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buryustogether · 1 year

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-> THE SHADOWS OF STARS

johnny silverhand x reader (not v)

word count: 8.5k

summary: despite being the newest groupie for samurai, you work hard to pull more than your weight and ensure gigs run smoothly. after a run in with a crazed fan goes awry, johnny silverhand offers you a bit of comfort.

warnings/tags: pre-relic johnny, reader is not v, violence, blood, age gap romance, non-penetrative sex, first kiss, first time, virgin!reader, mention of arranged marriage and running away, smut, swearing, alcohol consumption

author’s note: he may be a bit ooc but he’s my dreamboat so

If you’d have known how the night would have ended, you would have done things differently. You would have said more, said less, perhaps. Stepped further left, taken two more paces back. Anything and everything, you would have done differently.

Anything and everything would have been for nought - because the end of the night transported you to the stars invisible above your head, and beyond the crescent moon hanging from a weathered thread. You hadn’t known you could go that high - and you owed the jump to none other than Johnny fucking Silverhand.

It started with a woman - of course, that’s what all the old-world love stories say. But this woman wasn’t a princess waiting for a king to come down from his tower and save her and make her his; she was a plastered drunk with ugly-as-all-hell bangs on her forehead and a tank top so thin and skimpy her tits would have hung out even if she tried to keep them covered.

You had been watching her from the corner of your eye the entire show from your little perch beside the stage, headphones clasped over your ears and a tablet with the set list in hand. From the shadows, because that’s all you were, really in comparison to them, you had tracked her as she downed drink after drink and got closer and closer to the edge of the stage. Of course she was decked out in their merch - hell, everyone here was, but there were hearts inked onto the Samurai logo across her chest. Just what this gig needed - a crazy-ass fan hammered out of her mind.

It was when she’d disappeared to get herself another shot when you’d allowed yourself a glance up to the stage on your right. Christ above, they were so fucking cool. You didn’t care if that made you sound like an awestruck teenager; they were the only words you could conjure up at the moment. You’d never been one for poetics.

A band of rough and rowdy outcasts, torn at the edges in all the right places and ragged at the ends, they stuck out in a city like this. Especially the guitarist; god, you’d had a massive schoolgirl crush on Johnny Silverhand since you were sixteen and had first discovered their music. He was everything you found enticing; attractive, but without the superficial glamour Night City was held under; charismatic, charming, confident; maybe a bit full of himself, which you had discovered after being pulled into their crew as the newest groupie, but it didn’t phase you as much as you thought it would.

Your younger self would have fainted if she knew you were a groupie for Samurai these days. You were new - the youngest by far they’d ever taken on, but god above knew you pulled more weight than the older assistants who’d gotten used to the feeling of trailing in the shadows of stars. You stayed late into the night and early into the morning to clean up and pack after gigs, set up arrangements for desirable venues, arrived early to prepare so they only had to get up there and sing. Hell, you even cleaned their instruments when you had the time; you’d restrung Silverhand’s prized guitar enough times to have the same calluses on your fingers as his.

Of course, it had taken a snapped string, a sweat-inducing dash to the nearest music store, and an approaching meeting with a business partner for him to give it up to be repaired by someone else than him. Eurodyne had certainly had a hand in convincing him to part with the damned thing; he’d given you an appreciative nod and a charming wink when Silverhand had left his case at your little station.

Back in the present, you found your gaze pulled from your set list to watch as Silverhand kicked up a foot on a speaker to twist out a solo that left goosebumps trailing along your skin. Below him, fans hollered and screamed their approval; his lips quirked up in that Cheshire grin of his, the crinkle of his eyes hidden behind his aviators. You swallowed thick. Despite working for Samurai for nearly a month now, you’d never spoken to Silverhand once. He’d never even glanced in your direction, too caught up in his own business or too distracted by fans to pay you much mind.

You wondered what his voice would have sounded like feet from you, soft and gentle, instead of strained with his cries as he appeased his crowds.

Your spine straightening, your eyes at once flicked back to the woman you’d been watching as she reappeared at the front of the crowd. She was barely able to keep herself on her platform heels, eyelids drooped and movements sluggish. Your lips twisted themselves into a frown; some hangover she was going to have in the morning. You glanced back down at your tablet for a moment, then back to the chick. At once, your chest thundered.

She was leaning against the wall of the stage, hand outstretched in an attempt to touch Silverhand’s pant leg. He kept his cool - surprisingly - and continued the song as he took a step back so that he stood just out of her reach.

You cast a quick glance around the dim venue. Where the hell was security? The bodyguards you’d hired to keep a perimeter at the stage? You found them; they were both slumped at the bar. Perfect; this night was throwing in all kinds of elements that made for a perfect bomb. The question was - when was it all going to blow?

The rest of the gig, you kept your eye on the rowdy fan, never letting her stray too far from your vision. She paced back and forth about the stage, trying to touch even the boot or pants hem of one of the players. It raised the hair on your neck at end as a hot, lava-like sensation filled your stomach.

Were you… jealous?

God, no, you told yourself as the last song of the set came to a close. You didn’t get jealous of blackout drunks practically sobbing over a couple of rockstars who probably didn’t even know your name. And yet… every time she cried out Silverhand’s name, every time she blew him a kiss, that sensation worsened. It coiled like a serpent in your belly, forcing your jaw to clench and your blood to boil.

Shit. You needed to get a serious grip.

Slowly, as the bar began to clear out and final tabs were paid at the bar, you found yourself in conversation with the owner of the place. You sat at a table and watched as she did the math for the band’s share of the profits of the night, cradling an iced concoction you’d been dying for since you got here. Up on the stage, Silverhand and Eurodyne were speaking in hushed tones, motioning back and forth.

“You know,” said the owner as she tallied up her data, “you seem pretty young to be a manager for those fellas.”

You forced yourself to smile and chuckle softly. “Oh,” you said, “I’m not their manager. I’m actually a groupie. I just, you know, move their things back and forth and hook up their systems for them.”

“You seem to do a lot more than that.” With a flick of her hand, she deposited the eddies into your account; a moment later, they showed up on your vision screen. When you got the chance later tonight, you would divide up the earnings between the band, the hired muscle, and yourself. You didn’t think those meatheads had done anything to earn the scrap, but you were terrified to be the one to tell them so.

“I guess someone has to,” you murmured quietly.

“I mean it,” she said. She gave you a gentle, motherly smile, one that made your heart and ache and pang for home. “You’re playing practically every role in this little game of theirs. Movement, tech, cash flow. And I’d bet they don’t even know your name, do they?”

You felt yourself blanch a little. Casting a glance over toward the rockers, your stomach flipped slightly as Silverhand threw his head back and barked out an echoed laugh. “They do,” you lied.

“Sure, kid.” The woman patted your arm before hopping off her stool and taking your empty glass. “If you’re going to survive a life like that, at least make sure to claim the respect you deserve. You’re not a doormat, girl. Don’t act like one.”

With that she left you to your own clouded thoughts, mind a hell scape of troubles and conflicting wants and needs and desires. You pursed your lips and stared down at your lap. Maybe she was right; maybe you should talk to them. Ask for better pay. Throw in a couple set ideas you’d been saving for the past weeks. Yet as much as you wanted to, the queasy feeling in your belly kept you from advancing too far.

You’d always been an anxious kid; too scared to voice your opinions. Your parents said you were well-behaved. You thought ball of nerves was a better way to phrase it.

You had just begun to kick off your stool and begin the tedious task of packing up the equipment when a flash of movement caught your eye. That woman - the one who had tried to touch the band on the stage - was jittering across the floor toward Silverhand and Eurodyne as they made their way to the backstage entrance. Her tits swayed as she bounced in their direction, feet dragging in her drunken state.

Fuck - some people just didn’t know when to quit, did they?

Feeling that simmering boil arise in your chest again, you quickly stride across the floor to intercept her aim toward the men. She was just behind them when you reached her, her arm outstretched and palm open to grab a handful of Silverhand’s ass. The serpent in your belly flared.

“Hey.” You grabbed the woman’s wrist in an iron-fisted grip, stopping her fingers just inches from their prize. Her head drunkenly lolled over to glare daggers at you. “No touching, you got it?”

“Get the fuck off me, you fucking kid.” She ripped her hand from your grip, and the numerous rings slid along her fingers scratched along your skin. You refused to flinch at the pain, instead pulling yourself to your full height and clenching your fists. “What the hell’s your problem?”

Your eyes flickered to the door backstage. The men had disappeared, and you felt a short little something burst inside of you. Disappointment? Surely you weren’t thinking they would come to your aid? That Silverhand would tell this bitch to scram and then say, ‘Damn, kid, thanks a lot. Want to come backstage and sign to become our mascot?’ God, you were a fucking idiot.

“Go home before someone knocks you on your ass,” you said, trying to mimic some of things you’d heard street kids say in back alleys. “I’d hate for your lipgloss to smear any further.”

“And who the fuck do you think you are?” Now she was angry. Getting up in your face. And you were alone - the venue owner had vanished, and the band was backstage. You suddenly wished you knew how to mind your own business. “You know where you are? This is fucking Heywood. Lose an eye for saying something like that.” She sniffed and looked you up and down. God, those bangs were ugly as all hell. “What are you, sixteen? You better run home to mommy before you get smacked.”

To your dismay, and fury, and horrified embarrassment, you felt tears beginning to pool in your eyes. You could count on your fingers the number of times someone had yelled at you like this, and each and every one still made your heart thunder like a drum. You weren’t cut out for this kind of shit; you should have taken her advice and run home, begged your parents’ forgiveness.

But suddenly the owner’s words were resurfacing in your mind.

You’re not a doormat, girl. Don’t act like one.

Gathering what little courage hadn’t dwindled away, you squared your jaw and said, “Get out and don’t come back, or I’ll call the pol-“

You weren’t able to get anything else out before suddenly a fierce, solid fist connected with the side of your face. You went sprawling, sending a table a a stool clattering into their sides, your hands clutching at your nose. Hot, tangy copper flooded down from your nostril, dripping onto your shirt and staining your palms. Holy fuck - she’d just punched you. You’d never been struck before - is this what it actually felt like? Your nose throbbing, your eye aching in its socket, your lips open as you gasped for breath?

Vaguely, through the blood pumping in your ears, you felt the woman kick your foot and scoff before the door swung shut behind her. You were left in silence, still in place where you lay propped on your elbow on the floor, with nothing but the scarlet falling from your nose and a painful watering eye.

With a coarse gasp, you sat up. Your head pounded like someone had delivered a bullet to your temple and it had come out through your jaw. Now that they weren’t being held back, tears cascaded down your cheeks freely and fell from your chin. You touched your nose, the skin around your eye, and let out a small sob as the pain flared through your skull.

Your attention was pulled from your attack to the backstage door, where a peel of laughter reached your ears. The band - you could ask them for help. Explain what happened. They could clean you up, take you to a ripper doc to make sure everything was still intact.

“Fuck, no,” you whispered to yourself. You’d eat lead before you let them see you like this; before they realized that, shit, you may have had your nineteenth birthday a few months ago, but goddamit, you still were just a snotty-nosed kid who needed her hand held when things got rough on the playground. They couldn’t know that. No one could.

You felt yourself rising, using the bottom of your shirt to gingerly wipe off the excess blood on your face. You needed to pack up. Load the equipment into the truck. Call the venue for tomorrow’s gig and make sure the show was still on.

Then you would wander, see if any rippers were still open. And if there wasn’t, well… you’d just have to deal with it.

Your mother’s words rang in your ears, still as sharp as a razor as they were when you left home. “No one’s going to take care of you out there,” she had said. “No one will help you. No one will care about you. No one will love you. You’re going to be all by yourself.”

Fuck it - you didn’t need any help. You didn’t need anyone to take care of you, to love you. You’d do it all yourself.

The pain was too much to acknowledge that was a lie.

It wasn’t but a half hour later that you were winding up speaker cords and wrapping them in their protective cases, gritting your teeth against the panging ache blossoming from your face. You were nearly done with the front half of the stage, a small tower of equipment stacked behind you and waiting to be dragged to the truck out back. You were already sweating your ass off, not to mention that the scab in your nose kept breaking and bleeding. You were sure you weren’t looking like much of a model.

You exhaled a long, exhausted breath and took a seat on the edge of the stage. Your toes barely touched the ground. Head bowed, you fisted the material of your blood-stained shirt and bit your lip to keep a fresh wave of tears at bay. You failed; they escaped, trailing down your cheeks like twin rivers.

What the hell were you doing? You were miles from home, miles from anything you knew. You’d had a life, a future planned out for you. Money. Comfort. Everything you didn’t have now. And you’d run away from it all.

“Hey, kid,” said a voice from further down the stage. “You seen my pick around here? Dropped the fucker after the show.”

Oh, holy fuck. Johnny Silverhand was speaking to you - and you were sitting here crying about being smacked around once or twice.

You cleared your throat once, twice, that the same time turning away quickly and pawing away the tears clinging to your cheeks. “Uhm, yeah.” Keeping your face turned from him, because frankly, you couldn’t take one more thing going wrong tonight, you fished out the obsidian-colored guitar pick you’d found on the stage while packing up. You had planned on leaving it beside his case when he and the others went out for a drink like they always did; it had been burning a hole in your pocket since you’d stuck it there, knowing it was the very pick he often stuck between his teeth after songs.

You held it out in his direction, refusing to let him see your tear-streaked face. He took it from your outstretched palm with his cybernetic hand, the metal fingers clicking together as he accepted it. You began to pull your hand back before suddenly those metal fingers were wrapped around your wrist, keeping your palm turned upward.

“You cut yourself or something?” he asked. He was looking at the blood you’d wiped off with your hand; fuck. Couldn’t you do anything?

Sniffling again, you pulled your hand away a little more forcefully than you meant to and cradled it in your stomach. “Yeah,” you murmured quietly, but you knew he heard you. Your voice echoed here in the empty building. “I’m fine. Sorry for worrying you, Mister Silverhand.”

To your surprise, he released a mumble from the back of his throat as he came closer and settled himself on the edge of the stage beside you. You immediately stiffened, your wide eyes trained like a magnet to an empty spot in the corner. “Christ, kid, I’m not that old. Johnny’s fine, as long as my hair’s not grey and I can still piss on my own.”

