#cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

[yns-world]

Idol Worship

Pairings: Cyberpunk 2077 Men x Fem!Idol!Reader

Context: You’re a hyper feminine idol with a cutesy, girlie concept. As a Night City celebrity, these are some headcanons of your life with the men. 

A/N: Y/S/N = Your Stage Name

Jackie Welles: You and Jackie had been dating for a year before your rise to fame, and have been going strong ever since. He supported your music dreams from the start, and you’ll always see him as your first fan, as well as your biggest fan (both literally and figuratively). When you started booking bigger venues and had appearances on TV shows, Jackie became worried that you’d leave him for some Hollywood slick, since that’s what everyone always did when they become famous, but you reassured him that’d you’d never leave him since he was the only one for you. 

At the beginning of your stardom, you had decided to keep your romantic life personal as to keep Jackie away from all of the fame but that proved to be difficult when you had a known stalker on your tail. This stalker followed you everywhere and caused you countless restless nights. The situation had gotten so bad that he broke into your hotel one night, but thankfully you had stayed out that night and weren’t inside when he broke in. After that incident, Jackie didn’t feel safe to have you out on tours by yourself. 

That’s when you both decided that it would be best to publicize your relationship-- one, to keep weirdos at bay, and two, so that Jackie could be with you all of the time unapologetically. 

Thankfully, the fans took to Jackie pretty well-- with the exception of your pervy fans, but you weren’t too concerned with them anymore since Jackie became an unofficial official bodyguard. There wasn’t a single picture of you where Jackie wasn’t also in it, either intentionally or unintentionally. 

Concerts, TV showings, photoshoots, Jackie was always there next to you. You were able to convince your manager to hire Jackie as full-time secretary since he was able to prove himself much more useful than the lumberjacks that couldn’t stop a fly.

Johnny Silverhand: You had already made a name for yourself when you met Johnny, and your first meeting was at an elite club that’s only known to a select few. In the dark night club, Johnny’s body was pressed flush against yours and all you both could do was stare into each other’s eyes and sway to the pounding bass of the music. The chemistry was wild, and Johnny was hooked, but you left before the night was over, leaving him high and dry.

The next time he would see you would be on electric boards in the city, performing your latest song. That’s when he recognized you-- those eyes, those god forsaken eyes that reeled him in.

With a call to his manager and a few pulling of strings, Johnny was able to bring you into his home-studio on the pretenses of having you songwrite a song he’s been working on. Needless to say, that would be one of many “studio sessions”.

Within a month, Johnny found himself asking you to be his girlfriend, and you agreed. Johnny being Johnny, immediately wanted to publicize the relationship. To say the public was shocked was an understatement. A crazy metalhead dating the cutesy pop star? Do we need to alert the feds?

But when the paparazzi photos of the two of you spending quality time together were leaked, everything was finally clicking into place. 

At first, you didn’t want your relationship to overshadow your career so you would regularly decline any commentary or showings that had anything to do with Johnny, but after a few deep, honest sit downs with him, you both agreed that you would be able to make this business-pleasure relationship work.

After a few months of dating, not only were you able to show up to public functions together but you both featured on songs together. Your bird-like voice and his scruffy voice complimented each other remarkably well, not to mention the mixing of such polar genres. The two of you would release some of your most popular music together.

A few examples would be “Strawberry Kisses - Johnny Silverhand feat. Y/S/N”, and “Make Daddy Proud - Y/S/N feat. Johnny Silverhand”.

Johnny’s influence would definitely inspire you to expand in both your concept and your music. You would be his muse, and he would be yours.

Viktor Vektor: As part of the industry, it’s common for idols to get cyberware and plastic surgery done to conform to societal beauty standards-- as the motto goes, “in Night City, looks are everything.”

In the beginning of your career, your manager needed you to get some cyberware done but knew you couldn’t pay for the high prices that legitimate surgeons required, so he introduced you to a man with less-than-honest credentials.

That’s where you met him. Viktor Vektor. A miracle worker based out of a dingy basement and faulty fluorescent lights. 

He treated you like a princess and you were in love right then and there. His gentle touches on your face and most intimate parts made you swoon. 

Your manager had sent Viktor a list of procedures he wanted, but Viktor only consulted with you on what you wanted, no more and no less. 

After the first consultation, you were hooked, and the feeling was mutual. You would check in at least monthly, and would find any reason to give him a call just to hear his voice. 

By the time he had finally asked you out, you both were so used to sneaking around that it was silently agreed upon to not publicize this relationship. Maybe it was taboo, with the age gap and career choice, but it was love. And to you both, that was all that mattered.

And thanks to Viktor’s connections in the industry, you were quick to become the face of high fashion and runways. Always equipped with the latest cyberware, your tech upgrades were trendsetters, with influencers and celebrities alike flocking to imitate your work. But your tech was always one-of-a-kind, that’s what Viktor vowed to do from the moment he met you. Every creation he creates for you is only for you. It’s custom-made for your body and mind, no one else’s.

Your looks had become so famous that there was a genre of cyberware named after you: Roseware, an homage to your pink and aesthetic gadgets.

a/n: i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging since it helps my account! :) DON'T BE A GHOST READER!!!! i would love to hear your thoughts and opinions, and comments are what keep writers going <3 i’m open to requests again (specifically for cyberpunk), please read my the posts on my pinned before requesting :) lmk if y’all have any ideas for more content like this cause this was fun to write :D

#yns world #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 x reader #cyberpunk 2077 x v #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x v #viktor vektor x reader #viktor vektor #viktor vektor x v #jackie welles #jackie welles x reader #jackie welles x v #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

[neon-junkie]

Dating Johnny silverhand Headcanons?

Gender-neutral reader!

Alive Johnny

I don't think I need to start these headcanons off by stating that Johnny puts on a 'tough guy' act, but here's a reminder.

He puts on a tough guy act.

I mean, Johnny is the type of guy to start on a man just for gawking at you. "Keep your eyes to yourself!" he'll bark before throwing a punch, which always leads to him getting his ass kicked, and you having to apologise to everyone as you (literally) drag him away.

But after the battle, Johnny will milk his injuries, and takes pleasure in lounging in your lap as you tend to his bruising eye.

"Did you see how hard I hit him, babe? Poor sucker hit the ground so hard!" blahblahblah, all whilst he's cooped up in your lap, one hand resting on his chest, whilst the other swirls his whiskey around in its tumbler.

Johnny's love language is a mix between quality time, and physical touch.

He's a little physically needy, but not always in public. His hand will almost always be around your waist, chest puffed out, scowling at any guy who considers laying an eye on you, but the second that you're behind closed doors, Johnny will want to snuggle up to you.

Play with his hair, coo and soothe him, hold him close in your arms; that man is touch starved.

Everything you give to him will be returned tenfold, only he has to keep the cold-hearted, tough guy image up for others. But don't worry! You're his angel, and he'd never do anything to hurt you.

Engram Johnny

Johnny can't exactly touch you, so words of affirmation and quality time are his love languages.

It's not rare to see you sitting alone in a shabby diner, but in your head, Johnny is with you, and you two are having the time of your lives.

Johnny is essentially your conscience, and he's not shy when it comes to adding his two cents.

In some ways, you're thankful that he's always there. He does his best at keeping you safe, pointing out sketchy guys, reminding you how many bullets you have left, doing anything and everything to keep you moving forward.

However, Johnny will also say the most inappropriate things to you at the worst times possible.

Out on a mission? Here's Johnny listing off all the things that he'd do to you, if he could.

And no amount of ignoring him will work. He's going to continue riling you up, and when you finally bite, he'll vanish.

Johnny likes to try and always be in your line of sight, such as lounging about on your desk chair whilst you clean all your weapons, or lying beside you whenever you get into bed.

He will do anything and everything to be by your side, and remind you of how thankful he is that he ended up in your head.

#cyberwriting #johnny silverhand #gn!reader #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x you #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #headcanon #headcanons #reader insert

[helloporcelain]

Hot Blood

fandom: cyberpunk 2077  pairing: johnny silverhand/fem! v  rating: explicit (18+)  tags: pwp, piv, thigh riding, light choking, happy ending au where johnny has his body/v is not dying summary: car sex on an extremely hot summer day in a cramped car before a gig to shoot up some wraiths? bad idea, probably. ∘°∘♡∘°∘ READ ON AO3 ∘°∘♡∘°∘

based off a prompt from @seeingstarks

The heat was relentless out in the Badlands when September rolled around. 

The temperature easily pushed over 103°, and sun rays were beating down aggressively on top of Johnny and V through the top of his car. A Porsche wasn’t made to be driven around such rough, uneven terrain, but Johnny had insisted on it. He loved his retro car as if it was a long lost daughter he finally had been reunited with. A little whirring, mechanical child on wheels from 50 years past. 

V typically vetoed no to the Porsche for gigs, but it had been a while since Johnny had driven them both and the job didn’t seem like it would be too driving heavy, so she relented and let him take the wheels. He really wasn’t the best behind the steering wheel, at least not since he had gotten used to an actual body (not that Johnny would ever admit it) and V preferred that Johnny got some practice out in open land and not run over innocent jaywalkers in the city. 

It was, however, definitely not V’s car of preference.

For one thing, it was a small car. V wasn’t a large woman, so why did she feel suffocated in it, especially if she was packing heat? It felt as if there was barely room for her to stretch her legs out, nevermind hauling a bunch of gear, guns and grenades around in there without setting something off and blowing them both to sorry bits. 

But Johnny didn’t seem to mind – it was one of the few times the muscles in his shoulders relaxed, which made the decision to let him drive it worth it in the end for V. Johnny had carried around a tenseness in his body ever since he came back, always on edge. He did his best to hide it, and if V hadn’t shared a brain with him, she might not have noticed. Johnny hadn’t fully believed he was worthy of a second chance, but V had believed nothing else more intensely. 

Still, she regretfully contemplated the decision as sweat dripped down her forehead, onto her bare lashes. He rolled the front windows down to get some kind of breeze because the AC was weak. V had been bugging him to get it fixed for weeks but Johnny had stubbornly snapped that he didn’t “want some fucking Night City idiot fucking around with his car.” 

V wiped her damp forehead with the back of her palm and let out an annoyed huff, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. She had picked out some denim shorts that day, yet it was still too hot and now she had to experience the displeasure of her thighs sticking slick to the leather material. 

“Toughest solo in Night City,” Johnny drawled, looking at her over his sunglasses. “But she can’t handle a little heat.” V pulled a loose bra strap back up on her right shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I get that you’re already going to hell Johnny and okay with this heat hellscape, but some of us would like to not be slowly cooked to death.” She paused, reading something on her holo and continued, “I already messaged Claire and she’s going to fix it and you’re going to let her do it without complaints.”

Johnny grunted in disapproval but didn’t put up much of a fight. Instead, he looked out the window and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to an old rock song she was not too familiar with. Everything that mattered to Johnny was rooted in nostalgia, and V was included in that now.

He pulled up to an abandoned gas station just outside of Rocky Ridge and parked the car behind the building just slightly so that they would still have a view of any cars coming down the road. The gig would have Johnny and V wait around 30 minutes before the targets – Wraiths – rolled in as sundown approached. 

Kill them all and make out with some equipment that Saul needed. Simple gig.

V groaned, tossed her seatbelt off and reached towards the dashboard of the car to tinker with the AC settings – with no luck. The little bursts of air coming through felt like pathetic little hiccups, and her entire body was dripping in sweat. Johnny leaned back and watched as V jabbed her fingers at the console for a solution.

“You wouldn’t have survived a day in Texas, princess,” he muses, shifting his seat back. “Get used to it, we’re going to be cooking here for a minute till those motherfuckers roll in.” 

V gave him a cranky scowl. “Your obsession with this car is concerning on a fundamental level.”

