#cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction

[misaverawrites]

In the Heat of Your Electric Touch

((johnny silverhand x reader))

summary: you're the manager of SAMURAI, johnny talks to you about changing his image after some reflection since Alt died, you decide that he can do what’s best for him… and you might be it.

tags: no arasaka tower bombing, johnny is a good person, johnny has a body, rockerboy johnny silverhand, samurai stays together, fluff, alt’s death (mentioned), cursing, fluff, forehead kisses, NO PHANTOM LIBERTY SPOILERS

a/n: uhhhh, your honor, i am a 20 year old silly goose with a love for this man.

You stare out over the crowd from backstage, with wide smiles, music amplified by their singing as the bass vibrates through your teeth. You run a hand through your hair, just for a second, pushing away a rogue strand. You take a look at your phone, then back at the stage, where you find Johnny, looking at you with a wide and almost uncharacteristic grin, only to flash it back at the crowd, brandishing horns on his hand, the loud cheers from the crowd egging him on, bringing a small, but not, unwelcome smile to your face. Johnny loved what he did, no one could deny that, even if it seemed he only did it to further his own agenda at times. You knew better though, you and Johnny had spent too much time together on this tour for you to think too far against him.

“Alright, and we want to dedicate this encore to every single one of you!” You hear Kerry say from the stage, the wild roar from the crowd amplifying itself, you tend to watch the crowd more than anything during these shows, it was therapeutic, these people were the lifeblood of bands similar to SAMURAI , and you intended to keep them happy. As SAMURAI closes out their set, as well as Henry’s tab, some of the people start their slow, exhausted post-concert shuffle back out onto the streets of Night City, bags of SAMURAI merchandise in hand, you begin your clean-up, helping stage-hands move everything back onto the van.

“Hey, take a load off, they’ve got it.” You hear Johnny, and you shake your head. “Shouldn’t you be getting under the skirt of some barely-legal SAMURAI fangirl?” You joke and he rolls his eyes, “Fuck off,” he justifies himself, playfully all the same, until his tone gets a bit more serious in nature, “Besides, thinkin’ that’s not all too much my scene anymore.” You laugh, almost dropping the set piece in your hands. “Alright, I’m gonna hear you out, but it sounds like you just started talkin’ like one of those Maelstrom goons after they’ve had one too many implantations, what do you mean ?”

Johnny scoffs and takes the set piece from you, setting it down as he sits you down on the stage, the lingering fans vie successfully for Kerry’s attention, less so successfully for Johnny’s, his attention is all on you.

“I’m just… Fuckin’ sick of it, since Alt, since fuckin’ Arasaka, I don’t wanna ramble in those streets to a God who ain’t listenin’. Y’know?” You sigh and he puts his hand on top of yours, “I just want somethin’... Someone , even who makes me not want to shove an iron in my fuckin’ mouth.” You look at him, just for a second, as if he’s grown two heads, until you realize, from the way he’s looking at you, for once in his life, he’s serious . Your eyes widen a bit, does he mean you ? “It’s not your scene,” You say simply, it’s almost matter-of-fact in delivery.

“What if I wanted it to be?” He asks, that genuine tone of voice still there, he’s still Johnny, he knows what he wants, and he’s pushing for it. Not too hard, lest he drive you away, which is a change all in itself. “I’m the band’s manager, Johnny.” He rolls his eyes a bit, “You’ve been around Corpos a bit too long, babe,” You can’t help but love the way it sounds coming off his tongue, when it’s aimed towards you and not at another girl, “You know the fans don’t care, hell, they live for this stupid drama.” You can’t deny that. Your miles-long social media inbox, brimming with fans begging for any bit of gossip, said that all on its own. You smile a bit, “I mean, if you’re saying it could be your scene, then who am I to fight that, Johnny?” He grins, it’s a big, goofy grin unlike you’d ever seen before from him, “Shit, if you’re willing to allow it, then I guess I’d better not fuck it up.” You and him pause for a moment, not realizing how close the two of you are to one another, bodies pressed tightly against one another, you feel his eyes flicker to your lips for just a moment, until you, for once decide, fuck it . You pull Johnny in and kiss him, he’s warm, warmer than you’d expected whenever you thought about this, his hands meet your elbows awkwardly, he doesn’t know what to do here, and neither do you, really. His lips are chapped against yours and he tastes of cigarettes and tequila, a dangerously addictive combination that makes you want him more and more. You feel his hand suddenly brush against your hair and support the underside of your mouth, giving him more access to your mouth as he deepens the kiss, and everything else is simply null and void, besides him and you.

