– Vicky –
Vicky sprawled across the couch, legs draped over the armrest, her phone resting idle on her stomach. Amy sat primly beside her. They'd just gotten back from the mall, and Silas had excused himself into the bathroom.
They probably should have avoided the sketchy food court…
Other than that, she still had a lot of fun hanging out with him and Amy. All of them just enjoying some off time for a few hours.
Predictably, none of them had exactly "blended in." Being outed capes meant every third person wanted a picture or an autograph, and Vicky had smiled through it.
And then when they got tired of the crowds Vicky invited Silas back to their house, where there would be a lot more privacy for what she secretly had planned next. A secret she was about to discuss with Amy. Vicky turned to Amy with a sly grin—the kind that immediately made Amy squirm.
"What?" Amy asked, instantly suspicious. She knew Vicky well…
"I wanna fuck Silas," Vicky said bluntly.
Amy's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. Her entire face flushed in record time. It was always adorable when that happened! Even now that they were older and technically adults.
Vicky rolled her shoulders, lazily stretching herself out. "I want to ride him until his legs stop working. There's just something about him, Amy. He's powerful, hot as hell, and I swear, ever since I dumped Dean, I've been walking around with a permanent goddamn ache."
Amy let out a soft noise, somewhere between a squeak and a gasp. "What!?"
Vicky smirked. "Don't act surprised. You remember what you did, right? When I was younger and dumber and thought it would be fun to ask you for a 'permanent sexual boost'?"
Amy looked away immediately, her ears burning red.
"You used your powers to make me more sensitive and ramp up my sex drive. Which was amazing, by the way." Vicky's voice dropped lower, sultry. "Sex has been fucking mind-blowing ever since. And yeah, I might be a bit of a nympho now, but only when I've got a boyfriend to work it out with. Problem is, I don't..." She paused, biting her bottom lip. "And my tits ache, and I'm so fucking wet it's ridiculous. Silas just does something to me. So—yeah—I wanna fuck him. And make him my new boyfriend too!"
Amy sat frozen, eyes wide, jaw slightly slack. "Oh come on! I met him first! Don't be such a greedy slut, Vicky!"
Vicky teased. "You're seriously going to judge me? You work at a hospital all day and I know how kinky those places get!"
Amy glanced at her and mumbled, barely audible, "I've never even... y'know... done it. Not once." Amy groaned and buried her face in her hands.
"Wait, seriously?" Vicky blinked, then grinned wickedly. Watching Amy fidget on the couch, her legs pressed tightly together, her fingers clenching the hem of her shirt—yeah, it was adorable. And kind of hot, if she was being honest.
It caught Vicky off guard, because Amy, despite all her shyness and nervous ticks, actually got propositioned more than Vicky did. Guys and girls alike fawned over Panacea, the miraculous healer of Brockton Bay. She was popular as hell, and probably twice as pent-up.
Vicky knew this because, well, she'd been on Amy's computer more than once.
Sometimes Vicky forgot her own strength and ended up cracking her laptop in half. When that happened, she'd just use Amy's without asking. That was when she stumbled across the hidden folder.
And by hidden, she meant lazily named "Homework Files."
It was a goldmine of porn. Dozens of video clips, image sets, gifs—almost all of them featuring either busty blondes or tall, buff blond dudes. Amy had a very clear type. And yeah, Vicky wasn't blind—she fit it a little too well.
But she never brought it up. That would've been one awkward-ass conversation.
Still... maybe she could use it to her advantage.
Vicky tilted her head, giving Amy a slow, deliberate smile. "You wanna watch?"
Amy blinked, her whole body going stiff. "W-what? Watch what?" Her voice cracked halfway through. But her face? Bright red. Her legs tensed, squeezed together like she already knew exactly what Vicky meant.
Vicky leaned over, slow and smooth, until she was practically draped across Amy's lap. Her chest pressed against Amy's side, lips close enough to brush the shell of her ear.
"Watch me fuck Silas," she whispered. "Right here. Right now."
Her hand slid up Amy's side, casually palming the girl's breast through her top. Amy let out a sharp gasp, her back arching just slightly, breath hitching like she'd been sucker-punched with lust.
Yeah... No question about her hunch now. Amy was totally into her.
That was... a revelation and a half.
Strange? Sure. But not exactly unwelcome. Vicky had a weird life. Hell, the last time she and Dean hooked up, she'd flipped him into the Amazon position in midair. He hadn't exactly appreciated the emasculation. Pretty sure that was the moment their relationship started going downhill as well.
