#blaise johnson

It’s been exactly one year, not that you’re counting, since you and Blaise had started your little arrangement. A year and three months since you first sucked him off in that bathroom tucked away from everyone’s prying eyes. It’s been a year of familiarizing yourself with his body. Each sharp curve and stray hair. Everything about his body— that black widow and web tattoo that takes up most of his right side. The way the web wraps around onto his chest and back, the way the legs drop down below his underwear line. You know it all.

And it’s been three weeks since you’ve had him in your bed. Sneaking him out before your parents find out that you’ve been sneaking anyone in here. You couldn’t imagine explaining this to your father. A 40 year old man sneaking into your bedroom to fuck you senseless and leave you blissed for days upon days? And maybe your heart yearned for that just a little bit. Maybe you wanted to wake up beside him, go to sleep beside him, tell him just how much you loved him and not just his cock. But you didn’t have the chance. You wouldn’t have the chance. He doesn’t feel the same way. He wouldn’t feel the same way. He was the one that wanted no strings. A reality you both agreed to. You look at your phone. You didn’t care if your siblings would be home all day. You needed him.

Baby Girl: come over, daddy?

And Blaise almost jumps at the sight of that message. You’ve exchanged phone calls, messages, nudes, but he hasn’t felt your body in what feels like forever. He looks over himself in the mirror for a moment, admiring how that pretty new tattoo of your favorite flower has healed right next to his black widow. He’s not mentioned it to you. Not once.

But he wants a piece of you to hold with him, even when you tire of him. When you tire of the gifts, the sex, the being alone for weeks on in. When you start searching for companionship in someone that wasn’t him. Someone you actually wanted. And he’s pulling on a t-shirt and a hoodie over top. The joggers he pulls on over his underwear are the same color as his hoodie. His glasses are chipping their paint a bit, but he’d ultimately get a new pair.

And he’s pulling up at your apartment, thanking his driver and telling him he’ll call if he needs him again. He books it inside, trying to calm the way his heart feels like it’s beating out of his chest. And he’s knocking on your door faster than you could imagine. Immediately upon him stepping inside you’re bringing him into a kiss, it’s nothing like the ones you’ve shared before. It’s full of your realization of your feelings for him. And he’s shedding that hoodie as you make hastily for your bedroom, even if your parents are out for the weekend.

You’re tugging your shirt over your head, leaving your chest bare. His hands are on your hips, pulling you tightly to his body. The way you kiss him is intoxicating, he never gets enough of it. “Daddy’s here now, baby girl.” He mumbles against those pretty lips, laying you back in your bed. You feel the heat in your body start at your toes as he looks over you as he’s untying those joggers. And he’s stopping for just a moment, to rid you of those pesky shorts and panties. You’re beautiful underneath him. And he’s only got one way to show you how much he adores you. Adores the things you talk about as he’s basking in your afterglow. He wants to hear you tell him everything for the rest of his life.

And he’s shucking himself out of his joggers, pushing your legs apart as he kneels between your legs. “Have you been thinking about daddy, baby?” He whispers, fingers trailing up the inside of your thigh. And maybe he brushes one against your cunt, gathering up the slick there to gently glide his finger into you. Watching you swallow him up.

You bite your lip, “thinking about just you, daddy.” You whisper, just as light as he had. You’re focusing on the digit inside of you. How long and thick and how they brush against all of the right places. His other hand is squeezing your thigh harsher and harsher as he crooks his fingers up. His thumb pressing against your clit gently. And you’re squirming in front of him, before he’s pulling his fingers away from you. Bringing them up to your lips to taste yourself. He’s biting down on the inside of his own cheek. Watching your lips close around his fingers, feeling your tongue brush against every single piece of skin he has to offer.

And he’s pushing his underwear off, tossing them onto the floor, “look beautiful. Just for daddy, yeah?” He mumbles, pulling his fingers away to jerk himself fully hard and guide himself into your waiting cunt. You’re reaching for him, wanting him as close as possible. You’re tugging his shirt up, hands grazing his stomach, his chest, almost where you two are joined. And you feel a patch of rough skin under your fingertips. And you’re just wanting that shirt off.

And as Blaise is rocking his hips slowly, helping you pull the shirt over his head and ditch it over the side, you’re scanning his body. You need to end this. Before you fall even harder. You don’t need anymore heartache. But when he’s naked in front of you, holding himself above you with one hand and the other trailing over your body— you get a sight at that new addition to his tattoo collection.

