My feet drag across carpet as I slump into my apartment and shut the door behind me. The lights fizz like ginger ale when I flick the switch, and the crackling feeling they produce sends a delicious shiver up my spine. The sensation of electricity nearly distracts me from the exhaustion setting in, but not quite.
The kitchen sink is filled with dishes. I only wash one bowl for tonight, leaving the rest to sit another day. Vaguely, I pour myself a bowl of cereal and head down the hall to my bedroom, navigating the maze of clutter I don’t have time to clean. I squeeze my soaked hair into a designated bucket next to my bed before peeling off my wet clothes and towel drying myself. The air is cold tonight. I hope Siren is just as tired as I am, though somehow, I doubt she is. Our fights may end in ties, but at least she doesn’t get tossed around in a water vortex every time.
My sore body slumps into bed, refusing to find new clothes I’ll have to change in the morning. My cereal tastes as soggy as I feel.
I click on the television with the remote at the foot of my bed and turn it to the Super News channel. After a few clips of Techno saving a falling plane and Lava Lass stopping a bank robbery, my face appears, soaked and thoroughly pissed off. My purple-and-black suit looks even tighter than usual. Siren, on the other hand, looks to be thoroughly enjoying herself as I hurl sparks at a smirking face. She deflects every one, until I work my way too close for her to have time to deflect.
I admire the scorch marks left on her arm.
I shut off the television; I already know what happened. Siren sent a tidal wave down the street, forcing me to run ahead of it to save the people watching from the sidewalks, while she escaped into the subway. By the time I returned, she was gone, probably already changed back into her civilian persona.
A repetitive beeping noise sounds from my nightstand, and my work phone glows. With a deeply disgruntled sigh, I answer.
“Stormchaser speaking. What now?” My voice is sharper than I mean for it to be, but I don’t have the energy to care.
“Don’t give me attitude. I don’t have time for your complaints,” my fire-wielding past mentor snaps from the other end of a crackling line. I let out an annoyed breath.
“Sorry, Missy. What’s the emergency?” Missy doesn’t miss a beat.
“We’ve got a hit on Siren. An abandoned warehouse on the coast about two miles from Jay’s Peak. Could be her hideout.”
“What information are you going off of?”
“You know I can’t tell you that, Stormchaser. Will you take the mission or not?” I roll my eyes. She can’t seriously expect me to go now.
“Can it wait until morning? I’m soaked and exhausted.” There’s silence on the other end for a moment, before–
“Yes. But I want you there before six. Understood?”
“Understood, Missy.” I feel the line go dead before the distant crackling stops. Sinking deeper into the mattress, I prepare myself for another long day.
*
The warehouse looks liable to collapse. Even from a distance, I can see holes in the roof and rotted wood at the bottom where waves lap at the foundation. This seems like exactly the kind of place Siren would use as a hideout. Two fingers pull a black mask from my bra and press it to my face. A button inside the fabric switches my black hoodie and leggings into a full supersuit.
I resign myself to getting my feet wet.
The warehouse is dim, and I throw a ball of sparks in the air, where it follows my path. The surprisingly dry interior is illuminated suddenly by a purple glow, revealing… absolutely nothing. Of course, The Active Hero’s Association would send me on a wild goose chase at five-thirty in the morning. I haven’t even had coffee yet.
Still, it wouldn’t be wise to leave without doing a thorough search. Carefully, I pick my way through the rubble. Fallen boards and moss-covered stone dot my path, as well as the occasional nail. I pull the gun from my belt, just in case this old building is somehow a trap.
The warehouse has a surprising number of rooms on the far right, each with a minimal amount of furniture; a torn couch here, a dusty shelf there. Despite obvious disuse of these, the rooms themselves are remarkably clean. I’m sure a fair number of squatters have been here. But, so far, no proof of anything villain-level illegal. I’m about to leave a room with an empty desk when I spot something glowing beneath a floorboard.
Oh-so-carefully, I make my way over to the board. I look around and, after determining there is no one in the room, crouch down to investigate. I set my gun down by my foot and grab the floorboard, expecting to pry it up easily. It doesn’t lift, though, so I use my ball of sparks to have a look inside the crack.
