"Since when are you two chummy?" I asked, popping a grape into my mouth.
Trixie giggled first. "Since we learned both of us are victims of your cock."
Cassie didn't deny it. She just grinned into her burger.
"Victims?" I asked, sipping the juice. "I feel like I gave Olympic-level service. Gold medals. Moist records shattered."
"Collateral damage," Trixie said, wiping her mouth. "My thighs still twitch when I hear your name."
"Same," Cassie said, leaning forward. "Except mine twitch when I hear the locker room door slam."
Cassie sipped from her juice box to punctuate that, eyes tracking me like I might say something worth riding again. Trixie leaned her elbow on the table.
Cassie smirked like she had been waiting for that cue. "She wants another round."
Trixie let out a hum, as if she just tasted something forbidden and liked it way too much. "Or she wants to make sure the last one was not a fluke."
Cassie leaned back, licking the corner of her lip, casual as hell. "Could be both."
Trixie nudged her. "You think he can go double?"
Cassie raised her brows, then looked me dead in the eye. "He better."
I raised my cup, took a sip, and gave them a look. "So, what, are we reviewing the tape now? Giving performance notes? Should I take out a pen?"
Cassie tilted her head, brushing her hair off her shoulder. "You want notes, or you want a challenge?"
Trixie leaned closer. "Gym. After study. Friday."
Cassie picked a fry, popped it into her mouth, and spoke like it was the most casual thing in the world. "Bring stamina. We aren't pacing this one."
Trixie smirked. "And no sneaking out early. You leave again before the second round, I am stealing your pants."
Something sparked behind my eyes. That tiny little spark you get when your brain connects the wires and sets off the fire alarm of good fortune.
Both of them?
At once?
One invite?
My legs twitched under the table.
[System]: BABY… THAT IS NOT A DRILL. RED ALERT. YOU JUST GOT TAGGED IN A DOUBLE TEAM EVENT! THREESOME INCOMING! THIS IS NOT A SIMULATION. THIS IS FULL CO-OP MODE. DOUBLE XP WEEKEND!
Cassie caught my stunned silence and grinned. "What? Too much?"
Trixie sucked the corner of her juice box. "Say no and I will be very, very disappointed. Like, villain origin story disappointed."
I first spoke to System. 'System, I need some perks.'
[System]: Oh baby, you will get them in advance. Consider it a pre-orgasm bonus package. Daddy's about to do some cardio with benefits.
I grinned at the two girls like I just got handed a double shot of sin and dared not sip.
"Quilts. Bring those. You both will need something to crawl into when your legs stop functioning. I am not carrying either of you out of that gym."
They stood at the same time, hips swinging like a challenge, twin predators walking away from the table with the kind of synchronized sass that only came from shared depravity. Trixie looked back first, lips curled into a smirk like she had already drafted my obituary.
"Try to keep it in your pants, Daddy," she said.
Cassie followed up with a wink that felt like it deserved background music. Then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd like the cafeteria was a runway, and they just strutted offstage after dropping a sex bomb no one else noticed.
I barely had time to process the visual damage before Harry dropped into the seat across from me. "Those two were basically humping the air around you," he said, straight-faced. He gave me a look. The kind that said he wanted the gossip but was too proud to beg for it.
I stabbed another cube of melon with my fork and shoved it into my mouth, scooping some cheese with it. "Wussup?"
He tilted his head. "Do you have anything Friday after school?"
All warning bells went off inside my skull like a hentai alarm. The kind that screamed impending cardio with double moaning support. "THREESOME INCOMING." System fireworks. Pussy-shaped confetti. Choir of MILFs singing my name.
"Yup," I said, swallowing.
"My father asked me to visit the company. Some meeting. He said it would be good for me to bring a friend along."
I shrugged. "Sorry, I will be swamped Friday."
[System]: Hopefully in pussy juice. With Trixie as the left leg and Cassie as the right. You, baby, are the thrust between them. Make it art.
Harry looked mildly deflated. The kind of rich boy disappointment that came from plans not going his way for once. He sat back, stared at his phone like it might reschedule the entire company board just to fit me in.
"You good?" I asked, licking the yogurt lid because wasting dairy is a sin.
He nodded too fast. "Yeah. Yeah, I am good. Just thought it would be cool to have you there. You are... good at reading people."
I almost laughed. "You mean I am good at spotting corporate liars."
Harry smirked. "Basically. You would make a terrifying CEO."
"You say that like it is a bad thing."
He shook his head, then looked down at the table. "It is just... there is something off lately. My dad's been... tense."
"Tense how? Like, business tense? Or villain-monologue-on-the-rooftop tense?"
