by K. A Knight
“I can’t help it! You have your face on my cock!” he shouts, getting more and more flustered.
“Wow, what a drama queen,” I taunt from my crouched position at his feet.
“And I thought you guys were weird,” Peeper comments casually, as I look over to spot all three of them standing next to us, watching the show. Great, my cover has been blown. I was doing so well before my human shield decided to throw a tantrum.
Climbing to my feet, I pat the dude’s erection casually. “Thanks, sorry I dropped my, er…” Looking at the ground, I grab the bit of old lettuce. “Lettuce,” I finish lamely.
“You are aware I can read your mind right? I know you’re following us because you think they will reinstate you as a Hero if you bring us down.” Peeper leans back as he speaks, a smug expression on his face.
Popping up in front of him, I shush him with my finger, forgetting about the lettuce in my hand and smacking him in the face with it. He gags and tries to push it away as I hold it to his lips. “Shhhhh, you know nothing. My uber secret ‘get back to being a Hero’ plan is a go. Now, back to your daily lives. Go about your villainess ways, you know, killing people, robbing grannies, hitting children,” I whisper, walking backwards slowly, aiming to fade into the alley behind me dramatically, but I don’t look where I walk and I smack right into the wall.
“Ow,” I finish, before darting down the alley to hide, giggling to myself as they share a look.
“Okay,” Peeper chokes out.
“Erm, so are we still going for food, or what?” Streaker asks.
Thor, aka Ripper, looks from the alley I’m hiding down, back to the street. “Sure.”
Streaker waves lamely before they turn and start walking again. I go to wave but end up throwing the lettuce. It smacks Ripper on the back and he spins with a glare, as I sink back into the darkness of the alley. I’m so good at this spy shit, it’s shocking really. I don’t know why I never tried it before.
After an hour of them being in a burger joint, I get bored. This stalking business sure is dull. That’s when it hits me. The pigeon shit from the roof above that is. Groaning, I wipe it away and shoot into the air, landing on the ledge and pointing at the bird it belongs to.
“You don’t see me shitting on you, do you? No, so fucking rude. Shit elsewhere,” I order, wagging my finger before dropping back to the road below.
Now, where was I? Ah yes, I was thinking of a new plan. Maybe undercover work would be the best? Slide into their mindsets, earn their trust, maybe go on a few villainy missions before I bring them in, and Jerry will be so impressed they will have to reinstate me. It’s foolproof, really. Three Villains at once? That’s sure to shoot me to the Hall of Fame. I can retire and hang up my Hero boots, live a good life.
“Um, excuse me?”
I’m startled back into reality to see that Peeper is before me, smirking in my direction. He does that a lot, I wonder if it’s a Villain thing, like one of the skill sets says ‘must be able to smirk and laugh evilly.’ I wonder if he has a spinny chair and a cat to stroke dramatically as he turns. That would be cool. I straighten up from my slouch and brush some dirt from my clothing.
“Yes?” I ask haughtily, and when he just continues to smirk at me, I frown at him. “What do you want? I’m on some very important Hero business here. Shoo!” I huff, gesturing away before crossing my arms.
“But you’re not a Hero anymore,” he helpfully points out.
“Yes, well, I’m working on that. Not that it has anything to do with you,” I retort, flicking my hair dramatically over my shoulder. Except it doesn't quite work that way and I end up with a mouthful of it, that fucking advert makes it look so easy. “Urgh—” I spit it out before brushing my hair back. “What did you want?”
“Look, I know you’re following us. I’ve told you, I can hear you.” He taps his temple before leaning back against the wall of the burger joint, crossing his arms. I’m pretty sure he’s just copying me to be a twat, what a Villain move, they are more sly than I first thought. This is going to take all of my many Hero skills. “Are you going to come in and join us or what?”
“Wait. What?” I nearly fall over in shock. They know I’m following them to bring them down and be reinstated as a Hero, yet they are inviting me to join them for dinner?
