Tale E Quale Ad Alex Shepard :D

Tale e quale ad Alex Shepard :D

florence-castle - Peacewalker, the lady who walks into the Peace

Florence Castle's HEROES OF CYBERTRON - Ep. 03: DRIFT

NOTA: Alcune immagini non sono mie, ma vengono dal sito DeviantArt. Articolo scritto da me, con l'approvazione di @jazzluca.

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PUNTATA 3: DRIFT, uno stoico samurai robot

I fan di primo pelo dei Transformers, quando sentono nominare un certo Autobot spadaccino dai tratti orientaleggianti e dal rigido codice d’onore, certamente si domanderanno: ma chi è ‘sto tizio? Ebbene, questo personaggio è stato creato dalla mente di Shane McCarthy e dalla matita dell’italiano Guido Guidi, mossi dall’idea di sapere cosa accadrebbe se un ex Decepticon diventasse un Autobot; nasce così DRIFT, uno spadaccino dall’apparente aspetto angelico per via della prevalenza del bianco nella livrea.

Dal punto di vista etimologico, il suo nome è basato sul “drifting” (cioè “derapare”),tecnica di guida giapponese che molti automobilisti professionisti usano spesso per superare le curve più strette del circuito senza perdere velocità: questo è il motivo per cui il personaggio in esame ha assunto l’altmode terrestre di un’auto sportiva, figlia di un bolide di Fast and Furious e una NASCAR. Nome e altmode a parte, sono le origini da Decepticon a renderlo unico e “stoico”. Infatti, prima di essere il Bot che noi tutti conosciamo e amiamo, Drift si chiamava Deadlock; dapprima uno sfortunato senzatetto che viveva in strada a rubacchiare Energon per sopravvivere, poi fedele guerriero al soldo di Megatron che “combatte contro gli Autobot con una coppia di potenti fucili”, prima di “raggiungere l’illuminazione” grazie ad un pugno di Cybertroniani neutrali del cosiddetto “Circolo della Luce”.

Florence Castle's HEROES OF CYBERTRON - Ep. 03: DRIFT

L’esordio del personaggio risale al 2008 tra le pagine IDW, anche se in quel caso (All Hail Megatron #5) era solo una mera comparsa; per la prima vera apparizione in cartaceo dobbiamo aspettare l’anno seguente, per lo Spotlight: Drift, ma le aspettative sono state tutt’altro che rosee: ciò che leggiamo in queste tavole sembra la bozza di una sceneggiatura scritta troppo in fretta, con situazioni stereotipate scopiazzate a destra e manca e ributtate assieme alla rinfusa. L’effetto pathos e la voglia di leggerne ancora che l’autore, forse, si illude di creare non rivelando tutti gli elementi della storia di Drift non nasce nel lettore. Peccato, però, che non tutti la pensavano in questo modo, tanto che nel 2010 la IDW ha addirittura pubblicato una miniserie dedicata a Drift e sempre scritta da McCarthy. Il tiro è lievemente migliorato, perché questa volta leggiamo le origini del personaggio da rude Decepticon braccato da un feroce cacciatore di taglie, fino a ricevere finalmente l’aspetto che abbiamo imparato a conoscere. Negli anni Dieci del Duemila, nel frattempo, Drift diventa a tutti gli effetti l’Autobot preferito della IDW al punto da ritrovarlo come protagonista nella saga Empire of Stone e poi tra gli Autobot protagonisti di More than Meets the Eye prima e Lost Light poi. Da allora, sfortunatamente, Drift non è più comparso in altri media in quanto personaggio esclusivamente dei fumetti... fino al 2014.

Quell’anno, infatti, segna il suo ritorno in chiave moderna col debutto sul grande schermo negli ultimi capitoli della saga Transformers live action diretta da MichaelBay, ovvero L’Era dell’Estinzione e L’Ultimo Cavaliere! In questo caso, se l’originale omonimo “cartaceo” ricordava in parte un samurai, il Drift bayformer appesantisce il concetto tanto nel look quanto nella parlata: una caricatura di MTMTE ed è pure un Triple Changer, poiché oltre alla modalità di Bugatti Veyron sfoggia anche quella di elicottero. In effetti, Drift è il primo “Tripla Azione” del Movie-verso, considerando i due altmode completamente diversi e non uno ibrido dell’altro. E sebbene sia un’altra caratteristica fondamentale del Drift originale e che sia menzionata nelle Bio dei personaggi, il fatto di essere un ex-Decepticon non viene mai detto nel film. Magari gli sceneggiatori sono partiti da Springer (famoso Autobot nel brand armato di spada e con due altmode proprio di auto ed elicottero) per creare il personaggio che poi è divenuto Drift. Guerriero giapponese a tutti gli effetti, seppur stereotipato fino al midollo, e con una nuova livrea nera e blu con tocchi dorati... per poi diventare rosso e nero e con l’altmode di Mercedes AMG GT R nel successivo capitolo della saga di Bay.

Ovviamente non possiamo non menzionare delle brevi particine in altri universi TF. Ad esempio, per la serie Animated, c’è un Drift nel volume The Complete AllSpark Almanac del 2010, sebbene il suo design somigliante a Blurr/Cheetor non piacesse al padre della serie in persona, Derrick J.Wyatt. Due anni dopo, riappare nell’universo speculare Shattered Glass nei panni di un guerriero sempre pronto a “spazzare via quegli invasori che osano varcare la soglia del suo universo”. Quest’ultima versione, inoltre, nasconde una piccola, divertente curiosità: Drift è stato per la prima volta descritto dalla Fun Publications (cioè la casa proprietaria dell’officiale Club dei Collezionisti Transformers e della Convention ad essa dedicata) come “il Bot chiacchierone”. Infatti, se il G1Drift è un “oscuro ninja” cauto, silenzioso e prudente, lo Shattered Glass è letteralmente il suo esatto opposto; un folle mercenario, appunto, che è solito rompere la quarta parete spesso e volentieri esattamente come l’(anti)eroe più pazzo e degenerato della Marvel, Deadpool!

Nella primavera del 2015, in occasione dell’arrivo della nuova serie animata successiva a Prime, Drift esordisce anche in TV in Robots in Disguise, più precisamente nel dodicesimo episodio della Stagione 1, intitolato La Stagione di Caccia: qui la squadra di Bumblebee si ritrova ad affrontare il noto robot-samurai e la sua nemesi, il Decepticon Fracture, impegnati ad aggiudicarsi la taglia che l’Alto Consiglio ha posto sulla testa di Bee dopo la sua irruzione in un certo museo su Cybertron. Solo cinque episodi dopo, Si è Perso un Minicon!, si assiste al suo ingresso permanente nel Bee Team, diventando uno degli Autobot principali del cast. Curiosamente, in questa serie, Drift ha mantenuto sì il look da samurai, ma più edulcorato e con un’inedita combinazione di arancione/nero/rosso che ironicamente era il primo schema cromatico usato nei primi concept art della sua controparte cinematografica. In realtà, troviamo diverse parti in comune tra i due Drift: in primo luogo, usano lo stesso codice d’onore personale in combattimento, quindi condividono quella magica aura stoica che rende entrambi i personaggi “mistici”; in secondo luogo, l’altmode del RiD Drift ricorda una Bugatti Veyron, appunto lo stesso veicolo nel quale si trasformava la sua controparte filmica; infine, il rapporto tra lui e Bumblebee è simile sia nel cartone che nel film, in quanto hanno pareri contrastanti su leadership, strategia e combattimento tali da far nascere in loro una lieve rivalità. Ciononostante, si comportano come dei buoni compagni di squadra tanto sul campo di battaglia quanto fuori.

Ben più innovativa è la controparte Cyberverse del 2018/19, in cui il personaggio intraprende un vero e proprio percorso di transizione: questa, infatti, è indubbiamente la prima versione di Drift a essere sempre stata un Decepticon, rompendo la tradizione dei suoi predecessori permanentemente radicati alla fazione degli Autobot. Esteticamente Deadlock appare come una versione modificata del G1 Springer di Guido Guidi – seppur con alcune differenze quali la posizione del simbolo Decepticon e la cabina dell’altmode sul petto – mentre Drift è identico in tutto e per tutto all’omonimo G1 salvo per licenze stilistiche minori (i piedi che assomigliano alle calzature tradizionali giapponesi simili alle nostre infradito, per esempio).

