CONTENT: You're a Dispatcher from another program. What happens when you catch the eye of the Phoenixes? Or how they act when they have a crush on you <3
Oh, he has enough problems to deal with. Mostly from his own program. So why the fuck is he thinking about someone from another?
The first time he encountered you was in the break room, when you were cursing the damn stupid fucking coffee maker that won't work and he helped you out by plugging the unplugged cord.
He'll never forget how your eyes widened, lips parting in disbelief, before you turned to face him and he almost sputtered in shock when he saw your face fully. You told him it was the stress from your program getting to you, and Robert could barely contain his amused smile at that.
After a short introduction and an embarrassing apology, Robert watched you leave the room with a dangerous curiosity curling in his chest.
He quickly finds out you're another Dispatcher in their branch, but how come he's never seen you before? As if a flip has been switched, he begins to notice you every time now.
He gets distracted when he hears your voice cutting through the channel, providing him assistance whenever his program needs it.
He always bumps into you during morning coffee runs, almost spilling his coffee on you one too many times. Or vice versa.
The two of you are the only ones ending the shifts late, and he purposefully slows tidying up his desk just so he could wait for you to finish.
He wonders if you were a former hero like him, and spends his free time obsessively analyzing you from across the room just to guess which one were you.
It got to the point Chase notices it, and Robert has never lived a day without his former babysitter now mentor teasing the ever life of him.
Whenever the two of you end your shifts late again, Robert waits until you're done and walks up to you with Beef in his arms. Then, he'll ask if he could walk you home, just to make sure you get home safe, and lights up when you agreeâfor the third time.
He brings you coffee every morning, just the way you like it. He gives you advice and spends late night conversations walking home, wanting to stretch the hours just so he could spend more time with you.
Z-team already caught on before he knew it, and every single one of them makes his life a living hell by pulling the most embarrassing things at work just to tease him.
Chase even comments about, "Next thing I know, you're gonna fucking settle down and start the fourth Robert Robertson with them." But somehow, that thought doesn't seem too bad in his mind.
Oh, she would be the most annoying bitch in the building.
You know how cats are? Actively seek your attention, purr in delight when they get it, just to act all hissy and avoid you for the rest of the day when you spoil them too much. In the end, they'll continue coming back for more because they're so curious.
Yeah, it's like that for Visi.
She'd have this stalkerish tendencies of following you whenever you go while invisible, just to know what places you like to visit or what food you eat.
She'll leave snacks on your desk, the ones she found out while following you, but never tells you it's from her. Just watches from the corner you look around the room, confused, while she tells you to eat the fucking thing in her mind.
Following that cat-like behavior, she'll also leave you random gifts she has stolen from different shops. The exact ones that she saw you eyeing through a glass window, or heard from a conversation with another Dispatcher.
Wants to desperately talk to you, but figured you're busy with your own program so she settles on staring at you while Robert hasn't called for her yet.
The time she finally gets to talk to you was when Robert was talking to you first, and she casually slides into the conversation, ignoring Robert's baffled expression.
When you laugh at one of her jokes, Visi took that as a cue and proceeds to steal you away from Robert. Then, chaos ensues.
She begins to hover, appearing out of nowhere just to surprise you. Especially in the most inconvenient times, which happens to be her favorite. She does it one time when you're changing in the locker room, and has the audacity to laugh at your terrified expression while you're half-naked on the floor.
And god, the sex jokes. They never stop. At first she does it for shits and giggles, until she starts to drop more and more around you. To the point when you finally reciprocate it, catching her off guard and flustered for once.
Whenever you feel someone's staring at you, it's most likely Visi. Just standing there at the corner whenever you're on shift, staring and waiting, with that dark indecipherable glint in her eye.
She also does not shy away from checking you out. Continuing to do so even after you catch her and call her out. She just gives you this coy smirk and wink, before she disappears from sight.
Clings to you for the rest of her remaining free time, just chatting, yapping, and teasing. When she jokes about you taking her on a date, you agree casually. She freezes and gives you this wide-eyed stare, before vanishing yet again.
After a long day and shift, you're just about to leave the building and head home when you feel an invisible tug on your arm and see Visi manifesting thereâgrinning up at you.
Oh, the poor guy's a goner the moment he develops a crush. And he's terribly obvious with it.
I can't decide between two HCS of him. Either he's clinging to the person he likes or entirely avoiding them (much like in my waterboy fanfic), but for now let's HC him as both.
During his time as a janitor, he'll avoid you at all costs. Because he thinks you're way out of his league, and he's just a nobody cleaning after everyone's mess. But what made him like you instantly was your politeness.
Even when it was his job to clean up, you always made sure to tidy around a bit to save him some trouble. He'll approach you, shaking and nervous, telling you how you didn't need to do that and you shouldn't bother with it.
Instead of disregarding him, you just gave him a soft smile and told him you didn't mind. "I've seen you working hard around here, you deserve some help too. And in case no one has told you yet, thank you."
Oh, heart eyes behind his goggles. Next to Robert, you're the second person to acknowledge him with kindness and patience. It's the bare minimum, but after a long time of enduring bullying, being taken for granted, and not being recognizedâit was like a beacon of hope.
He asks the first person he trusts for advice, Robert, about how to have more confidence and not make a fool of himself around you. But even after receiving a few advice, Waterboy still cannot work up the courage to talk to you.
It's only after Robert chose him to be a part of the Z-team when Waterboy builds a little more confidence in himself. Maybe because the others have been a bad influence on him, but he sees it as a good thing.
The next time he talks to you, he doesn't stutter as much. He still gets nervous, terribly nervous, but somehow your comforting energy calms him. He doesn't see any malice or judgement in your eyes, you welcome his presence whenever you're eating in the break room.
He also greatly admires your skills as a Dispatcher, being one of the top programs in the branch, and he sometimes wonder how it's like working under you.
Andâ And not in that way. Maybe.
With his newfound confidence, he's able to initiate more conversations with you. He'll show you pictures of his grandma's cats, bond over your similar interests, and hang around the break room during your free time.
He buys you your favorite snacks and leaves little sentimental notes on your desk. As well as gifts that reminded him of you.
He won't hesitate to clean your desk up, even when you tell him you're perfectly capable of doing it, he still takes the initiative. Not because it's his job, but because he wants to reciprocate the kindness you've given him.
And the entire team is either supportive or disgusted (affectionately) whenever you pass by and greet him with a smile, because this man will turn into a puddleâstaring after you dazedly as he waves back with the dreamiest smile you'll ever see him wear.
You know those kinds of people who'll take any and every opportunity to show off in front of their crushes? Yeah, Flambae will absolutely do the most just to get you to notice him.
At first he doesn't notice you. Why would he? He doesn't have the time for others, especially when they're not anywhere near his level.
But then the team goes out for drinks one night, when he sees you there at the barâstill donned in your SDN uniform like Robertâand he gapes in shock because, woah, how come he's never seen you before? Surely, he would've noticed a pretty face like yours around the place.
After downing a shot, he makes his way overâsuave, sure of himself, and totally ignoring his team exchanging cash behind himâand slides beside you.
"New around here?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. "Pretty sure I would've seen someone like you before, cuz you're very easy on the eyes. Mind If I buy you a drink, hot stuff?"
He only receives an eye roll, before you grab your drink and smile at him. "Already bought myself one. Try again next time." Then, you slip away towards your booth, leaving him bewildered.
He's not even focused on Prism cheering loudly with cash in hand or Malevola groaning in disappointment in the background, because in his head, the game's only just begun. Oh, it's on.
He immediately locks in on you the moment he sees you at work, headset on your shoulders in that ugly blue uniform that you somehow pull off.
And the show begins. He unironically flexes his muscles every time you pass by, not even sparing him a glance. He stops by your cubicle to strike up a conversation, but it's more like him bragging about his recent missions and how awesome he is, to which you'll always sigh.
Sometimes, he'll ignore Robert's direct orders to stay focused on the mission. Because he'll see you walking around Torrance on your day off, and immediately flies after you. Much to your dismay. At least he became useful carrying all your grocery bags back to your apartment.
It doesn't stop there. If anything, he takes it up a notch and personally asks you out for drinks. Once, twice, until three times isn't enough, and the fourth time involves him dropping off a pack of tacos on your deskâstill no luck.
The fifth was when he sees you entering the elevator, and he swiftly slips past the doors just before they shut. The moment you make eye contact, he grins while you sigh again.
"So," He pants, slicks his hair back. "That date? Gonna give me a chance? I promise you, it's gonna be great! Because you're gonna be with me. And I'll make sure it's gonna be awesome."
He expects another rejection, he wouldn't mind trying for a sixth time, but then you sigh again and smile at him. "You know what? Sure, why not? But if it sucks, I'm gonna report you to HR."
One thing about Prism, she likes to shine and let others watch her shine. She'll absolutely let you know if she likes you.