Unsurprisingly, there is what looks to be an old burner phone lit up by an incoming call. It was probably left by a squatter. Villains don’t have uses for burner phones; they are almost always solitary. Still, the fact that the battery has yet to die puts me on edge. I reach for my gun.
My fingers wrap around air. Shit.
I roll onto my bottom to see none other than Siren standing above me, twirling my loaded gun around a long finger. Her bright blue suit makes her black hair stand out sharply.
“You really should keep better track of your toys, Stormy,” she says with a smirk. I bristle at the nickname.
“Yeah, well, I was a bit preoccupied.” I motion to the still-glowing crater. “What does someone like you need with a burner phone?” Siren’s grin stretches wider.
“As bait, of course. You’re quite predictable, you know, always forgetting to look up.” She pops the last syllable. I glance upwards to see the rafters I didn’t even think to check. Siren’s eyes follow mine. Perfect.
“And you forget to look down.” With that, I push myself forward and swing a leg out to catch Siren’s ankles. She gasps as she falls, hitting the wood with a wonderful smack as my gun slides across the floor. Quickly, I stand, leering over her with a ball of sparks in one hand. “I see you still have a little burn from our last encounter. At least you’ll be matching.”
But Siren dodges my attack, rolling to the side and standing fast as lightning. And so, another battle ensues.
I ball a fist and strike her in the jaw, watching sparks dance across her cheek. Siren rocks back in surprise, but quickly recovers and spits a mouthful of blood on my suit. Disgusting. My hand shoots out for another punch, but she sidesteps and grabs my arm, flinging me off balance. Before I know it, the moisture is pulled out of the air. I can feel it drying on my tongue.
Siren stands with a ball of water in one hand and a knife in the other. She flings the water at my face, temporarily blinding me while she lunges forward to slash at my arm. The cut stings, but not enough to stop me from grabbing her shoulder as she passes. I pull her back to me so close we almost knock heads.
Siren brings her water up to my face and, before I know it, my nose is filled with it. The water trickles down my throat, controlled by Siren’s steady hand. I choke and gasp for air, try to cough up the water, to no avail. Sparks ball in my fist as my vision blurs.
One slap across the face with a crackling palm is enough to break Siren’s concentration, and I choke out water onto the floor, gulping down air. Siren recovers quickly, but not fast enough. I wrench the knife from her outstretched hand and pull her shoulders so that I can slam her back to the wall, blade to throat.
~***~
“Had enough?” I growl, pressing the knife further into her throat. Siren flinches.
“Oh please,” she mocks breathlessly. “I know you aren’t going to kill me, Stormy.”
“You think you know me so well.”
“I know heroes have codes,” Siren whispers. “I also know it isn’t my neck you’re staring at.” Her cherry red lips curl into the slightest smirk, something I wouldn’t have even noticed had I not been paying such close attention to them. My face flushes red-hot, and I turn my chin away to hide it. The first of many mistakes.
Siren twists the knife out of my hand and flips our positions in a single fluid motion. Her laugh is like ice, piercing cold fear through my body. Villains don’t have codes. I could die here. But something about the way Siren grins gives me the feeling that isn’t what she has planned. My eyes catch her green ones.
“Such a shame,” Siren tuts. “You really are quite pretty.” One long finger trails my jaw, and I find my eyes wandering back to those full lips. My tongue pokes out to wet my own. If I’m going to die anyways…
I crush the butterflies in my stomach and force my eyes to stare into Siren’s. Did she move closer, or am I imagining things? But no, there it is again, Siren inches forward ever so slightly. Unintentionally, I do the same, until we are practically nose to nose. Our eyes meet, and the butterflies are back. What is wrong with me?
A strong yet soft hand comes to rest tentatively on my waist, and I shiver, closing my eyes. “Something wrong?” Siren teases. “You look a little red.” Her breath is hot on my lips. I lean forward just a bit more, and our noses touch, causing my eyes to fly open. We stay like that for what feels like hours, neither one wanting to move and risk breaking the little bubble we’ve created in an abandoned warehouse.
“Siren?”
