Chapter Text
~Thursday, June 11th, 2020~
~Taylor~
My collapsible baton cracks against the side of the security guard’s knee. Well, that’s not quite true. It would’ve, if sound wasn’t being suppressed in here.
It’s always a little eerie, being in a room in complete silence. And not the kind of silence you get from a quiet day in a park.
Short of an anechoic chamber, there’s always something. Little noises that disrupt the opportunity for it.
The rustling of wind through tree branches.
The crunch of gravel underfoot.
The tinnitus from having listened to music too loud, too long when I was a kid.
Even the blood flowing through you when it gets really quiet.
But never utter silence.
The rest of the Band are used to it at this point, but it always disorients people when a room goes completely silent.
Take the head of security on the ground in front of me. He’s a smart cookie. Noticed something immediately when the high-pitched whine of the CRT monitors on the security station desk ceased. Must have pretty good hearing, if he can still notice it at his age.
Not everyone is so lucky.
Not that it saved him, I was still on him before he could turn around. Another whack to the wrist and he drops his gun. I kick it off to the side and collapse my baton, stowing it on my belt, then I roll him over and zip-cuff his wrists and ankles.
“Head of security down,” I induce in the ear-peaces of the rest of the Band, snatching up the radio from his body.
Lockdown was particularly proud of them when he created them. Fully encrypted short- and long-range communication, the encryption a Tinker-tech creation of his using radioactive decay for randomisation.
A little over my head, but I commended him for it nonetheless, since he added a mechanism that lets me manually control sound production through them.
Sub-vocalisations stream in from the rest in reply.
“Affirmative, Earache.” Brian, or Braid. Ever the professional.
“Aye aye, Cap’n.” Aisha and Alec, or Meld and Lockdown. Ever the jokesters.
“Got it, sweetie.” Lisa, or Doppelgänger, the lovable pain in my ass. Aisha and Alec both make obnoxious kissy noises. I definitely don’t roll my eyes.
Just a grunt from Rachel, or Grudgematch, a woman of few words.
“Alright everyone, you know the drill. Head to your targets, I’m on over-watch.” I start flipping through the cameras to get a mental map going of the pair of floors we’re operating on. Building blueprints can only take you so far.
Lockdown and Grudgematch are approaching the server room on the lower floor.
Doppelgänger and Meld are heading for the CEO’s office on the upper floor, the same floor I’m on.
Braid is prepping our escape route, also on the lower floor.
“Lockdown, Grudgematch, hold up a sec. You’ve got a security guard approaching from the south. I’ll divert him towards Braid.”
I quickly search around the room and find the duty roster, scanning for names and patrol sectors. “Lopez, I think I saw something in sector E26, can you take a look? Over,” I transmit the sound through the HoS’s radio. No sense trying to simulate radio degradation on top of attempting to duplicate his voice when I have a perfectly good radio right here.
“Sure, Davis. Heading there now, over.”
“Wait fifteen seconds then proceed to the target.” Another grunt of affirmation, this time from Lockdown and Grudgematch both.
Paracord snakes through the dark as the security guard turns the corner. The paracord snaps out, ensnaring her and pulling her towards Braid.
I cut off her cries of surprise, as well as the thump as her body hits the ground.
Braid stashes her in a nearby cubicle, gagging her so I don’t need to maintain her silence.
I switch the display over, just as Meld slips through the door of the CEO’s office, unlocking it and letting Doppelgänger in. They prop the doors open so I can get a good look through the camera.
Meld starts feeling around the room and pulling any paintings down. She’s looking for a safe hidden in one of the walls, sinking her hand through the wall every so often until she feels resistance.
Doppelgänger shimmers, her appearance turning into that of the CEO of the corp we’re targeting, and sits down at the computer. She wakes it up and closes her eyes, letting herself fall into muscle memory to type out the password.
“Found the safe,” Meld says, carefully prying a section of the wall away.
“Over in a sec,” Doppelgänger replies, plugging one of Lockdown’s devices into a USB port. She gets up from the chair and walks over to Meld and the safe.
Backing out of the room, I double check that no-one is coming near the office and leave the pair to their job.
