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cecedownbad · 3 months

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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…”

#i'm so normal about this game #johnny silverhand #Cyberpunk 2077 #smut

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