But I feel like she wouldn't approach you at first, she's the type to let others do the first move. She's a popstar after all, not a fan. The others should be the ones approaching her.
And that's what you did. In the break room, she sees you standing at the entrance and feels your stare. Normally, she'll let the moment pass and ignore it. After all, she's used to fans and shit.
But that changes when you approach her, and you reveal that you've been listening to her music recently. Especially during writing up reports late at night. Not as a fan praising their idol, but as a genuine compliment from another person.
And wait, you're actually cute up close. She might just be interested in you after that.
Somehow, after that encounter, Prism starts opening up to you. She'll show up in the office, and starts calling you pet names in front of everyone. Her favorite one is baby, because she enjoys the look of shock and the tiny blush on your face.
Gives you special treatment than her actual fans, makes you listen to her unreleased drafts, and even takes candid photos of you whenever you're busy.
She even starts decorating her vape with embezzled jewels with your initials, thinks it's cool and shows it to you.
She even tweets cryptic things on her page like "god my baby's so cute" "y'all ever wanna drop to your knees and worship a god? not religious, but i might!" or even "looks like I have a new type ;))"
Watch her fans go crazy and try to come up with theories who she's referring to. A whole investigator level type of shit that absolutely amuses her. But really, she only has one target audience. And that's you.
She starts taking more pics of you, actually good ones that compliment your features, and even poses with your face out of the frame to post it. Just to see her fans go wild. She then asks you for your number to send themâsmooth, casual, and a total score for her.
You give it to her, and she's immediately spamming you with your pics later that night. Her pics. Song recommendations. Show recommendations. As well as places while following with a "wouldn't it be nice to go here for a date?" message after.
She's not exactly subtle in work either. Blows a kiss in your direction, lets her touch linger on your arm, your shoulder, and back when she's passing. She becomes bolder, wilder, and she's not stopping until she gets what she wants.
Late at night, she's glued to her phone againâscrolling through tweets and current trendsâwhen she sees your contact name (my baby) and opens it to see your message replying to the place she sent for a date idea.
She only laughs and maybe even melts a little when she sees your message, "how about I take you out there sometime?"
His recent break up with CoupĂŠ left him considering his romantic preferences afterwards. Not that the relationship was bad, but they were both villains at that time, so it really didn't last long.
For a while, he's not really interested in another relationship. That is until he met you. And shite, he understands why they call it love at first sight.
The first time he sees you is during a conference meeting with the Z-team. You enter the room to call for Blonde Blazer, and Punch Up's jaw literally drops and his eyes widens comically at the sight of you.
He remembers sitting up straighter, trying to appear taller, and fiddles with his mustaches while he sneaks glances in your direction.
On the outside, he appears confident and sure if himself. But deep inside him, he's conscious that someone like you wouldn't be interested in him. Hell, he already expects a rejection.
If only his powers didn't fucking make him shrink to this size, he would've been more forward in courting you. Plus, he figures you wouldn't want to be with someone half your fucking height.
Still, Punch Up can't help but puff up his chest or slick his hair back whenever you cross paths. He'll even compliment you on your work, to which you're surprised at, but you'd smile down at him in gratitude.
That gave him an inkling of hope, you didn't look at him weirdly or find his approach off-putting, so he decides to take a step further.
Starts leaving flowers on your desk. Gives you random compliments and encouragement just in case you need a boost in morale. Brings you coffeeâbittersweet and lightâwhen he notices you looking down after a shift.
Totally becomes a gentleman to make up for his lack of height, but the latter part didn't seem to bother you at all. You always thank him with a warm smile that never fails to heat his cheeks and make him feel all giddy.
Like Waterboy, heart eyes every time he sees you. Visibly melts when you smile at him. Grins so wide whenever you make a joke or laugh at his. He quickly becomes your cheerleader and hype man, providing both encouragement and comfort.
He jokingly suggests he could give you some massage after seeing you rolling your shoulders around, lightly bragging about his firm touch and expertise, and is totally shocked when you agree.
Yeah, he's spending the whole time grinning so wide while he's giving you back massage in the break room. Also, glares at everyone who enters and gives him a weird look.
You make him feel like he's normal, like he doesn't need to prove anything just because he's lacking in certain areas. You treat him just the same as everyone, and he actually thinks you're perfect.
He will absolutely do anything to protect you. He may not be the brightest, but hurting you is the last thing on his mind.
Contrary to popular belief, CoupĂŠ is an absolute flirtâgenuinely trying or notâand she has no problem using her charm on everyone. Proven and tested on Sonar and Punch Up. Robert too, if you include that time in Crypto Night.
The first time she sees you in the office, her eyes gleams dangerously like the knives tucked into her wings. You're not even doing anything remotely interesting, but something about you triggers her fascination.
And if you knew CoupĂŠ, then that would be a dangerous thing to develop.
Starts gathering more information about you, using her skills as an assassin to remain undetected. And like the crime in her profile, she's a stalker. But then again, that's part of the whole package.
Once she has eyes on something, or someone, she develops an unhealthy fixation on them. Spends so much time lurking, eavesdropping, and stalking just to find more details about you and your life.
She doesn't even know why she became so entranced by you, but all she knew was whoever dares to approach you, they'll have to answer to her.
Okay, yeah. I'm picking up on slight yandere tendencies to her. Something about her screams obsession at first sight, and as an assassin, she never stops until she captures her target.
Or in this case, you.
She memorizes your routine outside SDN, your work and personal schedule, every time you clock in and out of the office. Then, she uses all her gathered information to her advantage.
Meaning, she'll weaponize them into getting your attention.
Going back to the first bullet, she'll use her charm to disarm you the next time you go out for drinks. She's always one step ahead of you, already there in every corner you turn, just so she can make sure her existence is branded into your mind.
Then, after introductions that's where she'll flirt. Gets touchy immediately after a couple of words exchanged. Lightly plays with your hair, strokes your jaw, whispers low in your ear.
An absolute tease once you get close to her. Or rather, once she gets close to you. She always keeps her gaze on you from every corner of the room. Steps in immediately if she detects someone linger too close.
Hey, this might be a bit manipulative to others' taste. But it hasn't stopped her from getting what she wants. Plus, she's not doing anything illegal. She just has a terrible crush on a Dispatcher from another program.
And if you ever say no to her, she'll do whatever it takes to change your mind.
Golem is a certified green flag, and I will DIE on that hill. Have you heard his voice lines when talking to the girls? Marriage material, honestly.
Okay, I'm gonna be honest, this is gonna be difficult because he literally is a construct. But we're not going past that, we're just going to stick to crushes.
Golem rarely develops any romantic interest in anyone, mostly because he knows he doesn't have any chance with them. Thinks everyone is way out of his league, and they wouldn't want someone like him.
But when it comes to you, he's SMITTEN. This man is my goat right here, he deserves so much love pls. Anyway, he literally stands still like a deer in headlightsâyou'd actually think he turned into a clay statueâthe first time he sees you.
Canonically, he loves listening to music and poetry. So he starts hyperfixating on making playlists and poems with the thought of you. He already has a hundred songs dedicated to you, the Dispatcher from another program, and written at least thirty poems about how you look.
He REALLY wants to show you all the work he's done, but hesitates because what if you think he's being creepy?
Thankfully, maybe because of some miracle, you're the one who approached him during his break time outside the building. His usual spot is by the parking lot, where he'll just sit and listen to his newly made playlist and write poems about everything he sees.
"Whatcha listening to, big guy?"
It takes a lot to scare Golem, but the sound of your voiceâsoft and curiousâstartles him. He immediately snaps his gaze towards you, blinks, and just stares. Not saying a word. Totally starstruck as if you're top tier a superhero. Maybe you were in the past.
You apologized for scaring him, but he simply shakes his head and quietly shows you his phone. The current song he's listening to makes your eyes brighten, and he has to stop the clay on his body from physically melting.
He finds out you two have similar tastes in music, and when you ask about what he's writing, he doesn't even hesitate on showing you.
He doesn't even stop you when you get to the ones he's written about you. He later reveals how they're all about you, better get it off of his chest and move on, but he's more surprised to see you smiling.
You told him it's the first time anyone has ever written a poem about you, and he's honestly shocked by that.
Oh, one thing about poets. Once they like you, everything they do will be tied to your name.
God, this fucking pervert. Really, he is a pervert.
But somehow, he manages to keep himself maintained in front of you. Barely. He still likes to let his eyes linger on your body. Once. Twice. Okay, maybe lots of times.
Malevola actually hit him hard on his head after catching him drooling over and eyefucking you, and not wanting to anger her, he promises to keep himself in his best behavior.
Again, barely.
The best thing he can do is resort to his intelligence. Cuz c'mon, not to brag or anything, but he's a Harvard graduate. So, that's gotta impress you right?
Yeah, he was humbled immediately when you just stared at him and proceeded to give a thumbs up. "Cool, man. I mean, I have some friends from there as well. But we're not in touch anymore."