Lockdown is crouched at server-room door, tapping away at a portable keyboard attached to his left forearm. A cable leads from the keyboard to a small black box jutting out of the wall, the cover having been pried off, the red LED underneath now fully visible.
Grudgematch stands off to the side, scanning the halls.
A beep that I contain to only the area around the two of them gathers her attention. She turns and enters the server room after Lockdown, and they head to one of the racks.
Back to the CEO’s office, Meld is packing files into Doppelgänger’s backpack.
Once she finishes, she turns and imbues herself with the metal of the safe, then closes it and replaces the wall segment, while Doppelgänger pulls Lockdown’s device and locks the computer.
The both of them start putting paintings back up.
“Targets acquired, honey. We’re heading to Braid.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I’ve tried my best to get Doppelgänger to stick to comms protocol, but the rest of the Band have too much fun with their ribbing to reinforce my efforts. Fortunately, it hasn’t affected our success, so I let it slide.
“Copy. Lockdown and Grudgematch have found their server and are nearly done. I’m going eyes dark. I’ll link up with you shortly.” I scan over the security office and find a small closet. Inside is a dual analog-digital recording server hooked up to the camera system.
I plug in one of Lockdown’s other devices, and a short moment later it starts flashing and sparking. The server goes dark, smoke spilling from various orifices.
I retrieve the burnt out remains of the device, stashing it in a pouch on my vest, then I toss the HoS’s radio back to his body and retreat from the security office, heading down the hall.
I turn the corner and spot Meld and Doppelgänger, just as another security guard turns the opposite corner.
I break into a dash, and the other two flatten themselves on either the wall or an adjacent cubicle as my long legs eat up the distance.
The security guard has his gun drawn and leveled at me.
Out comes my baton, and just as he’s about to pull the trigger, I vibrate his inner ears, making him stagger and discharge the weapon inaudibly into the ceiling.
My baton impacts his jaw and he slumps.
I kick the gun back towards Doppelgänger, who picks it up and deftly disassembles it, tossing the parts around the office. More zip-cuffs immobilise the guard on the ground, and I turn back towards the pair.
Doppelgänger is fanning herself exaggeratedly.
I plant my hands on my hips and cock my head.
The two of them just giggle, only audible to the three of us, and turn to head towards the stairwell.
I grind my teeth slightly. I should’ve noticed that security guard approaching and warned them off. He must have started heading to the security office when the HoS didn’t respond to a check in or something.
Too sloppy.
I catch up with Doppelgänger and Meld just as Lockdown chimes in with an update.
“We got the dough, Cap’n. Linking up with Braid.”
“Children, I swear,” I induce, drawing snickers from the three of them. Brian also huffs in amusement, much to my chagrin. At least I can count on Rachel to maintain what’s left of my dignity.
We only run into one more security guard — that we manage to get the drop on this time — on the way to Braid. To one of the structural pillars in the cubicle area he’s in, Braid has tied a paracord each for us to rappel down from.
Lockdown and Grudgematch are already waiting near a window that’s been propped open.
“Good job, everyone. Let’s get the hell out of dodge.”
Grudgematch and Doppelgänger head out first, attaching to the paracord and descending out of view.
Next up, Meld and Lockdown attach. The latter sends me a lazy salute just as he dips below the edge of the floor.
I massage my temples.
I glance at Braid, who seems to be trying and failing to contain his mirth. Well, that’s enough of that. I attach to my own paracord and don’t spare Braid another glance as I climb out of the window and begin my descent.
Twenty-five floors later, I detach from the paracord and climb into the van we stashed in the alley. I’m handed my disguise, an exterminator’s jumpsuit and matching hat. I pull off my vest, gloves and boots, and pull the jumpsuit on over-top of my catsuit and belt.
Doppelgänger in her infinite wisdom, managed to sell me on wearing catsuits during our heists, noting the superior comfort and mobility. Knowing her better now, she had entirely lurid motives. I suppose I should’ve noticed that the two of us were the only ones that switched.
Not that I mind the ego boost and the eye-candy.
The gloves and boots come back on, and I climb into the passenger seat next to a similarly disguised Doppelgänger. We both pull off our bandanas and put on the hats, pulling our ponytails through the holes in the back.
Lisa puts the van in gear and pulls out of the alley.