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Come promesso dai rumor susseguitisi durante la sua creazione e apparizione nei fumetti, anche Drift è stato riprodotto come modellino: il primo di una lunga serie ha inaugurato la linea Generations del 2010, quest’ultima allo scopo di proseguire idealmente lo stile delle precedenti Classics ed Universe 2.0. In altmode questo Deluxe si presenta come un ibrido tra una Nissan Silvia S15 e una Mitsubishi FTO e, nel complesso, è fedelissimo al design di Guidi, ogni dettaglio è riprodotto superbamente! Altmode dalla colorazione tamarra come poche, un robot che strizza l’occhio a tutti i Gundam dal ‘91 in poi, per tacer dello spadone à la Final Fantasy con tanto di kanji... due dei quali sono presenti anche sulle portiere del veicolo, tra l’altro! Di questo bestione sono susseguite altre ristampe e recolor: due Takara United (un Drift e un Blurr simili ai rispettivi Generations ma con una colorazione più fedele alle controparti cartacee), lo Shattered Glass Timeline in esclusiva per il Club dei Collezionisti, il Blurr dell’Hasbro Platinum Edition... e infine Deadlock, uscito per la linea Takara Legends.

Per il Drift bayformer, dobbiamo aspettare il 2014 per l’inedita linea del quarto film di Bay – linea che, ripetiamo, non è mai arrivata in Italia. Il Deluxe è squisitamente pregevole e ben articolato, nonostante la colorazione prevalentemente sul blu che con la controparte CG quasi non centra nulla; tuttavia, il Takara Movie Advance e l’Hasbro Platinum Edition compensano con una show accuracy migliore, mentre il modellino per la successiva linea The Last Knight è solo leggermente riscolpito e ricolorato per assomigliare al “nuovo” Drift vestito da Mercedes. Per la successiva linea celebrativa Studio Series (2019/20), viene ripresentato il modellino di cui sopra ma con una livrea molto più somigliante alla controparte cinematografica. Inoltre, abbiamo già detto che Drift è il primo effettivo Triple Changer, ma purtroppo gli addetti ai lavori non sono riusciti a replicare la cosa tra i modellini, nonostante ne esista uno a parte per la modalità di elicottero... che però è il remold di Dark of the Moon Skyhammer. Stesso discorso per il Drift elicottero della Studio Series, anch’esso remold pesante di Bumblebee (2018) Dropkick.

Anche nella linea Robots in Disguise (2015) Drift ha ricevuto millemila trattamenti. Dall’One-Step al Legion, fino al 3-Step Changers, passando poi a un Warrior da applausi e un interessante ma mediocre Deployer... sì, perché questa versione di Drift è accompagnata da Minicon, anch’essi con un look tra il samurai e il ninja: Jetstorm è quello in nero e armato di nunchuck, omonimo tanto del Generale dei Vehicon jet di Beast Machines quanto del gemello blu di Animated Jetfire. Slipstream è invece quello in rosso e armato di naginata, un omonimo questa volta del clone femminile di Animated Starscream (che solo nelle reincarnazioni più recenti è diventato un personaggio autonomo). Inoltre, il solo Warrior Drift ha ben quattro versioni (escludendo la canonica Hasbro), tra cui un Origins Drift della Takarae un Alpine Strike della Hasbro che raffigurano il personaggio con un look reminiscente alla controparte IDW G1.

Di tutt’altro stampo, invece, sono i Warrior della linea Cyberverse, che rappresentano rispettivamente l’incarnazione Decepticon e Autobot del personaggio. Nonostante i due modelli si somiglino per colore e scultura dell’altmode, i robot hanno una diversa morfologia e gimmik d’attacco, oltre al fatto che Drift è dotato di articolazioni ai polsi. Non saranno i modellini più belli della linea, ma di sicuro rendono giustizia a un Bot pesantemente sottovalutato dalla maggior parte delle masse!

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CONCLUSIONE

Drift passerà sicuramente alla storia non solo per il fascino del suo look ispirato al paese del Sol Levante tanto amato da noi occidentali, ma anche per il carisma del personaggio raffigurato che sfocia fra l’anonimo e il conosciuto. Certo, le incarnazioni avute con gli anni sono diversissime ma tutte sono state coerenti e rispettose nei confronti del capostipite IDW. Un caso più unico che raro, detto francamente, e mi fa piacere vederlo in uno dei miei (ennesimi!) Bot preferiti. 😅

Arrivederci alla prossima puntata! 😘

following the river

summary: almost a frame-by-frame fanfic of river's scene in-game, but better :3 ish!! an- guys i am so fucking sorry i haven't posted in fucking AGES i've been absolutely dogged with work n shit and i'm depressed as fuck. anyway. here's to my loyal river fans (all twelve of us) hashtag justice for river ward ive literally spent months on this for no reason warnings- smut (18+ mdni), cowgirl, first time, you're both nervous as fuck, multiple positions, switch!v, switch!river, fucking the police, johnny ment, oral (f receiving and very brief lol), missionary, mild angst with cavity-inducing sweetness at the end, river and v are very much in love, cuddles

wc: 9.2k

If you had told yourself you’d be spending the night with an NCPD badge a month ago, you woulda’ laughed in your very own fuckin’ face. But between those heated kisses and those soft, hushed whispers, River Ward leads you by the hand into the silence of his bedroom— and it all feels far too unreal.

But the truth is, reality is a bitch. And now here you are, tangled in a contradiction of your own making. Guess you misunderstood the whole “FUCK THE POLICE” thing.

He oughtta be chasing you down, not holding you close. But fuck, this whole situation with River is just so thrilling, and it’s absolutely undeniable that he’s more than just some badge.

There’s kindness, there’s goodness in him that transcends that old, dumbass uniform he used to wear. Night City may be bleeding, and Johnny Silverhand may be a relentless presence in your head, but River offers something more—a promise of a future beyond the consistent chaos as he leads you into the quietness of the trailer.

To be honest, you’re not sure if you’re entirely in love with River— sure, you’re attracted, and sure, your heart beats a million times faster when he’s around, and sure, you think about him all the fucking time, but shit, you don’t know love. But fuck, whether you deserve it or not, there’s just something about him, you don’t know what feels… safe.

River represents something you’ve never really had: hope. The hope for a promise of an actual future— a real-ass life. Not just surviving but living— happily, at that.

And for tonight, that’s enough.

Never before have you encountered someone as gentle, as fucking sweet as River. His kindness, his sincerity, it's like a lifeline amid chaos. But with each tender moment, each stolen kiss, you can't shake the gnawing feeling of guilt eating away at you. Oh, how you don’t want to feel this way, but here you are regardless, falling and falling for River, and allowing yourself to embrace the sensation of being vulnerable in more ways than one. And oh— is it such a bad time to catch feelings; your time on this earth is limited.

You’re a merc, one with a ticking timebomb of a narcissistic rockerboy lodged into your head, just waiting to take over your body, waiting for you to finally kick the bucket so he can take control. You’re not exactly girlfriend material. You’re neither beautiful nor are you admirable. You are tired. You are bruised.

You're a mercenary, a killer by trade, and here you are, falling for a cop—a man dedicated to upholding the law you so often break.

You know you should push River away, distance yourself before it's too late. But goddamn it, you can't bring yourself to do it.

It’s almost funny, you think. Funny to have found a love oh-so-precious—oh-so beautiful, only to have it ripped away from you by a little piece of plastic nestled in your skull. River’s warmth, his unwavering support, it's all both a blessing and a curse. You desperately want to hold onto this love, to cherish every moment you have left, but the knowledge that your time is running out gnaws at your very soul.

You sigh. Fuck, you know you can’t think about this now— you know it’s best to enjoy the moment rather than to trouble yourself with the moral implications of it all right now. You’ll destroy yourself otherwise.

And little do you know, but River’s thoughts are mirroring your own. He's fucking scared, terrified of the way you've woven yourself into the fabric of his life. As a detective, he's seen the darkest corners of Night City, the horrors that lurk in the shadows. But when it comes to you, he's lost, unsure of how to navigate the maze of emotions that swirl within him.

