Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.

A/N: Rated 'M' for a bit language, and dry humping. o.O There are two reasons behind that. One, the clothing serves as a barrier between what Blossom wants from herself and who she is, between obligation and liberty. Two? Um… I blush too much when I try to write a full-blown lemon. Sorry, peeps. R&R!

Blossom Utonium felt the incredible heat rushing to her cheeks, painting them a shameful shade of scarlet. She couldn't help herself from feeling like a furious tornado when her constant opponent, the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys, wore that arrogant smirk while spouting out many disguised truths about her.

"You can't stand yourself, can you? You don't want to be the responsible one all the time—the smart one. No, I don't think that's your style at all," Brick said, crossing his arms over his chest.

They were battling on a rooftop somewhere in Central Townsville, when their only audience was the alabaster moon to spotlight on the action. Blossom narrowed her pink eyes at her perceptive counterpart in a dangerous glower. It took every ounce of restraint in her being not to crack his witty skull wide open.

Nobody was watching. Nobody would suspect that the intelligent leader of the Powerpuff Girls to commit murder. Nobody would care. . .

Her breathing became heavy upon listening to Brick's rough voice egging her on. Blossom had to be within a safe distance from Brick, not allowing the unquestionable rage get the best of her. She was better than that.

Was this how Buttercup always felt?

"I bet you're dying to find out what sin tastes like, right?" Before Blossom knew what happening, Brick had her body pinned against the concrete roof. He straddled her hips, holding down Blossom's wrists. "Are you? Do you want to know what it feels like to be just a little naughty, pretty Blossom?"

"Get off me!" She demanded, struggling beneath him.

"Shhh. . ." Brick murmured huskily, releasing one wrist. She was steady, calculating his movements now.

He trailed his large index finger to Blossom's red cheek, then gently cupping it. Brick caressed the flesh, taking his sweet time in hopes to bring the pink Powerpuff to the edge of lust, and then proceeded to roam downward slowly—teasingly—until he found an erect nipple beckoning his name for some attention. Brick brushed his digit over the pink fabric, feeling it harden it even more from underneath.

"This excites you, Blossom. I can feel you yearning for a freedom you would never let yourself have." God damn that voice, always oozing with a challenge he already knew Blossom would never take part in. Damn, though, if he didn't make it sound tempting.

"No!" Blossom screeched—body and mind completely at odds with one another—using her free hand to punch him in the head, and shoved the red Rowdyruff Boy off her.

"Mother fuck, ow!" Brick yelled, as Blossom switched their positions around, so that she was on top of him. "Well done, Blossom. Well done."

Her heartbeat quickened within the moment, realizing that her body wanted to betray each one of her morals, as she put her hand to Brick's throat. She ached for two things—his blood to coat his hands like a lotion and friction. Blossom briefly hoisted herself up, lifting up the pink dress a little to give her womanhood better access to Brick's erection.

"A red thong? What, are you thinking about me when you're all wet and horny?" Brick questioned, somewhat rhetorically—not that he wasn't curious to find out the answer.

Why was he right about everything?

"Do you ever stop talking, you moron?" Blossom inquired, tightening her grip around his neck, and fought the need to snap it. She had another situation to take care of first.

Truth be told, she liked it more than she was willing to confess—the dare rolling of his devilish tongue and desire in his crimson orbs. It set her body aflame with heat.

Still, she hushed Brick with a devouring kiss, maneuvering her tongue in the warmth of his mouth. Mmm. . . was the best thing Blossom she could think of to describe this kiss. There was so much fury and passion behind it, the mixture not spurring her on, but making her hesitate.

Stop it, her mind begged, as Blossom rocked her weeping pussy on his cock—both shielded by some sort of clothing. This isn't you! Get a hold of yourself, Blossom! Remember who you are! But her body wanted a delicious evil, and then she vowed that would be it. Blossom wanted to be somebody else, to be rid of heroic obligations and discover the wild streak from within, even if it was just for a minute.

Her head was spinning with indecision.

"Angh!" Blossom groaned, riding Brick as if he was an untamable horse, and maybe he was. . . He represented everything that she wanted out of her miserable life. She was jealous of Brick—for his lack of responsibility, for his willingness to cross every line to get her, and for his frozen heart.

"Let go, Blossom," Brick grunted with his husky voice, and jerked his dick upward further into her, despite his pants still being on. She was so close. "Be who you really are deep down. Let go!"

She had never felt so alive and so broken at the same time. Dead, almost. This was all so wrong.

Blossom was the commander of the Powerpuff Girls, the amazingly bright girl at school who could do no wrong. What would Bubbles and Buttercup think about her if they knew what she was doing with this pathetic lowlife? They would probably ridicule her, and call her for what she really is—a hypocrite with fake virtue. But it was so difficult to pull away, not when she was about to burst with ecstasy.

And then suddenly, it all disappeared from underneath her—Brick, the night sky, and the rooftop. The only thing that remained was Blossom's longing for release.

She was left staring at the tile floor, clad in a pink nightgown as the florescent lights poured down on her peach skin. Her heart was still pounding from the fading sensation, while her irritation grew.

"Bl-Blossom?" Bubbles stammered in an exhausted voice, rubbing the sleep from her blue eyes. "What are you doing in the Training Room so late?"

"Oh! I couldn't sleep!" Blossom replied.

She sighed, never even having an artificial freedom.