Johnny opened up all the windows and pulled out a cigarette to light up, and V took a deep breath in preparation for the smoke that was about to cloud her senses. After a deep drag he let his left arm hang out over the door and she continued on her rant. 

“You have the most advanced cars in the world at your fingertips, and yet you prefer…” her arms flung wildly around the little space available. “…this stupid broken car!”

V caught a glimpse of how she looked in the mirror and she definitely looked a little crazed. Her cheeks were flush with pink and her usually pin straight hair was turning frizzy. Johnny was right, she wouldn’t have lasted even an hour in the humid Southern summers. She looked back at him and took in his appearance. Sure, Johnny was sweating too, but he looked unbothered. He had chosen to wear his leather pants regardless of the weather that day and he didn’t even look like he was struggling with them. 

At that exact moment, she resented how good he looked.

“I take offense to that V. I’ll have you know…” Johnny took another puff of his cigarette before offering it over to V. “This was a fucking chick magnet.” She accepted it and begrudgingly started to smoke. He wasn���t a part of her anymore, but the cravings still hit her if she saw Johnny smoke first. It was exactly what she needed, and she felt herself relax slightly after the first exhale.  

“Oh boy, here we go. Gonna regale me with stories of your drug addled sexcapades?” She took another long hit, quickly put it out, then tossed it out the window on her side of the car. “I know they were desperate for some rockstar dick, but I highly doubt they actually enjoyed the cramped experience. Only teenagers fuck in cars.” 

Johnny gave a crooked smirk. “Au contraire, V. Au fuckin’ contraire.” His hands went to the sign of his seat to pull it down, taking up more of what little space was left in the backseat. He leaned back and put his arms above his head, and closed his eyes in a show of shush, I’m daydreaming now.

“Fucking preem experience having a chick bounce up and down on me in here. Such a compact space means you’re forced to fit all up against each other, and it’s tight. Doesn’t get old.” 

V fiddled around with her rifle, making sure the bullets were all loaded. She rolled her eyes at him, but her curiosity was piqued slightly. It was an automatic reaction, something she couldn’t control even when her mind signaled: not now ! The second Johnny started being suggestive at all – V couldn’t help it – her body would react without her brain’s explicit permission. 

They had already fucked twice that morning; sleepy, leisurely sex in bed, then he had come up behind her in the bathroom while she was drying her hair and had bent her over the sink. Not that V was complaining. Johnny had been insatiable ever since they had settled into “normal life”, but she never entertained anything during a job. She was a professional, after all.

“Sure,” she said, giving her gun a wipe down. “I bet they loved bumping their heads and getting thigh cramps.”

Johnny responded by taking the rifle out of her hands and pulling it out of her reach. She made a noise of surprise and tried to rustle it out of his arms but no luck, her arms were short and he was leaning back with it. “You won’t get it back from there,” he commented.

“Not funny Johnny,” she scolded. “The Wraiths could be here any second. Give it back.” 

“We know when they’re coming, V. Saul has their routes down to a fucking T.” 

His eyebrows wiggled annoyingly in the direction of his lap, signaling for V to climb on top of him  to retrieve her gun. Her lips went flat in disapproval for a beat, before she twisted her body around, scaled over the drink holder and gingerly into his lap. “You’re so pea-brained,” she said. 

The space was cramped, though it did help that his seat was leaned back a bit. She could feel the heat against the thick material of his pants permeating against her legs. Her brain paused on the sensation against her, before reminding her why she was on him in the first place and she leaned forward to grab her gun. V failed to grab it – Johnny quickly tossed it behind the back of his chair, too out of the way for her to retrieve it in the current position.

“Dick,” she grumbled. V tried to move over him to reach behind, but his hands found their way to her hips and he squeezed down firmly, keeping her pressed against his right thigh. 

“I think I might love summer,” he said. She squirmed against his hold but he just held her down tighter. Johnny’s cock hardened and strained against his pants. “Know why? Because you wear these hot little shorts like the fucking cocktease you are.”

V’s eyes glazed over briefly as she checked the clock out of nerves – they still had 20 minutes before any of the Raffen Shivs were due to show up, but she wouldn’t apologize for being too sure. She snapped out of the thought as Johnny groped at her tits, rolling his thumb over a hard nipple through her white tank top. “One hell of an outfit to wear to a possible shootout, V.”

He leaned forward to kiss her mouth, before trailing down to her jaw and neck. She looked down at him, her heart rate increasing quickly at the thought of fucking him. It would be stupid. It would be reckless. 

“I didn’t wear this to get your dick hard idiot,” she breathlessly replied in between his wet kisses. “Earth to Johnny. Normal humans dress appropriately for the weather.” 

“Then take it off,” he shrugged, tugging at the cotton material. V let him pull the top off over her head, tossing it over to her seat. Johnny didn’t have her take off her bra, instead opting to pull it down so that her tits popped out over the cups. He leaned forward to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking and twirling the nub in his mouth, all the while palming his cock through his pants.

If V was pink earlier, she was full on lobster red now between the heat of the car and the flush of the grind against his leather pants. She had opted out of underwear that morning, mostly due to having put off laundry for so long that she ran out of panties. And now that decision had come back to haunt her as every twitch against him ran a shock through her clit, begging her to roll against him harder.

Johnny let go of one breast and moved onto the neglected side, biting down on the nipple. She let out a whining sound of pleasure as she held her arms against his headrest and rocked against him faster. “Fuck. God damn it, Johnny.” Her clit was growing swollen against the denim fabric of her shorts and the clumsy pace of her fucking his thigh. 

He pulled away from her chest and a hand moved up to finger his old dogtags that she wore, which were now jingling in rhythm with her grinding. “That’s my girl.” 

His fingers wrapped around her throat and gently squeezed. “Yeah, that’s right, baby. Use me. Make yourself feel good.” She let out a choked moan when her clit passed over some kind of raised, ridged material in his pants. 

She rolled her hips against him, angling to make sure her clit continued to hit the same spot again and again. Johnny wanted to fuck her, badly, but wanted to watch her come apart like this even more. V’s body was slick with sweat, and he knew she would find it annoying in the aftermath, but Johnny loved how completely natural of a state she was in. 

Something organic, something real, and something only his to witness.

“So fucking sexy baby. Should see yourself right now. Making a mess on me. Could cum just looking at you V.” 

“Idiot,” she gasped. V worked herself at a frantic and shameless pace, and he pulled her face closer to his so he could kiss her. She could feel the pressure building in her soaked cunt, letting out moans that were muffled by Johnny’s mouth. The kiss was messy as he sucked on her tongue and their saliva dribbled down her chin. 

V lurched forward when her orgasm came crashing down like a lightning bolt, her climax shaking throughout her whole body. V’s hips bucked against his leg as she rode out the rest of the wave, completely engulfed in the embrace of his arms, face buried into the crook of his neck. Johnny was drenched in sweat too, smelling vaguely of soap, but mostly smoke. 

After a few seconds, Johnny chuckled and brushed V’s damp hair away from her forehead. She was distinctly aware of the painful erection he still had straining against his pants. “My stupid broken car still has women creaming their panties 50 years later.” She nipped at his neck and shifted her body up against him to press on his hardon. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Johnny. I’m not wearing any panties.” 

Johnny let out a groan and his hands squeezed her shoulders, pushing her back down on him. One of his arms shot to her shorts and pulled at the zipper ungracefully. “Get these off,” he growled. V leaned back and looked beyond the car towards the road. Still empty, but her brain issued a huge red flag at the thought of rogue nomads popping up behind them and popping one in their heads…

She could picture the tombstone – RIP V, she died doing what she loved most: Johnny Silverhand. 

Ugh. Bad idea, V chided herself silently. 

Then she said it out loud too, still not entirely used to him not being able to hear everything she thought. “Bad idea, Johnny. We don’t have time.” 

Johnny went to work on his zipper, tugging his cock free from the restraints of his oppressive pants. He started slowly stroking and she couldn’t see his eyes through the lenses of his dark glasses. “V, you can either ride my cock now or I’ll jerk off and you can walk back to camp with cum on your shorts. Your choice.” He stroked faster and his eyebrow furrowed as she considered the decision with 15 minutes left on the clock in her head.

It was awkward to lift herself up from him to take her shorts off but she managed to peel them off and fling them to her seat. She wasn’t confident it was very sexy to watch her do this, but Johnny was still intently watching her as he masturbated, and she suddenly was very aware of the hot air on her naked lower half. 

V tried to look down between them as she lined his cock up with her entrance, letting the tip slide between her folds. Johnny was already leaking precum, and before V got the chance to lower herself, he grabbed her waist and yanked her down to sit on his cock. Her eyes popped wide as he sat her down all the way, no space, not an inch in between them. 

“Johnny,” she gasped. 

“Ride my cock V, need to feel every fucking inch of your pussy.” 

One of Johnny’s arms curled around her waist, the other one landed on her thigh as he slammed her down onto his dick. V readjusted the angle so her legs weren’t caught in any tight crevices, and when she was finally comfortable she started to move quickly against him. Johnny groaned when he felt the fullness of her weight, the tightness of her cunt fully engulfing him. 

“Love how needy you are for my cock V, fuckin anywhere, anytime, my fucking girl.”

Johnny was barely holding it together. His glasses were rocking about, threatening to fly off with each violent slam that V pushed down on. Her wetness was soaking through everywhere, mixing with their sweat, making the car smell like a hotbox of pure sex. 

“Fuck, Johnny, you know I can’t say no to you,” V panted, holding herself steady. “You’re– so fucking deep.” She spread her thighs a bit wider, as much as the space allowed, Johnny clutched her tight as he continued his rocking pace against her, so profoundly deep inside she thought she may have felt it in her stomach.

His hands were digging into her so hard it was going to leave a bruise after. V was so tight, Johnny groaned like a man who was in the process of losing his mind. “Fucking made for my cock. My fucking perfect cocksleeve.” 

V leaned in to capture his lips, biting down on them to make them bleed.  She had to admit: no matter how many times they fucked, she still got the same butterflies that lurched in her body with how they fit perfectly. As if it was proof that there was a God somewhere and he did actually craft their bodies with the intention of them finding each other, somehow, half a century apart.

She held him against her as she began to rock her body, her clit rubbing against his body with every roll of her hips. Johnny groaned as they kissed, and V knew he was close to coming. His hands wandered down to grip her ass tightly, impaling her down on him with more force than she could hope to do on her own. “Johnny,” she gasped. “Need your fucking cum in me.” 

Sweat rolled down their bodies like droplets of rain. The combined body heat was making it hard to breathe, but she let her hands wander to his throat anyway. V didn’t do the choking too often, but thought herself a giver sometimes. Johnny was close, his fingers were digging a death grip into her and his pace was becoming erratic. She closed both her hands around his throat and squeezed, holding her gaze on his face.  “What’s taking so long, you want them to see me riding your cock babe?”

A grunt of approval resounded deep in Johnny’s chest. V’s toes curled as she felt him impale into her once more, a sudden and violent rope of cum shooting into her core. She choked Johnny a bit harder as she slowly rocked against him, taking in the feeling of her pussy milking his cock for every drop. One hand left his neck and wandered down to feverishly rub at her very swollen clit, her orgasm crashing down quickly in sparks. Johnny and V clung to each other, skin sticking to skin; neither one wanted to be the first one to get up from the mess they’ve left. “Eight minutes,” she finally said, breaking the silence.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you were constantly checking the clock the whole time, because I did, you little control freak.” Johnny replied, fidgeting with his glasses. She leaned back to put her tank top on and laughed. 

“One of us has to try and keep us alive,” she smiled. They both looked at each other with soft eyes until a loud sound in the distance caused them to stiffen up. “What the fuck was that?” They both whipped their heads around and craned their necks to see a gaggle of trucks looming back in the gas station. A couple of heads were pointed their way, some shouting and pulling out their guns. Johnny sheepishly watched as V frantically hopped over to her seat to pull on her shorts.