I glance back at the rest of the Band, who have stripped off bits of their gear too bulky to fit underneath their casual clothes, and have put on said casual clothes. The gear is packed into spare backpacks for those of us without one as part of our standard load-out.
“Think these ones will be stupid enough to try to stiff us, Boss?” Aisha asks, grinning up at me from the back.
“I almost wish they would. It’s always a riot to see Taylor go all ‘vomit comet’ on ‘em,” Alec chimes in.
I huff, “I suppose we’ll have to see. It’s not like we have a reputation for brutal retribution when we don’t get paid, or anything.”
“Greed and mercenary clients, name a better duo,” Lisa adds, glancing at me with a wry smirk.
I snicker and settle in for the drive to the rendezvous location.
“Dominoes on, people, we’re here,” Lisa announces as we slow down near our destination.
We all do as she says, though I only do so grudgingly. I hate having to bother with mouth movements, but Lisa says it creeps people out when I talk without them. I tend to wear a lot of scarves as a result, which is convenient since, when we’re ‘on tour’ I’m seen as the enigmatic, inscrutable member of the Band.
A little ironic for the singer, the ostensible face of the band.
Lisa reverses the van into the vacant lot in case we need a swift departure, and I’m the first one out. Once Lisa walks up to stand at my side, the rest of the Band pops out of the back of the van.
We rehearsed this part quite a bit to get the proper effect. A little bit of pomp and circumstance is good for the soul, I say.
We advance as one further into the lot, towards a gathering of people, silhouetted by a pair of vans with their headlights on.
Something twigs my brain about the foremost figure. Her posture seems familiar, and as soon as the lights turn off, it clicks.
“Now, what are New Wave of all people doing aaall the way in Chicago, hiring a team known for industrial espionage?” I narrow my eyes and cock my head, flashing a toothsome grin. The rest of the Band tense for a fight.
I remain relaxed, in control. Can’t let them think they’ve put us on the back foot, somehow.
“I thought y’all were all about openness and accountability in capes. Has there been a shift in morals, perhaps?” I do a quick sonar ping in the backs of the vans while I’m talking. No extra surprises, just three additional cases, similar to the one that the second figure is holding.
Brandish lets out a growl, but a hand from Lady Photon next to her stays her anger. “With all due respect, we’re not here for character judgments. That’s not what we’re paying you for, so shall we get on to what we are?”
That’s new, Brandish is wearing an eye-patch.
I nod, content not to prod further. Lisa and I approach, and Lady Photon — nearly called her Photon Mom in my head; she never could live that nickname down — hands the case she’s holding to Lisa.
Lisa opens the case, and while she counts, I get a proper look at who we’re dealing with. Flashbang, Shielder, and... Glory Girl? Well, Antares now, I suppose. I guess she must have reconciled with her family after the New Wave Incident.
“You’re kidding, right?” Lisa says, closing the case with a snap, and looking up with a scowl. “This is a quarter of what we agreed on.”
I sigh, “I thought our reputation would have prevented this sort of thing by now.”
“W-what do you me-” I cut Brandish off before she can finish.
All of the present members of New Wave succumb to something akin to vertigo, turned up to eleven. Lisa and I quickly step back while they all keel over and void their stomachs, careful not to let any of it splash onto us.
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to clean vomit off of my boots, and I’m in no hurry to relive the experience.
I squat down to the two women kneeling before us. “Whoever referred us to you did a poor job of it, though it has been a few years since our last encounter, so I suppose you might not remember just who we are. This little ditty was just the appetiser. Care to continue to treat us like idiots and find out what the main course is like?”
I hear Antares gasp out near the vans, “Earache!”
Brandish spits in my face, hitting my cheek. I manage not to flinch, and it requires a herculean test of will not to kick her teeth in. She certainly deserves it at this point.
“Wait wait wait wait wait! Please, just… wait.” It seems Lady Photon understands the gravity of the situation. Good for her. “I will be having words with my sister about this when we’re done. Cards on the table, you’re right, we hadn’t realised that you were the same Earache’s crew from all those years ago, and made an error in judgment. We should have had all of the cases out for your arrival. We just wanted to verify that you acquired everything we asked for before handing over the rest of your payment.”