Vicky's fingers rolled Amy's nipple between them, the heat of it radiating through the fabric. She smiled as she felt it harden. Amy was biting her lip now, her eyes hazy.
"You wanna watch me fuck him, Ames?" Vicky purred, brushing her lips along the edge of Amy's ear. Then, just to push her over, she licked it—slow, teasing.
Amy shuddered beneath her—a deep, trembling, full-body quake that ended in a low, wanton moan slipping from her throat. Her hips jerked ever so slightly, as if her body was caught between trying to resist and begging for more. Then Vicky saw it—the telltale darkening of denim right between Amy's legs. A wet patch blooming at the crotch of her jeans, impossible to miss in the low light of the room.
"Holy shit," Vicky whispered, blinking. "Did you just cum from that?"
Amy's only response was a ragged inhale and a choked whimper.
Vicky's grin widened. "Fuck, Ames... you really are pent up."
"Yes..." she whispered, voice breathy, barely audible. "I want to watch... and join in…"
Vicky pulled back just enough to meet Amy's glassy eyes. Vicky licked her lips and shot Amy a wicked grin, her eyes practically gleaming with excitement. She'd never had a threesome before—though not for lack of trying. Back when she was with Dean, she'd offered more than once to bring one of her friends into bed with them. He always got flustered, nervously declining every time, much to her disappointment.
But Silas? Silas wasn't like Dean. He was confident, unpredictable, and a total fucking powerhouse. Vicky had no doubt he could handle her insatiable sex drive—and give Amy a first time worth remembering while he was at it.
Her thighs rubbed together, the friction just enough to keep the ache teasing at her core.
Beside her, Amy shifted nervously on the couch, clutching one of the throw pillows like it might protect her from the anticipation buzzing in the air.
They both perked up as they heard footsteps approaching—Silas returning from the bathroom.
Vicky gave him a smoldering look, slow and sultry, legs slightly spread, body language screaming please ruin me.
But Silas didn't even glance their way!
"I had a lot of fun today, you two," he said casually, smiling as he reached for the front door. "We should hang out again tomorrow. But I can't stay any longer—I promised the newest Ward, Taylor, I'd go patrolling with her tonight."
Vicky's expression froze.
"I'll see you both tomorrow," Silas added cheerfully, then stepped outside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
For a moment, there was only silence…
Vicky and Amy sat there staring at the door like it had just slapped them.
"Did that just fucking happen?" Vicky muttered.
"Son of a bitch! I missed out on another threesome!" Amy whined beside her, flopping back into the couch like her dreams had just been shot.
Vicky blinked at the closed door a few more times, lips parted in disbelief. She genuinely considered flying after him, tackling his clueless ass mid-air, and dragging him back inside to deal with the two very horny girls he'd left behind.
If he'd just looked their way, even once, he would've seen Amy's flushed cheeks, Vicky's sultry look, and the sheer tension rolling off them both in waves.
Then the front door creaked open again, and Vicky's heart jumped.
Oh! He was back!
Her face lit up, breath caught in her throat—
Only to freeze completely when she saw her mom, Carol Dallon step inside, briefcase in hand.
"I'm home early, girls. Wasn't much going on at the firm today," Carol said casually, setting her bag down. "I just saw Silas leaving. And remember what I've said about no sex in my house, right?"
Amy squeaked from the couch, her voice high-pitched and mortified. "Nothing happened, Carol!" She scrambled to her feet and practically ran to her room, probably to change out of her wet panties.
Vicky let out a long, exasperated sigh, flopping her head back against the cushions. "Huh. Maybe we dodged a bullet," she muttered. The thought of her mom walking in mid-threesome with her, Amy, and Silas was enough to make her soul leave her body.
Still... Next time he was not getting away!
– Taylor–
Taylor stood on the rooftop with her arms crossed, trying and failing to mask how nervous she felt. It was exactly 6 p.m.—the time Silas had agreed to meet her for patrol—and while there was still a good hour or so of daylight left, the seconds were dragging.
She tapped her foot, then stopped. Fidgeted with her gloves. Checked the time on her phone again. Her thoughts spiraled in the usual paranoid loop.
What if he forgot? What if he changed his mind? What if this whole thing had just been him messing with her?
She sucked in a breath and told herself to stop being ridiculous. Of course Silas would show. He wasn't like the rest of the assholes at Winslow who had ignored her while she'd been tortured, day in and day out. She remembered the times he'd stood up for her, back when he didn't even have powers. And the fact that he didn't even seem to remember those moments? That made it better. It meant doing the right thing came naturally to him—like it was just baked into who he was.