Until you hear the familiar sound of Kerry, clearing his throat, “Hey, both of you!” He calls, actually subtle for him, as the two of you pull away awkwardly, as though the two of you are teenagers, trying to act cool after being caught getting hot and heavy in a dark movie theater. “We’ve gotta go, bar wants us out, but you two can keep going on the tour bus, cool?” Your skin flushes and you avoid direct eye contact with Kerry, as Johnny chuckles awkwardly, despite himself, trying to keep any sense of his usually un-poised yet still collected poise. You nod, turning to look back at Johnny, who does the same to you, as you both share a small laugh with one another, you playfully push him without any real force, as he wraps his ‘ganic arm around you, kissing your forehead softly as the two of you get onto the tour bus together.

#johnny silverhand x reader #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2020 #cyberpunk red #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #johnny silverhand #keanu reeves #fanfiction #fanfic #writers of tumblr #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing #ao3 writer

[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

[just-a-cybercroissant]

"Yes, Linder found his purpose in life and became a different person. He didn't stop, but moved on. That's why I don't want you to just lie on the bed and wait for death. There is always a way out."

The vibe music for the scene:

I'm so excited to show you guys the AMAZING illustration for the upcoming chapter of "Tower" I commissioned from @ziorre. Thank you so much!

#cyberpunk 2077 #ziorre #oc: valerie attal #johnny silverhand #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanart #I'm sorry it took me so long post it! #But thak you so much for such a wonderful peace of art! #Spotify

[aggravateddurian]

20 August 2023. On this day, Johnny Silverhand, and a little known Militech strike team led by Morgan Blackhand, launched an assault on Arasaka HQ in Night City. Much of what happened in the tower that night is myth and legend.

Some believe that Johnny Silverhand, incensed by the death of his girlfriend Alt Cunningham, decided to nuke the tower as a personal attack on Arasaka. Others, more charitably, claim Silverhand was merely pushed over the edge by the end of the Fourth Corporate War and the obvious devastation this war wrought.

Others believe that Arasaka detonated the nuke themselves to prevent their HQ being compromised. This theory is widely cited by the Red Decade as justification for keeping Arasaka out of NC.

Another states that Morgan Blackhand and a Militech strike team was responsible for the destruction of AHQ. Legend has it that Morgan Blackhand fought Adam Smasher to a standstill, long enough to plant the bomb.

In the aftermath, Johnny Silverhand had vanished, as had Morgan Blackhand. Millions died, and the world was changed forever. Regardless of how it happened, it happened. It is undoubtable that this event made Night City the place it is today.

An excerpt from an essay by Valerie Ocampo-Gonzalez (Grade 11A, Santo Domingo Public High School), 2070

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #arasaka hq bombing #cyberpunk #humans of brothers shadow #oc: valerie ocampo-gonzalez #arasaka tower

[elvenbeard]

Soft OTP asks #9???

HIII this took me a hot minute öaskdhfasf. Thank you so much for asking!! I had this in my drafts forever and just didn't get around to editing it, but now finally here we are 👀

Prompts Handsome As Fuck

(Cyberpunk 2077 fanfic, Kerry Eurodyne x V, 1127 words; prompt: Write about your ship getting dressed up in fancy outfits together.)

“You want one of my ties?” V asked, and Kerry had to pause for a couple of seconds to ensure he’d heard him correctly. His hesitation made V’s head appear from behind the open doors of the wardrobe, and his expression changed from neutral expectation to laughter as he saw the face Kerry made.

“A tie? Do I look like I wear ties to ya?” Kerry asked with played offense and gestured at himself up and down rapidly. His shirt was still unbuttoned, he couldn’t find his belt, and he was already looking forward to switching his suit pants for something more comfortable – or nothing – as soon as they were back home later. He hated that the label made him go to this party, a formal cocktail event… that wasn’t exactly Kerry’s specialty, and the dress code only made it worse.

V snickered and the sound pulled Kerry’s thoughts back to the present. He was glad V’d be there with him tonight, happy to come even, as he didn’t get to dress up fancy for his job at the Afterlife really. He could, technically, but he chose not to, for a variety of reasons.

“Do I look like I wear ties?” V asked, posing to showcase his tattoos, fingers running through colorful strands of hair.

“Well, no,” Kerry shrugged, flustered, “Most of the time, at least. Today a little bit.”

V chuckled softly and returned his attention to the wardrobe briefly. He was already pretty much ready to go, dark pants and shirt, a sleek red blazer, his hair slicked back. It was still way shorter than back when they first met, too short for styling it much into a shape he liked. But he’d finally dyed it in his favorite colors again at least.