I turn back to Brandish. “Now was that so hard? Do be a dear and be thorough in any referrals you give. I might have to stop being so polite if these sorts of situations keep popping up.”
I stand back up and let them compose themselves. “Lockdown, you’re up.”
Alec approaches, and Shielder pulls a laptop from one of the vans, approaching as well.
Alec hands over the case containing everything we absconded with.
Shielder plugs the flash drive into his laptop, while the New Wave sisters go over the contents of the folder.
“You owe me twenty bucks, Brian,” Aisha sub-vocalises.
“It’s a shame, that turned into a sucker’s bet as soon as we found out it was New Wave we were dealing with,” I reply in the Band’s heads.
“Yeah, I know,” Brian lets out dejectedly, “I bet they even got the referral from Faultline. She’d jump at another opportunity to fuck with us.”
“Ugh, for how smart she plays at being, surely she understands that she’s only feeding us opportunities to further cement our reputation, right?”
“She also plays at being a woman that doesn’t get jealous, and yet…,” Rachel chimes in, her ‘speaking once in a blue moon’ quota filled.
I’m only joking, it’s twice.
I almost bark out a laugh, a hair’s breadth from breaking my composure, and I notice Lisa has a hand in front of her mouth, likely for similar reasons. Fortunately, we’re saved by Lady Photon signaling Flashbang, whose carrying the remaining three cases. It seems they finished going over the material while I was distracted.
“Everything we requested is here, so feel free to check over each case. We don’t want there to be any further misunderstandings,” Lady Photon says. I wave a hand over my shoulder, and Brian approaches, grabbing one of the cases. Alec grabs the second. Lisa hands me the case she was holding and grabs the third.
Three sub-vocalised ‘Green’s report to me, and I nod. “Barring the rocky start, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you,” I say, to the euphoric sound of three cases snapping closed.
We’re about to turn and head back to our van, when Antares repeats my code-name, fully voiced this time. I hold up a fist and turn my head in acknowledgment. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” she asks, her voice a bit huskier than I remember it being back when we lived in Brockton Bay.
I shrug and pass the case I’m holding to Rachel. To the whole Band, I induce, “get loaded up and ready to go, I’ll only be a moment.”
Lisa snorts, then sub-vocalises, “fine, but if Collateral-Damage Barbie tries anything, I’ll never let you hear the end of it~”
I ignore her and step off to the side, where Antares has hovered off away from her family.
“Alright, I’m not gonna mince words. I want you to help me find my sister,” she states. She crosses her arms, her biceps straining against her gold-trimmed black jacket.
The years haven’t been the most kind to her, stress lining her face more prominently than would be typical for someone in their late twenties, but that’s partially our fault. We did kind of destroy her family’s reputation.
I raise my hands defensively, “sorry to break it to you, A, but she specifically paid us to help her disappear. I know it may be strange for us to care about integrity, being mercenaries and all, but we wouldn’t be doing our job if we went back on that.”
“No, I get it, you survive on your reputation. You wouldn’t last very long if you sold people out indiscriminately.” The blonde’s shoulders slump, and her hands drop to her sides, to then slide into her jacket pockets, “there’s really nothing I could pay you to just… point me in the right direction?”
I tap my chin with a finger and narrow my eyes. It could pay off later to keep ourselves in the good graces of a hero like Antares. You never know when you might need that level of firepower.
“Tell you what. Favour for a favour. If,” I hold up an index finger for emphasis, “I see Amy while we’re in the Bay, I will tell her you want to see her. Then it will be up to her to initiate contact, if she wants to. I’m even feeling generous today. If she doesn’t want to see you, then you owe us nothing.”
She exhales sharply, an amused sound. “And what constitutes a favour in your eyes?” she asks, cocking her head.
“Oh, nothing illegal. I wouldn’t ask you to assist us with the meat of our jobs, but sometimes we need a little bit of extra oomph that Grudgematch can’t handle by herself. Let’s say we’re on a job that involves one of the gangs and shit hits the fan. Would you be willing to help pull us out of the fire, that sort of thing?”
She raises an eyebrow. “You’ll really tell her I’m looking for her? How do I know you’re not lying?”