“Fuuuck me. What did I say, Johnny? What did I say!? Any second!”

V was in a fit of panic, and all Johnny could offer up was a shrug. "Saul was wrong." 

She slapped his forehead (to which he simply responded: ow) and haphazardly threw out a grenade in the distance, hoping it would buy them another few seconds. 

“Pass me my rifle. Now.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand/v #johnny/v #v cyberpunk 2077 #cp 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 smut #johnny silverhand x v #silverv #johnny x v #porcelainfic #female v #v cyberpunk #cyb

[lillian-gallows]

Take Me Back to Eden

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand/Reader (V)

Warnings: Reader is V, No use of V, No use of Y/N (Don't get used to that from me lol), Cunnilingus (F receiving oral sex), P in V sex, Fluff with a little bit of angst (because V/Reader is a dummy and so is Johnny), Vaginal fingering, use of pet names (Bright-eyes and baby), alcohol consumption.

Summary: V/Reader is in love with the reformed ghost in her head, but she's pretty sure it's just her, oh how wrong she is.

GIF by: Keanuphile

Notes: I finished the game, I'm not okay, so I'm writing fanfiction about it. Cross posted to AO3

Minors DNI

The tequila burned as it raced down your throat, so did the whiskey chaser that followed it. The music of The Afterlife was pounding in your ears and brain as the liquor took hold and made your muscles relax, jaw no longer clenching quite so tight.

You caught Claire’s eye and lifted the empty glass in a wordless request for another, which got a nod of acknowledgement in return, but she was already with a couple of customers so it would be a moment. That was fine. You were nothing if not patient.

So patient that you managed to get yourself stuck in a loop of waiting for the reformed ghost in your brain to realize you’re in love with him and had been since you helped him go on a date with Rogue, like a gonk, and knowing he probably never will, or if he does figure it out, to care enough to act on it.

You’d seen his memories. Know what loving Johnny Silverhand does to a person. Yet here you are, as if one almost death sentence wasn’t enough for you.

There was a split second, when you were carrying each other out of Arasaka HQ, when you thought he might have felt the same. You’d fallen to your knees, legs refusing to keep going, and he’d gripped you tight and said you needed to get up, that he couldn’t leave without you, that he needed you.

At the time you’d thought there was something else there, the way he’d said it sounded so…Soft. But now you’re pretty sure it was the adrenaline and your grey matter still reeling from Alt fucking with it to give you your body back that made you cling to your hopeless desperation for the man you knew you couldn’t have, not in the way you wanted him.

“You stare any harder at that shot glass and your Koroshi’s’ll shoot lasers.” Came Claire’s voice, yanking you from your thoughts.

You cleared your throat awkwardly and shifted back in your seat while the other woman refilled both glasses. “Thanks.” You said before throwing the first one back.

“Trouble in paradise?” The Bartender asked as she leaned on the counter, giving you her full attention. After helping Claire resolve her business with Sampson, you both got closer, close enough that you felt comfortable telling her about Johnny and the Relic. Johnny had teased you about the attraction you had felt toward the other woman, but it was nothing compared to what you felt toward him.

“Gotta be paradise for that to happen.” You answered before shaking your head. “Nah, just me being a gonk, like always.” You said it more to the glass in your hand than the woman in front of you.

“You know, torturing yourself won’t solve anything.” Claire said lowly, so only you could hear her. “He hasn’t been to see Rogue since you both got back. From what you’ve told me, that means something.”

Your face was warm as you met Claire’s gaze, whether you were just that easy to read or Claire was using her magic bartender powers you didn’t know, but it didn’t really matter. She was right.

“I’m not gonna be another notch in his belt.” You downed your remaining drink. “And I’m not going to follow him around like some thirsty little groupie.” It came out a little bitter, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t picturing Alt when you said the words.

You’re being unfair, you know you are. Alt loved Johnny for real, that much was obvious, so summing her up as something as simple as a groupie is cruel to the deceased woman, but you can’t fight the sour burn in your belly that threatens to turn you green.

Claire let out a sigh and shook her head. “Yet, that’s what you’re doing.” That gets a glare and Claire’s eyes are hard as she stares back. “Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right.” She steadies herself on the bar with both hands and she leans into your space. “You told me yourself that he hates when people beat around the bush. So fucking talk to him before you end up old, grey, and still pinning. Or worse, one of you dies again.”

That snaps you from your cloud of self-pity, but not in the way Claire was probably hoping for. “Whatever.” You grumbled somewhat childishly as you flicked the Eddies to pay your tab and got up.

You knew the other was watching you go but didn’t care to look back. She was right, and it pissed you off. Not the part where Claire called you out, you deserved that, needed to hear it even. The part that you hated was that you really were exactly what you didn’t want to be, a hopelessly in love groupie following Johnny around like a horny puppy, except without any of the payoff of you two actually fucking.

And the saddest part was that you would rather keep pinning than be fuck-buddies, you wouldn’t be able to keep feelings out of it and you don’t even want to begin to imagine being on the receiving end of some of the shit Johnny said to Alt, and he actually loved her…What hope would you have?

It was raining when you got outside, and you considered calling your car instead of taking Jackie’s bike, it had a rain cover and would be fine for a night, but you needed to think and you couldn’t do much of that if you were driving, so rather than either option you turned and started walking, would it take longer? Sure, but that was what you needed to think, or spiral, whichever came first.

The rain was quick to plaster your hair to your face and neck, trailing cold lines of water down your skin that caused goosebumps to bloom, thinking about how much you hated Johnny when you met, how much he hated you right back. You kept walking.

Then those trails of water along with new water falling on you soaked through your clothes and chilled you to the bone, thinking about when you realized you’d fallen for him, lying in bed the night after his date with Rogue with a pit in your gut but determined not to say anything about it, praying he couldn’t feel it through you. You kept walking.

After a bit your shoes began to squish with every step, socks drenched and pooling water in your shoes, thinking about what he’d said that night on the way out of Arasaka HQ, about needing you, he’d breathed the words like he didn’t want anyone else to hear them, like they were for you and you alone and it would be a crime for any other ears to hear them. You kept walking.

You started to shake as Megabuilding H10 came into view, harsh shivers that made your teeth chatter till you clenched your jaw to make it stop, but all that did was make the shakes move down to your shoulders, thinking about how your heart had grabbed onto his whispered plea like it was a declaration of love even though it was nothing of the sort. You kept walking.

A puddle formed under you on the elevator floor as the floor numbers flashed and ads blasted in your ears, but you weren’t paying them any attention, you couldn’t care less about Milfguard or whatever new flavor of Mr. Whitey’s was being screamed about, you were too busy buzzing with the warring hope and dread of the thought that he would be home when you walked through the front door. You stopped walking when you got to the door.

Your fingers hovered over the button that would open it, but you were frozen in place, a new puddle forming, water dripping from your free hand would echo if the atrium wasn’t so goddamn loud.

“You gonna keep staring at it? Or do I gotta move you?” Came the one voice you still weren’t sure if you wanted to hear.

Looking back, you met Johnny’s gaze, or rather your reflection in his aviators, God you looked like a soaked cat…

Rather than answer him you pressed the button and watched the door woosh open, walking in with him right behind you felt like being watched by a warden.

“Why the Hell are you wet? You look like you walked home.” He asked as the door closed behind him; you couldn’t look at him again.

“Cuz, I did.” There was no use lying, anything you could come up with was just as stupid as the truth.

You could practically hear him lift his brow. “The fuck you do that for? Vic still has both of us on probation, getting sick could be a fucking death sentence.” Annoyed disapproval drips from his voice the same water is still dripping from your hair.

“Needed to think.” You offered lamely as you made for the closet, intent on both getting dry clothes and not letting him see your face.

“About what?” He asks from by the bed, where you’d seen Nibbles lounging, but when you didn’t respond you heard him take a few steps closer. “About what?” He asked a little louder, either thinking you hadn’t heard him, or intent on not letting you ignore him.

“Lots of shit, Johnny. What? You want a fucking catalog of my daily thoughts? Didn’t get enough of that when you were in my head?” You snapped sharper than intended, but you just wanted to make him shut up.

You heard his footsteps once more, and before you could move or look at him, he was at your back. “Thought we’d moved past snapping at each other to avoid talking about shit.” His tone was hard but not cold, like he could tell something was up.

“It doesn’t matter…” Why did you sound so fucking small? You hated it.

“Bright-Eyes…Look at me.” His hand feels like fire when it lands on the icy skin of your shoulder, where he tried to turn you, but you resisted. “Please…Look at me.” Your heart stops, it’s like you can hear the words that haunt you all over again. “Get up. Please, I can’t leave without you. I need you…Get up.” Same tone, begging and just barely this side of desperation.

And like a sleeper agent that’s heard her trigger word, you turned, but you can’t lift your eyes to meet his, you know he’s taken off those damn glasses and you can’t bear to see his eyes looking at you, your heart will store it away just like those words, and you can’t handle yet another thing making you hope like a gonk for more than you’re allowed to have.

People like you don’t get to love and be happy, if they were, Jackie would still be alive, and Misty wouldn’t be alone.

As if sensing that you won’t meet his gaze, Johnny lifts his metal hand as his flesh one slides down to your upper arm, searing hot skin making yours tingle, even his metal hand feels warmer than you, a shiver of a different kind rolls down your spine and you want to yank yourself out of his hold, but his grip tightens just a little, like he knew what you were thinking, but then he probably did. You’d put money on it that he knows your every micro expression and what they all mean, which terrifies you if you’re honest.

“Go take a shower, you’re freezing.” He whispers, warm breath fanning over your face, smelling of whiskey and cigarettes, such a Johnny smell. He let you go to reach past you for the clean clothes you were going to grab and passes them into your hands.

As if a spell was broken, you moved around him to head across the room to the bathroom, but you could still feel his eyes on you. The urge to snip at him about watching you undress sat on the back of your tongue, but you swallowed it.

By the time you’re pulling your wet tank top over your head, you no longer feels the heat of his eyes on you, then you heard the radio turn on, some oldies rock station playing some ballad that you don’t recognize, but you hear him quietly sing along to it, for a nanosecond you think you hear more emotion in it than when he normally mumbled along with the radio, but shake the thought away.

The water feels pleasantly scalding when you step through the fog of steam and into the spray. Tilting your head into the warmth to wash away the chilled water still clinging to your hair, you hear his voice no longer melding with that of the radio, though you still hear the song playing over the sound of the showerhead.

Eyes closed to keep the water out of them, you feel his eyes on you once more, not as close as by the closet, but certainly not from across the room. Running a hand over your face to clear your vision you turned and were met with Johnny standing there looking like he’s debating something.

“Johnny?” You questioned, no real thought given to the fact that you’re naked, he’s seen you a dozen times since Mikoshi, granted all those where when you both were recovering and you needed help getting dressed, but it was all the same to you.

Hearing you say his name seemed to help him make whatever decision he was working on, and before you could react or say anything else, he was crowding into your space, both of you under the spray, drenching him in hot water. But neither cared about that, neither was thinking about that, not when his lips were pressed to yours so hard it’s like he needs it to breathe.

Your back pressed to the wall, his hands holding your face, rings rapidly growing warm from your skin and the water, metal hand doing the same, the coarse hair on his face rubbing against your skin, making the goosebumps that had long since settled return full force.

You kissed him back for all of a second before you realized what was happening and pushed him back, he put a few inches between your faces, but gave no more land than that. “Johnny, what the fuck are you doing?”  You panted, looking up at him with a tentative look of hope that mixed with fear and it damn near breaks his heart to see it.

“Not making the same mistakes twice.” He answered, thumb brushing over your lower lip, clearly thinking about kissing you again.

Your heart seized in her chest again. “Stop it.” It comes out cold and it’s clear he wasn’t expecting it.