Kerry smiled to himself, and before getting too lost in thought once again continued to dig through a bunch of clothes on the armchair by the bed. Finally, his fingers got a hold of the smooth synleather belt he’d been searching for. At the very bottom of the pile, of course. He swiftly put it on and flinched slightly when a hand tapped him on the shoulder.

“Sorry,” V whispered apologetically – he really moved too quietly for his own good sometimes.

“Try this one, goes well with the shirt,” V smiled and handed Kerry a dark blue blazer with fine woven stripes of gold.

“That’s none of mine,” Kerry said as V helped him slip into it, expecting it to be just a tiny bit too tight around the shoulders, and the sleeves a tiny bit too long for him. Sharing t-shirts and other stretchy or less-fitted clothes was no issue between them, but when it came to tailored evening wear – or shoes – the problems began. Yet, this blazer fit Kerry like a glove…

“Now it is,” V grinned and, holding on to Kerry’s lapels, gave him a quick sweet kiss on the lips, “Looking handsome as fuck.”

“You… gonk,” was all Kerry managed to say, too surprised, taken aback, fingers trailing over V’s hands first, then feeling the soft, velvety fabric of the blazer.

“This fits me better than my goddamn wedding suit,” he muttered.

“Yeah, cause your stylist has no clue what she’s doing,” V said with a self-confident shrug, and Kerry chuckled.

“Thank you,” he then just said and kissed V back before slowly stepping in front of the mirror to take a look at himself. And damn yeah… he looked criminally hot, the colors of the jacket accentuating his cyberware and eyes, contrasting with his bare chest.

“Think I’m just gonna leave my shirt open,” he said, turning to see himself from different angles.

V laughed as he passed by behind him, and Kerry noticed him checking him out shamelessly. As he should, Kerry had never felt as good in a suit before.

“You can pull it off,” V said.

“You could, too!” Kerry said, gesturing loosely at V’s shirt buttoned all the way to the top.

“Prefer it like this.”

He picked a dark red tie out of the closet then joined Kerry in front of the mirror to put it on. Kerry watched as swift fingers flung the fabric around and skillfully turned it into a pretty knot.

“My father never taught me that kinda stuff,” he mused a little absentmindedly.

V paused for a moment.

“Neither did mine,” he said seriously, “Some guy in an old video tutorial did. Also taught me how to shave.”

Kerry realized his mistake.

“Ah, fuck… sorry, sometimes I…” he started, but V laughed.

“It’s fine,” he said, tie done neat and tidy, and gave Kerry a quick peck on the cheek before turning to leave, “Kinda flattering, in a way. That you forget it sometimes.”

“Love ya. Just the way you are, V,” Kerry said quietly and turned away from the mirror to follow V downstairs. Their Delamain had just passed by the bedroom windows and landed outside.

V petted the cat goodbye, then they both left the penthouse through the northern patio door.

“I didn’t always,” V mused quietly and Kerry almost paused in his tracks, “Love myself the way I am, I mean. Y’know what I bought from my first paycheck that didn’t go straight to Vik?”

“The newest braindance wreath?” Kerry teased.

“Okay… from my second paycheck,” V corrected himself and Kerry laughed.

“Hmm… not sure.”

“A fitted shirt, that actually didn’t really fit me all that well,” V said, “And a worn-out second-hand blazer, and an awful tie. I’d never owned any of those, my mother would’ve tossed it all out the moment she saw it. And even though I looked like shit, the euphoria when I saw myself in the mirror in that fit was unreal.”

So much suddenly clicked into place with V and his clothing choices for Kerry that he’d never considered before. V sighed as they reached the AV, the door sliding open as they approached.

“Kinda dumb, I know,” he said, “Putting so much weight onto a piece of fabric and outdated gender norms.”

“It’s not dumb at all,” Kerry shook his head and took V’s hand as they sat down inside while Delamain gave his little welcome speech.

“I’m a firm believer in ‘do whatever the fuck makes you happy’. Even if it’s something ‘kinda dumb’ like dressing however you wanna. If it makes ya feel good, go for it.”

V chuckled.

“Thank you,” he said quietly and rested his head on Kerry’s shoulder, “Love ya.”

“Love ya, too,” Kerry said, fingers entangled with his handsome date’s, his mainline, his big, unexpected late-life love story that he couldn’t even have dreamed of... The man that kept surprising him each day by showing him new ways to love himself unconditionally.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk fanfic #cp2077 fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #kerry eurodyne #kerry eurodyne x v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk v #vincent ezaki #otp: to bad decisions #my writing #in which I am randomly hit by feels as I read through this for the first time in a while and yeah ;___;

[cybervesna]

Made one for Rosie and Kurt too, since they're the real Disaster Ship to me. [template] by @togepies

Disclaimer: This is only my headcanon.