I hold up my pinkie with a wry smirk. Lisa’s been rubbing off on me. “You’ll just have to trust me. I am your only lead on her whereabouts, aren’t I?”
The blonde groans, but reaches out and hooks her pinkie with my own. She let’s go, and I spin around and start heading back to the Band. From behind me, she calls, “was that stunt earlier really necessary? We just had dinner.”
I turn around so that I’m walking backwards and spread my arms wide. All I say in reply is, “reputation is everything, in my line of work.”
As I arrive at the van, I catch a whisper from Shielder to Photon Mom — dammit. “Eugh, that non-verbal communication is fuckin’ spooky. It’s like Earache is Mastering the rest of them.” I can’t help the unbridled joy as they confirm the effect of all of our hard work and practice. I make sure to transmit what I heard to the rest of the Band so they can share in the feeling.
I pull the passenger seat door open and slide into the seat.
Lisa tried to make us alternate who drives, her reasoning being that it would help my head not get too big from being the boss.
I only drove once before she decided to nix that idea.
I decide to have a little fun before we depart, and, as a disembodied voice in the center of New Wave, I say, “I’m not Mastering anybody. We’re just that good.” Shielder let’s out a yelp, and we all collectively bust out laughing.
As soon as we move out of sight I silence our van, and Lisa begins the circuitous and intentionally confusing route back to the hotel. I wouldn’t put it past a team of heroes with morals as black-and-white as theirs to attempt to kill two birds with one stone. Taking out a team of capes they likely deem villainous and getting the information they were after without having to pay for it seems right up their alley.
Fortunately, with a little bit of audio-based spying, I note that their vans just head for the edge of the city, Antares flying over-watch above.
“We’re almost in the clear. Going to do a sweep of our surroundings and then we can head back,” I say, sinking lower in my seat and leaning my head back.
I close my eyes and start scanning around us, searching for anybody that might be tailing us on the down low. It pays to be cautious, and stealing from large corporations certainly gives us a reason to be.
One group almost piques my interest, but a closer listen reveals that they’re just a group of friends in the thick of TTRPG night. What a coincidence that they’re playing a heist game the same night we have a job.
I finish the sweep and shoot Lisa a thumbs up. Everyone audibly relaxes, and Lisa reaches a hand across to me. I pull off a glove and take it in my own, entangling our fingers.
“Couldn’t’ve done it without you, hon,” Lisa says, only audible to me. “We’d be flying blind without Big Sister looking over our shoulders.”
I groan lightly, “Please don’t call me that. It’d be fine if it was one of the others saying it, but the pseudo-incest thing does not do it for me.”
I idly trace my thumb on the back of her hand in nonsense shapes as she continues, “Sorry, just can’t help myself sometimes.”
“Yeah, you and everyone else.”
“All joking aside, we only made it to the big leagues because of you. Until you joined, we were just petty thieves robbing jewelry stores and the like. Now we have a reputation. And we get to be a nationally touring band as our cover? Couldn’t’ve asked for a better outcome.”
“Heh, I don’t miss those days. It was like herding cats, and now we’re a, mostly, well-oiled machine.”
“It still warms my heart when I remember how you got us out from under Coil’s thumb." There’s a nostalgic tone to her voice that feels like it would fit more with the memory of a childhood trip to an amusement park, rather than me destroying a man’s sanity and having him committed.
He was a creep that deserved it, though.
“Hey, the hotel’s in range,” Lisa says, changing the subject.
“Alright, thanks.” I send out a few exploratory pings before I find Charlotte. “Job’s done, do you have the drop off for Number Man set up?”
“Yup,” She chirps happily from her and Brian’s room at the hotel, “I’ll meet you out front and take the van."
I don’t exactly remember when they got together, but being in close proximity for long stretches of time breeds familiarity, and familiarity apparently breeds... Charlotte and Brian.
Charlotte was someone I went to school with. She was almost as low on the social totem poll as I was. When I gave her the chance to get out of Brockton Bay, she jumped on it in only the way a Jewish girl in a city full of Nazis could.
Her cover is as the Band’s makeup artist. She was hesitant at first, but it’s amazing what you can discover about yourself when not being ground down beneath the boots of poverty and Nazis. Lisa had to help her with the basics at first, but she quickly took to it like a fish to water.