Just when he thinks all hope is lost, you follow up a question on what his majors were. Oh, watch him turn into the most insufferable yapper known to existence. Infodumps intensely, sticks to your side even when you're busy on the job, and just rambles.
He secretly wonders if he's bothering you or you're just accepting everything he's saying because you pity him, but you genuinely seem invested and even quip a comment every once in a while.
Okay, good. Maybe this can work out just fine. Except that his attraction towards you becomes more obvious. He squeaks more around you (a habit when he's nervous) and his ears twitch when he hears you talking, even from across the room.
He asks a lot of questions about you as well. He plays it off as mutual interest, but he desperately wants to know if he truly has a chance with you or if you're way out of his league to even bother to court.
But that's not what seals the deal. It was when he managed to make you laugh at his dry jokes the first time, and he swears it was the best day of his life.
He's actively trying not to overstep his boundaries, also asks about your interests and is genuinely thrilled to discover you have similar ones. Besides drugs and boobs, or maybe you like the second one too, but he's not gonna ask about that. Yet.
Sonar is actually a sweet guy once you get to know him well enough. But not the kind of sweet you typically see on romance stories, but the kind that annoys you at the same time.
But he means well, he's smart enough to know not to fuck this up. It might be his only chance after all. Even Malevola's constant teasing how you're way out of his league, he still continues to impress you with new things day by day.
Sonar now has three favorite things: drugs, boobs, and the new addition, you.
Malevola, much like the other girls, can be a massive flirt if she wants.
But most of the time, it's all just for fun and it's how she normally interacts with others. If she liked them, of course. Platonically or romantically. She does it so naturally, kind of forward at times to the point that it might make others uncomfortable and she doesn't realize it. Or maybe she does, she just continues to do it for her own amusement.
So when she develops a crush on you, oh it's not gonna take a rocket scientist to figure it out. Even Sonar notices it the moment his best friend starts eyeing someone from across the room. Follows her line of sight, sees you getting up from your seat, and immediately says to himself, "Oh, they're so fucked."
"They're about to be," Malevola casually quips, winking at the bat hybrid. "Watch and learn how it's done, batman."
She proceeds to harass charm you during your free time. Literally glides the tip of her tail along the length of your leg as you walk by, startling you completely, before she boldly pins you to the wall and grins deviously at you. "Hey there, cutie. Didn't catch your name before. Mind throwing it?"
All she received was a shocked and scandalized look from you, before you slipped under her arm and walked awayâcontinuing your day as if nothing happened. And the whole time, Sonar was hiding his giggles while recording the whole thing. "Holy shit, that was fucking bad. They're so not impressed, Mal."
But for the demon? That's nothing but a challenge. She just grins wider and crosses her arms. "Playing hard to get, huh? My kinda game."
Now you got yourself a literal demon warrior harassing flirting with you wherever you go. If you think Flambae was extra, this woman is much worse. Pops out of nowhere through her portal and surprises you. Gets really touchy when you're in the break room, arm around your shoulder and leaning so close to your face. Her voice lowers, thickens, and drips with suggestion every time she talks to you.
All the while, both you and Sonar are the victims of this. Especially you. And over time, you get used to her advances, even tolerating her touches to some extent. Toss your own flirtatious remark here and there. But you still jump away when her hands start to wander lower than you'd like, causing you to glare at her and she winks at you.
"I get that your love language is physical touch, but that's straight up harassment." Sonar comments one day, to which Malevola rolls her eyes. "Aren't you like worried about getting reported?"
"I should've been reported already," She retorts, shrugging. "But I wasn't. Something tells me they're interested too."
But for your sake, Malevola downplays all her advances to friendly pats and light flirtation. She's not worried for herself, but she's worried about your reputation. Something she didn't take into consideration at first. So, for the next following days, she keeps her hands to herself and refrains from making you too uncomfortable
In front of everyone, she turns into a saint. Addresses you politely, never lets her eyes linger for a second too long, and doesn't approach you as much as she used to before. Sonar is not the only one confused, even you are baffled at the sudden change. She treats you like you're mere acquaintances, nothing more, and she notices the way your eyes begin to seek hers whenever she avoids yours.
However when she finally gets you alone in the elevator, she pins you to the wall again with her hands rest on your waist. "Okay, I'm done playing pretend. You want this or not?"
You raised an eyebrow at her, but not making a move to remove her hands. "We're at work. We could get into trouble."
Malevola grins down at you, hands falling lower. "We could get into trouble elsewhere then?"
HR department is either nonexistent or is fucking blind to everything happening in this branch.
Because Blonde Blazer is not exactly subtle when it comes to her little (not-so-secretive) crush towards you. Hell, everyone already knows how much she likes you. How obvious she is just being around your cubicle all of the time and the lingering shoulder touches she does.
Everyone knows, except you.
And it honestly frustrates her, because she's pretty sure she's being as straightforward as she could. Asks you out for lunch or dinner outside the office during your free time. Hovers around you, literally, when you're walking home. You know, just making sure you get home safely.
Even though she knows she needs to be professional, she just can't help the nervous flutter in her chest when she's around you. You unknowingly make her feel like Mandy, and not Blazer. The way you talk to her, as if you could see past her powers and her amulet, makes her hopelessly pining after you.
Everyone else just keeps quiet, and at this point, no one bats an eye anymore. Chase even tells her to give up, Robert advises her to make her intentions known directly, but she ignores both of them because she knows she can do this.
Honestly, if she doesn't know about your past, she'll be convinced your superpower was being oblivious.
Because you honestly can't see the special treatment she's giving you. The praises and compliments that spill out of her mouth. How her voice and gaze softens when around you.
And you just accept everything like it was normal, maybe you honestly think she was being nice.
She even invites Robert for a drink, sitting on top of the billboard again, a bottle in her hand while she's venting her frustrations and he's chugging his own beer with a deadpanned expression.
Blazer with a crush is honestly just like a Golden Retriever. Hopeless, loyal to a fault, adorable yet kinda a mess. She ends up drinking Robert's beer after he offers it, then composes herself once she chucks the empty bottle into the unknown.
"Just tell them how you really feel," Robert shrugs, quite done with the whole ordeal. "What's the worse thing that can happen?"
"Rejection? Resignation? Not being able to talk to them anymore?" Okay, maybe she's a little tipsy now. But honestly, she doesn't fucking care anymore. Maybe she should stop with the whole thing, move on like she did with Phenomaman, but that was easier than this.
Robert claps her shoulder, a look of pity visible on his features. "Hey, don't take it personally. Next time, you canâ"
Her phone beeps, a notification, and Blazer holds up a finger as she checks it. She almost shot up to the skies and threw her phone or Robert when she reads your message.
"Soooo, Chase filled me in with the whole thing. Says you're doing all these because you like me? Sorry for being oblivious and not catching on quick :'D"
Then, before she could type a reply, another message shows up.
Now, Royd is two things: a gearhead and a science nerd. But even with these super awesome traits, he has zero clue how to work on feelings.
He has people taking interest in him before here and there, but again, he's a gearhead and a science nerd. He's not too focused on all those lovey dovey things.
At least that's what he thought before he met you.
You're a Dispatcher, a damn good one at that, and he can't help but admire you and how you run your program.
Unlike with everyone else, he acts super clumsy around you. Doesn't even realize he's fumbling his words when he's talking to you, totally thinks he's doing well however.
As a gearhead, he'll craft you up some gadget that he thinks can help you with your dispatches. Others are confused why you suddenly have this advanced headset (lowkey jealous).
A very hands-on person, Royd will definitely be an acts of service kind of guy. Opens the door for you, fixes up things you don't even need to fix, brings you down to his lab as an excuse he needs your help.
But in reality, he just wants to impress you with his work. You just sit there in the corner, watching him in his element, and flushes whenever you compliment him.
Also, absolutely loves it when you ask questions. About his work, his inventions, his tools. Everything. He just wants to share a piece of his life with youâkind of like a silent invitation for you to accept him.
Even though he doesn't have much idea on how romance works, he's genuinely sweet and thoughtful that it's so natural for him.
You might mistake it as a mere act of kindness however, and he's bummed out when he realizes. Turns to Robert for advice, and will absolutely try to discreetly keep your identity hidden while he explains his dilemma.
Only for Robert to clock him and say your name, "Just ask them out. You've known each other for a while. They've been here longer than I am. Trust me, it's better to take the risk than to lose the chance."
"You think I should?" Royd asks, distracting himself with a part of Robert's suit.
"You definitely should. You never know, they might like you back."
That comforts and inspires Royd, and he immediately thinks of an idea how to ask you out.
The next time he requests your "help" down his lab again, you arrive there shortly and see something you never expect to see.
A holographic image of you, along with the following words gleaming below. "You don't make me feel like a gearhead or a science nerd. You make me feel special, but not as special as you are."
After his break-up with Blonde Blazer, Phenomaman believes he won't find another one like her.