#cyberpunk 2077 #kurt hansen #rosalind myers #OTP: American Beauty/American Psycho #phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #colonel hansen #president myers #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #rosalind myers x kurt hansen #kurt hansen x rosalind myers

[olath124]

WIP whenever

Thank you @ouroboros-hideout for the tag, I really missed this. (probably because I'm finally doing something again!).

I'm quite inspired to draw a lot, so I'm coloring the sketch I've uploaded, I've started to draw something else (like... The ideal cover of my fanfiction?), and I'm back to the chibi stuff too, with Aurore that was sadly sitting there during my slump.

On the writing side I'm editing the next chapter, here's a preview! Of course there's a bit of knife play implied... So if you're squeamish about it maybe avoid it (or avoid the fiction altogether because it heavily relies on it... And breath play... and like D/s... but with a brat.)

V follows his movements with an attentive gaze, still not sure if she'll end up with his knife gouged deep into her heart. “Oh, you don't trust me, am I right?” He whispers, raising his eyebrows “Well, you can trust that I have a steady hand. As long as you don't move I won't be hurting you.” He rests his knife flat on her stomach, the coolness on her skin slightly veiled by Aurore's dress makes her instinctively shiver. “Not like that.” He chuckles. “If you're good enough and stay completely still I'll be able to cut only the dress and not your skin...” She lies watching him, her head lifted to meet his gaze, her abdomen contracted to keep her in the position. “So don't move.”

But at the same time I'm writing the chapters ahead.

Trying to take advantage of this manic period!

Tagging everyone of course without pressure!

@cyberholic77 @cybervesna @blackrevell @theviridianbunny @aggravateddurian @wanderingaldecaldo @reilleclan-blog @dustymagpie

#cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 #my v #kurt hansen #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanart #fanart #artists on tumblr #oc artist #my oc #my oc stuff #my artwork

[dreadfulsanity]

Conspiracy or accident? V is following the threads to uncover the true cause behind the late mayor’s death, crossing paths with an infuriating good looking badge, who invokes feelings in her she hasn’t felt in years. And she hates it. Or does she?

Down by the River, chapter 2: Someone Special

#cyberpunk 2077 #oc: crvsh #river ward #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 kudos #johnny silverhand

[corpocyborg]

Tagged by @merge-conflict! Thank you so much! Here's a bit from the forever in progress fourth chapter of Before the Event Horizon - Hall of Mirrors. Which @merge-conflict has already seen because they've been beta-ing this fic for me. (Thanks for that as well!)

From behind her, she heard the click of a trigger pressed partway down. “What kinda sick fuck uses the sound of a man’s own mamá's voice against him?”  V froze. Then, slowly, she raised her hands in surrender. “Okay, you've got me,” she admitted. “Don't do anything rash. Let's talk. May I turn around?” “Fine,” he growled softly. Cautiously, avoiding any possible sign of aggression, V turned. The man she remembered as a constant optimist had clearly found some hidden stores of rage to draw from. He looked at her with outright hatred, his gun pointed directly at the center of her forehead.  “Now,” began Jackie Welles. “Do you have her? Did you kidnap my mom?” That explained the level of anger. For a second, V was torn. It could be useful to let him believe that, but it might be more prudent to calm him down. “I asked you a question, demoña.” “No,” V stated clearly. “Nothing like that. I’m sure your mom is just fine. We don't have her. It’s just a vocal modulator.” “So how’d you know what she sounds like?”  V kept her voice level and even, as if pronouncing each word carefully would convince him she was telling the truth. “You and I, we went to middle school together. Eighth grade. I was at your thirteenth birthday party. Still happen to have the recording.” “Eighth grade?” he said uncertainly. “I don't remember you.” “That doesn't surprise me. I mostly kept to myself.” “More like thought you were better than everyone else.” “Ah.” V smiled slightly. “So you do remember me.”

I'll tag @luvwich, @ghostoffuturespast, @gamerkitten, @fereldanwench, & @another-corpo-rat!