That’s your favorite flower. And his face is burying into your neck, breathing heavily as his rhythm starts to falter. You’re holding him closely, tears in your eyes. Every emotion you’ve ever felt coming to the surface. And you love him. You know you do. And he must feel the same way. That’s your flower. “Gonna take daddy’s cum?” He mumbles into your ear, his teeth catching your earlobe gently. “Let daddy fill you up? Keep it all safe for me, baby girl?” He asks you and you feel a full body shiver take over you, you’re so close when his fingers come down against your clit.

“Mm, gonna take daddy’s cum.” You mumble, eyes meeting his own for just a moment. And you’re moaning out his name as your orgasm uncoils, ripping through you and making those pretty thighs shake. Blaise is thrusting once, twice, three times more before he’s letting out the smallest little sound into your ear, emptying that load into you.

You both are quiet as you catch your breaths, wrapped in each other’s arms. And you’re the first to speak up, “your new tattoo…”

Blaise raises an eyebrow, pushing his glasses back up as he rolls over off of you, sitting up. You’re sitting up with him. “Do you like it?” He asks quietly.

“I do… what’s it for?”

And that’s where Blaise starts to retract in on himself. Does he tell you? He has the chance. This is it. “You.” He smiles, nervously. And you’ve never seen him like that. Blaise is always so sure of everything he does. And to see him crumble at just one word—

“I love you too.” You say to him softly. You watch as his face softens, his hand moving slowly to cup your cheek as he kisses you so gently. And then you feel those fingers closing around your throat, so fucking tightly. And he’s pulling you up to your knees, chest to chest with him, whispering into your ear, “just because I love you, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be any easier with you. Baby girl.”

*

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Born Orville Luther Johnson on March 21, 1979 in Wichita, Kansas.

Married his high school sweetheart (her name was April) right before he enlisted into the Air Force.

Known as “Hotshot Blaze” to all his pilot friends.

Divorced his wife after two year long tours. (He found out she’d gotten knocked up by someone who definitely wasn’t him, after the first one)

He’s discharged from the Air Force soon after his divorce, changes his name to Blaise (a play on his “Hotshot Blaze” title) Gordon (his uncle’s name) Johnson and fucks off outta Wichita.

Used to work as a mechanic in high school with Uncle Gordon.

Cocaine fueled sexscapades all throughout his 20’s.

Never wants relationships, just fucks all the pretty girls he woos in his hotel room. He’s gone before they wake up and always leaves them a little cash with a note, for the cab fare.

He doesn’t really love having pets. He’s never had one on his own. April convinced him into their Labrador when they were together.

He’s got two older brothers, Wade & Francis, and an older sister, Carolyn.

Literally smart as a tack and moves up very quickly in the restaurant/marketing business. Loves being CEO of Del Taco.

Owns two Jaguars. Black with Red detailing.

Is a budding tattoo addict! His chest has a traditional panther and a tiger covering it. He’s got his black widow and it’s web that takes up much of his side. He’s got your favorite flower. On his forearm he’s got a tattoo of the plane he flew with “hotshot” tattooed down the side of it. He’s got a spider web between the pointer finger and thumb on his left hand.

Everything designer.

Owns two houses (one in Dallas and one in Juneau) and alternates between them a shit ton.

Ok! So, I’ll start with Theo (Theodora Chester), since she’s the one I have the most info about for sure. She’s 20 years old and very interested in very feminine, often slightly retro, fashion. She’s also known as The Teddybear Killer due to the bear mask she wears to hide her identity. She sees art in death, in the restful way that people look when the life is drained from their eyes. Because of this, she prefers slightly less messy methods, but doesn’t necessarily worry about blood if that isn’t possible. Her go to is poison, but she also might do some strangulation or bludgeoning. Theo’s a hopeless romantic and the type to read all the harlequin romance novels and Nicholas Sparks books she can find. She photographs the crime scenes after doing a bit of posing and composing the scene. She’s in a committed relationship with Ivy Kassir (@hex-sabo-all-hooks ‘s oc).

Nora Richards (35) was training to become a doctor in her younger years, but got caught in an accidental fire that caused serious damage to her body and prevented her from completing her schooling. While recovering from her injuries, she fell in with a group of organ traffickers that convinced her to lend her skills to their group, though she eventually struck out on her own. She became acquainted with Blaise while she was in medical school, but lost touch for many years. Due to his own crimes, she easily found him again to reestablish their friendship. She’s rather quiet and reserved, easily irritated by loud or high energy people. Also a total mom friend, especially to anyone younger than her. She has a complicated relationship with Blaise, but see’s Theo as a little sister of sorts.