You listened as he lit up a cigarette, the lip of his lighter clasping shut before he tucked it back into his pocket. Was this actually happening? Was Johnny fucking Silverhand actually sitting down with you? Maybe that chick had knocked you clean out after all.

“You’re the new one, aren’t you?” Johnny asked as he took a drag of his smoke. He said your name, and your heart sprang like a bird screaming to be free of its cage. He did know your name. “What do you think of this shitshow? Not exactly what you expected, right?”

You reached up to wipe your nose - and quickly hid your hand when you brushed off a fresh swatch of blood. “I don’t think it’s a shitshow,” you admitted in a shy voice. You sniffed. “I think it’s great. I think you all are.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw him tilt his wrist - he was offering you a drag of his smoke. You stared at it for a moment before gingerly taking it and holding it like a joint; you felt his gaze on you, you could see the edge of his faint smirk. Obviously you weren’t holding it right. Nevertheless, you hesitantly brought it to your lips. How bad could one drag be?

As soon as the smoke tumbled down your throat and into your lungs, you pitched forward and hacked out a number of dry coughs. It felt like ash was steamrolling down your spine, tasted like a bad dream you couldn’t wake from. You felt like you were going to be sick.

Beside you, his feet crossed at the ankles, Johnny gave that deep, drawling laugh you’d heard time and time again - and had practically fallen for - and took back his cigarette. “First smoke, kid?” You heard the smile in his voice as he placed it back between his lips. “When you throw up, just don’t do it here.”

You raised your hand to cover your mouth, your bleeding nose, but you were too late. You bent your head and coughed into your lap - with enough force to send a spattering few droplets across the tops of your thighs. Your hands scrabbled to wipe them away, but the man beside you was quicker.

“Jesus,” he said, all traces of amusement wiped like a slate from his voice. “Didn’t think it’d kill you.”

“Sorry,” you gasped.

There came a short, yet stifling moment of stillness, of silence. It felt as if the world had gone still, had come to a stop on its axel or the spinner or whatever the hell it rotated on. If it even did anymore.

But then it all came back full force, like a slap to the face, like a bullet to the chest. Johnny reached his hand out and grabbed your chin - gently, but commanding; forcefully, but gingerly - and forced you to turn your head and look at him. It was the first time you’d met his eyes since he’d walked into the stage - his aviators were pushed up on his head, his smoke dangling from his lips, his oak-colored eyes hard and steely and rough to disguise the shock lying beneath them.

“Fuck me.” He tilted your head slightly, his gaze traveling over your face. “Someone do this to you, kid?”

You felt as though you couldn’t speak. Even if you wanted to, you just couldn’t. His artificial fingers were cool against your flushed skin, his grip harsh but forgiving all at once. Fireworks were exploding across your face where he touched you, rendering you speechless. Did he… actually care? Give a shit you’d taken a clock to the skull?

When you didn’t answer, his fingers tightened slightly on your jaw. Your eyes found his again, lips parted and heart skipping beats. “Hey,” he said more firmly, then pulled his cigarette from his lips with his free hand. “Who did this shit to you, huh?”

Ignoring the thrumming and singing and screaming of your heart, you swallowed thick and averted your gaze. “No one,” you replied. When his grip didn’t let up, you finally caved. “Just… just a fan, a little bit ago. She was, uh…” You hesitated. “She was trying to catch a grope of you, so I stopped her. Guess I caught it instead.”

Your small, forceful chuckle wasn’t met with the kind of response you were hoping for; maybe a laugh, or at least a tug at the corner of the lips. But it did not happen. Instead, you were met with a stony glare. A hard gaze. A deeply-set frown that bordered on a scowl.

You became suddenly and deeply intimated of Johnny Silverhand, aware now of the tight grip he had on your jaw and how close he was to your face. You bowed your head to the side, and he at last let you go. “Sorry to ruin the after party,” you murmured, then swallowed thick and hopped off the stage. “I’m fine, really. I just need to finish packing up and I’ll get out of here.”

Attempting to hide the flush in your cheeks and the hammering of your heart in your chest, you bent over to gather up a speaker in your arms. When you stood straight again, you found Johnny standing just feet before you, his aviators clutched tight in his grip at his side.

“I’m not fuckin’ with you here, kid,” he said, bringing his face close again. You felt your knuckles paling around the speaker, clutching it tight to your chest. His hair framed his face in a darkened curtain, the stubble on his cheek pronounced in the dim lightning. “Nobody fucks with my band without feeling it later. You know what this bitch looks like?”

“There really isn’t a need for more violence.” Eyes down, head bowed, you shifted the speaker’s weight in your arms. You tried not to dwell on the sensation that arose in the pit of your belly over being included in his band. “I just want it to be over with.”

Johnny watched as you set down your load, reaching up to wipe at your bloody nostril. As he crossed his arms, his foot began to tap gently - a sign of agitation you’d come to recognize. “Fuck all, kid,” he rumbled, then pulled the bandanna from his back pocket and tossed it to you. Raising the cloth to you nose, you tried not to inhale deeply as his scent overpowered you. “If you’re not going down that road, you at least got liquor at your place to soften the blow that shiner’s going to give you tomorrow?”

You clenched your jaw, wrapped your free tightly over your chest. The blood from your nose was stained into the fabric of the bandana; your grip tightened around it. You murmured a soft reply.

Johnny cocked his head, hands planted on his hips. “Speak up, kid. Use that voice of yours like it’s meant to be used.”

“I live in my car,” you said again, louder, then immediately cleared your throat and began to drag a box toward the door. “Listen, uhm… Johnny, I appreciate it, but I really need to finish packing -“

“Fuck packing.” Johnny crossed the small distance you’d put between the pair of you, stopping so close you felt his breath fanning across your face. “Let those other dickwipes pull their weight for once.”

Your gaze tried to avert itself again, but something within the hallows of your chest forced your eyes to stay trained on his. Were those flecks of hazel in the brown of his irises? You blinked a few times; you’d never been this close to him before. Hell - you’d never been this close to a man before at all.

“I…” You hesitated, gripping the bandana so tightly you were sure you were about to tear it in two. “I didn’t think you cared so much.”

“I told you, kid,” he said, then reached up to grab your shoulder. Explosions; fireworks; detonations where he touched you. “I take care of my band.”

And that was how you found yourself holding an ice pack to your face in Johnny Silverhand’s apartment in Pacifica, with the night sky and the stars taking up the space between peering in on you from the windows across the room.

You brought a small glass of liquor to your lips as you took in the living space; it was quaint, but not a shitty little hole in the wall either. You knew he didn’t care for aesthetics or shows; he was a man of practicality. Whatever served him well - pretty or not - he kept around.

Maybe that was why you’d lasted this long so far tailing the band as their little runt groupie.

You shifted slightly in your seat on the couch, pulling the pack slowly from your face. A television was set against the far wall, where the news station spewed some commercial for the latest body mod people were just ‘dying for!’ Clothes lay discarded around the bed set in the alcove in the corner, and a trio of electric guitars stood by dutifully in the corner amongst a mountain of expensive speakers and stereoes. Mounted on the wall were half a dozen framed magazine covers that featured Samurai - and a few were only his face occupied the page. Photoshoots, interviews, covers… he had it all done and displayed.

The star himself stood at the miniature bar pouring himself a few fingers of vodka, hair tied up in a half knot at the crown of his head. He set the bottle down and crossed the room to take a seat on the opposite side of the couch, then kicked up his feet on the coffee table and crossed them at the ankle.

“So tell me,” said Johnny and sipped at his liquor. He extended an arm across the back of the couch, his fingers just a few inches from your head. “How’s a kid like you end up in this shit city? You certainly aren’t built to be a street kid, so you didn’t grow up here.”

Consciously, you reached up to touch the area around your eye. You’d used the bathroom when you first arrived here to clean the blood off your face, but the black eye steadily blossoming across your skin wasn’t going to wash away as easily. As if you didn’t already feel bad enough; you were sitting on fucking Johnny Silverhand’s couch in a bloodstained shirt and the confession off your lips that you lived in your damn car.

When he tilted his head to look at you expectantly, you felt your throat run dry. You knew how he - hell, how most of the street kids in Night City - felt about where you came from. Surely you didn’t have to tell him the entire truth. Besides - even if you lied, you were expecting him to come to his senses any time now and tell you, his month-new groupie, to get out of his house and scram.

“Well,” you said and gingerly placed the ice pack on the side table, “I guess you’re sort of right. My family was pretty… well-to-do. I grew up on the top floors of the snottiest buildings -“

“You used to be a corpo kid.”

Your blood ran cold in your veins. Fuck; this was it. Your run with Samurai was over. With any band, really. Surely word would spread you were a corpo brat trying to slum it as a street kid.

Johnny shrugged a shoulder and brought up his glass to take another sip. “You don’t hide it well, kid,” he told you bluntly. “The way you talk, walk, hold yourself. You reek of that high-brow lifestyle, no offense.” The corner of his lips quirked slightly. “But surely mom and dad didn’t drop their precious little darling on the street, now, did they?”

You couldn’t stop the zipping, electric sensation that pinged off the walls of your chest. “Not exactly.” You finished off your drink and set it aside, eyes focused on the corner of the television. You had no idea what the anchor was talking about; you didn’t really want to know. “My parents are oil investors. Old money types - they both came from countryside mansions and absent fathers - heh.” You smiled slightly to yourself. “They always told me I was a, as they called it, ‘soft soul.’ In their native tongue, that means weak. Not able to make those cutthroat decisions, you know? I don’t think they ever planned on including the stocks and the oil fields in their inheritance, so they went off and found the son of another tycoon who they could give it to.”

“Holy fuck,” said Johnny and lifted a stunned brow. “You’re telling me they arranged a marriage for you and this asshole?”

“They tried, I guess.” You hesitated, hand fidgeting with a stray loose end on your shirt. “I told them I’d rather splatter my brains on the wall - and they told me I could either do it their way, or leave and not come back at all.” You turned your head and gave him a wry, tight-lipped smile. “So I haven’t gone back.”

Johnny hissed out a breath through his teeth and tossed back the rest of his vodka. “You’ve got balls, kid, I’ll give you that,” he said and set aside his glass. “NC’s sure one hell of a place to hit the ground running.”

“Mm.” Maybe it was the liquor in your systems talking; or maybe it was the fact that slowly, as the evening went on, you were becoming more and more comfortable around him. “When I was younger, I heard your music for the first time and I just couldn’t get enough of it. My parents fucking hated it - tried to take away my vinyls, block the streaming websites, but I always found a way to keep listening. I guess… it was the only way I felt I could rebel.

“I got dragged to parties to be seen and not heard; I was given piano lessons at five, and when those didn’t stick, they put me in sports. They always wanted me to be some, I don’t know, incredible prodigy. Like I needed to be amazing to call myself their daughter. And I guess when they realized I wasn’t anything to be proud of, they just gave up.”

As soon as you shut your mouth, you regretted what you had said. When you’d left home, you had vowed to leave your past in the past. What the hell were you doing?

But then Johnny was barking out one of those laughs of his as he rolled his head back against the couch cushion. “Oh, come on,” he said and eyed you incredulously. “Nothing? You can handle your way around eddie negotiations - you sure they didn’t try to shape you into a corpo biz manager?”

“Believe me,” you said, finding yourself snickering along with him. “They tried everything. Nothing I ever did was good enough for them.” A loosened giggle escaped your lips as you gestured vaguely around the apartment. “Hell, I think they’d keel over and kick it if they knew I was at Johnny Silverhand’s place - the most infamous rockstar in Night City.”

He smirked coyly. “What?” he said and scratched at his throat. His eyes stayed trained on yours as you watched his tattoos move with his ministrations. “Your old man doesn’t like bad boys and tech fuckers?”

“Especially.”

There was another one of those still, silent moments between the pair of you, like the string attached to your fingers had pulled taunt. The television played quietly across the room. Car horns blared and wailed outside. Your gazes were locked together, unable to pull apart even if you wanted to.

Then he was moving. Pulling his feet off the table, standing to his full height. Stepping closer - resting a silver hand on the couch arm beside you and the other on the back near your head. Your breath hitched in your throat as he leaned over you, enveloping you against him and his ow shadow.

“Listen, kid,” he said, and you realized his voice had dropped a baritone. In the pit of your belly there came a fluttering, one that traveled further, lower, straight to your core. “I might be getting some off vibes here, but I’m not going to be a pussy and say I wouldn’t be disappointed if I was.” You felt your breath slam from your lungs as he leaned closer, closer, and dragged his tongue along the short expanse of your cheekbone; you swore your heart stopped. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think there’s a thanks in order for saving my ass earlier.”

Ice - your blood had frozen and turned to ice beneath your skin. Did he know you were holding your breath? Did he know you’d never been this close to anyone like this? Did he know you’d never kissed before, never fucked or gotten fucked or known what real, true devotion felt like?

After what seemed an eternity - a forever of him staring at you from inches away, awaiting your green light to advance - you at last found your voice. “I didn’t do it in exchange for this.”

“Yeah,” he said, “but let me spoil you, sweetheart.”

Then his lips were melded to yours, and your mind, your senses, your body - they all burst red and green and purple and every color across the spectrum you didn’t even know existed. His knees came to rest on either side of your legs and he bent down, so that he hovered over you and you stretched up in order to keep your mouths connected. His kiss was rough and demanding, the reins held tight in his hands, and he took up every last gasp of breath you had left in your lungs.

He pulled back for a quick inhale, leaving you shell shocked, but only for a moment before he was pushing his lips back against yours. “Fuck, honey,” he slurred between deep, passionate kisses, “you taste even fucking better than I thought.”

When his mouth moved down to the column of your throat, his touch anchoring your hips down beneath him, you realized this wasn’t supposed to be a one-man show. Your movements felt foreign, unknown, as you brought one hand to thread through his hair and the other to cradle the back of his neck. His tresses slipped through your fingers like feathers or silk or some other poetic shit - you didn’t care enough to think of the right metaphor.

Johnny found a spot on your skin where your neck met your shoulder, his hand moving your shirt collar out of the way, and attached his mouth to that area. He sucked and pulled at your vulnerable throat, using his sharp teeth to gently bite at the skin. You gasped aloud, your grip in his hair tightening, as he licked at the place he’d bitten, almost like apologizing or making up for the pleasurable pain.