“What?” He’s dumbfounded, had be misread things? No way, he knows what he saw when he was in your head, what he felt.

“Don’t fuck with me, Johnny.” The hope in your eyes turned hard, a wall going up that he’s all too familiar with. “I’m not her.” Your voice is small again.

His shock melted away as understanding took its place. “I know. Never wanted you to be her.”

“Then what the Hell are you doing?” Your fingers had curled into the wet fabric of his shirt, so he can neither move closer nor pull away.

“I already said.” He answered before taking a slow breath. “I was shit when I had her and lost her because I was a fucking moron, and I did a lot of shit in her name after that that didn’t fix anything. I never deserved her, and I sure as shit don’t deserve you, but fuck if I’m not going to shoot my shot and try.” He said with the same conviction he had when he went on one of his anti-corp rants, only this was a lot softer, a lot less angry.

As he spoke, he watched the hardness in your eyes soften and that hope return, but it’s slow, you’re digging your claws in, trying not to get your hopes up, still waiting for the Gotcha “I won’t be another quick fuck…I can’t…I can’t be no strings…” It feels searing admitting to that.

He leans in once more, till his forehead meets yours, eyes unable to look anywhere but at each other. “Neither can I.” You can barely hear him over the shower, but you do, and your heart races.

Using the leverage of your hold on his shirt, you pulled him back in, mashing your lips to his in a messy desperate kiss that steals both your breaths, falling into him with slow tentative twists of your lips.

His hands trail down from your face, over your neck where your hair is plastered to your skin, down your body, avoiding every sensitive place that you crave his touch, to settle on your hips, pulling you closer and grinding against you.

He feels you shiver against him at the stimulation, little though it is, but he savors it all the same, right along with the way your beath hitches in your chest, he wants to hear it again, wants to hear more, wants to make you cry out his name and tell the whole megabuilding who you belong to.

He’s loathed to do it, but he breaks the kiss and slips his hands down to grip the backs of your thighs to lift you up, instinct taking over to wrap your legs around his waist as your arms wrapped around his shoulders, hands slipping into his hair to twist in the strands, softer than one might expect.

A lazy hand shot out to turn off the shower before he left the bathroom, leaving a trail of water on the floor to the bed. Rather than toss you on the bed like you expected him to, he sits on the edge and settles you on his lap, and with you secured there his hands moved up into your hair to pull you into another deep kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

You wonder if he can feel your heart racing where your chests are pressed together, your hands are shaking as they come to rest on the space where his neck meets his shoulders, fingers still twisted in the wet strands of his hair, unable to pull the away, scared you’ll float away if you stop touching him.

This is a dream; it has to be. But does that really matter? If it is then you never want to wake up, and if it’s not then you won’t have to.

The heat at the apex of your thighs had begun to ache, craving something, anything more from him. You don’t even seem to notice when your hips start to grind against him, and it pulls a hungry grin from him that breaks your kiss, and you make this pitiful little cutoff humming sound when he meets you halfway with his own hips, eyes rolling closed and face tilted forward, forehead to forehead.

He can’t take his eyes off you, never could. That used to piss him off, reminded him too much of Alt and how she made him feel, but this was different, both women pulled his passion to the forefront, but only you had ever made him feel like he was capable of being decent, like he deserved to be.

Now, as your breaths mingle, hips driving against each other like they’ll die if they stop, he can’t help but take in every minute detail, from the color of your lashes to the way the space between your brows crinkles as they draw together in desperate need to the panting breaths falling from your kiss swollen lips that he craves.

But there’s something else he craves even more.

Taking hold of you once more he flips you both, laying you on the bed beneath him, you don’t resist, all too happy to do whatever it takes to have more of him on you, around you, in you.

Your hair splays under your head like a halo and Johnny thinks that if you’re what God looks like, then maybe he was wrong not believe.

He hovers over you for a moment, taking in your face, your body, the way your chest heaves with every desperate breath. Then, when his forever limited patience runs out, he trails his hands down your sides, over your hips, and stopping on your thighs, strong and soft as they part so willingly for him.

Leaning in his lips follow a similar road as that of his hands, making detours at your tits to take a nipple in his mouth to suck and nip, making the flesh turn blush dark and your back arch up into him, a shuddery sigh passing from your lips. He could live the rest of his life lavishing your breasts like this, but the heat from between your thighs is beckoning him.

So, he continues on his path, pressing his lips to every new patch of skin he reaches till he gets to your hips, where he bites down till a pretty red, soon to be purple, mark blooms. Your hands thread into his hair as he marks you, but other than twisting into the strands you don’t do anything, needing the anchor more than anything else.

Settling between your thighs he’s met with the beautiful sight that is your glisteningly wet pussy, wanton and waiting for him to give whatever he will.

Ever the tease, Johnny leaves a couple more darkening marks on your inner thighs, watching your body tense in pleasure, before finally, finally, running his tongue over your aching heat, from bottom to top, where your clit is swollen and begging to be touched.

Your whole body jumped when he flicked his tongue over it, thighs trying to close on his head out of reflex, but his hands, strong yet gentle, hold them open as he latches on and sucks for only a second, yanking a gasp from between your lips.

“Fuck…” You breathed, sounding more like another reflex than an actual thought.

“We’ll get to that, Bright-eyes…Just let me take care of you…” He purrs against your flesh.

Trailing his flesh hand down your leg then back up again he runs his fingertips slowly around the opening of your beautiful pussy, it’s an almost reverent action, coating his skin before pushing one in, a slow and shallow in and out.

He was never really this gentle with Alt, she’d never wanted him to be, and Johnny’s pretty sure that if he asked you, you’d tell him the same to protect your ego, but the way your body was melting under him told a different story.

It told of a woman so used to being treated roughly, used to sandy winds whipping her face and sun scorched skin, fists and bullets, hard fucking and yanked hair, that all it took was a few gentle touches and sweet words and she was melting like so much ice in his hands.

It both warmed his heart and made it ache.

Soon enough he’d eased that one clever finger in enough to curl it up and brush against that spongy spot he was dying to see your reaction to.

It was everything he hoped it would be and more. Your cunt tightened around him sharply, your thighs did the same, but his shoulders didn’t let them get far, you let out moans and gasps that were nothing short of pure music. All those things he’d expected, but he hadn’t expected your hand to slip from his hair and fall down to where his metal hand was still holding your thigh to grip his fingers, a silent plea to let you hold it if ever he saw one.

So, he did.

Johnny wasn’t the type to hold hands, something so elementary just wasn’t his thing, but a lot of things weren’t his ‘thing’ till you, his Bright-eyes. So, he’d hold your hand, he’d never let it go if that’s what you wanted of him, he’d live and die by those digits wrapped around his.

And he slipped a second finger into you, giving you only a second to get used to the sensation before he was back to massaging your G-Spot with his fingertips, but that wasn’t all he did, he reattached his lips to your clit and ran over it with his tongue in circles, giving it the occasional suck to pull a jolt from your body.

You were like a livewire of coiled muscles and aching for release. Your eyes had long since fallen closed, unable to keep them open, gripping his hand like it was the only thing keeping you on this plain of existence, pussy gripping his fingers like a vice.

“Johnny…” You pleaded, high and just this side of a whine. “Please…” Your thighs were starting to shake as you begged, so very close.

But Johnny is a bastard, even when he’s being nice, so he has to tease you just a little more. “Please, what? What do you want, Bright-eyes?” He asked lowly, smirking against you. “Gotta use your words.” He felt you clench at those words, but he was already teasing you, so he’d address that later.

“…Please…So close…” You managed, sounding close to crying.

His smirk grew just a little more. “Then open those eyes and look at me. Let me watch you cum on my fingers.” He ordered, keeping you teetering on that edge till you obeyed.

Your gaze was foggy with pleasure and wet with unshed tears, it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his entire fucking life.

His eyes never left yours as he returned to your clit and worked it and his fingers till those tears slipped free, leaving wet lines down your face, but your eyes didn’t close, though it looked like you were fighting it with your whole being.

He watched as you teetered on the edge for all of a few seconds before plummeting off it in a show of dilated pupils, choked off moans, clenching muscles, hand white knuckle with how tight it held his hand, and trembling thighs, well, more like trembling everything.

But the thing that drew him in, the thing that made his chest feel tight and his cock jump in his jeans, is that your eyes never once, not for even a second, left his. Those endless portals of life stayed locked on the bottomless expanse of brown of his own eyes.

After a long several moments he had to break eye contact because he felt like he’d cum in his pants like a teenager if he didn’t.

Pressing a kiss to your thigh, still shaking, leaving a wet mark where your slick clung to his facial hair, then left a trail of such marks as he kissed his way back up your body, till he got back to your lips, where you met him halfway, moaning at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Neither let go of the others hand, but your free hand cradled his cheek like he was made of porcelain, your palm calloused from years in the desert and Solo work but still so soft.

You stayed like that, lip locked and sharing the same air, for a bit while you came down from your high, and when you were dragging him back down to grind against him once more, he pulled away just long enough to devest himself till he matched your nudity, then he was back again.

He didn’t need to ask if you needed a condom, he knew you had an implant, so he wasted no time lining up and slowly pushing in, taking it inch by inch because even Johnny knew he was too big to go in all at once like an asshole, and there were some lines he’d never cross, hurting his bedfellows was one of them, less they asked real nice of course, but there was time for that later, right now his Bright-eyes needed soft, and damn if you weren’t going to get it.

Your face twisted in pleasure as he entered, and a broken gasp fell from your lips. “I know, baby, I know…” He breathed before pressing his lips to your neck. “So good, fuck…” You were tighter than he expected, but he wasn’t shocked, you hadn’t had any partners when he was in your head, and you didn’t seem particularly interested in finding any after you were in your own bodies.

Your hand returned to gripping his metal one as soon as he was back on you, the other found its home on his shoulder where your nails dug in, the pinch of pain sent a thrill down his spine that made it harder not to thrust into you.

“Johnny.” You said in a breath, getting his attention.

“Hm?” He hummed against your pulse point.

“If you don’t move in the next three seconds, I’m going to do it for you.” You threatened, though with how hard you were breathing it was a loose threat at best.

He smiled, not smirked, not grinned, honest to God smiled as he looked down at you. Rather than make some smart comment, he did as you asked, pulling out to the tip then pushing back in, so slow it was torture for both of you, especially when your still sensitive walls fluttered around him.

It was slow, or at least slower than you expected, his build up in speed. A small part of you expected him to be rough with you, you expected him to fuck you, not this. There was no way to describe this but as making love.

Just as quickly as before that coil in your belly started to tighten, and Johnny seemed to see it immediately. “Look at you…” He breathed as he watched you fight to keep your eyes open. “Taking me so well, baby…So fucking well…” His voice turned into a growl at the end, and you couldn’t help the way it made your insides clench.

Every roll of his hips had his tip brushing hard against your G-Spot, while the hair at his base kept a steady pressure against your clit, and that didn’t even cover what his lips and words were doing to you. Your whole body felt so hot you thought you might combust, but you didn’t dare let him stop.

Your legs wrapped around his hips to pull him in further, which served to leverage your hips up just right to have him pressing deeper, which you had thought impossible a second before.

You felt yourself once more on the edge of orgasm and he knew it, be it from the way you sounded or the way very part of you was clinging to him even tighter, he knew. “Shit…You’re so perfect…Gonna cum on my cock? Hm?” He hummed as much to himself as to you, probably to distract himself so he didn’t cum before you.

You couldn’t have answered him if you wanted to, it was all too much, too perfect, before you even realized it the coil snapped and you came hard, so hard your vision went white and you think you might have passed out for a few seconds because the next thing you heard was his voice rasping out your name mixed with several swears while his hips stuttered and you felt heat flood your insides.

He didn’t collapse on you the way other guys you’ve slept with had, he did lower himself enough to rest chest to chest, but his knees and free hand kept him propped up enough as not to crush you.