“Yeah, that’s never going to happen,” he comments with a wry smile. He rolls his eyes at my confused look before tapping his forehead again. “I. Can. Hear. Your. Thoughts. You were thinking that you were going to take us down. It’s not going to happen.”
Ripper and Streaker come out of the joint and must catch the end of his statement.
“Yeah, to be fair, you seem to struggle to even walk or, you know, basic life skills. Really, it’s a surprise you made it this far,” Ripper adds.
“And I can hear your stomach rumbling from here,” Streaker offers with a shrug and a small smile.
As if on cue, my stomach growls loudly. Traitor. “Fine. I’m coming in, but only because I want to. Not because three hot Villains invited me.”
“You think we’re hot?” Ripper asks with a smug smile, and all three of them chuckle as a blush fills my cheeks.
“I didn’t say that,” I squeak cause I’m smooth like that.
“Yes you did. And now you’re thinking it, annnnd now she's thinking about your cock—dude, stop, I do not need the image of his cock in my head, thank you.”
My stomach growls again and I decide to ignore them, maybe they will go away If I just don’t talk to them? I push past them, or at least attempt to.
“Man, will you get out of the way? Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to get in the way of a hungry woman? I will tear your arm off,” I threaten, and then a little smile comes to my face, maybe I could be good at this Villain nonsense after all? I have to hold in a giggle though as Ripper groans.
“I’m never going to live that down,” he mutters, and I tap his chest in condolence before my mouth pops open in shock.
“Man, you are hard, like seriously. It feels like concrete, so pretty,” I coo, as I get distracted feeling and stroking his chest until someone coughs. “Ah yes! Food!” I push past them and walk inside the place.
They are staring at me. Man, I hate it when people stare, especially when I’m eating. I ignore them, hoping they will go back to their own food. Like, who needs watchers? It’s so rude.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Streaker mutters. “She eats more than you,” he says to Ripper, who watches in open mouth shock as I shovel my fourth burger in my mouth. They continue to gossip like little old grannies until I have enough. Smashing my burger down onto the table I glare at the three of them.
“Do you have a problem? I’m trying to eat here!” I say, bits of burger flying out my mouth as I speak. They know better than to interrupt me when I’m eating, I did warn them.
Now all I have to do is figure out a plan. If I can be a Hero again, I’ll get my old place back, right? Hmm, that’s a point, I’ll have to figure out where I’m staying tonight. Man, those guys are so ungrateful. I’ve been dedicating my life to being a Hero and with a click of their fingers, I’m homeless and reclassified.
“Wait, you’re homeless?” Peeper asks, almost shouting it.
Damn it, when will I learn? I finish my bite of burger and look up at the three stunned Villains.
“What does it matter to you? You’re Villains after all, why would you care if a has-been Hero is homeless?” I shoot back, anger at the situation finally hitting me. Yeah, I might not be great at being a Hero, but that's not through lack of trying. And now I’m a Villain without a clue what I’m doing.
“Why don’t you embrace it?” Peeper questions, obviously reading my thoughts again. I’m about to shout at him for peeping into my brain, but I mull over his words. Maybe I could embrace it? I could be the best damn Villain they have ever seen.
“Uh oh. I don’t like that look on her face,” Ripper whispers to the others as they watch me.
“Calm down Crusher, baby steps, huh?” Streaker suggests.
And then it hits me. The best idea I’ve ever had.
“Oh no,” Peeper groans and puts his head in his hands.
Ripper looks from him to me nervously. “What? What’s ‘Oh no’?” His voice getting higher with his concern.
“You guys could teach me!” I practically shout it, beaming with pride at my great idea. This time all three of them groan, which is just rude if you ask me.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re not exactly your top quality Villains.”
“Then maybe we can help each other?” I can see that this could turn into an argument, so I go back to devouring my food while the three of them turn to each other and discuss me as if I wasn’t there. Fine by me, at least they aren’t watching me anymore, meaning I can shove food in my mouth like a pig.
“We can’t just leave her on the streets,” Ripper comments.