And fuck, was it pleasurable. With every moment that ticked by with his mouth lavishing your neck, with his touch roaming across the planes of your body, you felt yourself growing wetter. Your belly was flip-flopping with nerves and excitement, your core suddenly aching from the attention you were receiving. And, if you shifted your hips just right, you felt the growing erection in his pants pressing against your thigh. You gave a hesitant, experimental buck of your hips against his - and your heart leaped when he pulled off your throat to groan low and gravelly into your collarbone.

“Oh, fuck, sweetheart,” Johnny growled as he sat up. He peered down at you with blown pupils and an almost animalistic gaze, his hands working the clasps and buckles of his bulletproof vest. “Keep playing games like that and you might get your prize sooner than you expect it.” At last, he lifted the vest over his head - and you didn’t stop yourself from staring. His stomach was a flat plane of muscle, riddled near the hip and the pec with a few puckered scars. His dog tags clinked against his chest, hanging like ornaments over the line of hair that began at his belly button and became thicker as it disappeared beneath his waistband.

“Impressed?” he crooned, drawing your eyes back up to his.

You felt yourself smiling, albeit a bit nervously, and slowly reaching out to touch his abdomen. “Maybe,” you murmured. Your fingers trailed over his chest, his nipples, his belly. His muscles flexed under your touch, and every few moments he let his head fall back and released a low-throated moans. They sent shivers up your spine and an ache down to your core, clenching around nothing.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Johnny said, coming to his senses and hooking his fingers beneath the hem of your shirt. “I can’t exactly do this the right way if I’m the only one playing skins.”

Your nerves jumped wildly as he began to pull up your shirt; you partially lifted yourself to aid him, but as the fabric began to clear your breasts, you felt your blood spiking. “Wait!” You grabbed his wrist, halting him in place. “Wait, Johnny, wait.”

Obediently, he paused where he was. He peered down at you questioningly, searching for a sign of whatever he’d done wrong. “Don’t get cold feet on me now, kid,” he drawled gently.

“No,” you said quickly, and you panicked because he looked like he was going to pull away, so you surged forward and kissed him hungrily. He gave a muffled grunt of surprise, but returned it nonetheless. When you finally leaned back again, you knew your face was flushed; how attractive you must have looked, with a violent blush and a black eye coming in. “I want to, Johnny, I really do. More than…” You shook your head slightly. “More than I think I’ve ever wanted anything?”

“More than you want to tell those fucking parents of yours where to shove it?”

A nervous, wobbly smile wound over your lips. “Yeah,” you replied. “More than that. But…” You swallowed thick and averted your gaze, letting your eyes fixate instead on his dog tags. “I, uhm… I haven’t exactly… done this before. At all.”

“Hmm.” It was all he said for a long, quiet moment. You could tell he was staring at you, but you didn’t want to know if his gaze was full of reproach or unease - or the wild, suddenly feral look some men got around virgins. He shifted his weight atop you slightly. He spoke again. “You’ve at least cum before, haven’t you? Used one of those toys you women like so much?”

For a fraction of a second, you realized the gravity of it all - you were lying beneath Johnny Silverhand, talking about your previous use of sex toys. But before you could begin to register the situation, you said, “I mean, I’ve used vibrators before. I didn’t ever… didn’t ever orgasm on those. It just wasn’t enough. And my mom always said I didn’t want to lose my virginity to a piece of silicone. So…” You gently tightened the grip you had on his wrist. “No. I haven’t. I didn’t… I hadn’t even kissed anyone before this.”

“Fuck me, kid.”

You waited for him to roll off you, to tell you that you were a nice kid, but he suddenly wasn’t feeling well. It seemed forever. Then, that feeling - that sensation that was growing familiar - of his metal fingers on your chin drew your attention back up to his face. He was gazing down at you with a look so understanding, yet so teasing and coy it seemed as though the painter who had sculpted his features changed his mind half way through.

“If I’d known that was your first,” he rumbled to you, “I’d have made sure to bite.”

With that he dipped down to recapture your lips, his artificial hand coming up to cradle your cheek affectionately. A tidal wave of relief flooded through your systems as you reached up to tangle your hands in his hair again, your body beginning to act on its own accord. Your leg twisted around his to pull his hips closer to yours, and you felt his erection bump against the apex of your thighs. You both groaned into one another’s mouths, sharing breaths and panting into throats.

“Hang on,” he ordered you, and once you had locked your legs around his waist, he braced you against him and hauled you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. He continued to bite at your lips and shove his tongue into your mouth as he carried you toward the bed.

When your back hit the mattress, he pulled you further up toward the pillows and crawled over your form. “I’ve got an idea,” he drawled, nipping at your throat. When you made a noise of acknowledgement, he slowly began to undo the button of your trousers. “We’ll save the fucking for the next time. Tonight we’ll stick with basics - swear it’ll feel just as fucking good.”

You felt your heart rate pick up like a methodical tick. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, nails digging into his bare skin. “The next time?” you murmured, dammit, hopefully. You knew Johnny Silverhand was a womanizer, that a different girl fell into his arms every other night. A part of you felt stupid for hoping this would be different; now you weren’t feeling quite as foolish.

Johnny smirked down at you, his hair curtaining you both. “What?” he said. “Thinking this was going to be a one-time thing?”

“Well…”

“Let me tell you something, sweetheart.” He pressed his forehead to yours, his human hand trailing down to the space between your thighs. A small squeak escaped your lips, one that melted into a moan, when he pressed his thumb down on your trousers right above your clit. “I’d be fucking stupid to find a little thing like you and let you go.”

You hitched out a gasp. “Let me go?”

“Oh, yeah, baby.” He inched down until he was level with your exposed belly, then licked a stripe up to where your shirt was bunched just below your breasts. “You’re all mine now.”

Your world was flipped on its head, like you were watching the scene play out from above instead of from your own eyes. Johnny helped you pull off your shirt, and then your bra, and you finally let yourself moan unabashedly when he pulled the peaks of each breast into his mouth. Then he removed your pants, and your panties, and then he had practically picked you up and pulled you into a position that had your core aching like never before.

Johnny sat his back to the headboard with you seated between his legs so that your shoulder blades laid flat against his bare chest. He’d hooked his ankles around yours when your legs spread, keeping them apart and open for his touch that was slowly, torturously making its way down your body.

“Johnny,” you moaned as his metal hand cupped your breast, alternating between kneading and pinching the nipple. His warm, human hand was dragging his fingers over the tops of your naked thighs, occasionally dipping between them, but never where you needed him the most. “Johnny, please…”

“Ooh, my poor thing sounds so good when she cries for me,” he chuckled in your ear from behind. His voice was low and came from deep in his chest, sending goosebumps over your flesh. “I bet she’d sound even prettier singing.”

Without warning, his hand dipped toward your center and dragged a finger through your wet folds. In reply, as if obeying his command, you released a garbled cry and leaned your head back against his shoulder. Fuck, this was so goddamn good. You’d never known letting someone else touch you like this could feel so fucking amazing.

“That’s right,” growled Johnny, then found your clit and began to rub circles around it. “Cry for me, sweetheart.”

You squeezed your eyes shut in pleasure as he played with the bundle of nerves, your hands gripping onto his thighs for support. Your legs instinctively tried to snap closed, alleviate the heightened need for friction, but his ankles locked around yours kept you from doing so. Feeling your pull against his legs, he quickened the speed of his circles, increased the pressure ever so slightly.

“Oh, fuck!” you whimpered. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, your slick smearing across your thighs. “Oh, shit, Johnny. Oh, my god, please don’t stop.” Quickly becoming overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and sensation, your body began to react on its own. You squirmed in his grasp, hips attempting to buck and feet kicking. There was a sort of coiling feeling building in your abdomen, like a pressure from within, and your body was chasing after it like it was the sun it had never seen.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” With every buck of your hips, his own chased yours, practically humping up into you from behind.

You couldn’t reply, only whimpered and whined and buried your face into the musky-smelling crook of his neck.

Johnny applied just the smallest bit of more pressure, his free arm wrapped securely around your middle to keep you anchored to him. “Come on, kid,” he whispered against the shell of your ear. “Give it to me. Give me this first one.”

Whatever kind of effect his words had on your systems, it was immediate. That coil in your belly snapped, wound too tight, and your vision tore white as you threw your head back against him. “Oh, god, Johnny! Johnny, fuck!” Your words melted into hoarse cries and moans and gasps. You felt a warmth pooling from your entrance and his fingers gingerly gathering it up; if you had been able to open your eyes, you would have seen him suck your release off his own fingers and smirk to himself in satisfaction.

For a long, quiet few minutes, you simply sat there between his legs, feeling your chest rise and cave as you tried to regain your breath. Behind you, Johnny craned his neck to press open-mouthed kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, the jut of your spine. He unhooked his legs from yours, allowing you to draw them together and to your chest as you gripped his thigh with a grip that refused to let go.

“You with me still, kid?” Johnny shifted his weight a bit, then wrangled you until you were sat sideways in his lap and he cradled you against his front.

Your head rested against his bare pec, fingers unconsciously gripping onto the dog tags around his neck. “Mm,” you hummed, because you felt as though you couldn’t form words anymore even if you wanted to. A sudden and powerful tide of exhaustion had washed over you, leaving you feeling hollow and full all at the same time.

“Use that pretty voice of yours,” he insisted and flicked a piece of stray hair from your sweaty forehead. “Tell me you’re alight. That I didn’t go too hard.”

So - because you would do anything for him, after he just did everything for you - you scraped together what was left of your vocal cords and said, “I’m alright.” You skimmed your fingers along his chest, and again, his muscles flexed beneath your touch. “Johnny.”

“Yeah, kid.”

“You won’t…” The next words caught in your throat. You thought of your parents, who had tried to sell you off because they believed you were nothing. You thought of that woman who had clicked you like it was a second nature to her. You thought of your own doubts and fears that taunted you like bad dreams that wouldn’t go away even after you woke up. “You won’t leave me… will you?”

Johnny’s grip around you tightened, and he pet your hair soothingly. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he said, and there was something about his tone that made you believe this wasn’t just a promise to you, but to himself, as well. As if he’d loved and lost before; as if he refused to let this crash and burn, even if it killed him in the end. “I’m never letting you go.”

#cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk x reader #cyberpunk 2077 smut #cyberpunk2077 #cyberpunk johnny #cyberpunk johnny x Reader #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x reader #silverhand x Reader #johnny silverhand smut

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valentine-writes · 8 months

Note

Hello!! I absolutely adore your spot HC!

I was wondering if you could write something pre-collider accident? When he was working for alchemax ^^

I would adore more content about him and reader being coworkers, maybe this is way too self indulgent, but I crave some good enemies/rivals to lovers with this man. I think the dynamic would be so fun ^^

competitive

「 tws + notes: possibly ooc, no tws, unedited, rivals to lovers (which i hope i do justice), pre-collider johnathan ohnn, reader and johnathan are petty,,, can u tell i like writing him mildly bitchy, plz forgive any conflicts w/ canon i researched but im like 99.9% sure there r still errors 」

「 gn!reader, romantic relationship <3 」

↳ ft. johnathan ohnn/the spot

author's note: ouughh i love this sooo much,,, thank u AUDHEWUFHEW o((>ω< ))o !!! im so excited to write more of pre-collider him,, ignore me as i feverishly research every bit of canon info i can get cuz i haven't been able 2 rewatch the movie yet i hope this is to ur liking! enemies to lovers is not my strong suit,, but OHOUWHUDHEWH RIVALS TO LOVERS!!! UNDERUTILIZED!!! might hafta make a part two tho,,, locked in on the rivals part,,, lovers part in progress. ok no more of my rambles

▸ ever since you had arrived at alchemax, you and johnathan just couldn't seem to get along. not a particularly useful thing, considering you both worked for the same research company where teamwork was vital though, you insisted you had no real spite for him, the second you had gotten the job, you just seemed to one-up him in every single way.

every. single. way.

▸ when given a deadline, you'd finish in half the time it took him. when completing research, you have the information compiled when he was just starting to organize his.

hell, you even succeeded in being more proficient socially. how had you made so many friends already?

▸ he had to admit you were terribly charming too– a trait he was particularly envious of– and from the few times he's seen you get coffee with one or two of the other scientists, he knew that everyone seemed to think the same

not like he was paying that much attention to you as he saw you laughing with another coworker through the cafe window. foam party? sounds boring anyways, whatever

▸ he wasn't mad because he was lonely, or saw himself as inferior to you. johnathan had friends and honestly didn't consider himself particularly bad at making them. johnathan knew he was intelligent and that with his work, he could accomplish something big.

no, this problem had nothing to do with him. it was you. besides you, all the things he worked hard for was just second nature.

how annoying.

▸ your sworn rivalry had been one-sided for the longest of time to any witnesses. grumbling under his breath while he passed you, making a great effort to speak curtly with you, and was certainly not beyond intentionally knocking his shoulder into yours when he passed the look you shot at him for doing this was enough to make him wither on the spot– unintentional joke. my bad.

but he knew you were just as competitive as he was. the way you acted just had to be intentional. some of your remarks towards him were too pointed to ignore– your smiles and your friendliness nothing more than keeping it as civil as possible in a workplace setting.

professionalism, masking a deeper intention: to outdo him.

▸ and once you had figured that your feigned innocence would no longer keep you afloat, that's when the true rivalry began. an ambition-fuelled climb to the top to be better than the other.

it manifested more childishly than you two cared to admit.

"you know, chewing on pens isn't great for your enamel." johnathan practically jumps out of his seat, your words effectively snapping him out of his completely focused state.

he grumbles, looking over at you while lowering the pen away from his mouth a habit that i have too... guys look away itz not projecting...

you only shrug your shoulders. "just saying, johnny."

"don't call me that." he retorts, trying not to roll his eyes. "are you here just to bother me with unsolicited comments about my habits and dental advice?"

you laugh and he feels his face heat up in annoyance. you and your stupid laugh. he's heard enough of it around the workplace while you chatted amongst the others. it was a sound he could live without.

"so hostile. we work together, y'know?" you grin. there's a glimmer of amusement in your eyes. you were getting on his nerves and you knew it.

"anyways, i just came to ask if you had a pen i could borrow. preferably not one with teeth marks." the last part is tacked on so briefly that johnathan didn't even have time to be offended about it before he replied.

he looks at you dead in the face. "sorry. i don't have an extra pen on me."

you glance at the completely untouched, unused, ballpoint pen on his desk and then back at him. he says nothing, staring at you silently, before you get the hint decide to go ask someone else.