#cyberpunk 2077 #wip whenever #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #tag games

[wanderingaldecaldo]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mitch Anderson/V (Cyberpunk 2077), Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077)/Original Female Character(s), Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077)/Original Character(s) Characters: Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077), V (Cyberpunk 2077) Additional Tags: Birthday Fluff, Sometimes it rains in Night City, Mitch is the Best Input, Gonks in Love, Fluff, Romantic Fluff Series: Part 7 of Into My Arms Summary:

After a lifetime of avoiding her birthday, Mitch convinces Val to have a small celebration at El Coyote Cojo, and they end the evening with vending machine burritos and NiColas. Nothing but fluff. Okay, maybe a taste of angst, but just a drop.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #wash's writing #birthday fluff #not smut for once lmao #val's birthday bash #mitch anderson #cyberpunk mitch #valerie vermilion #streetkid!val #mitch x fem v #mitch x v #mitch x oc #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #rare pair #rarepair #fanfic #fanfiction #mitch x val

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: aymeric cassel x gn reader (Cyberpunk 2077)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: thanks to modern live translation, international couples can thrive.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.05k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: google-translated german and french

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: reader speaks german, but isn't strictly german nor swiss. why german? i'm learning it (i dont have a picture yet again c'est la vie)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Switzerland is not like he'd imagined. What did he know about it? By comparison, most things are expensive, but compensated by jobs' higher pay; the usual crime gangs are almost nonexistent, not many skyscrapers, just as many homeless, the flag is square.

Eh, well, the people were nice enough. No chit chat, thank God, they tended to be more kept to themselves; he could fit in here.

Oh, but it's all terribly dull–Aurore would say it even worse–and it's all because she is now wanted by a crime syndicate in their own homeland that they are laying low in Switzerland. Agh, at least he speaks one of the languages, he blends in.

But his host, offering to hide him and his twin? The host is good, has been great, will continue to be wonderful, and he is so grateful.

Aymeric's never imagined this, falling in love.

He hasn't imagined finding someone to fall in love with at all, the decade of 2070 isn't exactly filled with the best people, him and his sister included. Plus, he's always been too busy to even think about it, unlike his rambunctious sister. There's always been a current job and another one on the horizon, but now he's got nothing to stress over.

He hasn't imagined the feeling of falling in love either. The sweat, the color on his face, the heat of his cheeks, the yearning in his chest, the warmth of you.

"Comment s'est passée ta journée?"

"Gut, aber...landweilig."

Modern technology, live translation and subtitles, made it easier for international partners to exist together, to love each other.

Aymeric smiles, sitting down on the couch right next to your tired form, handing you a coffee. You take a sip, it's just the way you like it; funny, considering he doesn't drink coffee himself.

"And you?" You ask, leaning against the arm he wraps around the back of the couch, around you. (Und du?)

"Boring too, yeah." He sighs, looking away for a moment. "You are what illuminates my day, after all." (Ennuyeux aussi, ouais. Tu es ce qui illumine ma journée, après tout.)

"What's with the flattery today?" You chuckle, putting your coffee down on the table. You don't need all of it, he's there to wake you. (Was hat es mit der Schmeichelei heute auf sich?)

"Can't I be nice to you?" Aymeric's expression is always quite passive, so the narrowing of his eyes with very clear sass is welcomed with a laugh. (Je ne peux pas être gentil avec toi?)

You shake your head at him, then let it settle against his arm, "No, you're right. Do be nice to me more often, though?" (Nein, du hast recht. Sei aber öfter nett zu mir?)

He rolls his eyes at that, "Oh, shut up." (Oh, ferme la.)

You give him a pointed look, in turn, "Where is being nice now?" (Wo ist jetzt nett zu sein?)

The two of you settle down for some nice relaxation, your head against his arm, your sides pressed against each other, his hand on yours, and watch the TV. Local news, never exciting, the odd traffic accident or two, or something about the government. Much like the time you've spent apart today, it's dull.

"I have an idea." You perk up suddenly, raising your head from his arm. (Ich habe eine Idee.)

"That so?" He sits up a little to better look at you, turning the TV volume down without tearing his eyes away from yours. "What is it?" (C'est vrai? Qu'est-ce que c'est?)

"Let's turn off our translators." (Schalten wir unsere Übersetzer aus.)

"What?" He asks, a sharp quoi? you recognize. It's a silly idea, you know it, he does too. Why would he willingly decide to stop understanding you?

"I wanna see just how much German you've picked up from me." You defend, shooting him a cheeky smile he can't shoot down. (Ich möchte sehen, wie viel Deutsch du von mir gelernt hast.)

He has to tear his eyes away from your smile to consider it in his own terms. "That's..." It wasn't so much a bad idea, actually. It might just be fun. What else has he got to do with his time, anyway? "alright, maybe it does sound fun." (C'est…ok, peut-être que ça a l'air amusant.)

"Sehen? OK." (See?)

You turn off your translator, as does he, washing a momentary blue sheen over both your irises to signal the quick action.