“She was going to turn us in to get herself reclassified! Why should we help her?” Streaker groans
“Oh come on, like that was ever going to happen. You’ve seen her, she can barely walk without taking herself out.” Peeper laughs.
“Peeper is right, we should at least offer her somewhere to stay tonight,” Streaker says and I beam at him, reaching out and patting him on the head.
“Good Villain! You’re my favourite.”
“Why is he your favorite? I said that we should help you first!” Ripper argues, outraged.
I turn my smile to him. “You’re also my favourite.” This seems to please him as he grins at me, before turning his smug smile to Peeper. “I’m also her favourite,” he singsongs.
“You can’t both be her favourites. That defies the point of there being favourites!” Peeper throws his hands up as if he’s exasperated by the whole conversation.
“He’s just jealous that he isn’t one of my favourites,” I state with a solemn nod, eyeing him sadly as Streaker, Ripper, and me share knowing looks.
“I am not jealous,” he grumbles sullenly, before glaring at me and then looking to the guys with a sigh. “Fine. She can come back to our place. But for one night! And then she’s out.”
I fist pump in the air to celebrate and swing my legs off the side of the bench, my plate already cleared. “Yes! Let’s go boys!” They start getting to their feet and I dart to the door. “Oh, I’m also broke, so dinner is on you. Thanks!” I holler and run out of the door laughing.
Chapter Six
I figured their place would be some cool flat, or a massive house on the outskirts with a cave underneath for all their naughty Villain plans. I was so wrong. Eyeing the bright yellow bungalow, I turn to the guys in confusion. It even has ivy growing up the large, bay front window and a bloody hanging basket by the cheery front door.
“Have we made a stop to come and see an evil Villain granny who secretly sells guns and shit out of her garage?” Because that would be cool too, I can imagine her now, looking all cute and innocent, and then BAM! Out comes the bazooka. Ooooo, I could shoot one of those now. Not at people, maybe at like an old car? Just to see that shit blow up, I bet it’s awesome.
“No...This is our place,” Streaker tells me, as he walks up and unlocks the door.
“You’re shitting me. This is like a welcome to the Villain club prank, right?” I follow behind him with wide eyes. “Oh, I get it. You have the owners tied up somewhere, it’s your safe house,” I murmur, looking around for trap doors and axes hanging up on the walls. But there isn’t a weapon in sight, not even any spooky cobwebs. It’s quite homely.
“Huh. Way to break the stereotype,” I say with a shrug, holding my hand out for a fist bump. They all stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind and I slowly drop my fist. “Okaaay.”
Turning back to the living room, I start to wander through the house, being nosey and sticking my head in each door. The hallway has four doors to the right, each leading to a double bedroom and one to a bathroom. The bedrooms are pretty sparse. One has weights, a blue duvet, and one blue wall. The second has posters everywhere, books, computers, and games. The last is a modern looking bedroom, decorated in blacks and whites. It has drawers, a wardrobe, a perfectly made bed, and looks very suave.
What makes me laugh are the towels in the bathroom though. At the bottom of the white towels hung next to the shower is each of their initials. How cute.
At the end of the hallway it ends in a mix of an old school and modern kitchen, with sliding glass doors out into a private, small back garden.
“Finished?” Ripper asks, and I look over my shoulder to see him leaning against the doorway.
“Nope, still need to find your porn stash and wank socks so I know where to avoid.” I grin.
“Ripper’s is under his bed, he isn’t very imaginative, and Streaker’s Porn Hub password is titsfordays, no spaces,” Peeper informs me helpfully, as he walks into the kitchen.
I hear a crash farther into the house and laugh. “Yay, porn! What about you?”
“Me? Pu-lease, I don’t need porn.” He gestures at his body before turning and flicking on the kettle.
Rolling my eyes, I explore the little kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling out mugs and unopened boxes of food. I feel several sets of eyes on me, but I choose to ignore them and continue my scavenger hunt.
“What is she looking for?” Ripper whispers to the others.