When not doing that, she handles the back end of our illicit enterprise. Making payment drop-offs, handling Tinker material and mundane gear acquisitions, and being the go-between for client meetings we can’t attend. The odd time we’ve had to deal with Faultline, Charlotte has gone in our place so that Lisa and the other Mercenary leader don’t kill each-other.
Lisa pulls the van up in front of the hotel and, sure enough, waiting out front is a short woman with dark hair and fair skin. She hops out of the van as she approaches, and Charlotte trades places with her.
“You’re a doll, Char,” Lisa says. I hop out as the others clamber from the back of the van. Charlotte sends us a mock salute and then the van pulls away. She’s been spending too much time with Alec and Aisha.
Lisa grabs my hand and pulls me inside, ahead of the others and straight to an elevator, ignoring the ever-present snickers of the peanut gallery. The doors open and she hits the button for floor three.
Lisa always gets Sierra, the Band’s agent and PR manager, to get us a room on a separate floor from the others since she likes her privacy. Knowing them as well as I do now, I can’t help but agree.
It doesn’t stop them from attempting to mess with us, but the degree of separation curbs the worst of it.
We enter our room and the disguises barely even hit the floor before Lisa pounces. I’m pressed up against the door, one hand tangling up in my hair on the back of my head, the other reaching for the zipper at the back of my catsuit.
My eyes flutter closed as she uses her hold to pull me into a searing kiss. I’m engulfed by the scent of lavender and sweat. I shake off my remaining glove, then settle my hands on her waist.
I chuckle into her mouth, though it’s more of a crackly exhalation through what remains of my vocal chords. “Ohoho, somebody’s eager.”
In response, she tightens her grip on my hair, drawing a gasp out of me, and my fingers dig involuntarily into flexible fabric. She breaks the kiss, and heavily dilated eyes stare into mine.
It’s a little intimidating.
“What can I say? Seeing you in your element just does it for me,” she replies, the zipper in her hand catching on my belt. I quickly unbuckle it and let it fall to the floor, and the zipper descends the rest of the way. “You seem to know exactly how to push my buttons, even when you’re not trying to.”
I let go of her so she can pull me out of the top half of my catsuit, and then I hiss as she gropes my left breast through my sports bra and starts kissing and suckling on the right side of my neck. One more point towards wearing scarves, nobody finds out how much Lisa likes to leave hickeys behind.
“Hmm, does someone have a fetish for competency, perhaps?” I muse, despite my laboured breathing.
“Not being able to shut you up the normal way is so unfair," she says, ignoring my question, “luckily, I know just the thing.”
With a wink and a grin Lisa kneels down, helping me out of my boots and pulling my catsuit the rest of the way off. She stands back up and grabs my hand, pulling me deeper into the room. I can’t help but notice the sway of hips outlined in Lycra.
I immediately flush when she turns around, no doubt catching me admiring her, and her grin just grows wider. With a gentle shove, I fall back and admire Lisa further as she straddles me.
It starts to become clear that she had been planning to do this from the beginning of the night when she, agonizingly slowly, unzips her catsuit. First, she reveals a bra-less chest, then a neatly-trimmed bush of dirty-blonde hair. She prefers the zipper in the front for this exact reason.
Like I said before. Eye-candy.
“Happy birthday, Tay,” she says, leaning forward a bit and planting her hands on my stomach. With an alluring wiggle, she brings her shoulders forward and squeezes her breasts together in a way that makes me flush even further.
I sneak a quick glance at the clock and sure enough, it just ticked over to twelve-oh-one.
Helluva birthday present.
Lisa grabs my jaw and brings my gaze back to hers, capturing my lips in another kiss. She lowers herself down to grind on the bulge in my compression shorts, and at the same time, bites down on my lower lip, tugging on it lightly.
I reflexively buck into her hips, and a whine spills out of me to bounce around the room. It took me a while to confine myself to a specific room when my control over my power starts slipping like this. Lisa certainly enjoys testing my limits as thoroughly as she can when the opportunity presents itself.
“Oh Tay, you make such delicious sounds when you’re like this,” Lisa purrs in my ear while she redoubles her efforts.