“Yes, Stormy?” I forget what I wanted to say, so instead, I lean in slow as melting ice until my lips brush against hers. I wait. It doesn’t take long for Siren to copy my action, brushing her crooked smirk against my mouth. One pushes, the other pulls, lips dragging against each other more and more closely until…
I can’t take it anymore. I connect our lips, pouring all of my built-up desire into the kiss. I pull the gorgeous blonde close with both arms and mesh our bodies together. I relish in the shocked gasp that leaves the Siren’s mouth and falls into mine. What once was slow and tentative is now frenzied and desperate, on both ends.
Siren slips out her tongue, and I open my mouth, welcoming her inside. She swirls her tongue around mine and, dear Lord, hums into my mouth. My hands snake around her waist and pull her closer by the ass. Damn, this woman has a nice ass. But still,
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” My voice cracks. “There must be some sort of rule against it.”
“Like what?” Siren pants. “We’re hardly even doing anything yet.” Yet. The implication sends shivers down my spine, somehow making me want her even more.
“Besides,” Siren continues, “isn’t it kind of fun to break the rules for a change?” My breath catches in my throat. She isn’t exactly wrong; this feels so good. I let out a frustrated groan that Siren mistakes for a pleasurable one.
“Hm, you’re not nearly as perfect as everyone thinks you are, huh Stormy? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like being a little rebel sometimes. tsk tsk, dirty girl,” Siren clicks, and the moan that leaves my mouth this time is feral. I don’t even realize I’m grinding my hips against her thigh until she grabs my ass and guides my movements herself.
“I know you have your code, and you could get in a lot of trouble for this. But God, Storm, I’ve wanted you for so long.” Siren whispers breathily against the side of my face. “Can’t you make an exception, just this once?” I want to disagree, to tell her no, but then she’s planting tiny, open-mouthed kisses up my neck, and any morals I hold onto sink into the waves outside.
“The AHA will have my head for this,” I remind her, fighting to keep my voice steady. “Can we make a deal?” Siren nods her head against my neck, but doesn’t stop. The leather of her suit feels amazing as she continues to guide my hips back and forth on her thigh.
“If we do this,” I choke, “We need to have a peace treaty for five hours. No villain work for you, no hero work for me that involves you. And my mask is staying on.”
I feel Siren relax against me. “I can work with that. Deal. Can I please kiss you now?” I roll my eyes, but the tiniest smile works its way across my face. Its quickly wiped away when Siren crashes her lips into mine, just as deep and twice as hungry as before.
I reach a hand between us and press the button on my mask. Immediately, my super suit is replaced by black sweatpants and a hoody. I almost wish I was wearing something sexy. I pluck at the smooth leather of Siren’s suit. “Off.”
Siren laughs, but complies, pressing a spot on her own mask. The transition is so strange, leather to… skin. I realize I’m holding Siren’s bare waist. Unfortunately, she isn’t naked, just wearing a crop top and very short denim shorts. God, could she get any sexier? I’m suddenly very self-conscious of my outfit, but it doesn’t matter because Siren is pulling my sweatshirt up and over my head.
I run my hands over Siren’s tight abs and up her crop top to her breasts as she bites my lower lip. Of course she isn’t wearing a bra.
I run my hands over gloriously buttery skin, brushing my thumbs over hard nipples, and am suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to have them in my mouth. I push up, and Siren lifts her arms, letting me take off her shirt and toss it aside. The moan that leaves her mouth when I grab a nipple between my teeth sends pleasure rippling down to my core.
I wrap my lips around the pale skin and suck, pulling almost every bit of skin into my mouth before releasing and swirling my tongue around the hardened peak. Siren’s hands tangle in my hair, pulling me close. She unhooks my bra and pushes it down my arms. I let it fall to the floor. She pulls me away by the hair to get a look at my breasts.
“Shit, you’ve got nice tits,” she whispers, ducking down to give them the same treatment as I gave her’s.
My knees buckle at the sensation and a gasp leaves me, but Siren catches me and lowers us both gently to the ground.
Too gently.
I grab her face when my back hits wood and pull her close, kissing her with all the fire I feel. I flip us over so that we’re laying side by side and launch an attack on her neck.
“You’d better not mark me,” she groans. “Truce, remember? You can’t use this as a way to find my civilian persona.”