▸ it gets pettier.

imagine johnathan eying up a coworker, getting all blushy and stumbling over his words around them.

and within a week, you've got their number– and he passes by the two of out in that STUPID FUCKING HIPSTER CAFE GODDAMMIT–

it's not that serious to him. he can move on from a workplace crush. he however, can't move on from the fact you swooped in before he even got a chance. you never care to bring up that on your little coffee date with that person ended up being a disaster– maybe it was for the better they stayed away from him

▸ of course, he was able to outdo you too. his biggest success?

"so," johnathan flinched away, about to walk out the glass doors of alchemax and head home for the day– only to find you with your back leaning against the frame, arms crossed. "heard you got put in charge over something pretty important."

he curses under his breath. "you can't just sneak up on people like that."

"i was literally standing here in plain sight the entire time."

"were you waiting for me or something?" he asks sarcastically. johnathan seems somewhat surprised when you don't respond, awkwardly averting your gaze from him for a moment hm. guess that's a "yes"...

"doesn't matter." you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets. "so... you're working on a portal thingy?"

"i'm one of the people overseeing it, yes." he huffs, trying to answer your questions quickly and just get the hell home. but as you figured, he had all the time in the world when it came to correcting you.

"and– the word portal is inaccurate."

you raise an eyebrow. "yeah?"

"it's a particle accelerator. you should know what that means. the goal of this project is to essentially create a passageway– a bridge, if you will– between two separate dimen–"

"so, a portal." you interrupt.

he glares at you and you swear his eye twitches.

"just wanted to know. congrats, ohnn." you say casually, before exiting out the door.

the next time he sees you, he discovers that head scientist, olivia octavius who just so happens to be fond enough of your work to hear you out when you asked her decided it would be a good idea to have you work on the project as well.

even though johnathan was still technically still ahead of you– he kicked himself for how quickly you were beginning to catch up. you flashed him a grin from your desk as you began to help out on the project– he forced one back through gritted teeth.

▸ after tirelessly working on the project together as a team still trying your very best to outdo one another he figures this feud of yours is getting nowhere.

you've both spent sleepless nights on this project you both equally cared for,, it was time to just give up and be normal coworkers. an odd conclusion for johnathan to reach as a notorious grudge holder. maybe the lack of rest was getting to him, too exhausted to even deal with you anymore. or maybe, he was satisfied where he was right now– on the verge of a huge breakthrough with him being one of the main contributors– he no longer needed the pleasure of being better than you.

"how did you even get this number?" you ask, recognizing his voice through the phone as he greeted you.

"well, funny thing actually. alchemax has all the employee information on files, so i just–"

the realization hits you. "snooped through mine to get my phone number?! you're insane!"

he's desperate to explain, just trying to get to his point without getting a headache from you. "no, no, no– wait, i didn't come to fight or anything–"

"then what do you want, johnathan? a little medal? a trophy or somethin? you're probably getting that anyways after this whole thing– so,, so– what? what is it?!" you snap.

this is the only blatant hostility you've ever shown him. both ends of the call fall silent.

"wow uh– that was a lot." he mumbles awkwardly.

"...'m sorry." the shame makes your ears burn up. it is getting childish. you can't deny it.

he blinks at his phone, before bringing it back up to his ear. "did you just apologize? have i got the right person?"

it's your turn to groan. "are you trying to get me to take it back?"

"no! no, no, no– sorry." he replies quickly, stuttering as he tries to get back on track. "i just wanted to talk...."

the words hang in the air for much longer than needed.

"just spit it out already." you inturrupt.

"we should truce." he blurts out. "you know... maybe we should calm down. start over."

johnathan pauses for a moment, waiting for a reaction from you. you give him absolutely nothing. he takes a deep breath before speaking up again.

"i just thought it'd be better this way. this is getting ridiculous. and i think we're both mature enough to move past it so–"

"no, thank you."

he falters momentarily, processing what you had just said. "i'm– i'm sorry, i think misheard you."

"no, you heard me," you repeat, your smile clear as day in your voice, "no. thank. you."

"i like what we've got going on. keeps me motivated." the sweetness in your tone makes him cringe.

"you can't be serious." he rubs the bridge of his nose, fighting off the urge to lose his mind.

"oh, but i am." you lean into your phone's mic, voice dropping to a whisper. "just give me time. i'll catch up with you eventually."

your stubborness was truly something else.

"nope. can't do this, not today, nope–"

you laugh to yourself, hearing him hang up. you secretly hoped he'd at least keep talking to you a little longer. probably just a result of being a tad sleep deprived too.

▸ the collider is almost finished. ever since the phone call, you and johnathan hadn't talked for days.

and now, there you were, at his desk.

"need a pen?" he asks, looking up at you, expecting you to bother him again.

you shake your head. "actually, i came to ask for something else. i've been thinking about what you said..."

the words catch in your throat. you stare at the ground, the humiliation of what you're about to say causing you to fidget with your hands. he's never seen you like this– timid and anxious in his presence rather than smug and confident. it's a sight that he thought would bring him joy– but he's far beyond that now. instead, he looks at you curiously, not unlike the way he observes specimens.

"go on..." he says, leaning in slightly.

you meet his gaze sheepishly. "yeah. maybe a truce doesn't sound so bad."

he smiles back, cautious but hopeful. "you mean it?"

"this isn't me surrendering." you're quick to say, though your defensiveness falls flat, only causing his smile to fade for a moment. "i'm growing bored of it. we can just move on." it's not what he had in mind– but he'll take it.

"okay. sounds... good?" he replies awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"mhm. so, you still have my phone number, right?"

he freezes. "yes... but– um– i can just delete it from my contacts now if– if you want. that was weird of me to do. really sorry 'bout that. just wanted to talk."

"nah. keep it." you say with a slight shrug of your shoulders. he tilts his head slightly at your reaction.

"i'll text you when work's done so we can grab a coffee or somethin." there's that smile he's grown so familiar with. this time it has no undertones of aggression– something which he finds more unnerving somehow. he can't tell what you're up to.

"i– uh– what–" he stammers.

you await the rejection.

"i mean– sure... but... you want that?" he asks, his tone careful, like he expects this to just be a scheme of yours. never in a million years would he think that you'd want to actually resolve whatever conflict you had going on. much less, spend time with him outside of work.

" i mean, i just offered, didn't i?"

"right– ...so uh– after work then. okay. it's a date."

he mentally kicks himself for the last part. "i– not like– a date, date, but–"

you don't give him time to stumble over his words and make a fool of himself.

"great." you turn to leave, but glance over your shoulder before walking away. "see you later, johnny."

▸ you failed to acknowledge this earlier, and maybe he had too– but over the course of your mutual rivalry, you found that you admired him. his brain, his work, his sheer tenacity– and he admired you too.

perhaps you didn't have to be better than one another.

"here's to new beginnings." you mutter to yourself, shooting him a text while waiting at the cafe.

#atsv #across the spiderverse #UAHWIEJDKSN HEAVY WITH THE RIVALS. little less w/ the lovers part #look they're jus trying 2 b friendz rn #but trust they'll be kissin in no time 🫡‼️#atsv x reader #the spot #the spot atsv #the spot headcanons #the spot x reader #johnathan ohnn #johnathon ohnn headcanons #johnathan ohnn x reader #johnathon ohnn #johnathan ohnn headcanons #johnathon ohnn x reader #4givsies if he is ooc.... trying to figure him out little by little.....#anyways i had more fun with this than i thought i would auwhwhdj i get carried away easily

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broken-clover · 8 months

Text

(Over)Analyzing the Cards in Johnny’s Joker Trick (Part 2)

Part 2 of 2. Here’s the original post for the sake of a more fleshed out explanation and for the Joker/King cards, but to keep it simple this is just for analyzing the cards used for every character in Johnny’s Joker Trick Overdrive to see if there’s any sort of symbolic or spiritual meaning that might be behind the use of that particular card. A lot of this uses cartomancy, which isn’t always as straightforward and clear-cut as something like tarot, but this is jus all in good fun

Queens

Queen of Clubs- Shared between Sol Badguy, Ramlethal Valentine, and Bridget. And, first of all, let’s be real, Sol’s was first and foremost made for the reference. Queen is about 80% of his personality, if they didn’t use a queen card I’m sure he would have come to life and burned down the office. Outside of the Jacks, Sol is the only character who has a card that doesn’t match the character’s gender. Character-wise, Sol and Ram do have a bit of an overlap, being aloof, struggling socially, and having their interests fixate on a few things, but Bridget is a bit of an outlier here. The symbolism varies a lot, but generally is appears to lean into themes of self-confidence and self-reliance, as well as change. That is something that fits all three quite well, being powerful, independent and experiencing life changes (Sol attempting to settle down, Ram discovering more about being alive, and Bridget’s transition). In the Paris pattern, the Queen of Clubs is the only one not directly modeled after a historical figure, only being a generic queenly character. This may indicate a bit more open-endedness, as all three do care about identity and who they really are. In a more literal suite motif, Sol and Bridget do both primarily fight with blunt weapons, which could be seen as a metaphorical ‘club,’ and while Ram has swords, they often remain sheathed in battle instead of revealing the sharp ends.

Queen of Diamonds- Curiously, no character appear to be assigned to this one? Perhaps it is being saved for someone in the future.

Queen of Hearts- Shared between May and Jack-O Valentine. This is one of the more commonly-seen cards in this sort of motif, likely due to its inclusion in Alice in Wonderland. Because of this, it can have some dual symbolism, being a heart card that’s associated with a cruel, loveless, domineering figure. In a more general motif, both characters fit as being associated with romance and tying a lot of their character and plotline towards love and relationships with men (Johnny and Sol, respectively). The Paris pattern has the Queen of Hearts designed after the biblical Judith, a widow who saved Jerusalem by charming and killing a general that had previously sieged her city. Both characters have attempted to take the initiative to save a group of others (May running away from home in Xrd to keep her family from getting sick and Jack-O attempting to stop I-no at the cost of herself in Strive) which may also contribute. Both also command underlings in battle, which may contribute to the overall ‘queen’ motif

Queen of Spades- Shared between Millia Rage and I-no. This card has some symbolism directly from card games, as it is often viewed as being unlucky. It’s also given such flattering names as ‘the bitch’ in seven card stud poker and is often used as the old maid card as well. Both are characters who are frequently commented on for their beauty, yet have complicated issues with relationships in different ways. As a card it also tends to lead towards level-headed intellectualism and practicality, but is often less associated with emotions than the other queen cards. Both characters are often seen as cold and distant, intelligent and capable but lonely and closed off. The Paris pattern is designed after Pallas (Athena), goddess of war strategy and wisdom. In Greek mythology, the ‘Pallas’ epithet likely referred to the goddess’ battle proficiency, as it can be translated as ‘to brandish (as a weapon’) and while it is a fighting game, the two of them narratively encounter a lot of conflict with others

Jacks

Jack of Clubs- Shared between Axl Low, Anji Mito, and Sin Kiske. Jack cards, in general, tend to have less symbolic meaning, but the Jack of Clubs tends to mention witty intellect and memory. All three characters are defined by personal memories that they treasure, though to varying degrees, and have a playful, trickster wit to them at times. It can pertain to luck and charisma that may also prove dangerous, and, at the very least, Anji does tend to his his glib words to cause trouble. On a note of consistency, Sin is of the same suite as Ky and Sol, making them collectively a three-card straight flush

Jack of Diamonds- Shared between Nagoriyuki and Giovanna. Curiously, both are newcomers to the series. This card tends to have an association with messages and messengers, which in a meta sense may refer to the newness that they bring to the game. There also seems to be repeated mention of a lack of loyalty and an unfaithful assistant, which could fit both in Giovanna’s blase attitude towards her work and Nagoriyuki’s role as an unwilling underling to Happy Chaos.

Jack of Hearts- This card has the most people sharing it, being a four-way appearance between Faust, Goldlewis Dickinson, Testament, and Asuka R. Kreutz. This one also has a lot of heart-based themes similar to the King and Queens, often mentioning traits like kindness, good intentions, and sincerity. Though all four of them vary in many ways, their characters tend to involve sincere intentions towards others, though it might not always pan out the way they would have hoped (especially for Asuka). All four are definitely willing to show their emotions, especially when it comes to trying to bond with others, such as Faust with Ramlethal, Goldlewis with Bridget, Testament with Dizzy and Johnny, and Asuka with Raven. There is also a poetry motif with the card that depicts the Knave of Hearts as a trickster, and while all four are not necessarily trickster figures, Faust is known for his peculiarities, Goldlewis for his alien causing mischief in fights, Testament for being unpredictable in earlier games and mysteriously surviving several near-death instances, and Asuka being a mysterious and indecipherable problem-causer for most of the series. Also, in another consistency of the suites, Testament shares the heart suite with Johnny and May

Jack of Spades- Held solely by Baiken. Spade cards in general seem to veer towards more aggressive interpretations, and that definitely suits her just fine. It often mentions violence, though there is also mention of intense passion and ruthless determination, which also fit pretty nicely. It also tends to mention riskiness, either in the form of violence or unhealthy habits like drinking. Aside from the Joker and the King of Diamonds, Baiken is the only character to have a card all to herself, which may reflect the solitary nature she held onto for many years. Though, similar to the club and heart suites, she has a connection with Bedman and Delilah in the spade suite.

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precious-little-scoundrel · 6 months

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What is Elvis like as a father in law? I pretty much see him treating Donna and any of the other women who join the family similar to how he talked to fans at times. Everyone is darlin ', sweetheart, honey hahaha. Wanting to take everyone under his wing and spoil em. Especially Donna because she basically saves two of his kids.

This man -you’ve nailed it.

He loves people. We’ve established this. He adores his kids. Now, people who love his kids? Oh that’s just a beautiful upper tier of love from him. He loves them, he squirrels them away in rooms just one on one to grill them about their interest in a off-putting but lovingly intense way. He inducts them into the family with all the pomp and circumstance of a born performer while also taking care to give them private and subtle assurances of his welcome.

Of course there was Ella‘s fella Johnny, and the time Elvis put his dumb blonde head through the penthouse drywall. But that was no aspersion against Johnny’s good character, his valiant service to the nation as a soldier in ‘Nam or any real man-to-man dislike. It was entirely to do with a red blooded man marrying his 18-year-old baby. Elvis had sworn as a young father he’d kill anyone who came for Ella: Johnny can be glad he only has a permanent goose-egg back there from the incident. A few months of good intentions and proof that Ella is happy with her choice and all can be forgiven. Besides, Elaine seems charmed by Johnny and Elvis hates being anything but on the same page as Tink.