You're the very embodiment of everything he's sworn to protect the city against. And yet, he can't help but fall for you. Behind the walls you've erected to shield yourself from the world, he sees the vulnerability, the genuine warmth that draws him to you like a moth to a flame. But there's a part of him that fears the truth, that fears what he might discover if he delves too deep into your world. And as you stand together in the silence of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but wonder if this fragile bubble of happiness is destined to burst, leaving nothing but broken pieces in its wake.

The linoleum floor creaks beneath your steps as River leads you further, navigating the narrow hallway. Anxiety continues to brew within him—shit, he just hopes you like him back.

He hopes his choice is right. He hopes he made the right choice by bringing you around.

But all of the chaos, all the fear building within, completely evaporates away when his eyes finally meet yours, his anxiety dissipating into nothingness. Tonight, all he wants is for the two of you to be one, where nothing in the world matters. It makes everything else seem so distant and minuscule, and that, oh, it’s the closest thing to heaven that he’s ever known.

Nothin’ else matters—except for the moment.

River pauses at one of the entryways, silently gesturing to his niece and nephew, sleeping peacefully. You understand what he’s communicating to you immediately.

You two need to be quiet tonight.

Tonight is the perfect time to forget that you’re a mercenary and he’s a cop. No badges, no guns, no uniforms—and no parasitic rockstar in your head, either. Just you and him.

So you nod your head in acknowledgment as you ease past the kids and follow him into the silence of his bedroom. Your stomach flutters in your chest; oh, fuck, you feel like a couple of giddy-ass teenagers.

You’re relentless, in all the right ways. Your desperation to feel River, to kiss him— it’s intoxicating. Once the door clicks shut, you immediately rise up on your tippy-toes with zero hesitation to press your lips against his; you could do nothing else.

Fucking finally.

One kiss, and you know you’re addicted to the taste of his lips on your own. You know then, that nothing else could give you such a natural high. You must confess, that your thoughts are impure, and the fire is burning within your bones. Shit, it excites you so much, just the idea of riding him absolutely senseless— you’re gonna fuck away his entire moral compass by the end of the night.

It’s as your lips press together, with all the desire arousal, and heat you have to offer, a wave of cruel exhaustion washes over you as River embraces you, finally making its way to the forefront of your mind. His warmth almost feels like a blanket, of sorts, soft and comforting.

A soft pleased hum escapes River’s lips as he presses himself against you, moving his hands to grip the back of your head tightly, returning your kiss with the same raw passion. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his body pressing against yours— fuck, it feels so nice to be held by a body that feels like home.

And for once, it's not Johnny who takes over your thoughts, but River. You need him—now. The heat of his lips on yours is fucking intense. It's like everything else in the city fades away, and for once, even Johnny’s presence is just a distant buzz in your mind.

And all there is, that's all that matters—River, you, and the rest warmth of his lips pressed against yours.

Your fingers claw at the fabric of his tank top, holding onto him tightly as you kiss him with every ounce of passion that’s been building up within you for entirely too long. You’ve wanted this—you’ve fucking needed this, needed to feel the warmth of another in a world so dauntingly cold.

Every breath feels new, every sensation is amplified, and all you can focus on is River. River, River, River. He’s real, and you feel him like never before. He’s yours, and you’re his.

Your breath is getting shorter, and your thoughts are being consumed with just one word: more. More, more, more. You need to feel his love.

How good it feels to have something real. And fuck, is it nice to have something else on your mind except for your impending and unavoidable death. No Johnny, no Arasaka, no Relic. Just you. Just him. Just two desperate people wanting desperately to cling to the idea of feeling alive for just one night.

You practically moan into his mouth as you lean back, letting his strong, secure arms wrap around your body. You press your body up into his, craving his warmth, craving his presence, craving him. It’s like you’re slipping into a deep trance-like state, one where all that matters in this very instant is River, this one fucking detective, this one stupid badge.

“River,” you whine quietly. “I need you.”

The words slip out before you even have time to stop them, the sound of them leaving your ears ringing.

Fuck, does he feel like the luckiest person alive when you utter those little words, the sound of them barely audible against the city’s distant hum? For such a tough merc, you sound so cute—so needy, that it makes his heart jump in his chest. It’s such an unexpected, quick change for you, and you swear you catch his mechanical eye shining a little brighter as his rough hands graze against your hips. His body presses tightly against yours, lowering his voice to a whisper that makes your tummy flutter.

“Shhh… I know ya do, V…”

The words feel so foreign slipping from his lips, but god, he can’t help it. River leans even closer to you until you can feel the warm breath of his body tingling inside your ear—his lips press up against your neck softly, trailing little wet kisses up and down the sensitive skin there.

“Just let go…”

River whispers again, moving his hand down your back and caressing the skin that he can feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. His lips flutter up and down along your neck, nibbling gently on your skin. Rough, calloused hands trace down your body, before pulling your hips to his so there’s no space between you.

River’s voice turns deep; husky.

“Just let go of everything but me…”

After all, he’s done for the city, for the world, no one has ever wanted him in such a way that they wanted him, not just his title, his body, but the person behind the piercing glow of his mechanical eye.

River’s ganic hand trails gingerly up and down your torso, his fingers playing gently with the fabric of your shirt as his lips press against your neck. The delicate sensation sends ripples of pleasure through your core— fuck— you’re getting wet.

His words trigger an immediate response from you. Excitedly, you push back against him as you moan quietly in his ear, fingers digging into the fabric of his red tank top— breath halting in your chest, growing shorter and more agitated. You raise on your tippy toes, attempting to return the favor by kissing his neck.

As you push yourself forward, pressing yourself against him, pushing a hand behind his neck, your fingers grip tight along the back of his neck. Slowly, you brace one hand on his chest, your thumb rubbing along the hard muscle that hides below his shirt, your other hand falling to fidget with the neckline of his tank.

You can feel it— he’s muscular; he’s strong and hard. He’s aboutta be all yours, and the thought alone makes you feel weak, weak in the knees with how hot he is.

When you’re slipping your hands below his shirt to feel the skin beneath, River’s steadiness finally falters. Unknowingly, he backs up into his desk, causing an empty beer bottle to topple over— crashing to the floor in the silence of the trailer.

Fuck.

For a brief moment, panic seizes over your entire being. Shit. Your heart pounds in your chest, shit, shit, shit— what if you woke everyone up with the crash? What if he’s upset with you for pulling such a gonk move, fuckin’ shoving him into his desk? What about the mess?

You swear you’re doomed.

But to your surprise, River's expression softens, a hint of amusement dancing in his mechanical stare. Was his amn fault for being so clumsy, anyway.

When the warmth of his lips caress yours, you feel a deep wave of relief. Thank fuck— you think to yourself as you realize that your actions didn’t cause all hell to break loose.

Instead, he’s too amused by your excitement, and that only serves to turn you on all the more. Hell— River finds it adorable how badly you want him. He can deal with the mess later. He’s too lost in you, too lost in the tide of passion to give a shit. Instead, his focus is entirely on you, and all rational thought is overshadowed.

His hands find their way to either side of your face, his touch gentle yet possessive, as if he's determined to memorize every curve and contour of your face. River stops, an urgent whisper, his voice barely above a breathy murmur.

“You've got me. Don't let go. Don't let this moment, this feeling—this feeling of you and me, don't let it end.”

But before you can even process the full weight of River’s words, his lips crash into yours with a fervor that leaves you breathless. It’s like a tidal wave, consuming you with its intensity, and you find yourself melting into his embrace without hesitation. You’re safe.

In turn, you respond eagerly, matching his passion with your own, hands roaming freely across his back, pulling him closer with every passing moment. River hums to himself when your smooth lips part upon the brush of his tongue against you— feeling just right. You feel a surge of electricity coursing through your veins, fueling that consuming lust that just keeps on burning brighter and hotter in your lower tummy.

You guide his strong hands, urging him to explore every inch of your being, to revel in the depths of your desire as you surrender yourself completely to the intoxicating bliss of the moment. You need him. The feeling of his sends shivers down your spine, you realize that this—this connection, this unspoken bond—is what you've been searching for all along. In River's arms, you find solace. In his kiss, you find passion. And in that little bit of love between you, you find home.