“I have no idea, but I’m perfectly content to watch the show,” Peeper replies, and it’s the smirk in his voice that causes me to turn with an eyebrow raised. When I do, I see that they are all staring at where my dress has ridden up from reaching into the cupboard, showing the bottom of my black lacy underwear. I think about having a go at them, but just raise my eyebrows at Peeper’s challenging look. Shrugging, I turn back to the cupboard, stretching just that little bit farther than I need to, adding a little wiggle as I grab the cereal box I was reaching for. I smirk to myself at the masculine groan that sounds from one of the guys.
“I’m out,” Ripper declares as I turn around, schooling my face into the picture of innocence as he walks away.
“Was it something I said?” I ask sweetly, and both Peeper and Streaker snort as I grab myself a bowl, pouring a generous portion. “What? I didn’t do anything. I’m an angel, remember?” I flutter my white wings to remind them before shoveling a large spoonful of the sugary goodness into my mouth.
“You can’t still be hungry?” Streaker says with a shake of his head. These guys obviously don’t know me very well.
“So,” I begin, not bothering to answer his question, “where am I sleeping tonight?” I ask around a mouthful of cereal.
The guys both look at each other with raised eyebrows, as if they hadn’t been expecting the question, before turning back to me, and running their gazes up and down my body. I roll my eyes at them, what, do they think that Heroes don’t sleep?
“Ripper’s room.” The reply comes in unison.
I stroll into Ripper’s room like I own the place, and he isn’t in here, so I decide to find something to entertain myself with. There are running water sounds coming from the closed door attached to the room, which I assume is an ensuite. I start to browse the meager shelves lining the walls. There are several books there, and I’m surprised by some of the classics I find. Ripper doesn’t strike me as a classical literature kinda guy. Grabbing a copy of Pride and Prejudice, I saunter over to the bed, and daintily throw myself down onto the blue covers. Lying on my stomach I flick through the pages not really reading, my brain is too active, too excited about my first day of ‘Villain training’ tomorrow. Slamming the book shut, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling with a sigh.
A thought comes to me, causing a smile to spread across my face as I scramble to the end of the bed, where I lift the corner of the mattress, which is harder than you would think a
s I’m still trying to lay on it.
“Ah ha!” I cry, holding my treasure to my chest as I shuffle backwards. Flicking through the magazine, I whistle at some of the images that great me. “That’s a nice ass,” I comment, just as a movement in the corner of my eye grabs my attention. Glancing up I smile at a half naked Ripper, whose mouth has dropped open at the sight of me sprawled across his bed while looking through his porn stash.
“What—” he splutters, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, his eyes round in shock. My gaze roams up and down his body, this guy is ripped. We are talking Ryan Reynolds in Deadpool ripped, and now I’m just thinking about Ryan Reynolds. Shaking my head, I grin at Ripper.
“Nice towel,” I say with a wink, enjoying the shade of pink tinting his cheeks. This seems to pull him out of his stupor, as he pulls his eyes away from my ass and he realises what I have in my hands.
“What are you doing in my—whoa, don’t look at those!” he shouts and thunders towards me, pulling the magazine from my hands, except I don’t think he expected me to hold on to it, and only ends up tearing the magazine down the middle.
“Living up to your name, Ripper?” I tease with a sweet smile, holding up the torn half naked image of a woman who looks like every man’s—and let’s face it, woman’s—wet dream. Her body is shining in the light, they totally baby oiled her up, and her boobs are incredible. I mean, I’m more of an ass woman, but even I’ll admit she has a good rack. Tilting my head to the side, I take in the way she’s straddling the bike, it’s got to be cold in just her bikini. I don’t think it’s very practical either, what if she had an accident?
The poor guy looks like he’s about to combust, the torn porn mag hanging from his hand while he looks around the room, trying to work out what’s going on.
“No,” is all he has to offer, shaking his head and walking back towards the bathroom before spinning around and pointing at me, half of the porno page still clutched in his hand. “No, you can’t be in here.”