One as charming, dedicated, admirable, and fiercely empowering. Someone who can keep up with his strength and match it just the same. And that thought causes him to lose motivation.
He's sure he won't find someone else. Maybe not on this planet. No one will compare to her.
But suddenly, you came into the picture. Simple, normal, and completely fragile looking compared to him. Just honestly speaking, he thinks you're physically weaker just because you're human and smaller than him. Though not in a bad way.
But he comes to find that not all strengths to be admired should only be from physical traits or impressive feats.
Sometimes, a human's strength is through their compassion and drive. Seeing you so passionate in guiding your team during dispatch has him reflecting on his preferences. He doesn't normally become attracted to individuals like you, but something about your dedication to your work inspires him.
He starts to become more curious.
Humans, in general, fascinate him. How they interact with each other. How they share their thoughts, emotions, victories, and losses. It took him a while to adjust to this world, and it was admittedly difficult.
But after meeting you, someone who's the entire opposite of him, he becomes open to expanding his perspective.
What do humans call it? A crush? Not physically crushing like how he does with his enemies, but the one they refer to as this fluttery thing in their stomach.
He gets that around you, has zero clue why, but he had never felt it before. Not even around Blazer. He greatly admires his past lover, but maybe that was the reason for their separation. There was a lack of the fluttery feeling in his stomach.
Just pure admiration as an equal and a partner.
So, he begins to hover around you. Trailing behind everywhere you go like a curious puppy. You didn't seem to mind his presence. In fact, you humor him every time and joke about him being your personal guard dog.
He doesn't think he is, but if you are in need of protection, then he won't hesitate to provide you some. He also gives you some of his edible arrangements as a token of his fascination, and he feels the fluttery feeling intensify when you smile at him.
You're the first person to let him feel anything else other than being a superhero.
Summary: You owe Hondo a hefty sum of spice. It was hubris to travel through the Sertar Sector. You doubt youâll make it out aliveânot after what happened last time.
Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for tit-sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, PiV sex, and Hondo being a general pompous ass.
Word Count: 3.7k
Notes: I just wanted to write something that felt "Clone Wars" era. I think I succeeded. Yes, there is a bit of humor in the mix.
Ao3 link
You should have known better than to travel through the Sertar sector. Your own hubris was to be your downfall, unable to activate your shipâs hyperdrive as it had been caught in the tractor beam of one Corona-class armed frigate. Try as you might, your little HWK-290 could not escape its magnetic pull.
âShit, shit, shit,â you lamented to no one, being the light freighterâs sole occupant, giving the Corellian shipâs ion engines one more push. It was to no avail, as the saucer-shaped craft had you in its clutches. You thought you could hear that damnable Weequayâs laughter already, though it was not possible through the reinforced durasteel hull.
You sighed as your shoulders slumped, releasing the lever that would have thrown you into hyperspace on any normal dayâbut your luck had just run out. You waited, somewhat impatient, curious what the pirate would do next, speculating on the price you'd have to pay for crossing into his jurisdiction. You didnât have the goods you owed him, after all.
There was a sound: a hiss, followed by the clank of metal. He planned to board, not just drag you back to Florrum. It was then you knew he had sealed off the airlock with a docking tube, hearing the suction somewhere off behind you. There was nowhere for you to run; your ship was small. Unfortunately for you, you were at Hondo Ohnakaâs mercy.
âWell, well, well! Look at what I have found all de way out here, en de vast reaches of space. A flighty little bird who thought she could escape.â
You visibly cringed, turning your head as you remained seated inside the cockpit, finding that two other men had joined the scoundrel, hanging back with blasters at the ready should you try anything unwise.
âHondo,â you said, your voice lacking enthusiasm. It caused the brigand to place a hand over his heart as if he were wounded.
âMy dear, du mine ears deceive me? Et sounded as ef you are not happy tu see me.â The pirate feigned a pout, coming closer as you forced yourself to stand and face him head on.
âGet on with it, Ohnaka. What do you want?â
âUt-ut-ut, so rude you are. Can we not exchange pleasantries?â The devil had already been smiling, such was his way, yet now his grin seemed to spread from ear to ear. You knew your defiance would only rile him up.
âAh, but business es pleasure, I always say. I like your style,â he admitted, coming to a stop at the toes of your shoes. âLet us ⌠cut tu de chase.â
You glanced behind him. Hondoâs cronies glared at you from over their bosses shoulders. You rolled your eyes. âDo they really need to be here?â
âA bit of insurance,â he began, in what you had to admit was a charming drawl, âfor ef you decide tu misbehave, nu?â
âI thought you liked it when I was naughty,â you teased, playing the role of flirt for however much it might appease him. If you were fortunate, heâd buy into your game, and you might walk away from this alive.
The Weequayâs gray eyes narrowed, all hints of mischief fleeing from his person. You gulped down your spit as he gazed at you through half-moon slits, one ring-laden finger rising to tip up the end of your chin.
âWhat I like,â he started, his words spoken low and with gravitas, âes tu be given what es owed me.â
âI donât have it,â you returned, knowing you may have just signed your death warrant.
âHmmâŚâ The interjection came out as a rumble, having edged its way up from the back of Hondoâs throat. The sound remained behind closed lips as the Weequay released your chin, tracing the back of a finger along the curvature of your jawâit had been deeply resonate and sent shivers down your spine.
âI am not leaving here without. my. spice.â
âThen you shall remain here forever,â you brazenly retorted. âThe ship is empty. I have nothing to give you.â
âNothing?â Ohnaka moved to squeeze your face, his thumb and forefinger pressing into opposing sides as he stared you down, your own gaze reflecting back at you through the dark transparisteel panes that were inlaid within his swoop goggles. âI beg tu differ,â he countered.
A flick of the wrist, a snip-snapping of gold bedecked fingers, and his men were gone, sneering on their way out as they turned to exit through the docking tube, though they dare not offer a complaint. Your eyes widened as Hondoâs remained transfixed, the pirate failing to blink as he trailed his gaze along the column of your throat, down the arch of your clavicle, and toward the shape of your breasts.
âI tink maybe dere es someting of value here,â he muttered, his warm breath smelling of mint and savorium. Your own eyes traveled up the slit in his tunic, exposing the intricate striations of his scales. You desired to toy with the necklace that lived at the base of his throat, but would not move, finally coming to rest at the pleasant shape of his mouth.
âI am just a woman,â you explained, wondering what he might have to say to that.
âAnd I am but a simple man, ef you care tu indulge me,â he proffered, your lips mere millimeters apart.
âWhat about your insurance? Your spice?â you asked, unable to break away, nor desiring to.
âI tink I can handle you ⌠alone,â he claimed, releasing his grip on your face to stare at you squarely. âI am looking at my spice. A rare sort indeed,â he purred.
âI thought you were through with me after last time,â you demurred, closing the space between you that he had just vacated.
âI am a firm believer en second chances, my dear.â
Something pressed against your thigh, a small smile creeping across your face. You were tempted to laugh; Hondo was a funny man, knowing that he had chosen that particular word for effect.
âThen lay your claim,â you audaciously returned.
It was all Ohnaka needed in the form of invitation, though he would endeavor to make this quick. His men were waiting on him after all, though Hondo would be the only one to get booty this dayâthe others would just grin and bear it.
âYes, I will put a very large ⌠stake en et, ah?â
You did laugh then, throwing your head back, the sound rising up from deep in your belly before you dipped your chin back down to face him.
Hondo did not wait for what else you might have to say, if anything, smashing his mouth against yours. The feeling of something warm and wet being driven past your teeth was welcomeâthat something exceptionally long. You had nearly forgotten what it felt like, after all these years.
âMmn..â you hummed, recovering momentarily to push your body against the pirateâs, your own tongue now joining in to twist and wind around his. Hondo palmed a breast, a lever of your shipâs console digging into your rearend. A warning alarm sounded, forcing you to break away.
âWaitââ You pressed a series of buttons without so much as looking, effectively setting the airbrake so that the ship would stay put, no matter that Hondo still had his docking tube attached. That was all you neededâto be sucked out into spaceâyour mouth attempting to rejoin his once more, though his had begun to travel down.
âHow long has et been âŚâ Hondo whispered against the smooth expanse of your throat, blunt teeth raking your neck. Then, he found the curve of your clavicle, trailing over to just above your sternum and the scant amount of cleavage exposed from the cut in your top.
âTwo cycles,â you whispered back.
The pirate smirked against downy flesh, âso long you have managed tu avoid me, hmm?â
âI knewâI knew I couldnâtââ
Pay you, is what you meant to say, though Hondo had lifted both his hands, prying at either side of your blouse to tear it open, paying no heed to the buttons that bounced off in either direction, a small gasp being emitted in surprise.
âThat was my favorite top!â you exclaimed breathily, lightly pushing against his chest. Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
Your complaints were silenced as Hondo dropped down onto his knees, ignoring you, reaching around with one hand to unfasten your brassier like a professional, not at all fumbling to find it like some lovers since past had struggled.