“The thought never even crossed my mind,” I admit truthfully. “I just want to taste you.” I kiss the crook of her neck, and she squirms. “Every part of you.” The lust in Siren’s eyes is animal.
I run a hand down her toned stomach, dipping a long finger into her waistband. Siren raises a knee onto my hip, unbuttons her own shorts impatiently, and guides my hand inside. I laugh at her desperation.
“What’s the magic word?” I taunt, refusing to let her hand push mine down any further.
“How old are you?” Siren snarls. I brush the lightest finger over her clit, and she squirms.
“I’m not going any further until you answer me,” I toy.
“Fine,” Siren huffs, then looks at me with a fake-pouting expression. “Pretty please?” The ravenous pleasure that rises in my chest scares me. I comply.
I gather Siren’s wetness with two fingers and use them to circle around her clit oh-so-slowly. She squirms, desperate for more pressure, but gets more that she expected when I push both fingers hard into her cunt. Cunt. The word sounds unnatural, even in my head.
Siren chokes back a yell when I crook two fingers inside her in a “come here” motion. I replace the empty area on her clit with my thumb, rubbing slow circles as my fingers pump her hard and fast.
“There!” Siren chokes out when I find her G-spot. “Right there. Please, Stormy, don’t stop.” I do as I’m told, pumping steadily and drawing slightly faster circles. Oh, how I wish I had my tongue inside her right now!
But it doesn’t matter, because this isn’t about me, and I can feel Siren’s hips rising. Her legs shake slightly, and her eyes squeeze shut.
“Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chokes. “God, Storm, I’m gonna come.” And just as she says it, her mouth opens in a perfect “O”, and her walls clench around my fingers, hot, wet, and tight. She looks caught in a scream.
I slow my fingers as she comes back down, panting and shaking slightly. When her eyes finally flutter open, Siren grabs my wrist and pulls it out of her pants, flinching when I brush against her swollen clit. She brings my hand to her face and I watch with wide eyes as she sucks her own juices off my two middle fingers.
“You look so freaking hot when you come,” I mutter. Siren chokes down a laugh, and I glare at her. “What?”
“Freaking?” Siren sniggers. “What are you, twelve? Wait- hey!” she yelps when I roll on top of her and press her shoulders down.
“Fine. You look..,” I kiss her neck as I whisper, “so..,” another kiss, “fucking hot. And I want to taste you so fucking bad.”
“Oh no, it’s my turn,” Siren announces, rolling us over and pinning my arms above my head in one fluid motion. I know I should be scared that my arch nemesis is on top of me. A tiny voice in the back of my head whispers that maybe it’s not as wrong to fuck a villain if I don’t let her reciprocate. I push the thought away because, as messed up as it is, I don’t care about morality nearly as much as I care what Siren’s tongue might feel like between my legs.
“Well, get on with it, then,” I mutter against Siren’s ear.
“With pleasure,” she groans, and the sound lights something inside me. I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to. Siren kisses me, hard. My hands are still pinned above my head by one of hers, but her other is busy, ravishing my body with long nails.
“I hope you know there’s no way in hell you’re putting those inside me,” I mutter against her lips. Siren just smirks, bringing her right hand up to show me that the nails on her middle and ring fingers are cut and filed while the others remain long. I roll my eyes because I have never seen something quite so gay.
“Carry on.”
And she does, kissing my lips once more, dirty as ever, before moving down my neck. Her kisses are hot and intense. She leaves wet spots across my clavicle before trailing her lips down the valley of my breasts. She places a chaste kiss to each one, but doesn’t waste any time at all before travelling down to my stomach. However, her hands serve as a replacement when she releases my wrists and grabs onto my tits.
Siren kisses, licks, and bites her way south deliberately. When she reaches the waistline of my leggings, she doesn’t hesitate to grab hold and pull them down. I raise my hips to aid her, hands still above my head for reasons I can’t explain.
As she struggles to remove my pants and underwear, I spare a moment to feel embarrassed that I’m wearing the equivalent of granny panties. Also, that they’re drenched.
The awkwardness dissolves, however, when I look down to see Siren’s eyes on mine. For a second, I think she might tease me like I did to her. Evidently, that isn’t her style. Siren licks a firm stripe up my slit, closing her lips around my clit for a second at the end and, holy hell, hums into me.