You begin first, tentatively, "Um, also, Aymeric?" (so, Aymeric?)

"Ce n'est pas exactement un mot allemand." He says, in French, and you definitely have no idea what he's saying, or well, you've got a hint: allemand meaning "German", and "Ce n'est pas" being quite a basic French thing: it is not. (That's not exactly a German word.)

You laugh, piecing context together, "Du hast recht, das ist es nicht." (You're right, it isn't.)

His eyes flash for a moment, not blue, but inquisitively. "J'ai raison?"

Raison? Reason? That's kind of English. You've only got the basics from high school you learned what feels like long ago, but you know what reason means. "Oui, du hast...raison." (Yes, you have...reason.)

Oui, he likes the way you say oui, it's cute, especially because you imitate his accent. He thinks back on what he's heard you say, "Kaffee, mit Milch, zwei Würfelzucker." (Coffee, with milk, two sugar cubes.)

You laugh, and though maybe it should make him a little embarrassed, he only thinks about how he likes the sound. He didn't quite nail the "ü" but you understood. "Vous ne buvez café." (You don't drink coffee.)

You had missed some things, mainly "pas de" after "buvez", but he understood. "Du hast recht, ich ne trinke pas kaffee." (You're right, I don't drink coffee.)

And he used French negation instead of German. "Okay, genug davon." You shake your head, "Ich habe tatsächlich etwas zu sagen." (Alright, enough of that. I actually have something to say.)

Aymeric has no idea what you've just said, but knows that perhaps you want to change topics by the way you shake your head. He's still confused, anyhow, but that feeling fades away when he feels your hand reach past his face and touch the cool chrome at the back of his head, one of his most vulnerable points, the netrunner connection. He can't help but gasp, and his eyes follow your arm until he can't see it anymore, past his head; and yet, he doesn't pull your hand away, nor his head away, because he knows he's safe with you.

"Aymeric." You say, catching his attention, calling his eyes back to yours. "Je t'aime." (I love you.)

"Ich liebe dich auch." He returns. His eyes swirl, again, not blue, but with adoration. (I love you too.)

You continue to hold him with a hand of his chrome, while he reaches to hold you, his fingers tracing over the shard port behind your ear. His lips near yours and you kiss, holding each other.

Maybe you will never learn each other's languages, but you will continue to understand each other beyond that.

#cyberpunk 2077 x reader #cyberpunk 2077 x gn reader #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #💞 // darlings #🎟️ // cyberpunk 2077 #🌸 // success #🎫 // aymeric cassel #aymeric cassel x gn reader #aymeric cassel x reader

[cp2077thotsociety]

*sets down two fresh chapters of a very stale fic, runs awayyyyyy*

(Toetentanz will forever be the blood rave for me and I will fight you about it)

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077thotsociety #cp2077 #cyberpunk2077 #dum dum #fanfiction #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk maelstrom #borgs #metal toaster chicken husband #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk dum dum

[bnbc]

Kou got some gigs as cyber-santa this year xD

Here is a short read about one of them Goro/fem!V, ~~1k, M-rated

#cyberpunk 2077 #fem v #oc koulin #female v #gigilpunk #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk oc #street kid v #goro takemura #v x takemura #otp: artificial nocturne #takemura x v #takemura #shippy everyday #takemura goro #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #fem v friday #gigilpunk: fics

[aggravateddurian]

The President's Lady | Chapter 3: Lunch

Myers has Vega and Reed over for lunch. Myers demonstrates her interest in Vega exceeds the purely professional…

THINGS ARE HEATING UP!

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #rosalind myers #president rosalind myers #madame president #myers x v #oc: vega 'v' hawse #cp2077 au: chorus timelines #cp2077 au: the president's lady #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #milfguard #wlw ships #the tower

[elvenbeard]

10!

10 - Write about your ship helping each other get ready for the day in the morning. Thanks so much for asking!!! 💜 Aaahhh I love this one, literally made art of them getting ready in the morning together before :DD So this is loosely based on this, or rather, a continuation of it on another morning :D

Morning Routine

“C’mon, time to get up,” V said quietly, fingers trailing down Kerry’s spine. Kerry buried his face in the pillow again.

“Just 5 more minutes,” he muttered, the hangover of the previous night heavy in his skull and bones.

“You said that five minutes ago,” V chuckled.

“Mhhh, highly doubt it’s been five minutes.”

Without any warning Kerry received a well-placed smack on his naked ass. He gasped, in surprise more than in pain, even though his skin tingled and felt hot after a couple of seconds. He sat up only just enough to be able to see V’s face, sporting a big shit-eating grin.