Harry glanced at me, then chuckled. "You joke, but honestly? Lately, it feels like both."
I finished the yogurt, flicked the empty cup into the trash bin five feet away. Nailed it. "Then it is a good thing I will not be there Friday."
He tried to laugh again, but it was hollow. He had stuff on his mind, but this was not the therapy booth. It was the lunch table. And I had two girls ready to reenact adult movies in a high school gym, so forgive me for not giving damn about the Osborn family drama spiral.
(.)(.)
That night, I was already mid-web swing, dragging some wannabe mugger off the ledge by his collar, when I saw something odd dart across the rooftops. Red blur. Slim frame. Tight suit. Mask with two stubby devil horns on top. She landed hard, crouched, then took off again.
I stuck the mugger to a fire escape with a note that said "Career change?" and turned back toward the blur. She was still going. Four rooftops ahead.
[System]: Mmm~ baby, either that is one hell of a dominatrix or Earth-69-WTF just unlocked its own Daredevil with a rack.
I tilted my head, watching the silhouette vault over a water tower and vanish behind a billboard. "So no Matt Murdock?"
[System]: Could be. Maybe he retired. Maybe he is jerking it to sonar porn in a Hell's Kitchen basement. Who knows.
"Charming."
[System]: I try. But seriously, that suit is custom. You see the way it hugged her ass? That isn't mass production.
I moved after her. No time to argue system sass when a rogue rooftop hopper was stealing my territory. Leather? Spandex? Probably something fancy with "tactical" stitched on the label for marketing.
She landed two blocks ahead on the side of a high-rise, then flipped backward and slid down a drainpipe like gravity was just another simp. I followed. Slung myself between buildings. Caught the edge of a billboard, spun over it, and landed on the next roof, just in time to see her look back. Mask covered everything, but her posture said sass. She did a little wave.
[System]: Oh she is flirting, sugar. That wave was not friendly. That was "catch me and maybe I will pin you" energy.
I was curious, because this was my turf. If someone else was out here in a red suit and playing rooftop gymnast, I needed to know if they were trouble or just cosplaying on adrenaline.
She dove into an alley. I dropped two levels, landed on a fire escape, and saw her vanish behind a dumpster like some kind of acrobatic raccoon.
Creepy alley, flickering light, two drunk dudes pissing on a wall to the left. She ignored them. They ignored her. I followed her in.
"You are following me," she said.
"Just making sure you aren't stealing my gigs," I said.
She tilted her head. "You Spider?"
"No. I am the pigeon guy. I swing through alleyways to hand out birdseed."
She laughed, as she moved closer. "You say this like you are doing a show."
I chuckled, as I watched her contours shine under street light. "Because I am. This is the gig. Beat a few assholes to the pavement, toss in a good line for the camera, and boom, donations. Hero by day, influencer by necessity."
She raised one arm, fingers flexing. Gloves looked reinforced, maybe reinforced knuckles too. "Huh. Hustle heroism."
"Exactly. You work for free, you get a funeral. You work for tips, you get ramen. I like ramen."
"Let me guess," she said, eyes narrowing behind the tinted lenses of her mask. "You got a catchphrase?"
"Yeah. It is 'stop being poor.'"
That earned another laugh. She tilted her head like she was trying to decide if I was flirting or just too dumb to be afraid. Maybe both.
"Look, we both save people. There is no need to turn this into a turf fight."
I shrugged, eyeing the shadow behind her shoulder. "You get applause and nothing else. I get money. I feel like it is important to draw lines between charity and survival."
"I repeat," she said, "we save lives. I cannot leave it to chance that you decide to go work that night. So why don't you fuck the back up? I don't dance for cameras, and cannot trust on your mood."
I tilted my head. "Very noble. How many are getting raped while you flirt with me right now?"
She took a half-step forward.
"And in the morning, when you sleep?" I asked. "Or when you eat? When you patch yourself up after catching a bullet meant for someone who will rob a gas station tomorrow?"
"I do my best," she snapped. Fist curled.
I laughed, maybe little too loud, "Yeah. That is the problem. Your best is never enough. This city isn't a stage for hero speeches. People aren't waiting for you to show up with justice. They are filth with hands. They hit. They stab. They steal. You save women who forgive their abusers in court. You pull people out of burning buildings, and they sue you for breaking their window. They sell ten-year-olds to men in suits and call it business. You want to clean that?"
Her body stiffened. Still trying to play the silent knight.
"That is reality. You want a badge, go become a cop. You want glory, die while saving. I am not here for posters and public claps. I am here because I have power. And if power cannot feed you, it is a hobby. And hobbies don't stop bullets."
"That isn't heroism," she said.
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You can read up to Chapter 85...
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