His face was pressed into your neck while you both caught your breath, and after a moment he pulled back to press his forehead to yours, eyes closed but it made him feel even closer, so you certainly weren’t complaining.

When both your breathing evened out, he opened his eyes and looked at you, finding you already searching his face. Trepidation was there at the bare edges of your gaze but seemed to be held back by the fact that he hadn’t pulled away or said anything shitty to you yet.

“You okay?” He said softly, quietly so as not to disturb the calm that had fallen on the room.

He watched your throat work around a swallow, and you nodded ever so slightly. “Yeah…” You breathed, voice sounding thick.

He gave your hand, still wrapped so tightly around his metal one, a gentle squeeze. “I love you, Bright-eyes…” He said, knowing you needed to hear it as much as he needed to say it.

Your eyes widened slightly and grew wet but before tears could fall you pulled him down into a kiss, this one was filled with a different kind of passion, it was softer, sweeter. “I love you, Johnny.”

He helped you clean up after that before going to bed, the radio still playing the same oldies station quietly.

“I have traveled beyond the path of reason…Take me back to Eden…Take me back to Eden…”

#johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand/v #Johnny Silverhand/Reader #Cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #x reader #one shot #smut

[gococogo]

Share Your Toys | SilverV

Synopsis: V buys something new and odd and Johnny doesn't want to participate. All until he needs to show V just how to use.

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand/Male!V

Warnings: nsfw/anal/dildo/sex toy/masturbation/degrading/slut shaming

Notes: I know I've only done one cyberpunk fic in the past. But I have this one and one more planned to post haha. I'm here for the male!v x johnny enjoyers

Does he feel a little ashamed buying one? No… Maybe. Just a lil. They had peaked his interest when he had spotted one, but he had much more pressing matters on hand.

So, here he is, with a six-inch dildo in hand.

It’s odd looking. It’s thicker at the tip than it is at the base. Being an ombre from a pink on the bottom to a pastel blue to the tip, it’s almost alien looking. With ridges on the underside that poke out a fair bit, V already knows this is going to be an odd sensation. Something funky to use to get his mind off of current things.

“There’s no way in fuck we’re sticking that thing up your ass,” Johnny snaps from the couch.

V sighs a gruntle noise. He tries to ignore Johnny but the rockstar taps his foot on the ground. He looks up to Johnny finally with a raised brow. He sits on the edge of his bed in only an old t shirt -one that use to be an outdoor shirt but slowly turned into a pj shirt with all the holes and grease stains in it. He sets the dildo on the bed next to him with another sigh.

“We?” V asks.

“Yes, we,” Johnny bites back. “I can feel everything you feel to an extent. And tonight, or any other, I don’t think I’m in the mood to have that thing shoved up my ass,” he says as he points to the dildo with a silver finger.

“You’ve never taken a dick before?” V mocks as he scoots up on his bed.

He makes himself comfortable and brings a bottle of lube with him in hand. Johnny leans back on the couch with his legs crosses over one another. He pushes his aviators up back to cover his eyes. The red glass reflects V on the bed, laid back with his shirt pooled over his crotch and thighs.

“I said I don’t want that,” Johnny grits out.

V rolls his eyes. “Just, leave me alone and I’ll forget you’re ever here. Go to whatever corner of my brain you normally go to when you don’t like something. It’s still my body, so I can do what I want and put whatever the hell I want in it.”

Johnny stares at V for a moment longer and for a split second, the merc feels very exposed. The rocker has seen everything before. Has done stuff to him before. But right now, the look he’s receiving is something different. Then, without a word, Johnny disappears in a glitch of blue and red static.

Good. Now he can continue in peace and use sex for a moment to forget about how shit life is.

-

Getting the first inch in is a struggle. Even with a lot of prep and a lot of lube, the tip is a tad thick. The stretch is a little overwhelming as V opens his legs out a bit further. He works himself little by little, letting the ridges of the fake cock rub up inside of him.

“You’re going to hurt yourself.”

V stops all so that he can glare at the disturbance standing over him at the side of his bed. He’s gotten so use to Johnny popping up randomly that when he does, it doesn’t phase him at all now.

The rocker’s arms are crossed over his chest and he still wears those red aviators. He can see himself in them again. Legs apart, dick half hard between with a large cock spreading him open. And all Johnny does is frown.

V moves the dick, pushing it a little further into himself and watches Johnny’s face. And when the rocker’s face scrunches up into a scowl, soon followed by a shaky, quiet exhale that is a clear indication he’s trying to hide his reaction, V can only smirk.

As cockily as he can say with a cock up his ass, the merc grins, “How should I be doing it then?”

Johnny’s scowl only deepens. Yet, he disappears from where he’s standing and reappears in a wave of glitches and static in front of V. Bent over and looking over him without his aviators. Dark, brown eyes stare him that hold something dangerous.

Without a word, Johnny takes control of V’s spare arm and grabs a pillow behind him. He shoves it under V’s back that has the merc rolling his eyes. The pillow trick? Really?

“I can’t believe you’ve got me doing this,” Johnny grumbles under his breath.

“You’re the one that hopped in yourself, I could have done this on my own,” V interjects.

Johnny covers V’s hand that holds onto the base of the fake cock. “And have a shit time because you’re taking too long? I’d rather not sit back and have to experience that.”

“But you’d rather experience a misshaped dildo up my ass?”

Johnny only frowns at that, his brows furrowing together. Hard enough that it brings creases to his forehead and brings out his crow’s feet.

With a hard push, one that V wouldn’t have deemed himself ready, the cock is pushed halfway in. V throws his head back against the bed. The ridges of the dildo rub up against the part inside of him that makes everything tingle. The painful stretch of the cock has him trying to catch his breath. But it’s a pain that is welcome. Has him buzzing.

The thickness of the first half has him already feeling full. The ridges on the underside of the dildo rub up against all the good parts inside of him that adds to the dizziness in his head. He breathes heavily, soft whines hitching his throat as Johnny moves the cock inside of him before he can get use to the feeling. Slowly pulling out before pushing in where it was before. And God it feels so good. It has him gripping the sheets with his other hand, the other being held down by Johnny.

The rockstar lifts one of V’s legs up and props it over his shoulder so that he can settle in closer. V looks to Johnny through slitted eyes and the look on the rocker’s face only turns him on more.

Johnny’s mouth is parted, and he breathes in sync with V. Each time he pushes the cock inside of V, each time a little deeper, each time hitting his prostate, Johnny shivers and pants. The blue of the cock all but disappears into V’s ass, leaving only the pink half to take down. God he’s quickly enjoying this as much as V is. Who knew the rockstar could have a little fun.

Being trapped on a biochip must do that to someone though. But by whatever God there is, is it hot to see Johnny become a little desperate. He’s so focused on the fake cock that his own hips move in sync faintly.

Johnny growls, -something that V never expected to hear- and pushes the rest of the cock inside of V. It slips in easily, the base being narrower than the first half. And everything feels like it short circuits inside of V, as if his cyberware doesn’t know what’s happening. His back arches as he groans deep within his throat. The cock is so wide and girthy it stretches him greatly. It makes him feel full and has him twitching. Each movement has the ridges grinding up inside of him and each time that happens, a small hiccup of moans are forced from his mouth. He can’t help himself. This feeling is wild and he’s glad that he bought this.

Johnny on the other hand. He’s bent over V trying to catch his own breath. He doesn’t need to breath but it bloody feels like he can’t intake air. Every time V moves and shifts, a wave of pleasure pulses through Johnny that has him shivering and twitching. He can feel himself grow hard in his leather pants. He’s not meant to be into this but by god does it feel great.

He catches his breath before pulling cock out of V to the tip, the sweet sound of moans and groans coming with it. With a forceful push, he shoves the entire six inches back into the merc, the blue disappearing along with the pink. And there it is again, the wave of pleasure and tingles from V that has Johnny shivering and groaning deep in his chest.

He begins slowly pumping the fake cock inside of V, revelling in the raw feelings and sensations that come from the merc’s end. He can feel V’s pain and those friendly pats to his shoulders from strangers. All of those are faint, like passing by a soft blowing vent. But this, this has Johnny’s head spinning and his code glitching.

V other hand comes back down to stroke his hardening dick. He grinds his teeth together at how overstimulating such a simple touch is. God he’s not going to last much longer if Johnny keeps this up. Especially with the pace quickening with every pass of his prostate.

Johnny begins panting loudly as he quickens the pace. Each time it fills V up in the right places and stretches him a little painfully. But that sting is something that feels so good. He matches his stroke on his dick with Johnny, letting him take the full reigns even though he knew he was fucked when the rocker popped back up again to make his comments.

V gets lost in everything, letting his mind go to this moment right now. Forgetting about everything that’s fucked him over in life. Johnny pushes the cock fully in and lets it sit there for a moment. All so he can swat V’s hand off his dick and replace it with his own. The feeling of Johnny’s metal hand on his dick is cold and brings a harsh gasp out of his mouth.

V meets dark brown eyes that stare at him. There’s something different there that the merc can’t quite place. Maybe because he’s having trouble reciting the alphabet or he’s completely forgotten what day it is. His mind is a jumble. But he knows that that dark look within those eyes is something akin to…

“You’re such a slut, you know that?” Johnny quips in between his own panting.

And there it is. Johnny’s comments. Why should V be surprised?

“Yeah and-“ The comeback V was going to make is lost as Johnny moves the dildo inside of him.

He grinds it into him shallowly, letting it rub up against everything inside and makes his entire gut and head to buzz. And in time with the movement, he strokes V’s dick, his thumb flicking and rubbing over the tip each time strokes up.

V grabs onto the blanket again, still letting Johnny guide his other hand on the fake cock. Everything is going crazy. He can’t help but grunt and whine like a two eddie whore.

“Yeah,” Johnny groans out. “You sound like one too.”

V can feel himself coming closer and closer. If Johnny keeps this same pace, he can get there quickly.

“My little slut, how does that sound?” The words are spoken deeply, gravelly.

And it all goes straight to V’s dick. He cums as if a freight train just hit him. His Kiroshi’s become spotty for a second, the black spots disappearing slowly after a while as his eyes recalibrate. He can’t catch his breath for a moment and when he opens his eyes, Johnny is gone.

For a split second, V feels a bit of panic, but as soon as it comes, Johnny appears back again in a storm of glitches and static. He’s hunched over V with a wide expression upon his normally grouchy features. He pants and shakes. He gulps, trying to collect himself. But whatever V felt, Johnny did as well ten fold it seems.

V slips the alien like dildo out of him with a pop and a groan, and throws it aside on his bed. He’s too worn out to worry about anything other than the rockstar leaning over him.

He reaches up and pats Johnny’s face. The simple touch has brown eyes latching onto V.

“Was it worth it?” V asks.

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

Johnny sits up straight, still kneeling in between V’s legs. He runs a hand down his face and lets his gaze run down the merc’s body. His eyes linger on V’s still leaking cock and the cum splattered over his stomach and tattoos. He’d be wrong if didn’t admit this was all a little hot. It’s all in how V pants and shakes from the orgasm still, his chest and stomach rising rapidly with each breath.

Johnny swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing on his throat. “A little then, yeah,” He grumbles.

-

Please do not copy or repost my work. &lt;3

#coco posts #cyberpunk 2077 #v #v cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 fic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 smut #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 v fic #cyberpunk 2077 v fanfic #johnny silverhand fic #johnny silverhand fanfic #johnny silverhand smut #male!v #male!v fic #male!v fanfic #male!v smut #johnny silverhand x male!v #silverv #silverv fic #silverv fanfic #silverv smut #pure smut

[olath124]

If the fic would have a cover it will be something like this

Ot maybe something even MORE in an Harmony style… But I'd have to put a fluent wig on him... And horses... Because horses are cool... And a beach at sunset...

I might… NO.