Now Jack’s lady, she is a whole Lotta woman, so much Woman that some idiots might call her masculine, but that’s just her broad shoulders and brusque attitude leading you astray. Live and let live, Elvis believes, and he can sympathize with Jack. He knows a thing or two about the positive affects of your lady not letting you get away with shit. Or conversely only allowing you to in her company or under her supervision. It only takes Elvis a few months to get a read on Vic and stop trying to spoil her with jewels or perfume, instead he buys her cigars in the vain hope that she’ll stop swiping his.

And then of course there is Danny and his precious Bee, raised most of her summers at Graceland and practically a Presley child until Shiloh had to play matchmaker and Danny had to make it weird and marry her. Oh well, at least they’re compatible and Elvis already approves.

And there’s Rosalee and her Sam Harrison, who Elvis likes well enough as he’s the son of an army buddy, even if the fool boy married someone else in the interim

and Daisy’s bloke ain’t half bad for being British, being known as Rosalee‘s kind professor, he’s got brownie points in the Presley family before Daisy attached herself to him, he’s a calming influence on that wild child and the rest of them, someone for Elvis to smoke with and talk about spiritual things.

And then there’s Donna. Now, Elvis does not have favorites, alright? He really doesn’t, Donna’s not his favorite. Don Don can’t be, as she is not a favorite, she is a fairy, a precious angel sent from above to patch up his babies and bring joy to their household. Whenever sweet Don Don is not being clutched by Jesse or gossiping with Jack or posing for Marie, her tiny self is tucked under Elvis’ armpit while he shows her his latest hyper fixation. She’s written many a caption for a polaroid after he complained of his bad handwriting and morosely wished upon a star within her earshot for some young helper to come along and aid him. Donna didn’t expect Elvis Presley to be so endearingly human -but he is, and it almost makes her forgive that horrid nickname.

…and then take into account the grand-babies that come from these…

#sarge asks #sarge: 2nd gen #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine

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ghostofthemost141 · 4 months

Text

Serene

Chapter 4

Gif credit to @simonghostrileys

Ch.1. Ch.2. Ch.3 Ch.4. Ch.5. Ch.6. Ch.7.

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish xF!Reader

Word Count: 2,789

About: You were on vacation to the beach and you think you're about to die when you're caught in a riptide until an unlikely hero comes to your rescue. Precisely a Scottish man that bores a tail. And now, you two are secretly seeing each other.

!Warnings!: None

Italics means Third Person POV

Notes: I love the way this story is progressing. I hope y'all are enjoying this as much as I am. Enjoy!

“Johnny..” You softly spoke, pulling away from him. You were enjoying all of the feelings and emotions you were feeling right now, but it can’t go further. At least not right now.

“Are you alright?” Johnny asked me, seeing in his eyes that were full of concern.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m great. I just..need to get home.” I lied.

Really and truly I didn’t need to be home, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were both being watched somehow. But I didn’t want to startle Johnny.

“What is it, Dove? Talk to meh. I can see yer worry.” Johnny comforted me, holding my chin reassuringly.

“Um..”

You thought about whether or not to really tell Johnny how you are really feeling.

“I feel like we are being watched.” I whispered, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference whether I did or not.

Johnny held you close as he scanned through the area, seeing if he could see anyone. He immediately took on a protective role over you despite this being the third time you have seen each other. You leaned into his chest and just stared down at his glimmering tail. The waves were still able to touch y’all upon where y’all were sitting at, which was the only reason why he hasn’t turned into a human yet.

“I don’ see anyone, Dove.” Johnny announced.

“Are you sure?” I asked again.

Johnny cupped my face and turned my head upwards, making me look up at him.

“I am sure. I wouldn’t let anyon’ hurt ya.” Johnny cooed to me, those deep, bright blue eyes staring deeply into mine with his soft thumb rubbing onto my chin.

You could not take your eyes off of him. He has you hypnotized to have your eyes on him at all times. It made your heart race, but in a good way.

“I know we just met but-”

“Yes.”

Johnny’s eyes went wide by how quick you were with your response.

“You don’t even ‘now what I was gonna say.”

“I can predict what though.” I joked, making Johnny laugh, “but yes. I want to keep seeing you.”

Johnny smiled big, showing off his pearly whites to you. His heart was beating out of his chest hearing you say that. Johnny has met many girls as his human self, whether they were serious or not but for some reason, you had his entire heart. From the moment his eyes locked with yours, you had stolen his entire heart.

“If we do, I will have to meet your family.” Johnny mentioned.

You choked back hearing that. Even though your Uncle Ale loved everyone, he was insanely protective over you. He did not want anything to happen to his estrella as he loved to call you. The thought of him meeting Johnny had you nervous.

“As a human, of course?” I joke.

“Just as long as I don’t touch water, we are fine.” Johnny jokes back.

He had this sorta charm to him that you loved. He always knew how to make you feel better.

“Now my uncle. He’s..a great guy but he is very protective over me. My aunt, I call her that even though they aren’t married yet, is starting to get on the protective train as well but she’s lovely too.”

The entire time you explain your family to Johnny, he rubs your back, taking in all of the information you were telling him. He loved hearing you open up to him.

“My parents died in an accident years ago when I was young. So he took me in and well I am grateful he did. I miss them a lot, but time makes it better ya know?” I added.

“That it does.” Johnny said.

He leaned in, pecking your head. He could feel your emotions start to rise the more you talked about your parents, but he felt honored that you were opening up to him.

“Before you saved me, I saw my parents again. They were both smiling down at me and looked exactly as they did when they had passed away. They told me that it’s not my time yet and there was something waiting for me in life. I didn’t know what that was until I realized..”

You paused.

“Realize what, hen?” Johnny urged you to go on.

“When I wanted to see you again after you saved me. That’s when I realized that you were the thing my parents told me.” I confessed, feeling tears start to fill my eyes but in a good way.

Johnny was overwhelmed with what you were telling him but he loved it. He has never heard anyone tell him something so meaningful before in his life but he was so happy to hear it from you.

“Oh Dove.”

Before Johnny could do it first, you leaned in and placed your lips onto his, embracing into another kiss. You had to do this, for your curfew time was coming close, for real this time.

“Johnny.”

“Dove?”

“I have to go. For real this time.” I said urgently, “but I promise you’ll meet them. Soon.”

Johnny smiled big at you.

“I can’ wait to meet ‘em.” Johnny said as I stood up, dusting my legs and butt off.

Johnny dove back into the water but kept his upper half above the water.

“Same time tomorrow?” I ask.

“You got it.” Johnny confirmed.

Johnny pressed his hand against his lips and blew you a kiss. You pretended to catch the kiss and press it against your heart, making Johnny laugh. And with that, Johnny dove under the water and disappeared, leaving you alone with that eerie feeling of still being watched. Perhaps it was paranoia or you were actually being watched, you couldn't tell. You got into your car, started it, and peeled out of the parking lot, going straight towards your home. When you got home, you parked behind Remi's car and got out, quickly hurrying inside.

“Finally.” I mumbled, feeling safe inside the confinement of my own home.

“Dove?” I heard a muffled voice call to me from the living room.

I looked to find both Uncle Ale and Aunt Remi on the couch, in each other's arms with Remi awake and Ale passed the hell out. It was a cute sight.

“It's me.” I say, walking into the living room.

“You okay?” Remi asked.

You weren't sure if she could tell by your mood or what, but you were internally on cloud nine, despite feeling the intense paranoia you felt moments ago. But now that feeling was gone, the euphoria and bliss you were supposed to be feeling has taken over.

“Yes ma'am.” I said, trying to hide my smile.

“You look like when Ale and I had our first kiss.” Remi joked.

How did she know? You thought. Maybe she was just one of those women that was gifted with that intuition.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” I lied.

“You went to the beach didn't ya?” Remi asked.

“I did.”

“Soo, were you meeting someone?”

She got me there.

“And don't say Gem or Pixie cause you have never been this giggly or smiley after meeting them.”

Damn it to hell. Oh well. I trust her. There are some things I have told her that I haven't told Ale and so far she has kept them to herself. She would only tell Ale if it was a major concern.

“I did. A guy I met.” I confess, making Remi smile greatly.

“Aw, that's so sweet. He handsome?”

“Very.”

Remi chuckled at your comment. She knew you liked having an adult woman figure in your life and knew that ‘girl talk’ couldn't happen with Ale so she stepped into that role for you. You both have had many meaningful conversations with each other and she hasn't told Ale anything unless you wanted her to. And this would be another thing she'd keep to herself.

“Well I'm happy for you sweetie. If anything happens though you come to me or Ale, alright?” She reminded me.

“Yes, Auntie.” I say.

Remi chuckled in response causing Ale to stir in his sleep.

“I'll leave y'all alone. Goodnight.” I said.

“Goodnight, Dove.” Remi said.

I then turned and sauntered into my room, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Tomorrow was going to be rough and you knew that. You would have to go to the Dean's office and report Professor Graves for sexual harassment. You doubt anyone would believe you but it was worth the shot. As you got into bed and laid down, you thought of only one person. Johnny. You didn't know whether or not to consider him your boyfriend but you like to think he was. Eventually though when you start bailing to see him, you will have to introduce him to Gem, Pixie, Ale, and Remi. And that made you nervous. Mostly because of Ale. Your uncle is ex military and knows how to fight and protect with any means necessary. He has fought and killed a bunch of cartels and has nearly died millions of times doing so so he isn't afraid of anything nor anyone. The last guy you were with was nearly killed because not only did he cheat on you, but he broke your heart and you had to beg Ale to not hunt him down and teach him a lesson. But it hurt Alejandro to see you confined to your room for days on end over a boy who barely gave you the bare minimum. You knew Johnny wouldn't hurt or do anything like that, you just didn't know how Ale was going to react to him considering he looks ex military as well with how big and fit he is. Nonetheless, you eventually confided into a deep sleep, dreaming about Johnny and his beautiful blue eyes.

“Estrella! Time to wake up!”

Ale's husky deep voice woke you up from your deep slumber. It was unexpected so it had startled you.

“Y-Yesh?” I call out, barely gathering my surroundings.

“It's time to get up.” Ale said.

You didn't want to do this. You did not want to face your professor again.

“I..Don't feel good.” I lied, coming up with my best sickly voice.

“Can I come in?” Ale asked.

“Yeah.” I groaned out, trying to keep up with the facade.

Your uncle opened the door and entered your bedroom, immediately taking a seat next to you on your bed.

“How do you feel?” Ale asked me, placing his hand on my forehead.

“Just very groggy and nauseous.” I lied.

Ale patted my forehead a little bit trying to feel my temperature.

“Well you don't feel hot.” Ale announced.

“I also got chills as well.” I add.

Ale looked down at you with concern. He knew you were lying about not feeling well, he could see it written all over your face.

“Dove, are you lying to me?” Ale asked with concern.

He knew I was lying but he was asking with concern, not out of anger nor disappointment. I sighed deeply, sitting upright to be on his level.

“I'm scared to go, Ale. I really am. I know you want me to report him and I will. I'll send an email, and I will do stuff around the house just please don't make me today. Please.” I begged him.

Your uncle could see the hurt you were going through. How much that event affected you even though it was just a comment it has affected you greatly. Alejandro sighed deeply before speaking.

“You didn't have to lie to me about feeling bad if that's how you felt, Dove.” Ale reassured me.

“I know and I understand you want the best for me. I haven't missed any days though this semester. It will be just this one time and I'll have Gem or Pixie get my missed work.” I added to hopefully lessen the ordeal.

“Okay. Only thing I ask is if you load the dishwasher and if you're up for it to go into town and get groceries. I'll leave my card with you if you do decide to go.” Alejandro informs me.

“I got it, sir.” I say, keeping my word.

“Te amo, Dove.” Alejandro said to me.

“Te amo, uncle Ale.” I say as Ale brought me into a hug.

By now both your uncle and aunt were out of the house, going to their respective jobs, leaving you alone at the house. So far you have done the dishes like your uncle has asked, you’re just trying to muster up the energy to make the drive into town to get groceries. Of course both Gem and Pixie have already messaged you, asking where you were at, and you just told them you weren’t feeling well and you would see them tomorrow. You hated lying to them, but you just wanted some time to yourself, as well as time to process what happened. Not only with your professor but also with Johnny. He wants to be with you and meet your friends and family. He was a kind man, perhaps the kindest man you have ever been with. You were just worried how your uncle, aunt, and your friends were going to react to him. You can’t keep the fact that he is a damn mermaid a secret forever. Deciding not to be a hermit no more, you got dressed into some decent day clothes, slipped on your shoes, made sure to have your uncle’s card and the grocery list with you and made your way to your car. You didn’t care if you saw someone you knew in town, you just wanted the day to yourself. You started your car and started the short drive into town. Ale wrote down the necessities y’all needed as well as get a treat or two for yourself. He knew you were dealing with a lot and always made a point to make sure you were okay, even if he doesn’t always have the best words to say or come up with. Eventually you were in town and made your first pit stop at the grocery market.

“Just in and then out, Dove.” I told myself, mentally preparing myself.

Right when you were about to get out, your phone pinged, indicating you got a text message from someone. You checked to see it was from Gem.

‘Heads up, Professor Graves is absent, in case you are out and about.’

“Of course.” I grumbled.

Out of all damn things. Now I have to watch my back as I am out and about. I had eventually mustered up the courage to tell both Gem and Pixie what happened and let’s just say they have the same feelings as my uncle does. No matter, I’m not scared of him.

Putting on a brave face, you got out of your car and made your way into the store, grabbing a cart on the way out. Unfortunately, as soon as you entered the grocery store, you got the intense feeling again that you were being watched. You hurried down the aisles as fast as you could, grabbing everything that was on the list as fast as you possibly could. You hated feeling helpless by yourself in a supermarket but you had no idea why you felt the way that you did. It was finally when you took notice of a figure that was discreetly following you. He was tall and broad, looked nothing like Professor Graves, but you didn’t recognize the person at all and frankly you were getting fed up with being followed. You debated on whether or not you should make a scene. You decided on the former.

“You got a damn problem buddy?” I snarled at the person.