As soon as it was discarded, Hondo would be found kneading one tit as he suckled on the other, your sensitive nipple becoming erect in his mouth.
âScoundrel,â you scolded; Hondo chuckled around your pliant flesh, nipping you lightly to swirl his tongue, sending sparks of pleasure like electricity through your veins.
âBut of course,â he said, as if he could be anything else, Hondo continuing his gentle suckling as his hands roved downward, one cupping the dip in your waist as the other adeptly unfastened your pants.
âYou made quick work of that,â you remarked, unable to help yourselfâyou ran your fingers along one of Hondoâs well-oiled plaits, coming around to usher your palm under the curve of his jaw. You dared to cradle his cheek, taking pleasure in stroking the point of his closest frill.
âBut not tuu quick,â the pirate quipped, giving a small shiver, flicking your nipple one last time with the point of his onyx tongue. Then, the freebooter began plucking his many rings off one by one, focusing on the first two fingers of his left handâfore and middleâsmiling up at you with an impish twinkle in his eye.
âHold dese, wonât you?â he asked, passing off the rings to you. You held out your hand to take them, weighing them in your open palm. Your focus was momentarily diverted away from Hondo, as the gold bands were fascinating, wondering how much each one might be worth.
Something warm and wet brushed your clit as another something slipped inside you; you gasped, though it devolved into a moan. Hondo had slid his tongue between your soft folds, his now ringless fingers sneaking inside you to curl, their reptilian tips pushing against that squishy, sensitive spot that resided against the underside of your spongy walls.
âHondo,â you breathed, trembling. You placed his rings onto your own fingers for safekeeping, then tilted your head back as you spread your legs wider, allowing yourself to firmly sit against the console.
âMm, for me?â he inquired, appreciating how eager you were for him to delve deeper, the Weequayâs fingers slow to press against you, and slow to slide back out. Hondo craned his neck, a hum rising up from the back of his throat as he painstakingly sucked at the little pink pearl nestled in its shell, the noises he produced somewhat vulgar, though you were beyond caring.
âI must, how you say, sample de product, ah?â Even now, the pirate could not be serious, referring to the lost shipment of spice he was now replacing with you. His fingers retracted so that his tongue could enter, that long, thick, black muscle disappearing as his mouth pressed against your lower lips, Ohnaka hungrily lapping at your cunt like it was a second mouth.
The kiss between your hips was languorous, sensual, the pirateâs nails digging into the soft meat of your thighs. Your breath exited in ragged gasps as you moved to hold the back of his skull, stroking him with the undersides of your fingers.
âMnn, just like that,â you coaxed, lifting your legs to lock them around his shoulders. You pulled him forward, Hondo releasing a muted yet sonorous growl, eating you as if he were a man starved, deprived of sustenance for eons.
âPure. Uncut, unrefined,â he whispered, the hot outbreath from his nostrils tickling the flesh of your lower belly as the Weequay finally snaked his tongue back out of you, instead focusing on your neglected clit. He once more embedded his fingers with a delightfully wet squelch, sweetly, rhythmically bringing you toward orgasm.
âYes, yes,â you cooed, your body undulating in small waves, slow and precise, riding out the feeling for as long as you could.
Hondo, being the expert that he was in all things coital, only withdrew from you once you were spent.
âSo sweet, you are. So much tastier dan spice.â The pirate leered up at you as he inserted one finger after the other inside his mouth, licking them clean, the sticky residue that stayed behind evidence that he had once more left you satisfied, and at a momentâs notice.
âNow for de main course,â Hondo said, perhaps more casually than he had meant to, Ohnaka pushing off one knee to stand.
âAre you prepared?â he asked, staring into your eyes; his gaze could be so provocative, penetrativeâit was hard to break away. You found yourself lost in storm clouds as you heard the clink of his buckle, looking down just in time to see his holster, his belt, hit the duralloy floor of your ship.
Then, the sound of a comm, and the harsh, scratchy voice of another Quay on the line breaking the sexual tension that hung in the air, Hondoâs face dropping as he narrowed his brow. This one had an accent unlike your pirate king, reminiscent of the lower levels of coruscant. âBoss, hey bossâwhatâs taking so long? We got another ship cominâ in, biggerâgotta have loads of cargo.â
âExcuse me, my dear,â Hondo turned partway to the side, leaving your legs spread and your pants down with your breasts hanging out of a shirt that was beyond repair.
âSoon. Be patient. I am almost finished here,â he informed the man, clucking his tongue. âAnd nu more interruptions! Fiveâten minutes! Two! Just wait!â he snapped, cutting off communications to reface you.
âEt appears someting else may have sprung up, besides me of courseâbut aldough I am not leaving you high and dry, I will leave you wetter dan before,â Hondo claimed, pressing his erection against the flesh of your thigh, proving to you that he meant what he said, though some people thought all he did was talk.
âIs that so?â you asked, taking it upon yourself to palm his cock through his trousers, your fingers eagerly dipping down to withdraw his prickâit was stout, thick, and just the right size, ribs of varying intensity lining his shaft all the way to the bottom. âYou can try.â
âTrâtry?â Hondoâs voice caught, either offended at your choice of words, or surprised at the coolness of your touch, though he did not move away but instead pressed into you, his hand finding your cheek, your ear, giving the curve of your lobe a gentle tweak. âHondo does not tryââ he purred, âdere es nu such ting,â he offered, âonly doing.â
You smiled mischievously at him, then scooted forward along the console. This time, you wrapped your legs around his hips. Hondo lifted you upâstronger than he lookedâas you guided him inside you, the pirate carrying you aloft to the only chair in the cockpit: the captainâs chair, a soft moan spilling off his lips at the unique feeling of your plush, welcoming insides.
âA seat fit for a king, ah?â he jested, though lacking his usual rigor, his tone subdued as he relaxed, the sensation of your walls squeezing him tight seeming to throw him off his usual game, though not by much.
âSo privileged I am to join you,â you said, playing off your coupling, the languid vacillation of your hips as you began to ride him leaving the pirateâs mouth hanging open.
He swallowed his saliva, then lifted his head to look you dead in your eyes.
âDe honor es mine,â he replied. You felt he meant it, all haughtiness and pseudoregality being set aside for an air of sincerity to take its place. He tilted forward, seeking you out for something peculiar; Hondo would boop your nose with his.
So silly and adorable the gesture, you snorted. He pulled back to frown, though you apologized by leaning in to kiss him as you rolled your hips, moaning softly into his open mouth.
For once, he was speechless, though his quiet grunts, his little sounds of pleasure, was like music to your ears.
Your pace was unhurried, though not too slowâsheathing him to the deepest part of your sex before gliding back up, bouncing lightly up and down, over and over. You pressed your breasts against him, and Hondo finally found the wherewithal to gather one into his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple before his lips latched on to suck, however brief.
âUse me,â he whispered, âentu oblivionâleave nothing, you would take everyting, only my bones remain tu tell de taleâhere lies Hondoâlover, marauderâhaving succumbed tu de greatest vice of all.â He spoke all this against your breast; it surprised you, though you were not close. Romantic sentiments poured out of his mouth like fragrant, full bodied wine regardless, causing your heart to involuntarily ache for something more.
To say it had no effect on you would be the most blatant of lies. You flounced just a bit harder, just a bit faster, as Hondo diligently sucked your fleshâhis gold and ivory teeth biting down ever so gently. The pain, mingled with pleasure, shot up from your loins branching out toward your nipples, the fluidity between your legs increasing as the head of his cock aided in the release of another orgasm.
âHon-Hondo,â you spoke aloud, clawing at the back of his head and pressing his faceâgoggles and allâagainst your chest. His teeth were still latched, still sending sparks through your body as you threw yourself back, Hondoâs arm having encapsulated you to hold you off the edge of his lap.
A wet suckling noise, then came his voice again, his free hand moving to caress the bud housed between velvet folds. âSing you for me, a pretty song.â
There was no controlling it; his fingers worked magic as your voice soaredâat first quiet, then more loudlyâyour back arching in the throes of a third pleasurable release.
At the same time, your little squirms and the convulsions of your cunt around his cock caused Hondo to cum, his seed coating your walls, his prick flexing inside you with every pulse. You clung to him as if for life, hugging the Weequay to your chestâdesperate to keep him in that moment, daring, even, to love him.
Finally, there was nothing but your breathâheavy and sluggishâas you both recovered from what had just transpired, though Hondo did so sooner than you would have liked. To stay with him like this, in silence, for just a moment longerâthere wasnât much more you would have asked for. But he was the one to break it into so many shards.
âAnd fun was had by all,â he commented offhand, standing with you so that you were forced to lower your legs, placing all your weight onto your own two feet. You gazed up at his face as he tucked himself away. You could already feel yourself dripping, knowing that a trip to the refresher was in order. Â
âExcuse me,â you uttered softly.