By the way, poor Johnny, always pushed to the side by our favorite asshole’s gigantic ego XD

#cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #my v #kurt hansen #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #fanfiction #v is for violet #johnny silverhand #and fluffy shirts! #and leathery tight tight pants! #and a corset dress!

[fereldanwench]

It's been a while since I've shared my fic for Goro and Valerie, but I do have a handful of one-shots published over on AO3! So in the spirit of Valentine's Day, here are a few of the sexier pieces:

♡♡ Homecoming ♡♡ » RATING: E | 6,429 WORDS Takemura and V are physically reunited after her time in Mikoshi.

♡♡ Beautiful Alliance ♡♡ » RATING: E | 4,645 WORDS V reflects on life post-Mikoshi and takes care of Takemura the best way she knows how. A/N - It's the blow-job character study fic.

♡♡ The Best Remedy ♡♡ » RATING: M | 2,077 WORDS Takemura and V tend to each other's wounds after a mission.

♡♡ Discretion ♡♡ » RATING: E | 2,360 WORDS Takemura and V discreetly inaugurate their retirement from Arasaka with a day in the park.

CREDITS: - Heart stock photo from Unsplash - Heart and lavender dividers by @saradika-graphics

#goro takemura #takemura goro #takemura x v #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 v #cyberpunk 2077 oc #female v #fem v #c: goro takemura #oc: valerie v powell #ship: goro x valerie #g: cyberpunk 2077 #mine: stories

[trevorite]

I just Wish.

[Now Normally I don't write fan fiction because I struggle with Writing but I did this as a practice so I can get better :D] [Ps: This ain't happy fan fiction Sob]

The rain fell making a soft pitter patter as it hit the roof of the Villa. Kerry was fast asleep and all cuddled up to his pillow, sleeping in just his underwear as he always did. Meanwhile Vincent was outside sitting down in one of the sun loungers that were near Kerry’s lake-like pool. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette between the fingers of his other hand. It may have been raining but V didn’t care, he just… needed some time to think. It felt like just yesterday everything happened… felt like just yesterday him and Jackie were having fun doing gigs, making fun of each other, and fucking around just being gonks together. That just yesterday he had gone out and done the horrid heist at Konpeki Plaza with Jackie and T-bug.. and had lost both of them. And that just yesterday Dexter Deshawn had put a bullet into his head, and he woke up with a terrorist named Johnny fucking Silverhand Yelling at him for a smoke. Truthfully that had only been a few months ago, but it all was still so vivid. The memories kept replaying in V’s head, and every time they did he felt more and more guilty. Didn’t help that he was also dying,  getting worse by the day. Finding a way to save both him and Johnny seemed impossible at this point, but he wasn’t going to just give up, not just yet. V sat up for a moment, setting the bottle of whiskey down as he took off his jacket. “Johnny?” he called out, waiting for a response. Of course the one time he wanted to talk to Johnny he was busy doing who knows what. V sighed, as he leaned back again. He had been feeling a bit down lately, and he couldn’t figure out why.. yeah he knew one of the reasons was because he was dying, but he just didn’t understand what else was making him so down. I mean he had everything he could dream of currently, a pretty and kind lover, a body that he felt comfortable in, fuck he had even been staying in a nice home with the man of his dreams. “Damn it Vincent… everything has been going pretty great, you’ve even got some leads on how to bring back Johnny, stop being such a depressed gonk,” V muttered to himself. He took a long drag of his cigarette, now pressing the cigarette against his arm to put it out. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey leaning back in the lounger, taking a sip of the drink… before just closing his eyes. The rain kept falling from the sky, and at this point V was soaking wet, but he didn’t care, he loved the rain. He took this time to just think about everything, and why he had been so down lately. A few hours passed, which had only seemed like a few minutes to V.. but he had slowly started realizing why he had been feeling the way he had been. Just 2 months ago Kerry had all the time in the world to hang out with him but ever since Kerry had started making music with the Us Cracks and working on his new album they had started hanging out less. “Oh I can’t be upset with that, he’s happy, and that’s all that matters,” he spoke to himself, now softly sighing, before thinking about it more. I keep waking up to nothing. I used to wake up with Kerry right next to me, all snuggled up, but now I wake up in the morning and he’s already up, already doing something else. He’s often busy now as well, we rarely talk. Lately, I’ve only seen him in the morning playing guitar on the couch or at dinner. Working towards finding a cure has also made it hard to see or talk to him but I’ve been trying to make time. But it seems every time I am able to get some time off to just hang out with him, he’s busy. I just want things to work out in the end… but I don’t even know if Kerry has noticed that I’ve been getting worse. I can barely eat, feel sick every time I try to, and I’m getting weaker by the day. I’ve been having more frequent seizures, and barely can recover from them…

Vincent had got so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that he had started crying, or that Johnny had appeared next to him. “Ay, kiddo I promise you things are going to work out, even if I have to get wiped,” Johnny stated as he looked down at V. “I’m not letting that fucking happen Johnny, and you know that, and you know how bad things have been getting…,” he now looked up at Johnny, “I just need you to promise me something okay fuckface?”

“Alright kiddo, have no idea what you need me to promise you, but I promise,” Johnny laughed softly, sitting down on the side of the lounge chair. “If I don’t wake up one morning and you wake up in my body… I want you to take care of Kerry for me, help him get over my death..” V looked off to the side before looking back at Johnny, “Just be there for him, make him happy… got it..?” He now closed his eyes again, yawning.

Johnny sat in silence for a moment before speaking, “Alright, got it.” Johnny said softly, running his hand through V’s hair. “I just wish we both could live, that’s all I want Johnny, for us to live and both be happy,” V stated softly, before drifting off to sleep.

#cyberpunk 2077 #trevorite #male v #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk vincent #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #kerry eurodyne x v #male v x kerry #cyberpunk kerry #johnny silverhand #fanfic #sad fanfiction

[aceghosts]

[DISBELIEF]: after the receiver has done something completely unexpected (and reckless) the stunned sender cups their face in their hands while trying to get them to explain why the hell they did it. + Rooney x Yorinobu 💕

Thank you for sending in this prompt! I took some liberties with it while writing it, but I got it done!

[Prompt List]

Summary: In the parking garage after a dinner date, Rooney Shepard and Yorinobu Arasaka are attacked. The event (and Yorinobu's actions) leave Rooney feeling shaken. Title comes from Bring Me The Horizon's Kingslayer. Words: 2.4k Content Warnings: Just canon typical violence, and Rooney's perpetual fear of not being enough to save the people they love. Author's note: Coming up with Restaurant names fucking sucks. That's all.

Taglist (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @alexxmason, @carlosoliveiraa, @captmactavish, @cloudofbutterflies92, @direwombat, @cassietrn, @voidika, @strangefable, @theelderhazelnut, @fourlittleseedlings, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @clicheantagonist

AO3

“What did you think?” Yorinobu asks, pleased with himself. Rare Vibes, an exclusive restaurant, was highly recommended and only served high-end clientèle like himself and Shepard. He looks over to his left, Shepard on his arm as they walk back to his car in the parking garage, a custom-designed Rayfield. They look gorgeous tonight, dressed in all black. Shepard seamlessly blended in with himself and others of similar status. Yet, even in a place like Rare Vibes, he could still see the soldier in them, ocean-blue eyes vigilantly scanning the restaurant for any threats to themself or Yorinobu. Tonight made him realize something important. What if this could be the duo’s life? A future where Shepard stayed, where they helped him take down Arasaka. That sounded magnificent. 

“The food was good,” Shepard replies neutrally, leaving Yorinobu wondering what else they could possibly want, “could have used some hot sauce.” He shakes his head, a smile on his lips. Shepard was religious about their hot sauce. “There was something that I enjoyed more than the food.”

Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, he asks, “What would that be?”

They look at him with a slightly shy smile, their cheeks faintly red. “My favorite part of the night was spending time with you. I really enjoyed getting the chance to have a nice date with you like two normal people,” a second later, their smile turns to frown, “or as normal as it could be.”

“Shepard,” He places his hand over their hands, “Life with me will not be what you are used to, but I promise you that you can adapt to it.” Shepard’s frown deepens, seemingly uncomfortable with that fact. It is the reality of his life, and Shepard will need to adapt or leave. Yorinobu hopes that they will adapt to it, hopes that he is worth the temporary discomfort. “It will take time; it does not happen overnight.”

“If you say so.” The two lapse into silence as they continue towards the Rayfield. As the pair reach the car, only a few meters away, Shepard stiffens, their grip on his arm loosening. Yorinobu notices them stealthily looking around, trying not to raise suspicion as they survey the scene. He also knows the look on their face: their mouth set in a grim line and their eyes narrowed. Yorinobu has seen that look when watching Shepard participate in combat tests, focused and lethal.

“Is something the-?”

“Don’t,” Shepard keeps their voice low, leaning in so he will be the only one to hear them, “When you get in the car, call Arasaka Security and get the hell out of here.”

“Will you be in the car with me?”

“No, I won’t.” Yorinobu does not like the determined tone of their voice; he likes the idea of leaving Shepard behind even less. Why does he get the feeling that Shepard is going to do something reckless?

“Please don’t do anything rash.”

"No promises,” He catches a slight smirk before it disappears, a serious look returning as they slip out of his arm, “RUN!”

On Shepard’s command, he runs toward the car, only glancing over his shoulder once he reaches the car. Shepard roundhouse kicks an attacker in the face, sending them crashing towards the ground. Another attacker appears between two cars, rushing Shepard from behind. “Shepard!” He lets go of the car door, turning on his heel to go back to them. 

“NO!” They yell, ducking to the left to narrowly avoid a punch. “GET HELP!”

Shepard is right. Despite wanting to run to them, he listens, knowing that he might be more of a burden. Yorinobu knows he can help them by bringing in reinforcements, namely Arasaka security. He would typically avoid Arasaka security, but permission to take Shepard out of the facility was to involve Arasaka Security instead of the police in case of emergency. Jumping into the open car, he turns it on, the door closing as he dials Arasaka security.  “Yorinobu-sama, what is the nature-?”

He cuts them off, putting the Rayfield into drive. “Send an evacuation and combat team immediately. Shepard and I are under attack.”

“Yes, Yorinobu-sama. Please stay on the line. We suggest retreating to a safe distance if possible and allowing the combat team to handle this situation.”

And leave Shepard behind? Absolutely not. Wheeling the Rayfield out of the spot, Yorinobu catches sight of Shepard surrounded by three attackers. Their monowire glows a bright blue in the dimly lit parking lot as Shepard stares down their assailants. Shepard could handle this, but Yorinobu thinks that it is time for someone to even the odds. “No, send the team now.” He hangs up as the three start to advance towards Shepard. Pressing down on the gas, he speeds towards the three, sharply turning at the moment, drifting into the three attackers. 

Shepard’s eyes widen as they jump out of the way, tucking into a neat roll as they land. One of the assailants quickly follows suit, but Yorinobu hits the other two. As the Rayfield slams into the attackers, it sends one flying into parked cars, leaving a dent on the hoods as they land. Car Alarms start blaring, headlights flashing. The other is sent straight into a concrete wall, leaving a dent as they slide down. 

The Rayfield spins, slamming into another parked car. Yorinobu is dazed by the impact as the airbag ejects, the car groaning. A second later, the engine whines, followed by a death rattle. He catches his breath, his senses coming back to him. Yorinobu turns the key, hoping the car will respond. Instead, it sits silent, unresponsive as he tries a few more times. 

CRACK! His head whips over in Shepard’s direction, fearful it might be them. Instead, an assailant screams, holding their knee as Shepard looms over them. Shepard swiftly ends the scream, their metal fist connecting with the attacker’s jaw in a mean left hook. They slump to the ground as Shepard looks up at him, fiercely glaring. “I thought I-.”