“Hey… that’s my fuckin’ job!” he said with played offense after the initial shock had worn off. He tried to get V back, but he was too slow. V had already rolled out of bed and stood in the middle of his apartment now, the morning sun engulfing him in all his naked glory.

“Catch me… if you can,” he lilted to the tune of “Off the Leash”, and before Kerry could do or say anything, V wandered off towards the bathroom, a little swing in his step.

“Fuck,” was all that Kerry managed to whisper, frozen and staring into the empty apartment living room. His head and chest were flooded by too many emotions all at once, he struggled to cope. A few weeks ago, he hadn’t been sure if he was still capable of ever feeling anything at all anymore. And now…

The shower started running, and Kerry could hear V still quietly humming, a tease and an invitation all the same. One he neither wanted to nor would resist any longer.

“Mind if I borrow your eyeliner again?” he asked as they stood in front of the small sink together shortly after, and V grinned as he ran his fingers through his hair to bring it into its usual bold shape.

“Sure, make yourself at home,” he smiled, voice and eyes gentle.

Kerry reached over to where he knew V kept the thin black pencil. It probably cost a mere fraction of the one he had back at his house – brand deal gift, not even something he’d bought himself. But it created the same results and was a little less scratchy even. Or maybe he only imagined it because it was V’s.

Lately, even though he’d been trying to fight the feeling, everything to do with V made his world a little brighter again. Every little thing he did or said, how he touched him, looked at him, even now as their eyes met in the mirror – it scared the shit out of Kerry. How well they clicked and could exist side-by-side in this crammed little bathroom, just as an example, without getting in the other’s way, taking up too much space, after having known the other for less than a month. Their movements matched perfectly, flowing into each other, V’s hand on his waist as he shuffled past him to grab a towel, how he instinctively moved back when Kerry reached for something on the other side of the countertop without having to stop what he was doing.

It scared Kerry how much he liked V, how large of a part of his life he’d become already. Especially because they both knew that it might as well end very suddenly and without a proper chance to say goodbye.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” V asked, as if he knew Kerry’s thoughts were spiraling.

“Nothin’ in particular,” Kerry lied and put the pencil back down, “No, not true, actually… Wonderin’ how you survived here this long without a decent coffeeshop close by.”

V chuckled.

“No, really, a whole fuckin’ Megabuilding, and no Caliente’s?”

“Maybe the license was too expensive for the poor, poor administration,” V shrugged and took a step back as he put a decent amount of hairspray on his head. Kerry leaned back against the sink.

“Maybe it’s just to wear ya down even more,” he said, “Y’know, make you complacent to just keep payin’ your over-priced rent like a good citizen.”

V snickered and put the can of hairspray back down and checked himself out in the mirror once more. Then he leaned onto the sink as well and looked at Kerry.

“It’s not so bad,” he said, but Kerry shook his head.

“Ah, tryin’ to convince yourself, huh? That won’t work,” he laughed. As he tried to pass him by, V held him back briefly by the wrist and pulled him closer, in the most literal way Kerry had ever experienced it stealing a little kiss from him.

“I can be very convincing,” V said, voice low.

“I know,” Kerry replied with a wink and trailed off towards the couch where he’d left his clothes the previous night. He began to put on his pants and looked out of the window.

“That one over there,” he said, nodding to the penthouse visible across the street, “That one’s ‘not so bad’.”

V stepped closer and followed Kerry’s gaze.

“Yeah,” he said, “And also way outta my price range at the moment.”

“At the moment,” Kerry nodded, slipped into his shoes, then grabbed his t-shirt, “Y’know… I got some contacts in real estate. Could get you a good deal, possibly. Or, dunno. Throw in a couple bucks myself if you wanted to... in exchange for occasional visiting rights or somethin’…”

V smiled, but didn’t respond for a moment, and Kerry feared he’d taken it too far, too soon.

“Or, y’know… Dunno, forget it.”

V still didn’t say anything, and Kerry realized now that it wasn’t because of him.

“Oh… tell me, what’s he got to say?”

“You don’t wanna know,” V shook his head and walked over to his closet, pulling out a dark pair of jeans and a purple button-up shirt, proceeding to put on the pants first and the shirt only loosely.

“Oh, now that’s cruel!” Kerry complained, “Say it! I can take it.”

V sighed, looked for some shoes, then slowly back at Kerry.

“Johnny thinks I’m so lucky that I managed to wrap such a generous sugar daddy ‘round my finger,” he said quietly, “And that I should take your offer.”

“Wow…” Kerry was admittedly taken aback for a moment. Johnny still knew just how to push his buttons to rile him up, hurt him. But even more so, that after 50 years of not having to deal with this kind of bullshit that was more hot air than anything, it still worked so well.