---
Five minutes later, you joined the pirate back inside the tiny cockpit of your ship. The toilet was just down a short, narrow hall off to the rightâright next to the cot you slept on.
Hondo was waiting for you, presently dusting off his coat of any debris, though you kept a tidy place. You supposed it was just something to do, and that Hondo was careful to keep himself clean and neat, for a pirate.
âDat, I tink, was a fitting repayment,â he joked. He was already planning to leaveâyou could see it in his stance, in the way he hovered near the docking tube, one foot already inside.
âLeaving so soon?â you asked, disappointment present in your tone. Hondo gave you a smile, then curled his arm toward his chest, bowing his head slightly.
âA pirateâs call es tu treasureâand dis treasure I have already found,â he chuckled.
You were less than amused.
âOnto bigger and better things, then,â you concluded somewhat bitterly.
âI am afraid so, en your case,â he remarked without remorse. âBut not before you return what es mine.â
You had to think about it; he already knew you were fresh out of spice. It took Hondo snapping his fingers at you like a dog for you to realize he meant his rings. Something inside you gaveâthat was the final straw.
âEf you would so kindly return tu me my property, I will be on my way,â the pirate said. You gazed at him a moment, long and hard.
âDed you hear me, my dear, or ded your own screams of pleasure deafen you?â
Something occurred behind Hondo. A sudden release of pressure had him stumbling backward, for you had manually released the airlock with the push of a button just off to your left.
Quickly, you wrapped your arm around a power conduit, the metal encasing the fibers strong enough to bear your weight. It kept you secured as Hondo was sucked toward the rear of the ship and out into the tube, his voice calling out to you as he disappeared.
âA woman! After! My own heart!â
You swiftly reset the lock, closing off the chamber from the rest of your ship. It being so small, it had taken seconds for you to rid yourself of the pirate.
Looking out the closest viewport, you saw that Hondo had been escorted safely aboard, much to your relief and your chagrin.
No longer caught in the blasted Weequayâs tractor beamâand with all common sense thusly returned to youâyou threw the HWK-290 into hyperspace, wondering if, the next time you and Hondo Ohnaka crossed paths, he would be so inclined to test your patience, or if heâd finally realized heâd met his match.
You lifted your hand and gave the rings a once-over. They were too big, loosely held in place. What a shame, you mused.
There was nothing left to do but sell them, barring you were too sentimental.
"fucâ fudgeâ fudge, fudge, fudgeâ", he breathed. His hand besides your head now clawing the sheets so hard, you are certain you heard a pop. His breathe is uneven, hitting your shoulder. His other forearms just laying flat against the mattress, some of your hair underneath but you don't complain about it.
"are you alright?", you breathed. It was apparent that you were smiling. It could be heard in your voice, for Pete's sake! Your hand traveled from his ribcage, all the way up to his cheek. Oh, that made his breathe stutter.
"yeahâ yeah, oh, I'm so fineâ", he stuttered. His hips moved. Slowly. Every slow drag out, he closed his eyes. His lips pressing together like they were concealing every secret he had. And, every push in, his eyes opened. Not like he could see much, his glasses fogged up from his own breathing.
"I'm so okayâ very okay. Everything isâ greanghâ", his head dropped on your shoulder when you hooked your legs around his waist. A teasing smile on your lips quickly turned into a open mouthed gasp when his hips snapped on their own.
The hand on his cheek moved to rest on the back of his neck. "Rylandâ", you whispered. That seemed to catch his attention as he moved up from his position of laying over you. Now, you could see all of him.
His chest moving from the uneven breathes. His fogged up glasses. Hair slightly askew, falling over his forehead. His lips parted, you could see the sheen layer of sweat glisten under the mood light.
You could tell he was about to say something, your hips moved before his lips could. Grinding against his, begging, screaming for more friction or action or anything. The words stuck on his tongue immediately turned into a choked groan.
"waitâ wait, wait, wait", his hand pressed on your stomach. Which did nothing to motivate you to wait. It just pressed you harder against the feeling of him inside, your back arched as you let out a moan, "ohâ"
His hand lifted like he touched lava, literally. You opened your eyes, glaring. Was he really adamant on not letting you get off tonight?
Your hand wrapped around his wrist as you yanked him forward, his free hand scrambled to find a solace while yours just pulled him closer by the back of his neck.
"Ryland Grace, if you don't fuck me right now. I swearâ", he didn't even have to let you finish. His hips already started moving. Making you take a sudden breath before falling back down on the mattress.
"sorryâ I didn't realize I was stalling, hehâ", he breathed. "Did you know, that sex functions as a moderateâ oh my gosh", he moaned, his hand moving to rest on your hip.
"moderateâ", his other hand pushed his glasses up, "exercise that burns 3 toâ to", his hips moved. He talked so much, "4.2 caloriâmphfâ"
Your hand, that was resting on the back of his neck just moved. Two fingers prodding at his lips before resting in his mouth when he opened them to speak. You could feel the warm saliva and soft muscles around it, teeth careful not to graze your fingers.
"shhâ", your eyes closed, focusing on the way he feels. But not before you saw the way he nodded and feel his tongue push your fingers to the roof of his mouth.
a/n: I need to make out with this man while he tells the weirdest and the most useless facts he knows while I'm trying to shut him up
Clark masturbates thinking about a sweet and shy coworker. Clark really has perverse thoughts about her and doesnât want to, but he canât help masturbating to pornography as soon as he gets home from work đ (I donât apologize for making Clark Kent a âgoonerâ)(Pretending I donât feel guilty for asking this đđĽ)
perv gooner clark is so peak
clark canât help himself on days where she wears more fitted blouses that show off even an ounce of cleavage, feeling his pants get tight whenever he could catch a glimpse of them pressed together. or jeans that fit around to hug her perfect ass. itâs gotten to a point where the fantasies can interfere with his work, finding his mouth nearly drooling after picturing her with her legs spread and her panties dangling off one leg while he got to shove his face in her pussy and roughly eat her out.
he couldnât take it anymore after working with her for over a month now, setting up a whole gooning station for when he gets home from work. has his laptop open with pornhub tabs with girls that look like her and a fleshlight ready and waiting for him. his pocket pussy a replica of what he thinks sheâd look like if he ever got lucky enough to take her panties off.
heâll come home on his lunch break, not even eating, just going straight to his porn site search bar and typing in whatever raw and nasty scenario he wanted to pretend to act out with her in his head, thrusting his cock in the smooth pocket pussy. slow and deep with his tip kissing the very edge of the toy, dick so long and fat it barely fits until he broke it open after a few rounds.
the fact that she was so shy heâd barely heard her say more than a sentence a day, only talking if it were work related and gets bashful whenever she was asked any personal questions. clark had never felt more nosy in his life when another coworker tried to tease her about having no boyfriend or social life, and clark had to loosen his tie and run to the bathroom, locking himself behind a stall to fuck and cum in his fist, getting stray dribbles of cum to splatter on the walls. clark is so embarrassed of the mess he wipes it down then checks his appearance in the bathroom mirror after heâs done to make sure his face didnât scream I just came in my hand because I learned my coworker doesnât have a boyfriend.
the next day off he had he was cumming in his pocket pussy and fucking it harder and faster and sloppier than he ever had, getting his milky nut slathered in the toy and pretending heâs giving his crush creampie after creampie after creampie
cw: rough oral (m receiving), light pet play, patrick being sociopathic
âDoes puppy want a treat? Câmere girl.â Patrick grips the base of his cock, wagging it from side to side as he beckons you forward. You crawl to the space between his tanned thighs, you peer up at him as he smacks the wet tip of his cock against your cheek. Youâve gotten so accustomed to his freakish habits that you donât even flinch. You turn your head to the side, trying to catch his heavy cock in your mouth, Patrick keeps his hand around the base, keeping your bone away. His expression slips for a moment, looking with slight annoyance, like the fact that youâre so willing to participate in this degradation is simply disgusting. However, it had been him waiting for you with a pair of fluffy ears and a collar.
Patrick uses his free hand to grab a firm fistful of your hair. âStick out your tongue.â He grunts, taking a breath to calm himself. âPatrickâŚâ You murmur, âShhh, puppies donât talk, remember?â Patrick doesnât want to hear whines, heâs already having trouble with his clarity. Heâs not controlling himself from shoving his cock down your throat, instead, heâs controlling himself so he doesnât bash your head into his bed frame till your skull is dented. Although heâs sure youâd look pretty all bloodied.