The man stopped following me. He wore a black jacket, dark jeans, dark shoes, and a mask that concealed his face. Who was this guy? The man’s eyes didn’t show any fear, instead they remained neutral.

“No English?” I mocked, trying to make myself seem bigger.

“Yes.” The man spoke, a thick accent in his voice.

“Well then why are you following me? Do I know you? I’ll get my uncle on your ass.” I threatened.

The man still remained neutral. He stepped closer, making my heart race.

“I know about you and Johnny.”

My heart raced even more. How does this man know about me and Johnny? No one was there with us last night. No one. Unless..

“Who are you?” I ask.

“I’m Simon. Simon Riley.” The man introduced himself as the man who saved Johnny all those years ago, “and you’re putting Johnny in danger.”

…

What?

TO BE CONTINUED…

#cod #callofduty #call of duty #simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #ghostofthemost141 #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #serene fic #alejandro vargas #phillip graves

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mister-mickey · 7 months

Text

Sexuality headcanons

(Does not have anything to do with the ship hcs, these are my personal hcs. It’s more related to the twitter au but even then it’s not 100% the same)

Experience doesn’t necessarily mean sex, just like dating and such

Darry

- Cis and gay lol

- He likes guys that fight (Paul, tim)

- That’s why he liked football so much lolol

- Despite this he doesn’t have a lot of experience with other guys because he only dated girls in highschool

Soda

- Bisexual ofc. Also cis but very connected to fem side

- His type is uhh. Mean ppl. He hates to admit it though and makes excuses for his partner/crush

- “No Sandy isn’t cheating on me she just has lots of guy friends!” “Steve isn’t mean he’s just bitey!”

- Has experience with lots of different ppl because he’s so in demand so he’s good at flirting (charming handsome boy)

Pony

- Hm. Also bisexual because if taht obvious crush on cherry but also everyone else in the book lmao. Non-binary in a “I don’t give a fuck about my gender” way. Still he/him

- Doesn’t have a set type, it’s literally just anyone. He meets someone? Oh wow, new crush.

- It seems like he’s attracted to assholes, but it’s actually just because everyone around him is an asshole

- No experience, he’s 14 and kind of losery (I love him still, not pb hate)

Twobit

- Bisexual but leans towards girl, cis

- Canon that he likes blondes, so I bet he’s made out with dally at a party at least once.

- Marcia is an obvious exception to this and he doesn’t understand it. He jokes about her dying her hair blonde but he really does like her as is

- Lots of experience I’m sure. He’s funny and charming, I’d be surprised if he didn’t

Dally

- Bisexual but leans toward guys, cis

- Likes people that kick his ass (tim, Sylvia) honestly his type is just people that see him for who he is

- Tim and Sylvia are his toxic exes that he keeps going back to. He hates it but they really are some of the only people that he feels understand him

- He’s Dallas, im pretty sure Ponyboy mentioned him having tons of flings so he’s got experience.

Steve

- Gay, and I read a really good fic where he was ftm and it rearranged my brain so he’s trans now

- His type is pretty boys (soda) he’s mostly only ever had a crush on soda so it’s not like he’s explored his type lol

- He dated evie because she was friends with Sandy and he wanted to double date with soda and Sandy so he could watch them the entire time (jealous mf)

- Zero experience, he refused to even kiss evie and he never had the guts to even look at other guys

Johnny

- Hm. Gay and cis, but he seriously questioned his gender for a bit because he didn’t have much of a self concept and he couldn’t imagine himself at all. He decided to stop thinking about it because it stressed him out

- His type is people that he thinks are better than him (Dallas, for being tuffer, pony, for being smarter) he thinks that being around cool people will make him feel better about himself

- It doesn’t work, but he still likes to do it. Anyway, pony and dally still make him feel better in other ways because they think he’s so cool

- No experience, nobody ever flirts with him (or even notices him) except for Sylvia that one time. He thinks he’s ugly but honestly he just needs to put himself out there

Tim

- Gay and ftm (projecting lolll) very few people know because he was really young when he transed. Like when he was like 4 and his parents were like “hm okay whatever we don’t care anyway.” Also itty bitty titty committee so he doesn’t even have to bind (jealous)

- His type is literally just tough guys. That’s why he dated dallas and why he likes darry. They’re both tough and good at fighting.

- also dated Sylvia but only to make dally mad (and he regretted it because he realized immediately afterwards that he was definitely gay. Sylvia thought it was funny)

- Lots of experience but only with select people (people he can trust)

Angela

- Bisexual but doesn’t realize it lol, cis

- She likes traditionally masculine guys and traditionally feminine girls. Idk why but she likes it. Tbf it’s the sixties she wouldn’t be exposed to many fem guys and masc girls. Maybe she had a crush on Sylvia

- Dated bryon and actually really liked him for a bit. She broke up with him for pb but regretted it lmao.

- Bryon was her first bf so no real experience. Also tim chases any possible beaus away so she’s real unlucky

Curly

- Gay and cis, but too stupid to realize that he’s gay

- His type is any man ever. (Saw tuffponyboy’s post about how curly likes dally, bryon, and Sodapop and I committed it to my belief system)

- But he also likes pony. Maybe he even realizes and is like “omg I’m a homosexual 😧” and he doesn’t realize that everyone around him is also gay and wouldn’t judge him.

- Zero experience, gets no bitches, loser. Also he’s fifteen and he cares more about fighting than smooching

Mark

- Aromantic, asexual and ftm. Idk I feel like it fits him.

- Honestly he cares more about his friends and family than anything else. He literally sold drugs ti support his family (look where that got him)

- Has dated girls before but he hated it so much. Even tried kissing a guy at a party but decided that everyone else was crazy for enjoying this stuff

- A little bit of experience from before he decided that it all just wasn’t for him

Bryon

- Bisexual and cis

- His type is shorter than him (he likes to be tall and feel strong)

- He dated angela and Cathy, but he kissed curly at a party once (claimed it was because he was drunk and curly looks like angela but it’s not true he just thought curly was a cutie (even he’s super annoying))

- He mentioned being a ladies man so yeah he’s got experience.

Cathy

- Straight and cis, but a mega ally !!

- Her type is thoughtful and also big muscles

- She really thought bryon was perfect until he had his, err, mental breakdown and flipped out. It really hurt and she was so worried about him but he shut her out for months so she ended up moving on.

- Pretty sure bryon was her first bf? But she got with pb so she’s got a little bit of experience now

M&M

- I think gay and nb, and he doesn’t care about pronouns at all. He’s nonchalant like that

- Had a crush on mark lol. And Randy. He doesn’t date anyone because the only person he’s come out to is Cathy

- He thinks curly jumps him because he’s gay. Doesn’t realize its because he’s a hippie (curly is stupid but not homophobic)

- No experience, he’s like 13 and has never ever dated. Maybe he’s danced with someone at a school dance but he has no charm

Cherry

- Cishet ally

- Her type is canonly jerks. Very funny miss cherry.

- She dated bob, liked dally, in the series she liked Tim too. Why is she like this 💔

- A bit of experience, she dated bob after all.

Bob

- Bisexual in a homophobic way, cis

- Type is attractive rich people. He would never be attracted to a greaser, he’d rather jump off a cliff

- Dated cherry, likes Randy. He wants a very traditional future with a spouse and two children and he doesn’t think he can get that with a poor person for whatever reason. He also wants to be the “man” in the relationship.

- Lots of experience because he’s a whore I think. Flirts with most any rich person.

Marcia

- Cishet, doesn’t know that gay people are actually real. (When cherry told her she thought it was a joke)

- Type is funny lol. That’s why she likes twobit. I guess that means Randy is somewhat funny

- She actually isn’t that funny herself, she just likes to laugh.

- Very little experience. Randy was her first bf

Randy

- Gay and cis

- He likes bob. That’s it !

- He legit isn’t attracted to anyone else. After bob died he changed his entire ideology and became a hippie !! He was down bad. He doesn’t give a fuck about Marcia she’s just a girl to him

- Only has experience with Marcia and it’s not really the experience he wants because he is bobsexual

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weepingwriter · 10 months

Text

Proxy Headcannons

TW: I couldn't find anything but please feel free to comment if I need to edit!!

–The Proxies Overall–

Their working with the Operator has allowed for all three to gain enhancements of their normal abilities.

All of them are stronger than average and faster than average

They can regenerate so long as they are close enough in proximity to the Operator.

They have better hearing than most normal humans.

They are ranked above pastas. The system is a hierarchy so very few proxies actually exist under the Operators rule, but many pastas exist.

—Brian Thomas—

This man is massive. He stands at the towering height of 6’6” and weighs around 220 lbs. This man could crush your head like a watermelon between his thighs if he really wanted to.

Out of the three proxies, he probably has the best relationship with the operator. This isn't because he has a good relationship with it, but because he is the one who fights his control the least.

“Hoodie” is just a persona of sorts that Brian puts on when he works. He does this as a way to cope with the reality of how his life has changed since he started working for the eldritch being.

For him it’s like acting. He steps foot into a character and steps out as soon as the job is over and his mask is off

He only wears his mask and hoodie when he’s working as well, this feeds into his dramatization of his work.

This isn't to say that Brian is still his same bubbly self as he was in college. This life has still hardened him. He has become a paranoid, harsh, shell of himself.

Brian tends to be the most manipulative out of the three. He can play Mr. Charming and gain the trust of others easily. He will use whoever he can to get whatever he wants.

He’s very good at reading people. He tends to be a rather social butterfly and makes friends much easier than Tim and Toby.

He definitely blames himself for dragging both Tim and Jay into this life.

His favorite weather is when there’s lots of thunderstorms and heavy rain. It tends to help him sleep better at night.

His favorite genre of music is probably old country. Think Johnny Cash and George Jones. He despises most new country though. If he’s not listening to that then he’s probably listening to 90’s grunge.

He prefers to use CDs and cassette tapes rather than phones or computers. He just enjoys the aesthetic of it a lot.

His favorite game is Mario kart, specifically on the Wii.

His favorite food is biscuits and gravy. He’s a southern boy so it’s a comforting, cheap meal that he can make rather easily.

Probably the best cook in the house when he does cook. He doesn’t do it very often because of lack of supplies however.

—Tim Wright—

Chronic smoker. Like a pack-a-day kind of guy. It’s the first thing he does in the morning.

Funnily enough he still brushes his teeth after every cigarette if he can. If not, he’s chewing on a stick of gum right after.

Big man as well, but definitely shorter than Brian. He stands at around 6’0” even and weighs near 210 lbs as well. Think of your typical strong-man build

He’s the shortest of the proxies, but he makes up for it in brute strength. This man is like a fucking tank, he can and will run someone down if he gets the chance.

He probably fights the operator the most when it comes to allowing it to fully take over. He’ll do his job as asked so long as it allows him to stay in control of his body.

He definitely has the shortest temper. Ever since he was forced into this life Tim’s limits have been pushed and he tends to lash out on whoever he can in the moment.

He also tends to be rather insensitive even to his work partners' needs or emotions. In his mind, this world is do or die, there’s no room for thoughts and feelings about how these things work.

Tim enjoys alternative music, more on the softer early 2000’s rock side, but he’s also grown rather fond of Brian’s country music as well. His favorite band is probably three days grace or breaking benjamin

He tends to hum little songs through the day when he’s off duty, often when he’s doing mundane tasks like chores and whatnot to fill the silence. Sometimes, if he can get his hand on one, he’ll still practice the guitar on days off.

Very very private man. He doesn’t like talking about his past, his problems, his life, his anything. He’s got walls around him stronger than steel and very few people are allowed in.

For a while he held a lot of resentment towards Brian but he had since gotten through it. Sometimes when they fight however he does bring up their past in fits of anger. He never really means what he says though.

Is by far one of the most loyal men you will ever meet in your life. No matter how many fights with Brian and Toby he has he will remain by their side and stick up for them in any circumstance. He does not take kindly to anyone shittalking his teammates.

An early bird. Tim enjoys having the mornings to himself so he can sit outside and sip on a cup of coffee. Because of this, he tends to be in bed by 10 pm at the latest to make sure he gets enough sleep.

His favorite time of the year is spring. He doesn’t like when it’s too hot or too cold outside. Surprisingly, he does like to look at flowers as they remind him of his mom and his life before all this.

His favorite flowers are magnolias

—Toby Rogers—

Toby is the second tallest within the group, standing at the height of 6’2”. He weighs about 155-160 lbs. He absolutely loves to pick on Tim because of their height difference.

Tends to be the most hostile to new people due to his lack of social skills. He’s rather untrusting and wary, especially of older men.

Is rather indifferent about his facial scarring. Really the only reasons he will cover up with a mask or bandage is if they’re out in town and they need to be inconspicuous.

Despite him being on the leaner side Toby does have this abnormal strength about him. Definitely has a sleeper build. When out in public he tends to wear more loose clothing that hides his physique but at home it's all tank tops and muscle shirts for training.

Has a lot of sensory issues. He hates to be in loud or crowded places for long periods of time. He’s learned to get over it with time, but being at home in his room is definitely his preferred place.

He cannot stand the texture of some clothes. If it doesn't feel right then he literally will not wear it. Same goes for certain blankets or sheets even.

He spends a lot of his free time either reading or drawing. Toby has a rather overactive imagination so he really immerses himself into his fantasy worlds that he creates

Toby by far has the most difficult relationship with the operator. This isn’t because he fights like Tim does, but simply because it takes the worst toll on his body and mind. Because of the lapses in memory and overworking of his body Toby ends up hurt or drained for days, sometimes even weeks after missions.

He definitely is the most okay with the work they do. He doesn't really feel any guilt or other emotions when it comes to his victims. To him they don’t really exist outside of this little vacuum of work. He barely even recognizes them as human.

Toby definitely is the clingiest out of the boys as well. He has his few select people that he enjoys being around and he tends to linger around them when possible. He’s not one for much physical touch with friends however, he just needs to be able to see them.

His favorite genre of music is probably metalcore/electronic metal. He really enjoys Bring Me the Horizon, Linkin Park, and Motionless in White. He however will listen to just about anything and has the most diverse playlists in the house.

His favorite season/weather is Winter. Toby loves the snow and how crisp and soft it is. He could spend hours outside when it snows.

Toby is actually the usual cook in the home. Despite his usual depiction, he has a rather steady hand especially when he’s concentrating on something. His tics tend to be more verbal anyways than physical.

