs. She yells out her moan into the air and harmonizes with the dude in the song talk-singing his way around drinking gin from a jam jar and Rod Stewart with the stomach pump and Sallie May's got somethin' in her sweatpants, she cackles over the song.
She pulled into the gravel lot outside of the Damburst-her, a perfectly rectangular building on the outskirts of town, right before the mountains claim their stead. She adjusted herself before getting out and sniffed under her arm.
Forgot deodorant.
Honestly thank Satan.
They were taking a break, Barbie kept telling herself as she rode the surprisingly roomy elevator down to Wrath, grasping the hand rail with occasional nervous squeezing. They were taking a break to “figure things out” and “maybe try opening things up”.
“Opening things up,’’ she knew exactly what that meant. That meant Kendra wanted to put the lovey dovey moves on someone she already met and wanted permission to stop giving a shit about her.
Barbie gritted her teeth and scratched the back of her head, trying to tamp down that thought not based in reality.
What actually happened was Kendra wanted to give the poly thing a shot because they both missed playing the field, missed the thrill of random hookups. Plus they were getting older and had both expressed frustration that they were losing touch with other dykes outside their small little bubble of an apartment.
And in theory, Barbie was down for all of this.
In practice Barbie was furious that Kendra brought all this stupid shit in the middle of dinner, a dinner that Barb spent relative effort putting together. She wanted to start a mother stew the two of them could keep going for the long run. Something romantic she saw in a bullshit women's magazine in the pharmacy once.
So yeah, it was a slap in the face and yeah she stormed out and pitched a big fat bitch fit on her way out and yeah she sent a “sorry” text later and yeah she was gonna just stick to hard liquor and yes I'll be okay
Barb spent the majority of the elevator ride muttering at nobody, her thoughts too loud to stay thoughts.
It's not like she hated the idea, fucking around with permission. Sure made some of the more lecherous thoughts buzzing around her brain a little less intrusive.
“Fuckin make a big dumb stew with fuckin carrots and shit I bought with my own money thank you very much fuckin ughhh” she growled at her feet, desperate to get to her stop to put a cigarette in her mouth.
She didn't have a plan tonight other than to go to this dyke bar she got kicked out of a couple years ago and hope the kicker didn't work there anymore. Window shop. Phone numbers. Maybe some frenching in the terrible, terrible bathroom. Then go home and curl up with Kendra and whisper apologies to someone who conked out at 10pm like an old lady.
She loved her. Maybe wanted to start a family. Move to the woods in Envy, drive the hell version of a Subaru Outback. As far away from home as she could get.
The doors opened and she dashed out and frantically dug the last cigarette from the carton. Before realizing she left her lighter at home.
“Fuuuuuuck!”
She didn't know if she was horny or spiteful or mad at herself but she needed to fix one of these things tonight.
Verosika was the only one still up for being out tonight. Her friends and Wally had all tapped out one at a time, Wally the last one. Little freak could put it away, not sure where any of it went. He kissed her in that way that tickled her lips with that stupid mustache and told her to “have fun tonight, I'm gonna just go home and pass out”.
He was the kind of stability that came out of nowhere. Grounded her. She loved being the sugar mommy for a silly little guy, sue her. He was kind and funny and stupid in a very endearing, harmless way. And he wanted to be with her. Actively, enthusiastically.
Sex was weird. They both knew each other's libido were never gonna match the attraction they both felt for one another. She had grown to accept that. Mostly.
Verosika was down to clown pretty much constantly and with Wally it was only like once or twice a month. And those one or two times were fun as fuck, but always left her wanting more.
She was a succubus, he was down for that, he knew what came with the job description and didn't care. She came home to him and kicked off her boots and vented about her day and he'd hang onto every word like gospel. They'd do a puzzle or watch a movie and spend the nights cuddling and kissing like a boring married couple.
A boring not married couple.
Currently.
Verosika portaled into her walk in closet and stripped down to bare essentials; tank top and leather jacket, black leather slacks, black boots Blitz had convinced her were “hot as shit” despite being maybe a smidge too clunky. He had a good point sometimes.
She let her hair down, letting it cascade down her back. She cracked her neck and knuckles and swished a shot of mouthwash around. Spitting it back out the portal she walked back through into a gravel parking lot in Wrath.
Verosika Mayday was bored as hell, too energized to call it quits, and needed to put her mouth on some dirtbag girl as soon as possible.
She walked through the door of the Damburst-her, a bar she could relax in because nobody on this side of the ring gave two shits about her kind of fame. Still could get free drinks.
The band on stage finished their set and started to break down the gear. Verosika swirled her whiskey sour from a barstool and looked around at the half empty room. It was only 10:39. Way too early. But plenty of time to get nice and toasty before anyone interesting came through the door. She waited. The house music came back on. The door opened.