He was also the biggest reason she had agreed to join the Wards. Taylor had never had time to think about boys, not when her school years were spent trying to avoid being pushed into lockers or humiliated in front of everyone. But if there was one guy who made her feel something—actual want—it was Silas fucking Thorn.
That's why it burned so much seeing Sophia had an edge up on him already!
"Stupid bitch," Taylor muttered under her breath.
Her bugs caught it before her eyes did. A mass of dark motion approaching from above. A grin pulled across her lips beneath her mask. Silas was flying in on his ghost bike, the engine eerily silent.
"So fucking cool," she breathed as he touched down on the rooftop with a smooth, almost theatrical landing.
He hopped off, wearing his full black costume, but with the hood down and the mask off. His face was uncovered, so she could see those blue eyes that even Rebecca gushed about, and that messy blond hair looked like it had been tousled by wind and effort in just the right way.
Taylor swallowed hard. Fuck, she thought. I really am crushing on him.
Silas stepped closer to Taylor, his eyes sweeping over her costume—and maybe lingering on her body too, or so she hoped. He flashed her a warm, genuine smile, nodding appreciatively.
"I really like your costume," Silas said, his voice carrying a sincere tone that made her heart flutter. He gestured casually at himself, indicating his own dark attire. "Obviously, I'm a fan of black myself. But yours has a real intimidation factor going on. Villains will think twice before fucking with you. Plus, all that tight silk—definitely not bad for showing off your body."
Taylor felt heat rush to her cheeks beneath her mask, grateful he couldn't see how fiercely she was blushing. She shifted nervously in place, her fingers twitching at her sides. "Thanks," she managed, her voice softer and shakier than she would have liked. "I worked really hard on it myself. You don't think it's too scary, do you? Some of the PRT consultants said it was too intimidating, but I put my foot down."
Silas chuckled lightly, shaking his head with amusement. "We're the ones risking our asses out here," he said confidently. "We should get to wear whatever the fuck we want—well, as long as it's not ridiculously skimpy or anything."
Taylor laughed quietly at that, her nerves easing slightly. "You know, that reminds me—when Glory Girl first debuted, there were all these articles and posts online about how short her skirt was. She didn't wear shorts underneath either, so whenever she flew, half the city got flashed her panties. It became a huge issue until Brandish stepped in and forced her to redesign the costume."
Silas burst out laughing. "No way. Seriously?"
Taylor nodded enthusiastically. "It was big news in the Bay for a couple days until something else crazy happened and everyone forgot."
That's how things worked in this town...
Silas grinned widely, clearly entertained by the story. "I was just with Vicky and Amy earlier. I'm definitely bringing this up next time to tease Vicky!"
Taylor felt a sudden pang of jealousy at his casual mention of being with Vicky and Amy. The famous Dallons. Both girls were practically celebrities in Brockton Bay—easily the most popular capes in Brockton Bay, despite being the same age as Taylor at eighteen. The only heroes who even came close were seasoned Protectorate members like Armsmaster or Miss Militia.
Of course, Taylor already knew Silas had been with them earlier. He'd mentioned it at school, and a PHO post featuring him embracing both girls outside Arcadia High had gone viral almost immediately. Not that Taylor had been cyberstalking him—or using her powers to keep tabs on him, for that matter. She couldn't help being naturally paranoid, and it wasn't her fault the universe had decided to amplify that trait by giving her bug-controlling abilities perfect for discreet surveillance.
Before she could dwell on her internal cringe too much, Taylor flinched sharply. Her bugs a few blocks away had just relayed something horrifying a few blocks away.
ABB thugs were attacking a woman, dragging her roughly into an alley and attempting to tear her clothes off.
Taylor's pulse spiked with urgency. "We need to go," she blurted out sharply, already moving toward Silas's motorcycle.
Thankfully, he didn't question her at all—another thing she admired about him. He simply nodded and quickly mounted the bike. Taylor climbed behind him, wrapping her arms tightly around his firm waist.
"Where too?" he asked her.
She pointed in the direction they needed to head, and in seconds, the ghost bike smoothly lifted off the rooftop and shot forward. Adrenaline and excitement surged through Taylor, mixing strangely with the seriousness of the situation.
Riding on a flying motorcycle with her arms around Silas—yeah, that was undeniably a ten-out-of-ten experience.
Once again, fuck Sophia Hess for getting to experience it first!
