Note: Just a quick note for my followers, after a few more Love Box chapters, this story will be my main thing. (Not that I'll stop doing The Love Box, mind you)
As always, let me know what you like, what you don't like, all that stuff. Love hearing from all of you <3
--
I picked up a cup of coffee that Abigail, my roommate, was kind enough to heat up for me. The cold of the morning time thawed just a little as the dark liquid slid down my throat. Behind me, the living room TV went on with a news report.
"Following the reports of a new hero on the scene, Angel Breasts has gained a substantive amount of popularity due to her eccentric choice of fighting crime without a shirt on. A bystander had this to say."
The camera cut to an interview of a bald man with a mustache so thick I worried whether he was able to breathe properly through his nose.
"Yeeh, yeeh, I reckon she showed up 'nd gosh darn it, her chest pillows were swingin' that-a-way and this-a-way and, gosh, I was mighty worried my wife would catch me starin' 'an give me a proper beatin' again."
"Again?" The reporter asked.
"Why yeeh, I once did a thang wit her sis and man she ain't never lemme live dat down."
The reporter grimaced and turned back to the camera.
"A-Anyway, the superhero was last seen stopping a drunk driver speeding on the highway." The camera cut and showed footage of me, blushing even harder than I was right now, standing in front of a drunk frat boy, tits in the air, waiting for the police to take him down to the station. "Interestingly, the driver was quoted as saying 'for that view? It was worth it'. More on Angel Breasts at six."
I facepalmed.
Why was I fighting crime without a shirt on? Because my mentor told me to...
**Three days ago, after the incident with Tundra**
"I'M RUINED!" I yelled into my phone. "RUINED."
"Cassie," my mentor laughed on the other end, "Cassie, calm down."
"NO!" I shook my head, despite the fact that she couldn't see me. "I won't be able to live this down!"
In the past couple of hours, I'd gotten hundreds of texts from people I hadn't even talked to much in High School. All of them telling me they were proud of me for taking a stance in favor of women's right to be shirtless. Of course, no one actually believed or cared about the fact that it was an ACCIDENT.
"Cassie, let me tell you something," Tyra said. I shut up momentarily. "Starting out as a hero is really, really difficult. There are already so many great people out there that standing out in and of itself can be a very tall mountain to climb. But look." She sent me a link to a forum with her phone. My eyes widened. With shaking hands, all I saw were people either joking about me light-heartedly or praising me. "You've been handed a path to stardom, Cass. This was the kind of thing I dreamt of when I was starting out."
"So, what do I do?"
"I think you would be foolish not to take advantage of this. So, run with it."
"And how exactly do I 'run with it'?" I asked.
"Well, it's your tits that got you famous right? Show them off."
**Present Time**
... And that, sadly, is how I ended up stopping a bank robbery with my boobs out in the air.
"Halt, criminals!" I put my hand up, not just as an indicator for the four armed men in black ski masks to stop, but also to hide my furiously blushing face. The bank's air conditioning was... Way too cold. Fuck. This was a horrible idea. Goddammit. "Your crime spree is at an end!"
"Holy shit..." One guy said.
"It's Angel Tits!" A hostage, one of the bank tellers, said. Everyone in the room, men and women alike, civilian and criminal alike, were gawking at me. "We're saved! Her boobs are just as big as they looked online!"
I squirmed a little.
"Shut up!" I yelled out. "I'm here to stop crime!"
"She's so fucking hot." One criminal whispered.
"Don't let her get to you, bro!" One of his partners smacked his shoulders. "She's just using her tits to distract us!"
"Brooooo..." The other guy said as he'd just had the realization of a lifetime.
"COULD YOU SHUT UP ABOUT MY TITS ALREADY!?"
Enraged, I lifted my hands. From my palms, white beams of energy emerged, slamming directly into the enemies in front of me. One fell behind the counter, another tangled up into those little velvet ropes every bank uses to organize their clients. The others were laid out on the floor.
"S-She won!" One by one, the hostages began applauding. I could imagine my head looked like a tomato. A woman walked up to me.
"Excuse me!" She was a young girl with glasses on, in a banker uniform. "Can I take a picture with you?"
I sighed. Growing up, I had always wanted fans. Taking pictures with my topless self wasn't exactly what I had in mind. But, I wanted to be the most admirable hero possible, so I said:
"Sure."
Then, she leaned against me, aimed her phone at us with her left hand and with her right she wrapped her arm around my body and squeezed my right boob.
Just as I started squealing, she snapped the picture.
--
**Back at home**
"So," a news anchor asked her partners, "what do you all make of this? For those of you who don't know," she turned toward the camera, "recently, Angel Breasts was seen stopping a bank robbery. After which, she took a very curious picture with a fan she happened to save."
I cringed on my couch, putting my head in Abigail's lap, who simply rolled her eyes at me as she kept watching.
The tv showed the picture that woman had taken, that featured me mid-squeal as she squeezed my boob harshly, a proud grin on her face.
On the bottom of the screen, I could see the number of likes and retweets this got on the bird site. Yep. Everyone saw it.
"I think it's despicable!" One old man whose last time seeing an actual boob was probably before I was born, said. "Why, I remember back in the day we had actual superheroes. Buff all-American men that represented our values proudly. This??? These kinds of women? This is degeneracy! I'm disgusted." He finished, red in the face. "How do I explain this woman to my children?"
"You explain to them that a great woman is out there taking care of problems a lot of men have been having trouble with." Another news anchor said. "Is that a problem?"
"Oh don't play the sexism card. I don't even care that she's a woman." The man threw a stack of papers to the floor.
"Anyway, I think she's great. Can we bring up the picture again?" She asked people behind the camera. I groaned. "Do you see those stretch marks? ALL-NATURAL boobage. I think she sets a great example for modern women."
"Sure, but" another woman intervened, "don't you think she's just appealing to the male gaze? I mean, come on, if you ask me this just sets up unrealistic body standards for the young women of the country. I think her presence is hurtful for women everywhere."
"THANK YOU!" The old man replied. "Thanks, Susan."
"My name's Rachel."
"Whatever."
I turned the tv off.
"I can't watch anymore of this." I grumbled into Abigail's lap. "I'm never going out again."
"Oh, cheer up." She started rubbing circles on my back. "At least you got the bad guys in the end."
"ABBY!" I raised my head. "I'M A SEX ICON!"
"So?"
"I don't wanna be a sex icon!" I shook my head. "I wanna be a hero!"