Like you, River’s mind has started to go hazy, his body filled with heat as he pulls you in tighter, desperate to feel everything at once.

The embrace of your lips turns heated, desperate, his teeth brushing against your bottom lip. Shit, he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you like this— he feels like the luckiest fucker in the world. The heat rising in his body is nothing short of intense, it feels so right.

But he needs more.

River pulls away to break the kiss, his gaze slides across your body, admiring you silently, taking note of every little curve, burning through you, silently admitting how lucky he is. Oh, how he never realized desire could be so engulfing until this moment, with you staring right up into his eyes with a vulnerability he cannot ignore. It makes him feel fuckin’ stupid— like he could live in this moment forever.

His movements are slow and deliberate. It's enough to send your heart pumping, your chest heaving, your breath coming in short gasps. When you meet his steely gaze, it feels like his mechanical eye is bearing into your soul.

River moves a palm up to cup your cheek lovingly, before nodding his head in the direction of his bed— a silent command. You immediately know what he’s attempting to communicate. You know what comes next.

And you’re just dying to see it through.

A little rush of pure excitement overtakes you as you rush to the bed, while River turns around for a brief moment. Without a second thought, without any semblance of hesitation, you’re immediately beginning to fumble with the straps of your gear, allowing it to fall all to the ground. Every movement of yours feels like a wave of electric pulsing through your body, a rush of adrenaline that leaves you panting— leaving your mind blurry with need.

While he’s got his back turned, you rip off your sweats, letting them fall to the ground. Immediately after, you’re ripping off the thin tank you’re wearing, slipping your bra right off with it, fully exposing your bare chest to the coolness of the night air. A little excited shiver runs down your spine, your nipples perking up and stiffening as a result of the temperature drop.

And before you know it, you’re almost naked— wearing nothing but a soaked, think pair of panties, wanting him, needing to have him—not Johnny, but River, just River…

You catch the soft mechanical glow of his eye in the mirror on the closet door. For a brief moment, your breath catches in your throat.

The glow in the reflection dims as he stares. Your heart beats so fast you feel dizzy from the rush. You know he’s watching you just as you’re watching him. And without saying a word, you both know what you want— he finally turns around.

Fuck—you, the most dangerous mercenary in the whole fuckin’ city, is laying before this dumbass detective, wearing nothing but your panties. And oh, you’re so helplessly wet over some cop to the point where you can already feel the moisture soaking through them. You can’t control yourself, you can’t control the way your fingers keep on trailing lower, beginning to push away the dampened strip of fabric in between your legs.

A breath breaks from your mouth as you toss your panties aside. It’s sudden, a bit of a surprise even. But you’re done wasting time. The air feels cold on your exposed cunt, but fuck, you don’t care—besides, the heat he’s making you feel is enough to keep ya’ warm.

Gently, your lips tremble with each passing moment... your body is fuckin’ craving him more and more with every moment that passes with him staring directly at your messy pussy. You can’t take it. You allow yourself to be completely vulnerable, your arms trailing behind you as he draws near. Your eyes flutter as you anticipate him being near, letting him take you completely... letting him take you in.

River’s eyes are locked onto your body— he’s in shock. Fuck. Jesus Christ, every second you’re up looking at him with pathetic, needy eyes makes his cock tremble in his pants. Both of River’s eyes, amber and mechanical pierce through you, just craving you in ways he's never craved fuckin’ anyone. And oh, you love the euphoric burning feeling that rises in your tummy when you feel him stare. A little blush settles across your face, you feel some wetness slide down from your aching cunt. You arch your back a little as River approaches you.

Fuck. You can’t wait. You reach out, pulling your fingers tight around his hips as you pull him down to the bed with you. You can't wait another second to be with him and you pull him down with you on the bed. Before he can even process what’s happening, you’re beginning to lift his tanktop, and by Christ, you’re not disappointed when you finally reveal what’s underneath.

You’re not religious, but in the darkness of his bedroom, you’ve found something holy. Immediately, your eyes trail down, taking note of every little freckle and scar that litters his tan skin. Fuck— he’s perfect. You press your lips against his chest, trailing little wet kisses down his body... each kiss burning into both of you, each kiss driving you both that much closer to desperation. You’re unaware of the self-restraint he's exercising to keep himself from pushing you onto the bed and just fucking you right then and there. River’s working every ounce of self-control he has as you trail your lips down his chest, letting each kiss linger just enough to tease him.

In the dark room, you worship him with your touch, with a love that’s so undoubtedly wrong.

Your eyes drift up to his, and it’s over for you both. Gently, you slide your hands slooowly down River’s torso, making him squirm as your hand trails lower and lower, fingers beginning to move to slowly undo his pants. And fuck, It takes him every little bit of lasting resistance and strength he has to let you touch without intervening.

But shit— you aren’t gonna let River off that easy, no fucking way. You’re gonna fuckin’ savor this—every second of it all. Your lips trail down his clothed thigh with a subtle grin, wrapping your fingers around the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling them down inch by inch. He wants you to pull them off immediately but you're going slow, savoring every little cute expression he’s pulling, savoring the way he bites into his lip, hard.

River’s getting more and more frustrated by the second but damn you're just enjoying the thrill of it all, watching your most favorite detective bend to your whims like an obedient, well-trained dog. You're teasing him and savoring each and every second of it, every little moment of him letting out pathetic heavy sighs, every moment of his cock straining against the fabric of his jeans.

But you’re growing impatient.

You begin to tug at his waistband, attempting to pull his jeans down his thighs with a not-so-secret smug-ass grin. You’ve got him wrapped around your fuckin’ finger, you feel confident—you’re gonna fuck the badge outta him— you’re gonna ride him till the goddamn sun rises.

But when his cock springs free from the confines of his pants, your ego is absolutely fucking wiped. He’s fucking huge.

Prominent veins run up the side of the thick shaft throbbing with pure anticipation. Your eyes trail up to the leaky, swollen tip where little beads of precum threaten to spill. Pure perfection. Everything about your actions up until now has been so confident and so sure, so controlled and so certain you could handle anything. But now that he's here— that he's out, free, and soooo clearly ready for you — you feel an intense wave of doubt.

You're the best, most badass fuckin’ merc in all of Night City—and yet here you are, with his dick in front of your face and you're speechless. River’s enjoying how you're staring at him, your eyes fixated on his shaft. Secretly, he loves the brief sense of control this is giving him, even with you on top. Fuck, it does good for his ego.

By Christ— he finds your reaction to his size nothing short of fucking adorable. River gives a sharp inhale through his teeth and his lips curve into a mischievous smile, his ego swelling with the realization that he's a lot more than you expected...and he loves it. He knows all the right words to say, all the right tones to take, and he knows exactly how to play with you, right down to the way you're staring at him.

Nonetheless, you set your thoughts aside as you mount the detective’s strong bronze thighs, his eyes locking onto yours.

You briefly question your safety as you tenderly wrap your fingers around the base of his thick shaft, feeling him jolt beneath you.

But it's okay. You've got this. You can do this. You take a deep breath and try to ignore the size, your hands still stroking him gently, your touch sending shivers of anticipation up and down his body…

His hand wraps around your thigh in silent reassurance, a giant grasp that feels like it was molded entirely for you to fit perfectly into it; and the other falls to your hip, slowly tracing a path across your bare skin. The little gesture sends you fucking wild. River needs you to be comfortable.

You press the tip of his cock against your dripping entrance, a little shiver runs through you when River stifles a groan underneath.

This all feels so right, this all feels so real, and River wants you to know that. He wants to take all of your fears and worries away, to show you that he's got you, and he's here for you. And when you take your first tentative slide onto him, the tip entering you, River’s jaw hangs agape, a little squeak leaving your lips as the thick head enters you.

You both recognize the need to be silent, and so for now the only sounds in the room are the soft moans and subtle whimpers coming from River's mouth as he's pressed against you...as you're pressed against him, two bodies entwined, one in the other. Nothing else exists at this very moment but this feeling... the intense, overwhelming feeling of his heavy cock throbbing inside of your tight walls. And oh, does the thought of making this dumbass detective whimper and struggle beneath you motivate you all the more.