Taylor's arms stayed tight around Silas as the ghost bike dipped low over the alley. She felt his back tense beneath her fingers, and she didn't need her bugs to confirm why—she could see it with her own eyes now. Below them, a half-naked woman sobbed and thrashed in the grip of three ABB gang members, their filthy laughter echoing off the alley walls.
"We're gonna have some fun with this one before we take her back," one of the men jeered, yanking on what remained of her shirt. "She'll be a good little whore for the boys."
The woman screamed, voice ragged and desperate. One of the thugs laughed again and shouted, "Ain't nobody in this city gonna fuck with us now—not with Lung healed up. The ABB is back, baby!"
Taylor's blood boiled. Rage burned white-hot under her skin. She didn't wait. "Fuck you—and fuck Lung too!" she shouted from behind Silas. Without hesitation, she leapt off the ghost bike. It was a good ten-foot drop, and she landed with a heavy thud that rattled her knees. "Ow..." she muttered under her breath, immediately regretting how much cooler that fall had looked in her head. Her body ached from the impact, but she forced herself upright, doing her best to shake it off.
Thankfully, her mask covered the pained expression she couldn't quite suppress.
The thugs had frozen mid-motion, staring at her.
"Who the fuck are you, bitch?" one of them barked.
Another recognized her first. His eyes went wide with panic. "Oh shit, that's the crazy gaijin who iced that Empire assassin! She killed Victor! It's her—the bug girl!"
Taylor scowled behind her mask. "I'm not Bug Girl," she said firmly. "I'm Weaver." she declared. Putting her hands in her hips dramatically.
The moment the words left her mouth, every flying insect in a three-block radius surged into the alley like a living storm. Wasps, hornets, biting flies—an angry, stinging cloud that swarmed the ABB thugs before they could so much as draw a weapon.
One thug stumbled backwards, tripping over a discarded trash bin before collapsing and rolling on the pavement, howling as wasps sank their stingers into every inch of exposed skin. Another thug tried to run, only to trip over the half-naked woman still scrambling on the ground. He crashed hard and shrieked as flies and hornets instantly swarmed his face, forcing him to claw at his own eyes in desperation.
"Get 'em off! Get 'em the fuck off!" one of them shouted, voice cracking with terror.
Taylor watched from above, heart hammering, arms clenched at her sides. They deserved every fucking second of it.
The woman screamed too at first—until she realized not a single insect was touching her.
Her expression hardened from fear to fury in an instant. "Fuck you assholes!" she spat, her voice raw and furious. With her shredded top barely hanging on, she turned on the nearest thug who was still writhing under the swarm. She slammed a boot into his ribs, once, twice, then a third time for good measure. "You think you can just drag women into alleys and get away with it?"
She kicked again, this time in the face, as the man let out a muffled grunt, overwhelmed by the stings and blows.
…As soon as the last of the screams died down and the gang members were either unconscious or wishing they were—moaning in pain, Taylor watched Silas approach the rescued woman.
Now that the adrenaline was fading, the woman was trembling, her arms crossed tightly over her bare chest, tears running freely down her cheeks.
Silas slowed as he neared her, his posture careful, non-threatening. Then—like something out of a video game—a glowing blue screen shimmered into view in front of him. Taylor blinked, her eyes narrowing behind her mask.
Okay… what the hell even were his powers?
She didn't get to ponder it long. Silas reached casually into the screen like it was nothing and pulled out a neatly folded PRT jacket. Without hesitation, he offered it to the woman, who took it with shaking hands, clutching it to herself like it was a lifeline.
"Th-thank you, Dragonborn," the woman whispered, using his hero name.
Silas gave her a small, almost bashful smile. "Of course. That's what the Wards—and the PRT—are here for." Then, to Taylor's genuine surprise, he bowed his head and added, "I'm sorry we weren't here sooner."
And then—because apparently he was trying to score sainthood—he reached up, pulled off his mask, and looked the woman directly in the eyes, every ounce of sincerity laid bare.
Oh no… Why did he have to go and do that!? Taylor felt something twist in her gut.
The woman blinked up at him, clearly taken aback by the gesture. And then she stared at his face in surprise, and her cheeks turned pink.
Then, to Taylor's growing irritation, she actually giggled. Her voice shifted—gone was the scared, rattled victim. Now she sounded downright flirtatious. "Well…" the woman purred, tilting her head coyly, "...I can think of a few ways a handsome hero like you could make it up to me. You already saw my tits, after all. Maybe you owe me dinner for that? I know a great place nearby."
Taylor's jaw clenched so hard her molars hurt.
Unbelievable.
Absolutely fucking unbelievable. Only in Brockton Bay!