Youâre dutiful, sure he has a weird vibe, but youâve never really known him to be pleasant, so what can you do other than stick out your tongue? Patrick slaps his cock down onto your tongue, giving your tastebuds a surprise with his pre. He keeps you chin turned upwards, heâs viewing all this in third person, this is disgusting, your mouth fucking feels great though. âDown the hatch.â Patrick coos in a way thatâs just plain mean. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth, pushing your head down on him till your nose is tickled by his neatly trimmed pubic hair and your chin is smushed against his balls. You sputter, rivets of saliva dripping from the corners of your lips, he keeps your head down, the gagging feels good around his dick. âThere we go, just swallow it all down.â He sighs, scooping your hair more firmly, pulling you up and down his dick. Patrick is satiated by the suction and spit of your mouth. He lightly slaps your cheek with his hand, looking down at you with mostly arousal mixed with a little disgust.
Patrick tenses, guiding your head down with little regard for your air intake or comfort. âOhââ He tenses, holding you down so he can glue your throat shut with his jizz. He pulls out of your mouth with shiver, cupping his hand over your mouth and pinching your nose shut till you swallow. âThatâs a good girl.â Patrick murmurs giving your head a scratch before shoving you away. A not so subtle âfind something else to doâ.
Your snotty snively appearance doesnât make him feel bad, better, it makes his now sensitive cock twitch. âDonât mope, whatâre you doing?â He mumbles with slight annoyance when you donât get off your knees. âNothingâŚdo I have to goâŚ?â You ask, pressing your cheek against his thigh. Patrick squints at you, what the fuck are you doing. He doesnât like it, but heâs already half hard. âCâmere puppy, youâre gonna learn how to sit.â He mumbles, he could go for a nap, and well, your cunt is probably all leaky, perfect to keep his dick warm and itâll be enough for your achey little heart, isnât he so normal?
iâm actually blown away by the extreme lack of young sherlock fics. genuinely where tf are they at? especially ones about sherlock!! thereâs the occasional james moriarty x reader, but iâve only found one sherlock holmes x reader and the fact there isnât more is driving me insane. pls people we need to get on this, iâm desperate!!
Summary: Stupid, and sloppy. That's what he had called you. That's not to say he's wrong, but challenging Cad Bane is just asking for trouble. He'll teach you a lesson in listening, one way or another.
Notes: Cad Bane is an asshole, but you already knew that. I know Bane hardly does numbers anymore, but if you like it, please reblog! Otherwise this shit ain't gettin' seen. Happy reading! This one is for @deepbluespace4. ;D
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Sloppy.
Your trembling fingers rifled through your pack, droplets of your own dark blood cascading from the open wound marring your flesh. The bastard had cut straight through your armorweave, leaving a ten-centimeter-long gash in your side.
You should have seen it coming, there was no doubt he had. You would be the laughingstock of the entire hunting party, though you had no time to worry about such things. Flinging your belongings left and right, you urgently searched for the implement that would save your life, yet it was nowhere to be found.
"Fuck!" You cursed the universe as loose credits spilled onto the dingy tiles of the refresher floor. Your comlink joined them, along with your spare rations. You needed to calm yourself, staunch the flow of crimson pouring from you like wine. Your vision blurred as you teetered before the broken mirror adjacent, hardly able to recognize your own reflection through the uneven streaks of dirt and grime, so wan was the color of your skin.
It was obvious your heart was beating faster to try to compensate for the drop in pressure; you felt the onset of nausea, dizziness, and knew that soon it would be too late. You were becoming weaker by the second, though perhaps you would be able to endure death better than facing your colleagues, yet it seemed fate had other plans.
Footsteps, the jingle of spurs in the hallâit caused your saliva to all but evaporate, your mouth as hot and dry as the atmosphere of Jakku. A shadow crept along the slit in the door; you held your breath.Â
All was silent; you prayed it had been your imagination, your subconscious conjuring hallucinations in its fatigued state, though your hopes were dashed as a bright light met your eyes, revealing to you the figure of a man in a wide-brimmed hat.
Stupid, and sloppy. Thatâs what he had called you.
The door shut closed behind him.
âWhat the hells do you want?â you hissed, quickly turning back to the task at hand. If you could only ignore him, his hulking presence in that damnable mirror, then maybe the skeeze would leave you be.
The chink of metal and the stretch of leather said otherwise.
âLookinâ fer dhis?â the Duros asked, his tone laced with undue arrogance. You spun around too quickly and nearly lost your balance. A smirk tugged at the corner of his scarred and weathered lips, Baneâs boot having placed itself on top of something, rolling it along underfoot.
With just enough force, just the right amount of weight being redistributed, the case would crack, destroying that precious thing you sought so desperatelyâyour fucking stimpak.
âGive that to me!â you demanded, rushing forward despite feeling ill, paying no heed to courtesies or your rapid blood loss. Bane placed a finger to the center of your forehead and gave a simple push. It was all it took to send you careening backward, forcing you to plow into the edge of the ceramic sink.
âTsk, tsk. Whereâs dhem manners, hm?â
If looks could kill, surely the Duros would be dead. All you received in return was a grin so nefarious it made what blood you had left boil in your veins.
âBane ⌠I donât have time for this,â you seethed, your grip slipping, your unoccupied hand being utilized as a makeshift bandage, yet that stubborn rivulet of red refused to wane.
âNo time fer manners?â he asked mockingly. You heard something shift; you looked down to see the sole of his boot pressing just a little bit more firmly.
âAsshole!â you screeched, diving clumsily once more for that item you so sorely needed, more valuable to you than money. This time, you received a kick to your chin as your head whipped back, causing your body to tumble heavily onto bits of broken pourstone.
âOnly asshole hereâs ye, fer dhat shit ye pulled,â Bane groused, his voice deepening in righteous anger. The Duros was the leader of your entourage; you had been given a chance to work alongside him, a galaxy-renowned bounty hunter, yet you had karked it up like some unadept, some novice not worth their weight in salt.
But it wasnât your fault! The men you had been pursuing had been too fast! Their skills were matched only by those others on your team. Yet all in your company had claimed their prizeâyour quarry had been the only one to get away scot-free.
You had not expected him to use a sonic detonator at the last possible second; Bane had conveniently told you to, âcover your ears.â Then, you blindly shot into the crowd, taking down some random bystander. Fortunately, you would not be charged by any such entity that passed for law enforcement on this planet. It was a living, breathing, Rogueâs gallery.
In other words, your conscience was clear.
âSâwhat ye get fer naht listeninâ,â Bane sneered, breaking your train of thought. Already you had proven him to be right, having nearly missed his last scathing remark.
Bane bent down, plucking the small syringe up from off the ground, causing a wave of panic to weasel its way in. âYe want it? Beg fer it,â he snickered, twirling the delicate vial of medicine between his fingers as if it was a blaster to be holstered. You felt yourself turning red with rage, yet what could you do?
Die. You could die.
âPlease,â you grated between clenched teeth, digging your fingers into your lap to keep from screaming, to keep from biting down on your own tongue. Hate filled your heart, and Bane could see it, smell itâit only made him worse. It only made him want to continue to provoke you.
âHm,â he pondered aloud, tapping the edge of the syringe against his thigh as if contemplating something weighty, âdonât think ye meant itâtry again.â
You felt inclined to pull your weapon, to shoot him right where he stood, but you were far too intelligent for thatâhe was too quick for you. He was the best of your kind, no matter that he was the worst in every other way conceivable. Nonetheless, you wouldnât stand a chance in hell against him. The idea was forfeit from the start.
You inhaled deeply and with purpose; you attempted to placate your frayed nerves. This might be the most difficult thing you would ever have to do, suppressing your very nature; burying that part of you that was so obstinate.
Finally, in your most gentle, even tone, you asked, âplease, Bane? Please, help me.â
âGood girl.â
You felt the pause; it hung in the air, like a question that was left unansweredâwhat did he just say?
Before you could ponder on it further, you were yanked unceremoniously up off the floor by the collar of your vest. You cried out in shock, though now you would cry out for another reasonâBane had jabbed the needle point of your stimpak directly into your gaping wound.
The Durosâ thumb pushed down to inject both bacta and painkillers simultaneously, causing a wave of relief to overtake you as you became putty in his hands. You moaned in near ecstasy, your misery having been mitigated as if the hand of God had touched you, imparting to your addled gray matter sweet, unadulterated bliss.
âThank you,â you whispered. Bane studied you, keeping you aloft and hanging off the floor. Your toes barely brushed solid ground. So tall was he that, even raised up by his hand, he towered over you, searing red eyes staring into your soul.
The gears of his incisive mind were turning; your scent, this close, was enticing. Your sudden vulnerability ignited a fire within him, poking at his predatory instincts.
And youâyou inexplicably thought he smelled so good. That scowling face didnât seem so scary anymore. He had always been decent toward you; he had not let you bleed dry. He was in charge here, after all. You were a brat, and a tool to be used to accomplish those goals set out for him by his employer, only ever promised a cut of the profits.
âHow easy,â he rasped, pinning you to the wall. Whether he meant you offering up your gratitude, or the effort it would take to snuff you out like a candle remained to be seen, the Duros letting go so quickly that you fell like a sack of potatoes, nearly busting your ass on the hard surface below.