When you finally sink down, filling yourself to the brim, a cute little gasp! is forced from your parted saliva-coated lips. River’s stretching you out so so nicely— it’s a sweet type of burn. You dig your teeth into your bottom lip hard, biting back a pathetic moan as your eyes scrunch shut.

A low growl escapes River’s lips as you suddenly take him whole in one go.

Your wet walls constrict and clench around him, your achy, needy clit pressing against his groin. Oh fuck, it’s hard for him not to start moving his hips, to just start thrusting into your pathetic mess of a pussy without mercy. But no, he’s waiting for you, waiting for you to guide the speed. This is your night, it’s River’s chance to show how much he fuckin’ adores you.

He's big— and you know you need to take it slow at first. But fuck, you’re not gonna stop, not now, not ever, not when he’s looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes upon— it’s sending little waves of euphoric bliss throughout your entire body.

River watches you take another deep breath before you begin to raise your hips again, pumping yourself full despite the stretch.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. You continue this rhythm slowly, taking your own sweet time to thoroughly feel each inch of his sweet cock rubbing against your soaked walls.

In, out. In, out. You continue this rhythm.

You work through that burn— you work through the pain of the stretch. Take your own sweet time, inhaling, exhaling, breathing in between each movement, each wave of pleasure that ripples through your body with each bounce. Soon, you no longer feel the pain that comes with each slide down; you’ve melded to the shape of his cock.

Shit, he underestimated you.

River’s breathing heavily now, huffing and biting into his lip—as he takes his time, taking care of you. And the moment he finds your rhythm, he won't be letting up even for a second, he’s gonna make you suffer just the damn same.

But when you begin to speed up your pace, suddenly slamming your hips down into him, you’ve got him locked.

Then and there, River swears he’s in fucking heaven.

You’re so tight— so fucking soft… so fucking heavenly, that he can’t do anything except look up at you and purely just admire as you struggle to take him—as he himself struggles to keep up with the pace of your hips.

River’s pussywhipped already, turning his head to the side to hide the adorable little faces he’s pulling.

But fuck, you’re not gonna let that happen.

“Look at me,” you whisper into the silence of the night. You force his jaw upwards, wrapping your hands around his throat. “Only me, Riv.”

River’s caught off guard by your sudden display of dominance; but oh, how he loves it regardless. ‘Looks like his little mercenary finally gained the courage to take control,’ he thinks to himself.

You catch a little mischievous glimmer in his mechanical eye, shining into the darkness. He’s enjoying this, you can tell.

You stare into his gaze for just a brief moment; almost mesmerized, before suddenly pulling his face to yours and kissing him fiercely, your tongue slipping into his mouth.

River’s strong grip on your thigh releases as his body begins to tremble underneath you; it all just feels too fucking good. It’s all too too much, the intensity of your hips rocking back and forth, the way you’re squeezing him and bouncing on his dick like it’s nothing compared to before.

He knows you’re a merc, knows you’re a tough girl. You’re V— you don’t take shit from anyone, you take the reigns no matter what; he shoulda’ expected this from you. But oh, how he loves being bested by his lil’ merc.

River’s eyes roll back as he holds you tightly to him, his hands moving up to your lower back and supporting you, he’s lost all self-control, and can’t stop what's about to happen as his breath grows heavier, lips parting. You’re fucking wet, clenching so so tight around him—he can’t help the groan that juuusst barely escapes his lips…

But luckily for you, you cover his mouth just in time, your body still moving with such intensity. You're taking total control here, not letting him make a sound. You cover his mouth before he has the chance to protest, silencing him in an almost aggressive, dominating way, your breath hot against his lips.

At this moment, the detective is yours. Every muscle in his body belongs to you and every beat of his heart is for you. River is yours, he needs you, and when you cover his mouth, you can feel the rush going through his throat as it contracts with an effort to muffle any sound he might unintentionally let slip as your hips refuse to relent.

The feeling of control that you've been so desperately seeking is finally yours, all yours, your hands are on the wheel— and you’re the one sending this poor fucker into a tailspin of pleasure and lust. River feels so much better than you possibly could’ve imagined, and shit, you’ve finally accomplished your goal to fuck him senseless, leaving him a complete and utter mess in your control — a mess that feels so good, as you keep pumping against him, feeling him inside you.

Every movement you make is met with his equally intense counter-response, his cock beginning to throb. Fuck. He’s close.

But River’s not going to let you get ahead of him— nuh-fucking-uh. He’s had enough of your teasing; he can’t take it anymore— he’s not about to let himself cum before you, not when there’s so much fun still left to be had. He’ll drive himself to the edge— and he’ll take you with him.

Strong hands take hold of your hips, hammering his hips into your sweet, messy cunt at the pace he desires. Just like that, all the control in your hands, all that dominance, and power beforehand, is gone in an instant.

He wants to let you ride him, he really does. Wants to let you take control— but fuck, it’s not enough. He needs more, not just to ride, but to have you in his arms, and in return, you let him take control and show you exactly how he feels for you.

And so you give up your control, giving up your dominance, allowing River to manhandle you into position, guiding you to the edge of the bed. Your breath catches in your chest as River trails his lips down to your collarbone and slowly reaches down to latch onto your nipple. You dig your teeth into your lip as he suckles at it tenderly, keeping your reaction a secret as you try to keep it together. Inside of you, you feel your tummy flutter with adrenaline as your heart rate picks up.

He knows you’re enjoying this, but oh, he’s got other plans for you.

With strong yet gentle hands, he’s hoisting you up into his arms. His amber eye meets yours, and he’s gazing at you like you’re the most precious thing in the whole world. He lifts you, and you let yourself go limp in his hold— you know you’re safe, after all.

You bury your head into his neck, pressing tight against him as you cling like your life depends on it. Everything feels so good when you’re in River’s arms when he loosens his grip to trail a path of wet kisses down the center of your chest. The way he feels so warm and safe makes you feel like the whole world isn’t crumbling down on you— instead, it feels like you can finally rest.

Honestly, it’s just entirely him that makes you feel this way. He’s a stark contrast to any of your past lovers; a genuine shining light in a world so filled to the brim with darkness, a genuine positive change compared to the ways apparent in all of your exes.

Shit, you know Johnny’s gonna hate you even more for this, but you know you love this— you love River.

Before you can think about it for any longer than you already have, he’s cutting your thoughts short to pull you to your feet, pinning you against the cool glass of his bedroom window.

Fuck, you’re adorable to him. River just can’t help but slide his palms up against your soft skin, all the way up to cup at your titties, cupping them softly in each hand.

You let out a sharp gasp as he slips in, a deep inhale following quickly after— his hips pressing into your ass. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as you cling to the cool glass of the window. You want him close, you want to feel him all against you. Your thoughts fill with nothing but him, and his cock begins to roll into you again, forcing a pathetic little squeak out of you.

But there’s a sudden thought that pops into your head— shit, what if someone sees this, sees you, pressed against the window, getting your insides rearranged like there’s no tomorrow? Fuck.

Shit, you feel more vulnerable than ever with River pressing himself into you, hands locked around your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear as he drives himself deeper into your sopping cunt. Him, the detective, fucking the brains outta’ a dangerous lil’ merc like you. Shit, it’s so thrilling that the thoughts in your head disappear entirely, and you're completely overcome with the sensation of his thick member moving in and out of you.

God damn. Your breath becomes shallow and your chest is rising and falling with every hard press of his hips into your ass. You're literally pressed against the glass with your face to the window, your eyes beginning to close.

Even though your brain screams for common sense, your body craves otherwise.

Oh god, you love this. Fuck your common sense. Fuck whatever Johnny has to say about it— you’ll deal with him later.

You feel like you're falling into a trance, drowning in pleasure. Every thrust fills you with more and more heat and waves of pleasure, overwhelming your body and leaving you feeling like you're drifting away into nothingness.

Your vision blurs and the sounds slowly fade into the background. River is everything, your entire world, and right now the only thing you can concentrate on is his body and how good he makes you feel— he’s stretching out your cunt fucking delightfully. It feels like you're drowning in pleasure and you love it, absolutely love this feeling of complete submission to him. Normally, you’d fucking never let somebody, anybody, do this to you.

But River Ward is the exception.