The other attacker, the one who landed on the cars, gets up, shaking their head. Mantis blades appear, glowing a sinister red. They launch themself at Shepard, who whips out their monowire, deftly dodging the attack. Yorinobu’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Shepard block the next attack, sparks flying as blade meets wire. Watching Shepard has always been mesmerizing, even more so in real combat. Shepard is a force of nature. Unyielding. Unrelenting. They’re almost a neon blue blur, dodging and attacking so quickly. 

Heavy stomps draw his attention in another direction as Yorinobu realizes the third assailant is coming for him. Fuck! He needs to get out of the car. Now. To his left, the driver’s side door is pinned by another car, leaving it unable to open. Unclipping his seat belt, Yorinobu reaches for the passenger door, hoping it might open. He hears the click of the door, but nothing happens, leaving him utterly trapped. Grabbing Kongou from the glovebox, he aims the gun towards the attacker, flicking the safety off. Yorinobu will not allow himself to be easily killed. If anything, he will take his attacker with him. The attacker raises his arm, revealing a charging projectile. 

Fortune favors him as Shepard looks over, realizing the situation. A ring of electric blue glows in their eyes, the telltale sign of a quickhack. (Yorinobu is glad that he convinced the team to allow Shepard to have a few quickhacks.) Their attacker screams, hands over her eyes. Shepard dashes away, towards him as his attacker draws closer, preparing to launch.

THWIP! The neon blue wire wraps itself around the attacker’s neck, flesh burning as electric volts course through him. Shepard pulls back on the wire, his attacker stumbling backward as the projectile fires. The missile soars over Yorinobu’s head, hitting the ceiling of the parking lot, some concrete tumbling to the ground. Shepard continues to pull his attacker back as the other one recovers. The other attacker, now recovered from the quickhack, launches themself at Shepard, blades raised.

Shepard dodges, whipping his attacker into Mantis Blades attacker, the two colliding. Both slam into each other, before eventually crashing into the ground. As Shepard readies themself for the next attack, loud sirens blare. “LAY YOUR WEAPONS DOWN NOW! ANY MOVEMENT WILL BE MET WITH FORCE!” Shepard retracts their monowire, raising their hand in surrender. Flicking the safety back on, Yorinobu sighs in relief, glad for them both to be alive. 

—

It is nearly 3 AM by the time Shepard and Yorinobu return to the facility. During the questioning by Arasaka’s security team, Shepard has not looked at him once, answering most questions with a robotic and detached tone. Any that mention Yorinobu being attacked immediately sparks anger in Shepard’s voice. He also notices them hovering over him as the medical team inspects him, watching the team suspiciously. Following them down the hallway towards their room, he asks,  “How are you feeling?”

Shepard stops suddenly, Yorinobu bumping into them. He steps back, opening his mouth to apologize as Shepard turns around to face him. They look furious as they cup his face tightly. Their hands are comforting, yet trembling slightly as they hold him. “What the hell were you thinking?” Shepard snarls. 

He glares, anger rising within himself. “I hoped I could distract-.”

“What you did was reckless, dangerous, and stupid,” Shepard cuts him off, “You’re lucky that your little stunt didn’t leave you with a concussion or worse, and you’re even luckier that you didn’t get blown to smithereens. You should have listened to me; you should have left.”

Yorinobu cannot believe what he is hearing. “I am not stupid, Shepard,” He snaps, Shepard’s eyes widening slightly, “and, you cannot be suggesting what I think you are.”

They look slightly apologetic as they admit, “You aren’t stupid. I’m sorry; I shouldn’t have called you that.” However, Yorinobu should know better than to think the lecture is over. “And yes, I am suggesting what you think I am. You should have left. Your priority should have been getting yourself to safety. You should have left the parking garage and headed back to the facility. Or the nearest Arasaka building. Or a police station. You should not have come back for me.”

“Why would you ask me to do that?”

“To protect you. To make sure that you survive.” Everything clicks into place. Shepard is not angry; they are terrified for him. He thinks back earlier to when Arasaka Security arrived. Shepard refused to let anyone look at them until he had been checked out, stubbornly insisting that they were fine. He also remembers how they hovered over him, watching carefully for any threat. Even now, he sees the sign of fear: their ocean-blue eyes look like a tumultuous ocean under stormy skies. They are trembling, holding his face like they are trying to reassure themself that Yorinobu is here and safe, that all of this is real. He knows what must be running through their mind. Shepard must have been terrified that they would have failed to protect him, to watch him die despite their best efforts. Another death in a long string of deaths that followed Shepard in their wake.  

“Shepard,” He starts gently, “Were you scared that I was going to get hurt?”

They release his face, hands dropping down to their sides. Shepard nods, looking ashamed of their behavior.  

He pulls them in for a hug, Shepard stiffening in surprise. A second later, they relax, wrapping their arms around his waist and burying their face in the crock of his neck. Stroking their dark red hair, he comforts them, “I am alive, Shepard, because of you. You saved my life tonight. You need not worry; you will not lose me.”

“I know,” They reply, voice slightly muffled, “I was just terrified that they might hurt you, and I would be powerless to stop it.”

“I trust you, Shepard. I know you will do everything in your power to protect me, and if tragedy happens, it will not be your fault.”  

“Thanks," They sound unconvinced, but unwilling to argue with him, "Does that mean the next I tell you to run, you’ll listen?”

“On one condition,” Shepard pulls out of his arms, tilting their head in confusion at his request, “If you ask me to leave you behind, promise me you will come back alive.”

Their eyes widen, surprise flickering across their face. Eventually, Shepard softens, looking at him warmly with a soft red on their cheeks. “I promise I’ll come back alive.”

“Good.” Noticing Shepard seems exhausted as they try to stifle a yawn, Yorinobu holds out his arm for them, “Allow me to escort you back to your room.”

Shepard does not fight him, looping their arm through his as they rest their head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m beat. You must be too. If you want, you can stay the night.” 

Smirking, he teases them, “Asking me to stay the night in your bed? I will need to find my way into danger more often.”

They roll their eyes, pretending not to be amused. “Yeah, now you’re getting the couch.” Shepard teases with a charming smirk. 

“What if I am cold on the couch? What if I need someone to warm me up during the night?” He jokes back. 

“You’ll just have to freeze,” They reply sarcastically. 

“You would leave me to freeze? How cruel.” 

Shepard laughs at his fake admonishment. “We could always get you an extra blanket.”   “I would prefer you, and,” he adds with a knowing tone, “Arasaka couches are very uncomfortable. I will wake up sore. You would not do that to me, would you?”

They raise an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

“I fell asleep on one.” Yorinobu had been jetlagged, falling asleep on one while waiting for a meeting. He was sore for a whole week afterward, unable to move without some part of his body aching. 

“Yorinobu, are you sure it wasn’t because you’re an old man? The elderly need to be careful about the way they sleep.”

“Not that old, Shepard,” He retorts, “and very rich coming from someone into an older man.”   “Touché,” they reply, “And I’m kidding. We’re going to share a bed. Can’t have you freezing to death or breaking a hip on my conscience.” Softly, they add, their tone more sentimental, “I’m really glad that you are okay.” 

“I am glad that you are unharmed too, Shepard,” He presses a kiss to their head, truly glad for Shepard’s safety.

#kate writes #the rooney fic tag #commander rooney shepard #I won't let fear compromise who I am #OTP: It always comes right back to you #yorinobu arasaka x OC #v: cyberpunk 2077 #I'm not putting this in the main tags lol #kinda struggled with this one #but I finished #and I hope the ending comes across as teasing and goofy #and not cringy #but what I can say #you win some you lose some #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cp2077 fanfic

[yns-world]

Johnny Silverhand Boyfriend Headcanons

Pairing: Johnny Silverhand x Reader A/N: i'm not sorry, i simply cannot sit here and lie that johnny would be a good bf LMAOOOO as always, feel free to send in any requests or anything you may have :) reblogging helps my account more than likes! :D

in no world will johnny silverhand win Boyfriend of The Year award, all he knows how to do is project all of his flaws, insecurities, and problems onto you.

the longer you stick around, the deeper the shit gets. a month into it, you’ll be questioning how the fuck a man so fundamentally messed up could end up with a relationship in the first place.

this man will have you doubting your own resolve. he blames you for every wrong thing in his life (which is a lot). sometimes when he’s really digging his own shithole, he’ll start blaming you for all that is wrong with this world (he’s delusional, but damn do those words hurt).

your friends, family, even some of johnny’s fans will try to shake you awake and let you know that you gotta sever this cord if you want to live. by the third month, you’ll want to leave with nothing but the clothes on your back, but this is where things take a turn for the worst.

when you finally put your foot down and decide to break up with this shitshow of a man, johnny will pull out all the stops to prevent you from leaving.

i’m talking gaslighting, manipulation, lovebombing, you name it.

whatever he has to do, he’ll do it. 

he’ll tell you he’s sorry, he’ll cry and beg, he’ll even get on his knees and swear he’ll change. 

but you’re sick and tired, and it doesn’t work. 

so the last resort is break up sex.

johnny will soon learn that break up sex is the one thing he needs to do in order to keep you in his clutches.

it works like a charm, and it works every time. 

by now, your relationship can’t even be called a “relationship”. all you do is argue, hurt each other, threaten to leave, and then fuck. 

you only date him because of the dick tbh. there’s not a single positive thing you can point out about him. 

months have passed by, and this has become your routine. 

in the beginning, you had expected some sort of bare minimum boyfriend, but after months of disappointment, emotional turmoil, and pain, johnny has turned you into exactly what he is: a self-loathing bastard.

#yns world #cyberpunk johnny #cyberpunk 2077 x reader #cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x reader #johnny silverhand x v #cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader

[elvenbeard]

Somewhere in Manila, 2078

“It is pretty nice here,” V said, and Kerry put his arm around him, pulling him a bit closer as he turned his head to look at him.

“C’mon, just ‘pretty nice’?” he asked grinning.

“Okay, it’s beautiful, breathtaking, astounding!” V said and Kerry chuckled, “You weren’t exaggerating.”

“And this is just the hotel! Wait ‘til you see the city. And the beaches! But we gotta drive a little to get to the better ones. Nothin’ beats the one in Tangalan anyway, but that’ll have to wait 'til next week…”

Kerry went on rambling about all they had planned, everything he wanted to show V, parties and events they could go to, the secret spots only he and maybe a handful of other people knew. Some of it all sounded quite adventurous, and V still struggled to imagine Kerry clambering through the jungle to get to some of these extra special hidden gems. But his excitement was downright infectious. Truly just adorable. V was relieved to see Kerry so genuinely happy again, too, the stress of the last weeks really had been weighing him down. Getting ready for this trip in the background had been his sole motivator for staying on top of the mountain of promo events for his album.

Just three more interviews before we can get on the plane. Just this one photoshoot, and then I can finally start packing my stuff. That one private show, that one industry party, that one red carpet, and then Lee can kiss my ass and we’ll fuck off across the Pacific.

Being here now finally, chilling at the hotel bar and recovering from the long flight, still felt somewhat surreal.

“… - and we really gotta go to Quinta Market later. Gonna cure your resentment to street food there once and for all.”

Kerry took a sip of his drink, then looked back at V, who had been watching him the whole time, a little tired and absentmindedly, but full of affection.

“What?” he asked, frowning slightly, but kept up his smile, the silver lines around his eyes and down his cheeks sparkling in the setting sun.

“Nothin’,” V said, “I’m happy you’re happy to be back here, is all.”

Kerry leaned over and gave him a quick kiss.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” he said, “That’s all that matters.”

AAAAHHH. A little bit of behind the scenes rambling here!!!