Silas looked genuinely stunned, like the thought had never even crossed his mind. Of course it hadn't. Because he was too nice.
And every damn woman in this godforsaken city seemed determined to throw themselves at him!
Stupid Silas and his stupid handsome face!
Without a word, Taylor stormed forward, grabbed the back of his costume, and yanked. Hard.
"Whoa—hey!" he sputtered, stumbling backward as she dragged him away from the alley.
"Where are you going?" the woman called out behind them, still clutching the PRT jacket to her chest and pouting.
Taylor didn't even glance back. "You seem fine now, lady," she snapped a bit. "The police are on their way. Give them your statement when they get here."
And with that, she shoved Silas toward the ghost bike, practically throwing him onto the seat. He looked up at her, blinking in confusion.
Taylor didn't wait. She climbed on behind him, wrapped her arms around his waist with just a little more force than necessary, and muttered, "Let's go."
The ghost bike started up beneath them, rising into the air like a dark wraith, and in seconds they were soaring above the rooftops again.
– Alexandria –
High above Brockton Bay, cloaked by the thinning clouds and the last light of sunset, Rebecca—no, Alexandria now—hovered silently, arms crossed, cape fluttering in the wind. Her armor-clad form was a dark outline against the sky, nearly invisible at this altitude. But her vision was razor-sharp, enhanced by the embedded tinkertech in her helmet's visor. Every word, every expression, every twitch of emotion on the faces of the people far below was rendered in perfect clarity.
She had seen the whole thing unfold.
The alley rescue. The ABB thugs getting swarmed. The woman sobbing in shock one second, then shamelessly flirting with Silas the next. And Taylor—Weaver—absolutely losing her shit over it.
Rebecca had nearly giggled over that last one...
God, Taylor's reaction had been priceless. All puffed-up indignation and furious jealousy. Although Rebecca wasn't exactly thrilled with the rescued woman either. The sheer audacity—hitting on a Ward while still half-dressed!
But that didn't excuse how poorly the situation was handled either. Taylor had definitely overreacted. Used too much force. The swarm she unleashed might've been effective, but it was also excessive as hell. Those ABB scumbags might actually die from the venom and trauma.
No. They would definitely die...
Not that she'd shed a tear.
Fucking rapists deserved worse. But politically, it was a goddamn mess. If word of this hit the press—especially the bleeding-heart types—they'd spin it like the Wards were unhinged vigilantes, not heroes. The PRT didn't need another public relations shitstorm, and Rebecca sure as hell didn't have time to do damage control while juggling high school life.
She sighed through her nose.
She'd probably have to scrub the scene herself. Stage the bodies, clean up the worst of it. Maybe throw the victim a payoff under the table to make sure she kept her mouth shut.
And then she'd need to have a nice little chat with Miss Militia later tonight about reinforcing discipline among the junior capes. The Wards of this town had a lot of potential, but they were still too green. Too emotional, too reactive. Not knowing how to hold back.
Especially now.
Vista, their youngest, had just broken through her Manton limit—because the force was apparently a real thing. And she'd somehow ended up with a fucking lightsaber as well! Yeah, that little girl was absolutely going to accidentally kill people in the next month.
And then probably cry a lot about it...
Alexandria had to learn that the hard way herself when she was younger. When she was just starting out she left a lot of mangled and dead bodies that Contessa cleaned up for her. That's what friends were for though, right?
She was about to do the same for her new friend Taylor after all...
Her attention drifted back down to Silas and Weaver as they resumed their patrol. They flew above the city with Taylor clinging to Silas's back.
Rebecca's lips curled behind her helmet as she focused on him.
Silas powers were unpredictable, but amazing, and they grew! Not just with his "missions" but also when he accomplished other notable "feats."
According to Contessa at least.
Whether those "feats" were victory in combat—or conquest in the bedroom. Although apparently he hadn't "discovered" that second way to get stronger yet, he would soon.
For now, she'd help him with the first one... For now at least.
He was going to save this world, but before that, he needed to be more! Her mind clicked through possibilities, strategies, simulations. And then her memory replayed what one of those thugs had shouted: That Lung was healed.
She narrowed her eyes slightly. She'd personally put that arrogant dragon down a week ago. Beat him into a crater.
It was almost impressive how fast he healed.
Maybe it was time to test Silas again. It shouldn't be hard to make it so Lung and him crossed paths tonight….
SIlas wouldn't be in any true danger with her watching. And, of course, this would give her an excuse to meet him again as "Alexandria."
XXX
Hehe... I know I'm evil for ending that first part short.