You love the feeling of his breath on your neck, the soft, warm comfort it gives you, like a blanket wrapping itself against you. Your body relaxes as he gently moves his hands along your ribs, his gentle touch sending a shiver of excitement down your body. Then you hear his voice, a whisper that makes your toes curl with the touch.

River’s attention is set on suppressing his little groans of pleasure by lowering his head to your shoulder, biting down gently. Shit, you’re almost too much to handle, he notes your breathlessness and sense of being soo overwhelmed- he can tell you’re ready for anything and everything from this moment on. Your walls constrict tightly around him, arousal fluids spilling from your hole with each mean thrust.

Your breath is heavy and unfocused. River’s touch is perfectly balanced between soft and rough, squeezing your waist as his other hand digs into your breast, hips still deliciously rolling into you, still deliciously fucking you.

You can't even remember the last time you've felt this.. good.

Despite the burn of the stretch of his cock, you steady your legs back, rocking your ass back against him to match the pace of his thrusts.

River’s eyes shoot open when he feels your tight cunt starting to move up and down his length again, this time without his influence. Both his intimidating gaze and his large hands immediately fall to the fat of your ass as a groan rips out from his throat.

He’s just enjoying the show as his pretty needy little merc attempts to get herself off. It’s cute— pathetic, the way you take him whole, the way you’re desperate for more.

You feel the cool press of his metal hand against the back of your neck, using you as leverage to pump his hot cock in and out.

Your lips curl against the force of your teeth, the heat of your breath fogging against the glass, legs beginning to violently shake under the weight of his thrusts.

Both hands move to grab your plush thighs with a tight grip, your breathless sighs and tight cunt squeezing around him let him know just how much you really need him.

You wanna moan. You wanna whine out his name, you wanna beg for more— but you can't. Not this time. So, you bite into your lip hard, your open palms set on the glass of the window briefly curling into fists. Instead of submitting to yourself, you focus on the brightness of neon lights and towering buildings right before your eyes, you focus on the way his hands dig into the soft flesh of your hips, driving deep inside.

But it’s all too much for you.

"Fuck, V, you're good…” His voice is hot as it trails down your neck and along your jawline. Gentle hands begin to trail down your thighs, fingers tracing along your skin. Oh, it’s heavenly.

River’s eyes open when he doesn’t hear you respond past weak, breathy little sighs. A teasing remark sits on his tongue, his lips curling into a smirk, but his throat goes parched the moment his eyes trail all the way down to where his large, swollen cock disappeared in and out of you, just stretching you oh-so-well.

You look utterly and completely debauched in the reflection of the glass, eyes closed, cheek pressed up against the window, your mouth slightly agape, lips reddened and bruised from rough kisses. River finds the way your chest heaves and the way you let out broken whines oh-so-adorable, as his eyes trail down to the plethora of lovebites and hickies left strewn across your chest. At this point, you’re far too fucked-out to think.

Before you can even process what’s going on, River’s slipping himself out of you, making you let out a soft, yet audible little defeated whine. “Hey, hey…” Big arms lock around your waist, pulling you gently down onto the soft mattress below. “Stay with me, V…”

His voice is hot and hoarse right now— but fuck, you’d be damned if you didn’t find him to be so fuckin’ sweet— so fuckin’ adorable in the way he talks dirty to you— so damn possessive, yet so soft and tender at the same time. The sweet burn of lust ignites deeper within your stomach as you refuse to lose sight of his gaze. You nod your head; you follow his orders obediently. The feeling of being vulnerable like this for him feels so... right, so natural.

When your glassy eyes flicker up to meet his stare, his heart flutters a little in his chest. You look so so desperate, it’s beautiful.

River swears he’s truly gone feral. It’s all too much— your cute little face, your quiet whimpers, wet pathetic pussy so in need of being fucking destroyed… god. He can’t handle it anymore.

He drops to his knees on the bed— it feels natural, it feels right. Your breath halts a little in your chest, your pulse quickening when the detective begins to lower his head in between your thighs.

The world around you spins as your cunt squeezes around nothing. His rough fingertips grace over your clit, and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your lips. But he’s focused on something different— his cybernetic eyes are locked onto your cunt— your folds are soaked, your arousal coating your inner thighs in little tendrils.

“Wan’it?”

You nod again. Like an obedient dog.

River grins, mechanical eye gleaming in the darkness mischievously as his metal hand helps his cock press against your entrance. Something about his gravelly words made your cunt clench around nothing, making you drip onto his sheets below. His tip brushes against your sensitive sloppy folds, before he nudges your clit with his cockhead, drawing out the cutest little gasp from your lips. River chuckles at your reaction— fuck, you’re goddamn adorable. He uses his free ganic hand to caress your cheek, looking down at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

The feeling of his palm pressed against you is soothing, comforting even. You nuzzle into his touch instinctively.

It’s all a sweet, tender moment before River begins folding your legs up to your shoulders. You don’t have a second to think back on it before his thighs spread wider beneath you, the girth of his large cock sliding in deep, pressing thickly against your fluttering walls.

Fuck. You almost lose yourself, then— lips falling agape, nails biting into the curvature of his bicep as his hips press flush with your own. You want to moan. You wanna cry out— so so fucking bad.

But you know you can’t.

Shit, River swears he could bust on the spot from the way you pathetically look at him, pupils blown and watery, eyes halfway shut. “Awh,” he whispers near silently before he braces himself and pulling your hips up to his waist, leaving your back arched gorgeously. You feel completely full again.

His hips are finally still, giving you both a moment to recuperate. This time around, your cunt clenches down extra tight, your body seeming extra sensitive. He can read your reactions like a book— and he’s enjoying every little cute reaction he’s pulling out of you.

River hums to himself, before straightening back again. He pulls out all the way— till just his aching tip is left throbbing inside of you.

And all you can do is watch when he rocks back in and out again and again as if testing how deep he’s claimed his pretty little killer.

But with a muddled mind and blurry eyes, you’re more focused on how he’s moving, the way his body moves back and forth inside you, claiming you. Your instincts kick in as this strong man overpowers you and takes control of you most dangerously, but you accept it all. Just the feeling of his hands on your hips, his touch all over you as you look at him...fuck, you feel complete. You’re a dangerous merc in her prime, and yet here you are, fucked absolutely dumb by River Ward. Fuck, old man’s got some goddamn stamina, it’s impressive.

But secretly, he’s not sure if he can take it anymore— the pace of his hips falter for a second. Fuckkkkk. He grasps onto the meat of your thighs, his hips beginning to falter, slow down; his thighs beginning to tremble.

The overstimulation that comes with dragging his cock in and out of your tight pussy might just be the catalyst for him. He uses his remaining strength to hold himself deep inside of his lil’ merc, relishing the way you dig your nails into the curve of his bicep as he fucks into you steadfastly.

Now, it's you who's not sure if you can take it anymore. You can feel his hips slowing down, his grip on you faltering as he struggles to pull himself together. Your nails dig into his arms, digging deeper each time you feel that familiar feeling building up within you. Your thighs start trembling as your entire body is quaking underneath his...it's about to be all over for you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to control yourself like he had when you were trying to lure him deeper into you, but the build-up of pressure inside of you is too much to contain...it's beginning to spill over as the tension between you two builds up even higher. Your eyes continue to flutter with each slide in, and you’re panting at the burning euphoric release beginning to bubble in your chest. It’s all too much for you— far too much.

River’s dick knocks against your plushy walls over and over again, making your breaths ragged and short, making you spew out little high-pitched hoarse sighs as he claims you as his own after waiting for sooo long.

Every thrust inside of you has you trembling, panting, trembling again—your body can't take this anymore, the build-up is beginning to turn into a burst within you. You close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly as this burning euphoric release inside of you is simply too much....too much for you to handle. Your entire body feels like it's boiling over, the pressure inside of you reaching an all-time high.

The pressure building up in your tummy is too much to handle. You’ve resisted your orgasm, you’ve fought it, but suddenly the need for release becomes too difficult to hold back. Your body jolts up and you press your chest against him as you release, panting and whimpering as the pressure inside you is finally releasing. Finally, you cum, coating River’s cock in a ring of opaque white liquid.