This man is scarily fast. Genuinely if he had gone to high school he would likely have been a track star. He can run a mile in just under six minutes. If a victim does manage to escape from his teammates, he's on their asses faster than they can blink half the time.

Toby has very few memories of his life before the operator. He knows faintly of his family and their names but he cannot remember faces or voices. Trying to make him remember anything further often leads to rather bad episodes for him, so Tim and Brian do their best not to bring up his past or ask too many questions about it.

#marble hornets #creepypasta #slenderverse #tim wright #ticci toby #hoodie marble hornets #creepypasta headcanon #slenderman proxy

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incognitobobcat · 4 months

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♈️♉️♊️♋️♌️♍️ Who Am I and What Is My Sign? ♎️♏️♐️♑️♒️♓️

EDIT: ANSWERS ARE NOW POSTED!! Thank you to @puissantveil for being the first (and only one to give a thoughtful and analytical answer! You guessed the characters correctly and most of your zodiac matches were correct 👍 This was really fun to make 😀

Happy New Years, y’all!!

Here’s something fun for y’all!! As the title says, this is a guessing game on who is speaking in the following excerpts and what their zodiac signs are 😁 I think that who the speakers are is easy to guess, since many are fanatics of the Mortal Kombat verse ☺️

The zodiac signs that I feel that the characters are is purely subjective. If you’re an astrology buff and you have strong opinions, that’s fine. This is just for fun.

I will leave this for two weeks and post the answers afterwards.

Anyways, enjoy!

♈️♉️♊️♋️♌️♍️♎️♏️♐️♑️♒️♓️♈️♉️♊️♋️♌️

I. Reiko

I relish combat. I am unapologetic and proud of this.

I was adopted and raised in the art of war, to whom I am eternally grateful to my adopted father for.

I have a strong sense of pride in my accomplishments and accolades. I am a superior warrior compared to those of Outworld and Earthrealm.

A successful army requires structure and discipline.

Despite of how I am perceived, I have principles. I have no respect for Bi-Han for letting his father die, a crime which is unforgivable.

What is my sign? Aries ♈️

II. Ashrah

Transformation is my purpose.

My spiritual journey requires me to die to my old self in order to be reborn as a new being, one which i wholeheartedly take.

I was born of darkness and fire and have committed unforgivable deeds as my former self. But once enlightened of a different way to live, I strive to rise like the Phoenix from the ashes to achieve my absolution.

My power lies in my freewill to choose the path of light.

To others, I am frightening, to others I am mysterious and intriguing, yet to a few, I am an unwavering and loyal friend, an ally, and a protector.

What is my sign? Scorpio ♏️

III. Shang Tsung

In order to achieve my goals and get what I want. I have the ability to persuade and deceive you to accept my views.

I am a wordsmith and my intellect, shrewdness, resourcefulness, creativity, wit and charm are among a few of my assets to aid me survive.

When it serves me, I can be your ally. Oh, how gullible you are to give in to my lies, even though you claim that you don’t trust me.

I have many faces. I have many identities. You may know my by one name, But when I take on a different form, you will never see me coming until it is too late.

What is my sign? Gemini ♊️

IV. Johnny Cage

I am larger than life! I live by #YOLO! If I’ve got money, it slips through my fingers like water.

Fun and entertainment is my purpose and people are drawn in by my energy. My wit comes in the forms of sarcasm and pick-up lines. Hey! isn’t that a mark of intelligence?

Despite my love for women, I can’t seem to take relationships seriously because I am totally all about my pleasure.

Despite me seemingly rubbing off people the wrong way, I’m not a bad guy! In fact, I do have a big heart and I truly care about doing the right thing.

I love going to different places and learning about different cultures. After all, life’s an adventure!

What is my sign? Sagittarius ♐️

V. Raiden

I am patient and steady as the earth. I am content with the simple life if I wasn’t recruited to be one of Earthrealm’s protectors.

When you first meet me, there is nothing remarkable about myself.

I don’t have the great accomplishments and accolades that have graced some warriors, nor do I have any claim to glory or prestige. But what I have and all I have to give, I make up for by heart.

I am loyal to my friends, dedicated to Earthrealm’s cause, and resilient through the challenges and trials of my role.

I release immense power and have the potential to go down a dark path. Once I am set in doing so, I will stop at nothing until all threats are neutralized.

What is my sign? Taurus ♉️

VI. Scorpion (Kuai Liang)

Unlike my code name and mastered element, I am level-headed and diplomatic. As much as it is within my control, I will use words to diffuse a conflict.

When push comes to shove, I will use violence as a last resort. It takes a significant offence to provoke me and I have a fiery temper that burns.

My core value is integrity and I live by it. While I can submit to leadership, I will always stand up for what is just and in alignment with the values of my former clan, as held by my father.

What is my sign? Libra ♎️

VII. Smoke (Tomas Vrbada)

Despite my intimidating demeanour, I am kind and compassionate. If you need food and shelter, I will provide it for you. I feel deeply and am empathetic, as I am sensitive. Though many may perceive me as an open book, you may never fully know me.

My trust and respect aren’t easily earned, but when you do, I am loyal to the end.

I long for love and acceptance, and when denied these, it eats away at my soul, little by little.

I have been through much suffering in my life, which began with the loss of my family. My life was drastically changed after being taken in by the those who murdered my mother and sister. Despite this circumstance, I did my best to adapt and accept my adopted family. And despite being rejected, and then betrayed, by the one brother whom I idolized, I cling to the hope of reconciliation.

I believe in family, be it by blood or by choice, as in life, those who you have in your life as family will always be there through your troubled times.

What is my sign? Cancer ♋️

VIII. Kung Lao

I am larger than life. I have the biggest heart of gold and can easily make friends. Honestly, who can resist me?

I have been told by my friends, my enemies, and strangers that I have a large ego, which is the case even in all the known timelines. And why not? I am just that great! Don’t forget that they’re probably jealous of my charm, skills, and good looks that even the women die for!

Those I call my family and friends are dear to my heart and I will not hesitate to fight for and protect them. My loyalty is as fierce as the sun.

If being one of Earthrealm’s protectors can help others and bring me glory, why not kill two birds with one stone?

What is my sign? Leo ♌️

IX. Havik

I know the pain of slavery. I was once tortured and broken by the oppressive rule of my former realm. Having enough, I raised arms against the oppressors and triumphed!

Why would the realms choose to be enslaved to order when true liberation lies in anarchy? I will not stop until all being are brought to the light on what it means to live a life of true freedom! It is our birthright! Hundreds of thousands want this and we will continue to spread this message!

Rebellion. Liberation. Chaos.

What is my sign? Aquarius ♒️

X. Sub Zero (Bi Han)

Power is my destiny. Power is my birthright.

I walk alone. I lead alone. I trust no one, especially those who I deem inferior.

I am cold as ice. Emotional displays are frowned upon. If you try to thwart me, you will feel my anger, be it with a glare or with my fist.

My clan is not meant to serve. Because of my ambition, I have set my clan on the path of glory and domination. I will stop at nothing until I have achieve my goals, even if it means eliminating those who stand in my way, be it family, friend, or foe.

With power, I will amass wealth no one can even imagine. With wealth comes resources to launch my clan to the future. Our clan will pioneer a new race of cyberized warriors that will surpass even the strongest of all the realms.

Power is my destiny. Power is my birthright.

What is my sign? Capricorn ♑️

XI. Reptile (Syzoth)

I am a master of illusion. In this timeline, I am no leader by any means, and I have my share of toiling for others, only when it is necessary to save those I hold dear.

Though I have given of myself to a fault and served either willingly or by force, events seems to go against me, even at the cost of my family. Maybe the supernatural forces have aligned against me and my people to always be subjected to persecution.

It may be strange to some, but I fall in love quickly. Though my family has been taken before their time through deceit, it is time to let them go and move on with my life beside another to serve a higher purpose.

I value freedom and I long to no longer be bound by servitude.

What is my sign? Pisces ♓️

XII. Sindel

Balance. That is what i strive to achieve between my realm and others.

I possess great beauty and power; I also possess wisdom, courage and compassion. Because of my diplomacy, I have been viewed as weak and incapable of ruling my realm.

Though my closest advisors would urge me to conquer other reals through aggressive means because of a prophecy, I hold fast in my stance to maintain peaceful relations until enough proof and evidence of threat have been presented and all facts of Liu Kang’s betrayal have been looked at. Only then will a decision be made.

I never suspected that those who I have trusted as close allies would betray me. Now I will fight to restore peace and protect my people.

What is my sign? Libra ♎️

*****************************************************

Authors Note: I’m sorry for the lack of a Virgo ♍️! I couldn’t sense one among the characters!! I will eventually make a Part 2 for the rest of the characters 😁

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80s4life · 2 years

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Johnny Lawrence With An Egocentric Reader Headcanon

Word Count: 666 (oh shit, we’re summoning a devil)

Status: Requested!

Ask: im sorry that youre going through hard times ;( idk if its easier for you to write headcanons or drabbles but do what makes you feel comfortable. also, didnt ask you if you write for johnny lawrence, but if thats not the im sorry to bother! i wanted to ask you some hc or drabble, its same for me, of johnny x egocentric reader? sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, english is not my native language

@: a cute bilingual anon! (so talented by the way, I have trouble speaking any other language)

Fandom: Karate Kid Series - Cobra Kai

Relationship: Johnny Lawrence x Egocentric!Reader

Warnings: strong language, fluff

Key: All of Johnny’s words are bolded, while Reader’s is left in italics!

Masterlist Karate Kid Masterlist Cobra Kai Masterlist

{gifs are not mine, credits go to @kyrixxx & @filmgifs & @ewan-mcgregor}

So hot, I’m frothing at the mouth

Young Johnny Lawrence:

You met at school, well, he saw you at school, you were too busy fighting the girls and their normal antics.

You were playing soccer with others while Johnny was too busy trying to catch the eyes of various other females as he stripped his shirt.

He tried to find every chance to get to you, and it wasn’t until he purposely slammed right into you with the claim of not seeing you while going to catch a football, did he finally accomplish his goal.

Knocking you to the ground, you easily got pissed and to his dismay, called him out on his bullshit:

“You did that on purpose, you Ass!”

“I didn’t do anything! It was a simple mistake, here let me help you up?”

“No, I got it myself, and stay the hell out of my way!”

From that day on, he was hooked. He didn’t know if it was your dominance and strength or your cutting edge demeanor; either way, he wanted you. BAD.

It was his duty to keep up on this game of cat and mouse, and each time, the blame was pinned on him (rightfully so) and turned away.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“Go torture someone else who’s more into you.”

“Leave me alone!”

It didn’t seem to matter what you did, he would always come back with these huge puppy dog eyes and a grin that could cut glass.

Maybe that’s what made you start to give into his charms?

When you finally allow him into your life, take you on dates and such, he often tries to pester you just to get you fired up. He thinks it’s hot, you think it’s utterly annoying and misleading.

“You’re trying too hard, Lawrence.”

“You’re pushing on the line of clingy.”

“Can I take a breather?”

Either way, you guys soon find a dynamic. Although you may seem self-centered and cruel to most, Johnny knows it’s just a perk that comes with the territory.

Whether this behavior was learned at home or by the way the world works, Johnny loves it and basically basks in it. It makes you tough, and like Sensei Kreese taught him, that’s what you need to survive; a skill Johnny has yet to master.

Older Johnny Lawrence:

As Johnny had aged, he learned the skill of having to fend for one’s self before tending to anyone else. This asset had instantly peaked his interest upon meeting you.

You, getting the job rather easily, tended to the children in the Cobra Kai dojo when class was in session, helping to guide and help instruct every motion the senseis provided.

Like younger Johnny, older version of him also found this very endearing and headstrong, allowing him to feel safe and comfortable around you, knowing you could handle yourself in most situations.

Yes, being egocentric is very selfish or self-regarding, but it works in his world. In a world where John Kreese and Terry Silver reside in, hell, even Daniel Larusso.

However, catch Johnny on a bad day, and that’s his favorite topic to target:

“You always so damn full of yourself?”

“Only when it means warding off self-centered pricks like you. You have stereotypes written all over your forehead!”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Like you have much to say in defense?”

In light of the topic, you’re both egocentric but don’t like to admit it (much to our dismay)

Besides your personalities constantly crashing, they also mesh well, having similar attributes that make you work.

ESPECIALLY when it comes to going head-to-head with Kreese and Silver.

Johnny loves to step back and watch you fire on them, knowing that in the end, you’re seeking comfort for yourself of all things. You don’t let them corrupt you, which keeps making them come back, but Johnny knows where you stand.

You’re loyal, and he couldn’t ask for anything better than a Bad Bitch like you.

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mihrsuri · 5 months

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We sat down with Rupert Graves post Season Three of The Tudors (warning - this discussion will contain huge spoilers for the entire season, particularly the finale).

(Or an in universe Tudors OT3 verse version of The Tudors TV show actor interview. Ellie belongs to @nocompromise-noregrets <3)

So, Norwich is really gone?

Couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person!

I was particularly taken by the way the show uses the historical reports that a range of emotions apparently played across his face as the axe fell to say that he realised exactly how much the monarchs valued Thomas Cromwell?

It was such a bloody good way to frame it as a narrative - so much of his [Norwich’s] self image is tied up in being the smartest person in the room and to have his utter unravelling end with that realisation that he’d never understood at all - it’s fantastic to play as an actor, because you get to just utterly take apart the character. It was also personally just fantastic to see this odious fucker getting what he deserved, to understand just how disgusting and small he is.

I was going to ask you about that, about how it was playing someone who is a monster with a handsome face and charm?

So not just as a father, though that was a huge part of it, but as a human being? It was horrifying - as an actor I don’t feel like I need to justify a characters actions - and here especially, because ultimately my Norwich is a fictionalised version of a real historical person or even to understand it but I did have to ‘get him’ to make it work - I made a lot of visits to Welles Hall - they were fantastic.

A lot of guidance?

Absolutely! Ellie (Dr Eleanor Richardson, Chief Archivist and the discoverer of the Norwich Papers) and Ahmed (Dr Ahmed Rushton-Bridges, historian and author of ‘John Norwich: A Biography’) gave me a tour and an understanding of his diaries - it wasn’t a pleasant subject but they did an incredible job. And it gave me more of a sense of him, especially as a younger man with that sense of entitlement.