Another whine escapes and my breathing is getting heavier, but I manage to pull a squeal from her when I grab her ass with both hands and dig my fingers into her cheeks.
“Two can play at that game,” she says, tugging my sports bra up. I lift my arms so she can get it all the way off, and I resist the reflex to cover my chest, leaving my hands above my head. Lisa worked hard at building up my self esteem from where it was in high-school, so who am I to deny her that which she desires, meagre endowment as it is?
Judging by the way she’s looking at me, that was the correct choice, and my flush deepens to the top of my breasts.
She starts peppering kisses around my chest, making me squirm and huff. She then takes my left nipple in her mouth and toys with it with the tip of her tongue. She takes the right between finger and thumb, and pinches and tugs, eliciting a similar squeal, though I finesse it into sounding like it’s happening in both of her ears, and I feel her shudder slightly on top of me.
My erection is starting to strain just on the edge of painfully against my compression shorts, and so I pull Lisa up for a quick kiss and start to pull off her catsuit. “I’ve had enough of the teasing, love,” I say, pitching my voice down a bit and adding a growled edge. She shudders again and eagerly complies, helping me shimmy her out of it.
I don’t pay much attention to where it ends up, as I’m busy drinking in the beauty atop me like a woman stranded in a desert. Now it’s her turn to blush heavily, the red spreading to meet the smattering of freckles across the top of her perky breasts.
She reaches up to undo her ponytail and said breasts sway tantalisingly as she shakes her hair out, a waterfall of gold cascading down her slim, freckled shoulders.
I bite my lip as a smile tugs at the corners of my mouth.
“Mmm, I never get tired of that view," I send out as a whisper right next to her ear.
The look she gives me holds a hint of danger, and it sends a pleasant tingle up my spine.
Lisa reaches forward and grasps the hair tie holding my own hair in a ponytail and I turn my head so she can pull it out. She runs her fingers through my hair a few times, fanning it out around my head in a halo of black curls.
She then walks forward on her knees until I’m staring up at her glistening core, heat radiating from it. The musk is like nothing else, so undeniably her that it’s difficult to describe, and I can’t get enough.
“Well?” she says, looking down at me through the valley on her chest, “we don’t have all night.” There’s no heat to Lisa’s words, so I roll my eyes playfully at her.
I steal one more admiring look, then I stick out my tongue, flatten it, and drag it languidly along her lips from base to clitoris. Due to her meticulous hygiene, the taste is fairly neutral, but similar to her smell, it’s unmistakably Lisa.
She let’s out a groan that vibrates through her chest and all the way down into my tongue. It turns into a high moan as, at the end my tongue’s travel, I flick her clitoris lightly with the tip.
She plants one hand on the bed above my head, curling the fingers of the other among my hair.
I twitch in my compression shorts, and the strain is becoming unbearable, so, while I make another flat-tongued pass, I reach down and pull them off. My erection flops out against my stomach audibly and, once the wave of pleasure passes through Lisa, she glances back at the noise.
I seize the distraction and wrap one hand around her thigh, the middle finger of the other probing at Lisa’s entrance. I place a wet kiss on the inside of each thigh, then latch on to her clitoris with my mouth. She yelps in surprise, tightening her grip in my hair.
Using her now full-throated moans to gauge response, I apply varying amounts of pressure with my tongue to her clit, pressing the advantage, metaphorically and literally.
“You know, the sounds you make aren’t half bad either,” I say in a sensual whisper right behind her right ear.
She doesn’t have the wherewithal to do much more than moan and cry out my name, though in response to my whisper, she mumbles something approximating me being a ‘cheating cheater who cheats.’
A quick glance up shows her face haloed in gold, her eyes heavily lidded and unfocused. Her mouth hangs open, and there’s a little bit of drool beginning to spill out.
I continue my attack by slipping my middle finger into her slick entrance, which she promptly clenches down on. She starts tugging slightly on my hair in response, and the mix of pleasure and pain causes me to pause my ministrations for a moment.
It recedes to the background and let’s me continue, though she throws in more tugs here and there, drawing moans from me to bounce around the room as they usually do.