The feeling of relief spreads through your entire body as you release, feeling your body tense and shudder with your inner pleasure flowing out of you as you moan out his name and you feel his grip tightening the harder that you bite into his arm, holding back from saying anymore even though you know you can’t keep it in anymore. Your lips quiver with anticipation as you feel the build-up of pleasure rise inside of you, and it’s so hard not to just explode but you hold back as he thrusts faster inside you.

His hands are shaky under the weight of your trembling thighs, underneath the weight of your explosive climax. His thrusts slow down to a halt, both his mechanical and ganic hands gripping your waist tight.

Deliberately, he slides himself all the way out, making you feel every inch of his cock down to the last vein, before slamming himself back inside one last time.

No longer can he stand the feeling of holding back— he needs to cum.

Every pump of his hips is accompanied by a short shudder and an exhale of your name as he’s losing himself to you, to the grip and clutch of your nails digging deeper into his arms. You know he’s close. And oh, is every little sign of his oncoming orgasm so so heavenly— the way his cock noticeably throbs within your constricting, gummy, tight walls— the way he’s allowing the occasional whimper to slip from his parted lips.

Your entire body’s trembling and quaking as he pulls away from you, both in the act of withdrawal and the satisfaction of fulfilling what he’s sought after for so long now. You’re breathless from his touch, quivering in your body, your eyes unable to focus on anything but the sight of him biting his lip…he's so so close to cumming— it’s all so damn delicious.

His mechanical hand presses into your thigh, the heat of his grip burning deep against your skin as he strokes his length, his breath shallow as he looks down at you, his eyes focused. River’s metal hand grips meanly into your thigh as his ganic’ one strokes his length, biting down hard into his lip to suppress himself.

Instead of gazing back into his eyes, you’re gazing down at his glistening dick as he finally cums— the liquid is thick, warm, and milky, all splattering onto your lower stomach.

The feel of his release all over you leaves you gasping as reality sets in. Once the heat disappears and the sensation finally dies down, you’re left with a whole new wave of emotions that you haven’t ever experienced before. Your body is still shaking from the release, and his breath is heavy as he looks down at you. You two are a mess.

River lays down there next to you, panting heavily as he stares over at you. His breathing is quick and heavy, and he's completely out of breath from the entire night, but he's smiling slightly, a look in his eyes that seems almost...relieved and content. You can’t help but to just admire how fuckin’ adorable he is before he reaches over to brush your hair aside, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

River’s soft with you— in your line of work, there’s no room for this much tenderness. You melt underneath his touch, a satisfied little sigh escaping you as your eyes flutter shut. You’re finally feeling comfortable enough to relax with him, to let your guard down and allow yourself to be a little soft with him. You feel at ease with him— finally at peace with not having to constantly be on high alert. You can relax.

But River’s all too aware of the mess he’s left you with. Gently, he lowers himself to you, softly murmuring in your ear.

“Just one sec, V… gotta get you cleaned up.”

As he stands, you're left helpless and vulnerable. The warmth of his touch is gone, replaced by a chill that leaves you feeling a little empty. Rivers' footsteps echo in the silent space between you as you lie there, alone in your thoughts.

The intimacy between the two of you may have faded, but the lingering after-effects remain. Your body is still trembling from the release, and your mind is clouded with the remnants of ecstasy. You’re left feeling vulnerable and exposed. A mess.

As River's footsteps echo through the room, you feel helpless and weak. Your body has been taken by him, and you’re left behind. To be cleaned up. You're his.

When he returns, he has a soft, warm towel in one hand, and one of his tanktops in the other. He places the tank top down on the bed right next to you. River's hand reaches out and starts to gently wipe down your body with the cloth, working to clean up the mess left behind. His touch is gentle, tender, and caring. You appreciate his efforts to clean up the mess he's left you with.

You feel like a mess, his mess. His hands are gentle and meticulous as he cleans you up, his touch different from the rough grip you felt during the night. His soft touch is comforting, reassuring, and so at odds with the intensity of the night. Yet, at the same time, it shows the other side of the intense man you know so well. The delicate one, hidden from the world.

He’s not squeezing or gripping tightly— just gently wiping you down, making sure not to squeeze too hard as he does his best to get you clean. His touch is tender he begins wiping you down, making sure to avoid the more sensitive areas like your inner thighs, and before making his way up with the soft cloth.

You feel yourself close to slipping away into a deep sleep, only for his warm voice to pull you back into the present.

“Hey…V,” River murmurs softly. “Got a shirt for you…” He’s grinning as he holds up a crumpled-up tank top he had set aside earlier— a small grin forming around your lips as you see the words “FUCK THE POLICE” printed across the front.

”Figured you’d like it…” he chuckles faintly, holding it up for you to take.

Despite your exhaustion, a little giggle leaves your lips at the sight of the printing on the front. Fuck, he’s adorable. River’s smile is contagious, filling you with a type of fondness you haven’t experienced in a long goddamn time. You graciously accept the shirt, sliding it over your head, a soft sigh escaping you as it settles over your frame. The fabric is soft, and it keeps you covered from the coolness of the night air. It’s a little big on you, but you like it that way— it’s comfy, and you’re beyond grateful for the little gesture.

River slides into bed next to you, remaining silent as he watches settle. His eyes wander up and down your body, appreciating the way the fabric of his shirt hangs loosely around your frame. He likes the look, and it’s cute. It’s not something he’s used to, but the sight of you like this— it’s endearing to him.

You can feel the exhaustion creeping in, settling into your bones after the long day's events. As he watches you settle in, you can sense his silent appreciation and affection, his gaze tracing the lines of your body with a softness you haven't often encountered.

"Thanks for tonight," River murmurs, his voice filled with gratitude and a hint of weariness as a yawn interrupts his words. He briefly presses a little kiss to your forehead, before rolling over. "Goodnight, V."

His words linger in the air, carrying a sense of appreciation and tenderness that touches your heart. With a soft smile, you reply, "Goodnight, River…" before snuggling closer to him, seeking his warmth as the chill of the night settles in around you.

The two of you lay there, entangled in the silence of your first night together. All you can hear is the sound of his breath against your throat, the silent rustle of his sheets, and the faint thrum of his heart. You feel so safe, so warm, so loved in his arms. River radiates a sense of peace within you, one that you hadn't felt on your own. And with him comes a feeling of protection, a feeling of belonging.

509 notes View Post

florence-castle

4 months ago

Good ol’ dog

Hazard x Reader

A/N: I just wanted to write something where hazard is just a sucker for praises and where he gets called a good boy because I’ve been salivating for something like this. (I’m going insane apologies in advance)

Summary: Hazard lately has been putting lot of work, but no one seems to be taking notice of that except you.

Hazard was exhausted, the tension from today’s mission still visible in the tightness of his shoulders as he sat slouched in the chair by the window. He wasn’t one to complain, but the way his eyes avoided yours told you how much the day had taken out of him.

“You know, you could just let me pamper you for once” you said, standing in the doorway with your arms crossed.

“Pamper me?” he scoffed, his thick Scottish accent laced with a faint growl of annoyance. “I’m nae wee bairn. I don’t need lookin’ after.”

You sighed and crossed the room, ignoring the way he tensed as you stepped closer. “It’s not about needing it. It’s about deserving it. You did more than just ‘your part’ today, Hazard. You carried the entire mission.”

He huffed, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation was already tiring him. “Ye’re makin’ it sound bigger than it was. I just did what had tae be done.”

“No, you did what no one else could do” you corrected, and before he could argue, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

His entire body froze, his hands hovering in the air like he didn’t know where to put them. “What are ye—”

“Sit still” you ordered, pressing your hands to his shoulders to keep him from bolting.

Hazard’s cheeks flushed immediately, the redness creeping all the way to his ears. “Yer mad” he muttered, his voice low and strained.

“Maybe” you teased, cupping his face and brushing your thumbs over the slight stubble on his jaw. “But you never take care of yourself, so someone’s gotta do it.”

His eyes darted to yours, wide and uncertain, and it only made you grin. “You’re so used to being the one in charge, aren’t you? Always protecting everyone else, always doing the right thing.” You leaned in closer, your voice soft and teasing. “You’re like a big, loyal dog. Dependable, selfless, but absolutely clueless when it comes to letting someone take care of you.”