Did you visit his town house?

I did. I will say it’s a beautiful space now in theory but the atmosphere in the actual rooms makes your blood run cold, that’s the best way I can put it - they’ve been blessed and cleansed and a thousand and one things but something haunts that place. But it did give me something to draw on, both James and I.

[James Frain who plays Thomas Cromwell, Duke of Essex in the Show] He visited as well?

Yeah actually. We both found it very hard going honestly but we both felt it was very important that we went - for different reasons for playing these people. Afterwards we went and had a cry together - did that a few times throughout the season and then tried to keep it light. My method was that to play this we actually needed to have that trust with each other - to both be able to be safe.

Also shout out to that scene with Norwich and King Henry - though I don’t suppose you could tell us what Henry whispered in his ear?

Johnny (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and I have agreed to take that one to the grave [laughs]. No, it was done in silence and so you only see Henry’s back for a reason - it was actually specifically Jon’s suggestion that the absence of words and faces actually works better for the menace and for this being a ‘historical rumour’ we use in the show [historical note: King Henry VIII did indeed visit The Tower shortly before the Earl was executed but the rumour that he did so to meet with Norwich is simply a rumour] - it also adds to the mystery!

Did you know there were people swooning over your character and the chemistry you and James Frain had?

I know a lot of people don’t know the history - I don’t blame them for that, it’s not something you’re going to cover in school in detail and it’s pretty recent but, no to answer this once and for all - it’s not meant to be sexy. Or if it is it’s meant to make you think about, well, the discomfort of how predators don’t look like predators - they are charismatic, they can be good looking and smart and present themselves like an ex lover - which Norwich genuinely believes and doesn’t make it any more wrong or repulsive.

It is meant to make you look back and see just how uncomfortable Cromwell is, how predatory it is - I know there were people who got it and I’m glad we didn’t…we didn’t present it through Norwich’s narrative. His narrative is there, but it’s not the one the show actually has, I don’t think.

And of course in lots of ways it makes sense that people swooned over Norwich - it’s how he was seen in the world before everything came out! The people who try to defend him after that though, that disgusts me.

I have to say you and Jeremy Irons Norfolk do have a fascinating something going on…

We joked that it was very much a ‘worst recognises worst’ situation but yes, there’s something there - a mutual respect and ‘only one I’m fond of in this world’ which I don’t think either of them expected. So yes, that was absolutely deliberate!

#ot3: political power trio #lil and her ridiculous aus #fic #tudors ot3 verse reference

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asskickedbygirl · 1 year

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Temporary Girl [Johnny Knoxville x F!Reader]

Desc: You become the girl Knoxville calls when he’s lonely in West Chester.

A/n: ngl i liked where this started but don’t really like the end… hmmmm. lmk if you enjoy! surprised this is my first knox fic

Warnings: smut 18+, oral m!receiving, vaginal fingering, p in v

2.6k words

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Of course you were going to fall for his Southern charms. Who wasn’t when he was sweet talking you so nicely, giving you all the attention in the world like you were the only one who earned it? The first time it happened you were on top of the world. Sure he was married, but you figured he’d done this stuff all the time, it’s not like you would make some huge difference. Only now it caused a huge dent in your life, like an asteroid walloping into you.

You knew the guys would look down on you for it, what with being the girl Johnny Knoxville hit up to fuck when he was in West Chester. Even if you were seeing someone at the time you would fold immediately, racing to the man’s hotel room as soon as he called. “You know he has girls all around the country, and now you’ve become his West Chester broad.” Bam would say all serious, like an intervention of some kind. You’d brush him off, “Stop being all dramatic. We both get something out of it.” Bam narrowed his eyes at you, “Really? Cause’ it seems like you guys fuck, you’re all happy and then he leaves and you’re miserable. What are you getting out of that exactly?” You’d get pissed then, because it was true, “Can you just stay out of my business please? Like how I stay out of yours.” Bam shakes his head, getting up to leave. “Well don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again, I’m just trying to be a good friend.” And then he’d take off, leaving you to wallow in his honest words but none of them changed anything.

However, you did think of them pretty often. Maybe you should respect yourself a little more. You didn’t want to be deemed as just the slut he’d call to get himself off, you were as much a part of CKY and Jackass as the rest of the guys. You were the token girl for fuck’s sake! But Johnny was so god damn hot and persuasive that any ounce of self respect was gone the moment the phone rang.

Johnny was in town again, filming for the Fort Knoxville episode of Viva La Bam and after you all wrapped for the day, you found yourself at Kildare’s drinking away and playing pool with the crew. The whole time Johnny acted completely normal with you, cracking jokes like you were just casual pals and maybe you liked it that way, like you were secret even when all of your friends knew about what you’d get up to. Later on into the night, Knoxville called it quits. “I’m exhausted after my flight this morning, I’m off guys.” He did his rounds of goodbyes and physical gestures, even planting a soft kiss on your cheek, like he hadn’t kissed your most private areas like that. And then he was gone without a second to spare, no suggestion that he wanted to fuck.

You hated to admit that it made you pissed, but it did and Bam of course picked up on it. “You’re just in a pissy mood now that lover boy fucked off without you.” You brushed him off again, furrowing your brows. “Shut up Bam.” Bam raised his hands “Why can’t you just admit I’m right? You like being with him, not being his fuck buddy, but that’s all he wants you for. He’s married Y/n.” If you weren’t pissed before, you certainly were now, “You think I don’t know he’s married? Since when do you care about all this shit, you cheat on Jenn all the fucking time?!” Bam nodded his head, “Yeah I know, so I also know how a cheater acts, and he is breaking your heart without giving a single fuck!”

Your fight was interrupted when your cellphone started to ring. Bam narrowed his eyes at you, “You’re only going to get hurt.” You picked up your phone “I’m going to get off thank you.” You flicked it open and answered the call you were praying to get. “Hey sweetheart.” The Southern voice drawled, “I’ve missed you.” Your heart stopped a little, he missed you. You realised the more you thought the more Bam was right so quickly snapped back into smug mode. “I’ve missed you too.” Bam rolled his eyes at your response, getting an idea of the things Johnny was sweet talking you with. “So, you wanna come to my hotel room when you’re finished with the bar?” You looked Bam right in the eyes, “I’m ready to go now actually.” Bam shook his head, biting his lip. “Okay sugar, the room number’s 302, I’ll see ya.” You smiled smugly, “See you in a bit.” With that you shut your phone and stuffed it in your purse. “You know one day you’re gonna hate yourself for not listening to me.” Bam folded his arms. “And I am not gonna be your shoulder to cry on.” You put your hand on his shoulder, “You never were in the first place.” The words stung as you walked away, pretending like you didn’t give a fuck about Bam but you gave many fucks. “Where’s she off to?” Ryan asked Bam as he wandered over to where you had argued. “She’s going off to fuck Knoxville!” He said the last part extra loud so you and everyone else in the bar could hear. You turned your head around before leaving Kildare’s, flipping Bam the bird, and you were gone.

You knocked on Room 302, butterflies swarming in your stomach as if this wasn’t routine at this point. Johnny answered the door in his sweatpants, (interesting choice) with no shirt on and his hair damp, patting it with a towel. “Hey sweetheart.” Johnny smiled, that sweet sickening smile that reminded you of why you were willing to get your heartbroken every time he called. “Hey Johnny.” He leaned in and kissed your cheek just like he had earlier before moving out of the way to let you into the room. “Get the chicken wing stains out yet?” Johnny rolled his eyes, “Haha, very funny. I got new sheets.” You patted the soft bed and sat yourself down on it. Johnny walked over all nonchalant and lifted your chin up with his finger. You flashed him an innocent doe eyed look while he licked his lips. “Pretty girl.” He murmured under his breath as he leaned down and kissed you. Your lips reacted immediately, moving in sync with his but you kept your hands in your lap, awaiting Johnny to initiate what to do like he always did. It was nice letting someone take over completely during sex, you felt needed, wanted. Though maybe someone else would look at that differently.

Johnny pulled away from the kiss and bit his lip while standing up straight. He brushed a piece of hair away from your face and rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb. It became apparent to you that you were basically face to face with his crotch and that the subtle way he pushed your head forward made out what he wanted. You looked at his crotch and then back up to him with those same doe eyes. He sighed contently when you began to pull down his sweatpants and reach your hand down his boxers to pull out his dick. He groaned with pleasure when you came into contact with it. It wasn’t completely hard yet so you spent time jerking him off for a moment to get him to full length. All the while, Johnny had his bottom lip between his teeth, still tracing your cheek with his thumb.

You placed the tip of his dick in your mouth and glanced up at him through heavy lids. He groaned loudly when you took all of him into your mouth, gripping him at the base. You sucked softly, moving up and down his length. “Good girl.” Johnny spoke, his hand now placed on the back of your head, pushing you down ever so gently. The words went straight to your heat and you moaned quietly, the vibrations causing Johnny to moan too. Even when you were sat on Knoxville’s bed, sucking him off like he wanted you to, Bam’s words were circling around your head. Sure you weren’t the first girl to suck Johnny Knoxville’s cock and that was fine, but you probably weren’t even the first girl this week. All that ‘He has sluts all around the country’ talk was getting to you but you swallowed it down, along with your spit that was now pooling, some of it down your chin. Johnny had a firm grip around your hair now, shoving you down so your nose was almost touching the space above his cock. He moaned and groaned as you tried your best to breathe through your nose, eyes beginning to water. “Just a second doll.” Johnny struggled to get out, immersed in his pleasure. After a moment he released you, lines of saliva linking you to his dick still. He tried to wipe the spit off your chin with his thumb but the attempts were pretty much futile, instead you cleaned yourself with the back of your hand.

“God you’re so good to me you know that?” You smiled at him, ‘I wonder how many girls he’s said that to’ the thought was washed down once more. “Come on let’s get this off.” Johnny helped you pull your tank top off, releasing your tits. He lay down on the bed as you unbuttoned your pants, shimmying them off with your panties, leaving you exposed. Johnny had now kicked off his sweatpants and was completely bare in front of you, the sight alone was enough to make you drool. You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. He pulled you to sit on his torso just above his cock, kissing and grabbing at your tits while you let out desperate whimpers. “Have to make sure you’re ready.” He whispered, moving his fingers down to swipe them through your folds. You whined when he let a finger breach into you, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders and raising your hips to allow him to finger you. Johnny watched you with intent as you shut your eyes and whimpered while you let him do whatever he wanted. He slipped another finger in and picked up the pace, stretching you out nicely. You moaned some more, putting on a little show for the man beneath you. You opened your eyes to make contact with his deep set ones, completely blown out with lust. Lust. Not love. Of course. His other hand which had been gripping your waist snaked up to feel your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers for you to make more pleasurable noises. After a moment, Johnny removed his fingers, examining the slick you had left. Out of curiosity, he moved the digits up to your mouth, wanting to see if you would taste yourself. And you did, wrapping your lips around his fingers to suck seductively. Of course you did. You’d do anything he’d say, he didn’t even have to say it.

Johnny smiled smugly, wetting his lips with his tongue. “Too good to me.” He whispered, the words making you release his fingers. He moved his hands back down to your hips and guided you down to his crotch. You looked down and grabbed his length with your hand, moving it to where it needed to be before sinking down slowly. You winced as he entered you, his hands pushing you down to help. “You okay?” He asked, and you simply nodded, “I’m fine.” It became apparent those were practically the only words you had spoken during this whole exchange. You just let Johnny do whatever he wished, no complaints. That was unfair, you wanted this just as much as he did. But maybe not for the same reasons. Johnny reached up and brushed your hair over your shoulder as you began moving back up, setting your own pace. “So pretty.” He murmured, his head foggy with pleasure. You knew the words were simply fillers but that didn’t stop them from going straight to your stomach, the butterflies running rampant. You struggled with going faster like you knew Johnny wanted you to and so he took matters into his own hands. He pulled you down so your tits were now pressed against his chest and he grabbed your ass tightly with both hands. Then he began moving you up and down much quicker as you buried your head into his neck, letting out louder whimpers. At the same rate, Johnny was bucking up into you, the pleasure causing your eyes to water. You felt quite pathetic in that moment. You weren’t able to ride him as well as he needed you to, ‘I bet one of his whores is way better at sex than me.’ This time you didn’t bury the thought, you let it take over. You pushed yourself up so you were sitting again and began moving up and down, this time much quicker. It was harder this way then just letting Johnny do what he wanted but you didn’t care now. Eventually you were bouncing up and down on his cock, small slaps echoing throughout the room. Your moans were louder and more pornographic but you took a lot more pleasure in the contorted look on Johnnys face. “Fuck baby.” He whimpered, his moans almost as pathetic as yours used to be. “I’m so close, can I cum in you?” His breathing was erratic at this point and the way he let you completely take over showed he wasn’t lying. You told him he could, a little resentful at the fact he didn’t remember you were on the pill. Johnny clutched your hips now, holding you down so you were completely sat on his cock before spilling into you with a loud groan.

You smiled smugly as Johnny kept his eyes shut while catching his breath. “Fucking hell sweetheart, I haven’t cum that quickly since high school.” You blushed at the compliment and slowly lifted yourself off of him. Your knees almost gave out while doing so, now you knew your legs would hurt in the morning. He helped you lie down beside him before getting up quickly to get a towel for you. You panted too, content that you had outdone yourself this time. Til you remembered why you decided to push yourself. Your demeanour changed when Johnny returned from the bathroom, towel in hand when he began wiping your heat. “Fuck, did you even get to cum?” Johnny remembered, slowing his movements. “Yeah I finished.” You lied. You didn’t orgasm very often when with Johnny but he didn’t need to know that. He didn’t enquire any further and simply handed you a t shirt of his to sleep in, getting into a fresh pair of boxers himself. He slipped under the covers behind you and assumed the position of big spoon. He kissed your cheek softly. “You’re amazing.” He whispered and you didn’t respond. Simply smiling politely while the man who held you fell asleep soundly.

You didn’t sleep very well that night, your head swimming with Bam’s words once again. You tried not to think of the fact Johnny would be flying out in a couple days, instead revelling in his warmth but that was barely working. You turned over to face Johnny while he slept, admiring his features. You knew how lucky you were to be in the same bed as movie star Johnny Knoxville but it was only temporary. His temporary girl.

End.

@jackussy420 @gnarkillknoxville @lovexjoe @ckygetsjobs

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