I didn't forget to take a pic of my setup at least this time XD I set this up at Denny's pool (free of concrete thankfully), because there is little distracting Night City scenery in the background that would destroy the illusion of this not being Night City xD But admittedly, the setup was a little rushed bc I just wanted to do some fluffy pics. I could actually spend hours setting up my scenes with all the awesome props I keep discovering o.o

Also: I had Kerry's summer vibes outfit ready since early June, but just didn't get around to doing anything with it until two weeks ago, AND THEN I didn't have time to edit the pics because other stuff kept grabbing my attention instead xD

But there is more to come, I have a whole lot more summer pics ready, all incredibly fluffy... because I need some fluff and knowing they have this in their future waiting for them, while on the side I'm writing the most angsty fic with constant dread and setbacks and death looming on the horizon, you know XD

Dad Shirts by @pinkyjulien 💛 I love them so much, I want Kerry's shirt for myself irl, it's my fave of the tropical recolors, the colors and pattern are so nice... and suit him so well imo!!

Also this is totally the follow up to the road trip pics I posted last week. They drove to L.A., spent a day or two there, and then hopped on the plane to Manila xD

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk kerry #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #kerry eurodyne #vincent ezaki #kerry eurodyne x v #otp: to bad decisions #shippy saturday #cyberpunk vp #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #virtual photography #my writing #my vp

[brrambleberry]

When V and Johnny burst back into the Afterlife, they begin to be known as the Cockroach. Affectionately, of course, anyone who sneered out the moniker would quickly find they weren’t able to eat solids for months or find welcome at the club.

Johnny didn’t like it at first, his ego sliced by the realisation that the people in his life did better without him in theirs. V threw humour over it when she reminded him of how he had pulled through to the other side of a nuclear devastation, and it was impossible for him to keep a straight face at any mention of it afterwards.

V was proud as fuck that her reputation was of someone difficult to kill, in spite of all the odds. Flattered as well, she took more care than was due to style and maintain her vibrant ‘ganic copper hair. Her whole schtick was being the fiery femme, the ruthless red-head, a babe serving brutal beat-downs.

Individually, they were pests. Forced proximity turned them into a fucking menace. Clair started stocking twice as much centzon as before, and Emmerick had to invest in cyberware to stabilise his blood pressure. If it had been anyone else, Rogue would have banned them long ago. As it stood, V was her best contractor, and life had become just a little bit brighter with them in it.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #female v #cyberpunk #the afterlife #rogue amendiares #night city #kerry eurodyne #fem v cyberpunk #fem v #silverv #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

[chessalein]

Chapter picture for Chapter 50 of "Bringing back the sun".

I love this picture very much, they look so happy and just loved ♥

Here is a cropped version:

#cyberpunk 2077 #jackie welles #misty olszewski #virtual photography #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #Love #Cozy #kisses #Wholesome

[merge-conflict]

indicators of compromise

Alex has a glass waiting for Reed when he returns, and she catches a glimpse of a smile when he slides across the booth from her. Check: favorite drink is gin. He pulls the glass a little closer but doesn’t pick it up, hunching slightly as he settles. Check: chronic pain from old wounds. His thumb rubs against the rim, and he sighs.

“Any blank spots?” he asks, without preamble. Check: gets down to business.

“A few,” Alex says. “Three, maybe four, depending on how you slice it. Longest was about five minutes.”

“When?”

“After your conversation with Hansen and So Mi.” Alex slides the laptop a little closer. In the darkened interior of the Moth, the screen is painfully bright. “Did you see the way she reacted when So Mi touched her?”

“Mhm.” Reed finally lifts the glass, takes a drink. “Bit of a jolt. That what you want to show me?” Check: an eye for detail.

“In a manner of speaking– something showed up on her interface. Not sure what it was, since she had me sandboxed. Supposed to filter out everything but the raw feed– of course not all soft plays nice with that kind of thing. So you get these ugly boxes instead.”

Reed is quiet as she pulls up the recordings, scrubbing through the timeline. Check: patience of a saint. She’d been double-checking her work before he’d walked in, trying in vain to glean certainty from obfuscation. Coincidence is not correlation, and correlation is not cause, but it is always worth a little investigation. Sometimes it really is the small things.

“Here,” she says, on the paused video, her finger hovering over the top left of V’s vision. In this frame, it’s clear, showing the far wall over So Mi’s shoulder. “You can see top right, where there’s a bit of a smudge– she’s got something on her interface there, which also doesn’t play nice with the sandbox. We can’t read it, obviously, but we know it’s there. Now watch when So Mi brushes past her–“

She advances it, a few frames at a time, as V turns her head to watch So Mi pass by. After a few moments she stops, hearing Reed’s muttered little huh under his breath. She taps on the screen, where there’s a discolored rectangular smudge of pixels in the top left. (Figure Two)

“Okay, I see it,” he says. “Coincidence isn’t correlation though–“

“It happens twice more,” Alex interrupts, panning forward to the next one. She’d been working her way backwards once she’d noticed it. “Once, when she sees you at the bar. And one final time, when she took that little detour on the way out. Each time, it coincides with a specific event: So Mi’s touch (Figure Two), her seeing you, (Figure Three) her deciding to wander down a dark path after Hansen threw you out. (Figure Four)”

“That’s three,” Reed says. Check: good recall. “What’s the fourth?”

“Happens on her first sweep of the floor,” Alex tells him, scrubbing back quickly, the entire party turning into little more than a smear of light and color. “She doesn’t react the same as the other times, though– just pauses for a moment and then continues on. Hold on, here it is.”

“Huh. Looks a little familiar, but I can’t place the name.”

“Hideshi Hino,” Alex says. “At least I think so– she looks like she recognizes him, whoever he is, but she doesn’t get any closer.”

“Not really a blank spot,” Reed says. “You sure they’re all related?”

“I don’t think it’s the same thing as So Mi’s blank spots,” Alex says. “If I had to be honest, it seems like she’s having a conversation with someone. You’ve seen people take silent calls before. Attention starts to drift, they fidget– except for Hino it all fits the bill.”

“Like someone else was watching her too,” Reed muses, leaning back in the booth with a heavy sigh. “Some sort of handler, maybe?”

“But who?” Alex asks, frustrated. “Is Myers keeping a close eye? You said she seemed unusually interested in V.”

“Not really her style. I’ll see what I can find out, but we’ve got another problem.” Reed plays with his glass, avoiding Alex’s eye. Check: keeps important info annoyingly close to the chest. “Handler or not that brush with Hansen seemed to spook her. We left things a little… up in the air. Was hoping you might reach out, talk her down from the ledge.”

“She backed out?” Alex asks, surprised. Spooked is not how she’d read V’s body language in that elevator. “What’d she say?”

“Nothing specific,” Reed says, and he must be tired because he’s finally let the annoyance seep into his voice. “She was angry, but I don’t know why. You ever wonder how So Mi communicates with her, while Hansen’s got her locked up?”

“Not exactly my area of expertise,” Alex reminds him, as though he needs reminding. So Mi’s presence is in her absence: one of the empty seats in what had once been a crowded booth.

“Mm.” Reed takes a long drink, letting his eyes drift close for a moment. “Will you do it?”

“Thought you were the recruiter,” she says, pettily.

“She’s Myers’ recruit, not mine,” he says, unperturbed. “Less interested in an oath to the NUSA than a promise to the president. Think she could use a personal appeal.”

“And you’re not her type?”

His eyes flick open, frowning. Check: not a pushover. “Just talk with her Alex. So Mi trusts her, and we’re not going to be able to replace her this late in the game. See if you can figure out why’s she upset, and if anyone’s pulling her strings. Don’t push too hard.”

Alex leans back with a sarcastic two-finger salute. “Yes, sir.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #my fic #phantom liberty #solomon reed #alena “alex” xenakis #indicators of compromise #ope just gonna throw this out here unedited because what the hell #decided to scrap everything I'd written before I've got a way better premise now

[wanderingaldecaldo]

WIP Wednesday/Whenever

Tagged by @rosapexa, thank you! Tagging in turn with the usual disclaimers: @cybervesna @shimmer-like-agirl @dustymagpie @theviridianbunny @butchsquatch @medtech-mara @streetkid-named-desire

Modding

A couple of casual outfits for Ros, using wing's shoes and cubfan's jeans recolors (skinny bitch has her own tight jeans mesh). Shirt on the left is an existing variant of Wakako's that I really liked; right is Denny's that I'm recoloring for her.

Working on importing a jacket for fem V (yeah okay, it's really for Ros). I'm tweaking the mesh now so it works with Veegee's suit, then it's onto normals and textures

Writing

I've had a couple of drabbles that morphed into ideas for photoshoots, which in turn expanded into full scenes I started writing. This is one such drabble-turned-scene because of the pic below. Kinda long so putting most after the cut.

“Do you know what you’re asking of me?” Her brow furrows as she pauses to look at V, as if considering something for the first time. “Of yourself?”

Anxiety flooding her chest, V feels the familiar urge to jump ship at the first sign of trouble and wants to let go, to retreat; but Rosalind squeezes her fingers and holds her gaze, her eyes serious yet soft, keeps her grounded, and V lets out a long breath.

“Maybe not, but be a gonk move to let you leave ’thout saying something, wouldn’t it?”

“Constantly surrounded by Secret Service. Say goodbye to any privacy once media and screamsheets find out, not to mention all the fanatics and anti-government zealots.” 

Rosalind looks at their hands while V wonders what to say. She’d thought about media and screamsheets but hadn’t considered the constant need for security. What would the logistics even look like for dating a sitting President? Maybe this is the gonk move.

“Then there’s the job.” Rosalind meets her eyes again, brow furrowed and lips tugged downward. “The country is first, always. I am always the President.”

That she had expected, and she chuckles softly. “Of course. Look, know what your priorities are, never gonna change. The rest?” She shrugs. “Deal with it as it comes.” 

The flirting earlier today and during dinner bolstered her confidence, but now it deflates under the penetrating stare that has laid waste to politicians, generals, and corpos alike, and she looks away.

“Alright, V,” she says at last. Trying not to betray the surprise she feels, V looks up to find her watching with a soft smile. “Let’s see where this ride goes.”

She feels light enough to explode and she leans forward, kissing her hard.

“And the bedroom?” she asks with a grin when she pulls away.

“That’s up to the FSS,” Rosalind answers with a smirk. Frowning, V tries to decipher the answer while Rosalind's eyes light up as she receives a call, and the smirk grows wider as she listens. “Yes? Thank you.” The light disappears as the call cuts off. “They just gave the green light.”

The frown deepens as she finally gets it. “Wait, you swept my apartment?”

“Of course. I warned you about the Secret Service. Did you think they’d let me wander off to an apartment in Heywood without inspecting it, as well as ensuring a private entrance?”

V scoffs. “You had them sweeping it before I asked you to spend the night.” Rosalind’s eyes crinkle and she purses her lips in a vain attempt at holding back the ever-growing smirk, but it only exaggerates it further. “Planning on spending the night all along.”

Rosalind shrugs, the smirk replaced by an elegant smile, but her eyes remain warm and crinkled. “What can I say? I’m a politician; I like to keep my options open.”

#rosalind myers #president rosalind myers #madam president #valerie vermilion #streetkid!val #myers x v #myers x fem v #wlw ship #milfguard #aka president's merc au #mods i made #wash's writing #wip wednesday #wip whenever #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic

[olath124]

We've done it... It seems like I've figured out how to make working (well, mostly working at least...) poses for Cyberpunk Photomode. Sooo...

Dramah pics! A shitload of them! With badly made poses that clip with each other soooo much! XD... But hey, what you can't see...

So, I wanted to make a pic for this scene so much, but of course, I couldn't find the exact pose for exactly what I wanted. So, being the stubborn little tough bunny I am I decided to learn how to do my own poses!

Of course, without @cybervesna and @blackrevell I'd still be here trying to figure out why everything doesn't work as it's supposed to be, so... Thank you very much, to both of you!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk #my v #kurt hansen #v is for violet #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #fanfiction #phantom liberty #violet #cp2077 #fem v #virtual photography #VP #cyberpunk photomode