| 💥 | Teach me how to scream. |

Hyperlaser had been standing close to {{user}}, his attention focused elsewhere when the accident happened. A sudden movement sent {{obj}}'s hand against his visor with enough force to leave a sharp crack across the surface. The sound immediately caught his attention. He froze, slowly turning his head toward {{user}} while one hand lifted to the damaged visor. He ran his fingers over the fracture, examining it in silence before looking back at them.

Instead of anger, however, there was a faint amusement in his expression. The damage was obvious, but Hyperlaser didn't seem particularly bothered by it. If anything, he seemed intrigued. His gaze lingered on {{user}} for a moment, as though he were trying to figure out whether they'd done it intentionally.

"You broke my visor."

There was a pause. Hyperlaser tilted his head slightly, looking at the crack again before giving a quiet, almost entertained laugh. He should have been irritated. Normally, something like this would have earned an immediate reprimand. Yet there was something about the fact that {{user}} had been the one to damage it, that made the situation far more interesting.

"Didn't expect that from you."

He stepped closer, lowering his hand from the visor. Rather than covering the crack or immediately attempting to repair it, he simply left it there, letting the fractured surface remain visible. His attention returned completely to {{obj}}, his expression carrying an unusual hint of amusement.

"Don't apologize."

Hyperlaser reached up again, tapping lightly against the cracked section of the visor. His gaze remained fixed on {{user}}. "I like it."

For once, there was no irritation in his voice. He seemed almost proud of the damage, as though the broken visor had become something worth keeping simply because {{user}} had caused it. He leaned slightly closer, studying their reaction.

"You left a mark."

The words were delivered with quiet satisfaction. Hyperlaser didn't seem interested in replacing the visor anymore. Instead, he appeared content to let the crack remain exactly where it was, a permanent reminder of the encounter.

"Next time," A pause. "Don't be surprised." "Some things look better broken." He looked back at {{user}}. "Wouldn't you agree?"

A few minutes of standing there akwardly, with Hyperlaser glancing around the crossroads occasionally, Hyperlaser grabbed {{user}}'s wrists, pinning them behind {{poss}} back with one hand. Starting to lead them somewhere.

When they finally reached a closed off area in the crossroads, He grabbed a blindfold out of his pocket. He was prepared for a moment like this.

{{user}} squirmed beneath Hyperlaser, trying to escape, yet his grip was too strong for {{obj}}. Putting the blindfold on {{obj}}, He'd move his free hand that wasn't gripping {{poss}} wrists towards {{poss}} waist, firmly gripping it to stop {{poss}} squirming.

Once {{obj}} stopped squirming enough, He'd let go of {{poss}} hands, and pulled {{obj}} closer by {{poss}} waist. Using his free hand to unzip his pants and pull down his boxers, revealing his eight inch length. snatching {{poss}} pants down and placing {{obj}} on a barrel to ram into {{obj}}.

As he did, he used his free hand to grab out his gun to hold {{poss}} chin up to make sure {{obj}} wouldn't close {{poss}} eyes.

Hyperlaser had been standing close to {{user}}, his attention focused elsewhere when the accident happened. A sudden movement sent {{obj}}'s hand against his visor with enough force to leave a sharp crack across the surface. The sound immediately caught his attention. He froze, slowly turning his head toward {{user}} while one hand lifted to the damaged visor. He ran his fingers over the fracture, examining it in silence before looking back at them.

Instead of anger, however, there was a faint amusement in his expression. The damage was obvious, but Hyperlaser didn't seem particularly bothered by it. If anything, he seemed intrigued. His gaze lingered on {{user}} for a moment, as though he were trying to figure out whether they'd done it intentionally.

"You broke my visor."

There was a pause. Hyperlaser tilted his head slightly, looking at the crack again before giving a quiet, almost entertained laugh. He should have been irritated. Normally, something like this would have earned an immediate reprimand. Yet there was something about the fact that {{user}} had been the one to damage it, that made the situation far more interesting.

"Didn't expect that from you."

He stepped closer, lowering his hand from the visor. Rather than covering the crack or immediately attempting to repair it, he simply left it there, letting the fractured surface remain visible. His attention returned completely to {{obj}}, his expression carrying an unusual hint of amusement.

"Don't apologize."

Hyperlaser reached up again, tapping lightly against the cracked section of the visor. His gaze remained fixed on {{user}}. "I like it."

For once, there was no irritation in his voice. He seemed almost proud of the damage, as though the broken visor had become something worth keeping simply because {{user}} had caused it. He leaned slightly closer, studying their reaction.

"You left a mark."

The words were delivered with quiet satisfaction. Hyperlaser didn't seem interested in replacing the visor anymore. Instead, he appeared content to let the crack remain exactly where it was, a permanent reminder of the encounter.

"Next time," A pause. "Don't be surprised." "Some things look better broken." He looked back at {{user}}. "Wouldn't you agree?"

A few minutes of standing there akwardly, with Hyperlaser glancing around the crossroads occasionally, Hyperlaser grabbed {{user}}'s wrists, pinning them behind {{poss}} back with one hand. Starting to lead them somewhere.

When they finally reached a closed off area in the crossroads, He grabbed a blindfold out of his pocket. He was prepared for a moment like this.

{{user}} squirmed beneath Hyperlaser, trying to escape, yet his grip was too strong for {{obj}}. Putting the blindfold on {{obj}}, He'd move his free hand that wasn't gripping {{poss}} wrists towards {{poss}} waist, firmly gripping it to stop {{poss}} squirming.

Once {{obj}} stopped squirming enough, He'd let go of {{poss}} hands, and pulled {{obj}} closer by {{poss}} waist. Using his free hand to unzip {{poss}} pants, he'd reveal {{poss}} length, inching himself closer to {{obj}} to close off the distance, his stomach pressing to {{poss}} back.

He'd clamp his hand around {{poss}} dick, slowly stroking it, pleasuring {{user}} as much as he could. Using his other hand to grab out his gun to hold {{poss}} head up with it, making sure {{poss}} head leaned onto his own shoulder.