“Sorry, I… shouldn’t’ve,” V muttered and began to button up his shirt. Kerry closed the small distance between them, placed his hands on V’s, to stop him first, then continued where he’d left off.

“Can he hear me now?” he asked, and V nodded slowly, watching Kerry’s hands move along the row of buttons. Kerry leaned in closely, could feel V’s heart beat fast against his fingertips as his hands travelled along his chest. His mouth right at V’s ear he whispered: “Jealous, Silverhand?”

V shivered, then giggled and kissed Kerry’s cheek.

“Think that’s gonna shut him up for a while,” V said, and Kerry hoped he was right. He enjoyed their mornings together too much, he wouldn’t let Johnny taint them, no matter how much of a right he had to be frustrated about this whole situation.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Kerry said and took V’s hand, “Gonna treat ya to the best breakfast menu in all of NC.”

“Oh, I’m so lucky indeed,” V mused and squeezed Kerry’s hand tightly as they quickly exited his apartment and rushed to the elevator in the hopes to make it unseen once more.

#cyberpunk 2077 #cp2077 #cyberpunk fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #kerry eurodyne x v #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk v #male v cyberpunk #cyberpunk kerry #otp: to bad decisions #vincent ezaki #my writing #chevvy-yates #answered asks

[cybervesna]

Here She Comes

I was bothered by Rosalind x Kurt thoughts so I wrote something short. Sorry in advance for any mistakes :')

As the doors closed, a deep breath weighed heavy in the air. That shitty day was over, and with it, a feeling of relief was everything she could think of at the moment. However, her mind quickly became aware of someone else's presence. There in the darkness of the room, stood a large figure of a man lit by the dim light of the only lamp on behind him. 

It was kind of bizarre to her, that him waiting for her is the most familiar thing in this new life. Protocols, rules, duties… Everything is so different than when she was a CEO. But not this, not him. When did she allow him to become the only constant aspect of her life? Though, more important is why Rosalind allowed herself to enjoy it so much. 

As he stood there still, she approached him slowly, like a carnivore hunting its prey. Rosalind knew that her victim had no fear. Quite the opposite, he awaited this with excitement, betrayed by his smug smile barely visible in that light. 

Just inches away, she froze and looked into his Kiroshis. Breathing the same air, like in slow motion their faces lessen the space between each other until their noses brushed slightly one another. They teased themselves for a while, exchanging bold movements, yet refusing to be the ones to catch the bait. 

Two predators forbade to admit which one was hungrier and brushed their lips on the other’s face everywhere but on the lips. 

Somehow, Rosalind started to lose her patience. The sole thought of admitting defeat - of giving him satisfaction, that she missed him harder - was unthinkable. Maybe she was just tired or longed for his touch. Any touch, because it couldn’t be about him, of course. It must been tiredness. 

It took him a moment to notice, that she stopped her movements. So did he, unsure of what was to come. 

In her eyes, a mistake. Moment of weakness that won over her, as her lips pressed against his. She let the heart pounding in her chest, wanting to tear her apart. The desire rose inside her, wanting more, as her lips asked him to join her in this mating dance. 

He didn’t need to be asked twice. Not only did their tongues dance but body joined the ritual, as he wrapped his arms around her petite frame, attracting her closer. 

How long have they been apart? It didn’t matter, why would she even count? After all, it’s not like she missed him every day for thirty-seven days and sixteen hours. It’s not like she craved this so much, she couldn’t think of anything else at the office. And for sure, the idea of them being together again wasn’t the only thing keeping her from going insane. She had more important things to think about this whole time. 

Rosalind wrapped her arms around him and pressed them even harder. She was starving. She wanted to take everything he could give her, and flay off every bit of affection he had towards her. To feast and devour him all. 

And it was yet another weakness, this time shared by both, as they ran out of air. 

Their foreheads met, supporting each other, as swollen lips separated. Eyes locked together, while the symphony of heavy breathing filled their ears. The hunger was not satisfied yet, but the appetizer was enough to give them a moment and acknowledge their situation. 

“Kurt.” She said pressing her nose to his cheek.

If he didn’t know any better by now, he would think it was just a random noise Rosalind made while catching her breath. 

“I missed you, Rosie.”

“I know.” 

#cyberpunk 2077 #kurt hansen #rosalind myers #OTP: American Beauty/American Psycho #phantom liberty #cyberpunk 2077 phantom liberty #colonel hansen #president myers #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #rosalind myers x kurt hansen #fanfiction #my fanficion