My ring fingers follows the middle, with little resistance, and Lisa starts grinding on my face.
“F-fuck Tay, I’m so close, don’t… don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Lisa gasps out, her breath coming out in heavy pants between moans.
Not being one to disappoint a hot woman riding my face, I do as she asks. I curl my fingers against her warm interior walls, finding the spot that makes her buck the hardest. I then find juuust the right pressure and rhythm until her arms are shaking and she’s barely capable of keeping herself upright.
I start doing the ‘trace a person’s name out with your tongue on their clitoris’ trick, and only get to the I before she stutters out, “g-g-gonna c-cum.”
Well, time for the coup de grâce.
“Then be a good girl and cum for me.” I make it a purr right up in both ears, and she doesn’t disappoint. She clamps down hard on my fingers as her abdominal muscles spasm rhythmically. Her arms fail her and she collapses above me, still straddling my head.
She rides out the waves of pleasure, and I can feel her coming down, the spasms slowing in frequency. Before she can climb off of me, my fingers slide free of her and I wrap my now-free hand around her other thigh. I get ready to hold her in place, then I flatten my tongue out and give her clitoris even, heavy pressure while I suck on it. She inhales sharply and lets out a shuddering breath as I do all I can to prolong her orgasm.
Once Lisa’s breathing evens out, I let up on the pressure and let go of her thighs. She slumps bonelessly off to one side.
I crawl up next to her and drape an arm, the one with the clean hand, over her to pull her into a light embrace. Her chest heaves with each breath, and her skin glistens with sweat.
“Lisa?” I whisper out normally, though this isn’t in public so my mouth doesn’t move.
She glances at me, gaze slightly more focused. I bring up the my other hand, fingers still covered in her juices. I gesture it towards her and raise an eyebrow.
She shakes her head, scrunching up her nose adorably. I shrug, then I stick the slick-covered fingers in my mouth, licking them clean. They taste like her, something I doubt I’ll ever tire of.
They leave my mouth with a pop and, when I glance back over at Lisa, there’s a faint dusting of pink on her cheeks, and then she breaks out into a weak giggle. I follow suit, glad to have brought some levity to the situation.
“How’re you feeling?” I ask, snuggling in closer. She shuffles onto her side to face me, staring into my eyes. This close I can see all of the little intricacies present in her bottle-glass greens.
“Like my whole body’s been wrung out.” I glide my hand lightly up and down her side, luxuriating in the feeling of soft skin against my fingertips. “We still need to shower before bed, y’know? And now my legs probably don’t even work.”
I snort, one of the few sounds I can physically make instead of using my power. I break into a, frankly, goofy grin when she pouts at me. “We do have a solution to that, I can just hold you up in the shower.”
I turn to get up from the bed, but her hand shoots out to grip my shoulder, and I sink back down.
“W-… what about you?” She asks, more hesitant than I can ever remember her being.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you took care of me, and it’s supposed to be your birthday and we didn’t take care of you.”
I smile fondly at her, and bring a hand up to caress her cheek. “It’s fine, Lise, really. I’m capable of giving pleasure and not needing reciprocation every time. If it bothers you that much, you can make it up to me once we land in Brockton Bay. Need I remind you that we do have a flight to get to tomorrow morning?” I plant a quick, tender kiss on her lips. “C’mon, we’ll take a quick shower together and then snuggle up for bed.”
I move to the edge of the bed, and Lisa attempts to follow, her arms still a little shaky. When she tries to stand, she immediately starts to collapse. I catch her and she giggles, “heh, jelly legs.”
I snort and shake my head, then scoop her up into a princess carry and move to the bathroom. A body shower and quick rinse of my hair — it’s not shampoo day — and the same for Lisa, and we’re cozied up in our pyjamas.
Hers have little foxes all over them, while mine have ears for obvious reasons. Where she found them I have no idea, and she still chuckles every time I wear them. They are comfy though, and Lisa bought them for me, so it’s not like I wouldn’t wear them.
Lying in bed under the covers, Lisa the little spoon, a pillow held to her chest, she’s already drifting off. “G’night, Tay. Love you,” she mumbles out, barely audible.
I doubt she’s even awake to hear me but I say it anyway, “love you too, Lisa.”