“Oh my God.” The phrase is somewhere between an incredulous laugh and a desire-filled moan. Siren smirks up to me in the most evil way, and I have to look away. Maybe if I don’t look at her, I can pretend she isn’t my nemesis.
“Eyes on me.” Jesus fucking Christ.
My eyes snap back to hers, and the full realization of what I’m doing hits me. A supervillain is eating me out. And I fucking love it. If I’m honest with myself, the immorality of it all is making me so hot. I should feel guilty for the realization. Instead, I thread my fingers through Siren’s hair and grind myself hard into her face.
I can feel my thighs starting to shake around Siren’s head as I grow closer and closer to orgasm. I’m right on the edge, my hands clenched in her hair, when the bitch slows down.
“What the hell?” I whine, unable to control the neediness in my voice. Siren licks another firm stripe up my slit. She continues, but much slower, never once touching the place I need her most.
“Your turn.”
“My turn what?”
“Beg me.”
“Excuse me?” I bristle, but my anger melts to something akin to desperation when the damn psycho barely trails across my clit.
“You heard me,” Siren declares. “beg me.”
“Not on your life,” I growl through clenched teeth, glaring daggers at my enemy. “I’ll never beg a villain.”
“But you’ll fuck one?” Siren drags two fingers through my pussy, and I almost loose it. I grit my teeth.
“Please,” I growl.
“Come on, Stormy,” she taunts. “You can do better than that. Tell me you want me to lick your cunt until you can’t take any more.” The fury in my eyes is a spark compared with the fire in my core, urging me to do as she says. I take a deep breath, choking when her fingers apply pressure to my entrance.
“That’s it, sugar,” Siren whispers, and it sounds more like encouragement than force. “Tell me what you want. Take from me what you need.” That’s the final straw that has me clenching my fists in her hair.
“Please, Siren,” I beg. “Please, fuck me. Please, make me come.” Siren doesn’t speak, just flashes me a wicked smile and finally, finally gives me what I need. She slams two fingers deep into my cunt, pumping hard and fast while her tongue does truly unspeakable things to my clit. It takes mere seconds before I’m on the edge again, the knot in my stomach growing unbearable.
“Fuck, please, Siren..,” I cry out. “Please, please, please…” She’s giving me what I asked for, but the extra encouragement seems to be increasing her hunger for me. I make eye contact with her once again, denim-clad ass in the air, fingers and tongue buried in my heat. That’s what does it.
I shout obscenities to the rafters, shaking and pulling hair and grinding my hips into my enemy as the most explosive orgasm I’ve ever felt courses through me. Wave after beautiful wave of pleasure crest and crash, crest and crash, again and again until I have to push Siren’s head away from my sex.
Siren lifts her head from between my legs and grins at me before wiping my essence off her face with her arm. She crawls her way lazily up my body and kisses my quivering lips. I can taste myself on her, sweet and slightly bitter with a tingling afterfeel. I think dazedly that it may be my electrical powers. Siren wraps her arms around my head and tucks her face into my neck.
“I feel like I need to redeem myself,” I mutter. The orgasm I gave Siren wasn’t nearly as good as the one she gave me. Still, she laughs.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she sighs into my skin. “I love making you feel good. It’s so hot.” My eyes soften as I look at her long black hair. This woman.
“We should get going, you know,” I say. “Make the most of this grace period we agreed on.”
“I forgot about that,” Siren grumbles, pushing herself off me. I mourn the loss of her heat. She presses the button on her mask, clothing herself instantly before gathering her crop top from the floor. For a moment, I think she’s just going to leave me here alone on the ground.
But then, this stunning woman comes over to me and offers her hand. I take it, and she pulls me to my feet. I stumble into her. She kisses me, soft and dream-like, wrapping her arms around my waist as I drape my own over her shoulders. Siren connects our foreheads. I close my eyes.
“Meet me in two days, top of the abandoned building near Green Street,” she whispers. “Midnight.” And then, she’s gone, slipped away into the morning waves. I smile and shake my head.
This girl is going to be the end of me… but maybe that isn’t so bad.