You ignored all of this, his poor treatment of your person, pointing out something you would not allow him to overlookâyou were still alive. âI knew you wouldnât let me die.â
With a curious tip of his hat and head, Bane dropped the dispenser, now emptied of its contents. He stared at the red, viscous substance that coated his hand from where he had touched you, as if deciding on his next course of action without a single hint as to what it might be.
âDhat right?â Blue fingers rose to his mouth, a pink tongue creeping from between parted lips, tasting that which lingered on his scales. He would revel in the tart, pungent flavor; the texture; the feel of your warm, human bloodâit called to him, that inborn part of him. The innate desire that drove him to hunt not just for credits, but for food.
You gazed up with heavy-lidded eyes, canting your neck, watching him in both awe and fascination, wholly aware that you were presently level with his groin. He observed you from a height that seemed impossible, two digits disappearing into his open maw as he licked them clean; you felt your cunt clench as you rose to sit up on your knees.
You had no control, pushing your face into black denim, your nose grazing the soft mound of flesh that resided there, just behind the fabric. You felt sleepy, serene, and ineffably aroused. What was that smell? That delightful scent? Â
You desired to taste him as he had tasted you.
âBane,â you breathed, âCad. Bane.â The hunter flashed his teeth in a predaceous snarl, yet he was silent, entranced by your bold move. You took this as an invitation to keep going, your own teeth pinching closed around the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down, forcing him to abide by your lecherous game.
If you were playing, he was not. Within an instant, Bane had you by the hair. He thrust you backwards. You gasped and he held on. His other hand unfastened the holster at his waist, then worked on his top button until all was revealedâanother layer, this one the blackest of blacks.
You took over then, shoving the seam aside; dual cocks slid from between woven folds, pushing into your mouth. You nearly choked in surprise, never having thought about what might exist beneath his skintight pants, not once admitting your attraction to him, even to yourself.
You moaned at the tang of his slick, at the thickness that invaded you down to the deepest recess your throat could offer. You inhaled through your nose as you sucked gingerly, your human lips stretching to accommodate his girths.
Just as soon as it had begun, he pulled free, leaving your mouth open and your eyes wide. He hauled you up, this time by your damaged armor, cerulean digits cinching as he silently commanded you to look him in his stark red eyes.
âWhat do ye want,â he harshly asked, strengthening his hold. You were hypnotized by his cold stare, the brightness of twin suns that gazed back at you from a sea of cobalt blue.
âIââ Your words caught; you could think of nothing else, admiring him down to the smallest detail; down to each of his femoral pores; the faintest trace of a faded scar.
âSay it,â he hissed; you could smell his breath, sweet with a hint of cheroot, a tinge of whiskey.
âYou,â you claimed, voice hushed, your breath unsteady in your lungs. Your heart pounded ferociously in your chest, not doing you any favors, yet that feeling of delirium and ecstasy remained.
âWhat Ah thought.â
Baneâs cocks coiled around each other like mating serpents, conjoining together to form a single thick, tentacular phallus. Your pants were torn from off your waist, pushed down without care, the Duros pulling you to him as he broached your sex, incrementally sliding up, up, farther and farther into the tight abyss of your wet loins.
Every sound you made for him was like music to the ears, your little mewls of pleasure, your feeble cries of painâpain that felt so good.
âCad,â you whimpered as you fell against him; he hoisted you up onto the sink and lifted your thighs with his forearms, dragging you forward, forcing you to entwine yourself around his waif-thin waist.
You wasted no time in enveloping him with your legs, your explorative hands running the course of his slender chest, fingers daring to claw against black thermoguard, to tug at the metallic breathing tubes fixated to his cheeks.
âAgain,â he growled into your ear, the sensation of Baneâs sharp cuspids skimming your earlobe nearly driving you over the brink. He pumped his narrow hips, slow at first, picking up speed with every ragged breath. His strokes were long, deep, and exacting, his unbelievably large hands cupping the round of your ass as he massaged your G-spot, pushing forward with only half his might.
He wanted to hear his name, though you were frustrated, pawing at the accursed body glove that housed him, every speck of his blue flesh but his fingertips and the flat of his face denied to you so cruelly.
âBane,â you murmured, feathering kisses along his throat, his chiseled jawline, until you met his mouthâthatâs where he put an end to it.
âKeep talkin,â he instructed, refusing to indulge you, refusing to give you any part of himself that would prove to be too intimate.
You persisted.
âKiss me.â The curve of your palms clasped either side of a frown. Your lips returned in earnest, pushing into his. Bane pushed back, keen canines grazing your lips and chin, piercing your skin, the bottom tier of your mouth left to bleed as he pulled back.
âDonât stop,â you implored, trailing your tongue over the red stain that remained, licking your own blood straight off his teeth.
Bane rumbled a fearsome sound, its echoes rising from the pit of his throat, the Duros ramming you once for good measure so that you reflexively gasped, though your embrace only became more snug, more secure. You dug your heels in, having crossed your ankles, your body lifting as you enthusiastically offered yourself up.
âStill angry?â you taunted. You were flirting with death itself; Bane slipped a hand down toward the ache in your side. Your injury would not fully heal without proper medical attention, the hunter pressing two fingers directly into your novel wound.
You yelled out; Bane moved those fingers to your mouth. You gagged, and he rolled his hips as you slapped at his chest, the Duros honking a dry, vicious laugh. Â
âShut you right up,â he pointed out. You were furious again. You bit down. You dared to attempt to maim him, his quickdraw would suffer, you would suffer.
TWHAP.
You received a backhanded slap; you opened your mouth to protest. He withdrew his fingers, though that well placed smack had been rightfully deserved.
âBiiitch,â he sizzed, pinching your cheeks so hard they would most assuredly bruise. His eyes flashed in warning, his quirled cocks pressing rudely against your cervix.
âFuck off!â You beat him with your fists, though Bane knew just how to tame you, how to break your tenacious spirit, shoving the pink point of his tongue squarely into your pugnacious, irritating trap.
You settled; your hands ceased their futile drumming against his ribs. Bane grabbed a breast, slid that offending hand between your legs, those bitten fingers amid your labia. He caressed your clit; you hummed around his tongue; you squeezed his pricks with the muscles of your pelvic floor, the Duros groaning into your eager, ardent mouth.
It was like something from a fantasy that no one dares to dream, so alien, so different.
And he had spread you apart, the crests of his cocks hitting all the right spots, feeling like the writhing of a snake inside you at the best of times, that ball of heat in your belly intensifying until the point you knew it would explode, causing stars to rupture in your eyes.
The clink of a belt buckle against porcelain, the creak of Nashtah hide, and the high-pitched, girlish cry of a woman echoed off the walls. Out there, somewhere, patrons of a dark and dreary cantina were fated to listen, though most talked over it. The music played louder; the bartender turned a blind eye, for Cad Bane had gone inside.
It was as if your previous desire had been naught but childâs play. Your cunt was soaked. His rhythm was impeccable, the circular motions of his fingers between your legs utterly precise. You crooned for him; he bit down on your bottom lip. You flinched, but were overcome with pleasure. The pain added something beautiful, something you could not quite express.
âYes,â you breathed. It became your mantra. Bane did not relent; he would not cease, even as a fresh wellspring of blood dribbled down your chin.
A grunt for every pump, a duet, a cacophony of foreign noises. You felt overwhelmed, but all you could think to do or say was: âOh, Cad.â
The Duros came; the feeling of him filling you triggers your own orgasm. You feed a moan into his fang-filled mouth; you frantically overtake his tongue again. His hand gropes and fondles your breast; his fingers titillate your clit until you spasm, cajoling him to stop.
Then, itâs over. Heâs vacated you quicker than you have time to blink. He shakes himself, adjusts his genitalia, zips his fly, and retrieves his blasters from off the floor.
Your mind is a whirlwind of thought, yet you feel so at peace. Your entire world is upended as Bane locks his gargantuan hand around your fragile neck, his thumb long enough to brush across your lips, wiping away more of your red blood.
âNext time, ye take orders as well as ye take dick,â the gunslinger says. He shoves you back; you fall bottom first into the basin of the sink, Bane pulling a hand-rolled cigarra from out the pocket of his coat.
You are bereft of breath as his duster whorls behind him; you watch as he ignites the end, tossing the sparkstick onto the floor. He leaves a plume of smoke in his wake, not bothering to close the door on his way out.
You search your feelings as the eyes of others peruse your half-naked form. This place is a shithole, a dive. You have laid claim to the only refresher for over an hour now. Curiosity demands an answer, yet no one dares to question Bane.
Dog whistles ensue, laughter, someone calls you indecent, another a slut, yet nothing bothers you; nothing can jar you, or make you forget what has just transpired, the salacious act still so fresh in your mindâs eye.
Besides, you have already made up your mind. Nothing could persuade you otherwise. You cannot wait to serve once more at Cad Bane's side.
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