Hazard’s blush deepened, and his jaw tightened under your touch. “Dinnae call me a dog” he muttered, his voice gruff.

“Oh, but it fits” you teased, brushing a strand of his hair out of his face. “You get all shy when someone scratches behind your ears, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, leaning even closer until your foreheads almost touched. “I’ll be gentle.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. Instead, you whispered, “You’re such a good boy, Hazard.”

Hazard froze completely, his breath hitching at your words. His hands tightened on your waist, his eyes wide as he stared at you. But then something shifted—his lips parted slightly, and a low, shaky groan escaped him. The moment hung in the air, heavy and charged. His blush deepened, and his grip on your waist became firmer. He leaned forward slightly, his forehead brushing against yours, and you realized, too late, that something in him had clicked. Did…did he like this?

“…Hazard?” you asked softly, your teasing smile faltering as the air between you grew warmer.

His mismatched eyes locked onto yours, and this time, there was no avoiding the hunger in his gaze. “Ye keep callin’ me that” he muttered, his voice lower, rougher. “Ye dinnae even know what yer doin’, bonnie.” Your teasing confidence wavered, your heart skipping a beat. “I was just messing with you—”

“Were ye now?” he interrupted, his hands sliding up your waist to rest just beneath your ribs. “Because it’s gettin’ a reaction out o’ me I’m thinkin’ ye weren’t expectin’.”

Your mouth went dry as his words registered. You had teased Hazard plenty of times before, but this… this was new. His body, his gaze, even the slight shift of his hands—it all felt charged in a way you hadn’t meant to spark.

“Haz, I—”

“Say it again” he whispered, barely audible.

You blinked, startled. “What?”

You tilted your head, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “What, ‘good boy’? Is that what you want?”

Hazard groaned softly, his fingers digging into your hips. “Don’t make me beg, please...”

Hazard let out a low, guttural groan, his head tipping back slightly as he closed his eyes. His hands flexed against your sides, and his breath came out shaky. “Yer gonna be the death o’ me,” he muttered, though the way he pulled you closer and buried his head on your chest told you he wasn’t about to let you go.

Suddenly, regaining back your confidence you leaned in. Your lips brushing against his ear. “Oh, but I think I will” you murmured. “Come on, Hazard. I want to hear you ask for it.”

His breathing grew heavier, his hands trembling slightly as they gripped your waist. He lowered his head, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he let out a frustrated sigh. “Please” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Please what?” you asked, feigning innocence.

He growled low in his throat, lifting his head to glare at you and bucking his hips forward against yours slightly. His blush spreading all the way to his ears. “Please… call me a good boy.”

You grinned, brushing your fingers through his hair as you leaned in close. “There it is” you said softly. “You really are a good boy, Hazard.”

A low, guttural groan escaped him, and he leaned into your touch, his hands pulling you closer. His head dropped to your shoulder again, and you swore you heard the faintest, most broken whimper escape his lips.

You swallowed hard, your teasing grin now a nervous smile. “You’re… really into this, huh?”

He chuckled softly, his gaze meeting yours again, darker this time but still full of warmth. “Aye, and it’s yer fault.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but before you could say anything, With a fluid motion, Hazard scooped you up as if you weighed nothing, his strong arms securing you effortlessly. Before you could even react, he laid you down on the bed, his body following close behind. He pinned your wrists above your head with one firm hand, his mismatched eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Don’t start somethin’ ye cannae finish, Bonnie” he murmured, his deep, accented voice brushing against your ear like a promise and a warning all at once.

Before you could reply, his lips descended to your neck, tracing slow, deliberate kisses across your skin. A soft gasp escaped you as he added gentle nips and teasing bites, each one sending a spark of heat coursing through you. His grip on your wrists tightened slightly, keeping you in place as his mouth claimed you, marking his territory with every kiss. Maybe you had underestimated just how much your teasing would affect him—or maybe, deep down, you’d hoped for this exact moment.

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florence-castle

4 years ago

Florence Castle's HEROES OF CYBERTRON - Ep. 02: LOCKDOWN

Ho deciso di alternare gli Autobot e i Decepticon in modo da variare gli argomenti. Così la serie non sembrerà monotona e noiosa. Ora vediamo l'episodio di oggi...

NOTA: Alcune immagini non sono mie, ma vengono dal sito DeviantArt. Articolo scritto da me, con l'approvazione di @jazzluca.

***

PUNTATA 2: LOCKDOWN, il cacciatore di taglie

Con il prossimo soggetto è meglio non scherzare. Basta solo nominarlo e le reazioni scatenate tra i fan si alternano tra urli di giubilo o vergognosi fischi, se non addirittura insulti più o meno pesanti. L’unica magra consolazione è che LOCKDOWN non appartiene a nessuna fazione dei Transformers, quindi né Autobot né Decepticon.

Sebbene sia uno dei pochissimi Bot misconosciuti a causa delle sue origini relativamente moderne, Locky detiene una discreta popolarità nel brand, complice probabilmente del fatto di essere un cacciatore di taglie con il macabro pallino di collezionare i cimeli degli sfortunati Bot che ha incrociato lungo il cammino, pur detenendo “solo” quattro trasposizioni nell’universo Transformer. Non è certo un bravo ragazzo come Samus Aran, la survivalista spaziale in armatura arancione protagonista della saga Nintendo Metroid, ma possiamo semmai definirlo un “cazzuto bastardo” à la Wolf ‘O Donnel di Star Fox, sempre della Nintendo... oppure ai vari Deathstroke o Lobo della DC Comics. Le analogie tra questi personaggi sono comunque inquietanti tanto quanto il Bot in sé!

Florence Castle's HEROES OF CYBERTRON - Ep. 02: LOCKDOWN

Quest’ultimo, dicevamo, nasce in epoca moderna, più precisamente nella serie Animated del 2008: il suo esordio risale all’episodio Il Brivido della Caccia della Stagione 1, nel quale si presenta come un rivale di vecchia data nientemeno che di Ratchet – e inutile dire che questa puntata sigla l’esordio anche di Arcee, la cui tragica fine rappresenta le radici della rivalità tra il vecchio Autobot e il cacciatore di taglie. In questa prima veste, Lockdown è stato paragonato a Testa di Morte, il Bot che nei fumetti G1 Marvel UK si scontrò più volte con i Transformers di entrambe gli schieramenti. Ma se quest’ultimo era un cacciatore di taglie con un balordo senso dell’umorismo che lo rendeva simpatico, Lockdown è invece la sua controparte dark: non solo per il suo stretto legame con i Decepticon, ma anche per la macabra natura della sua passione collezionistica, che prevede la raccolta di pezzi dei nemici caduti – il che spiega il suo assetto asimmetrico quasi alla strega di un patchwork. Non è ironico che, secondo Derrick J. Wyatt, il nostro Locky doveva in origine essere un bizzarro mostro di Frankenstein robotico, poi cambiato per sposarsi meglio con il ruolo assegnatogli dalla sceneggiatura; il risultato è una figura “reminiscente a un teschio per la testa” con tanto di code simili a quelle di una giacca... anche se, per quanto mi riguarda, il viso di Lockdown ricorda abbastanza vagamente quello di uno dei Kiss! Estetica a parte, il suo arrivo nel brand ha rappresentato una ventata d’aria fresca all’epoca: se già il fatto di non essere allineato a una delle due fazioni lo rende difficile da classificare per l’ingenua mente dei giovanissimi – perennemente radicata alla dicotomia bianco/nero e buono/cattivo – la sua totale immoralità lo rende praticamente inaccessibile.

È proprio questa popolarità nata da Animated che ha spinto gli addetti ai lavori, a ridosso del 2010, a rilanciare il personaggio di Lockdown nel Movie-verso di Michael Bay, sebbene rimanga solo una mera comparsa nei fumetti ad hoc della IDW, da La Vendetta del Caduto in avanti... almeno fino a quando, nel 2014, esordisce anche sul grande schermo in TRANSFORMERS 4: l’Era dell’Estinzione. Sfoggiando un’inedita livrea completamente nera priva degli iconici spruzzi di verde e un’altmode che al confronto lo stesso Sideswipe impallidisce perché è una Lamborghini, Locky si presenta al pubblico nuovamente come “cacciatore di taglie non allineato con nessuno”, che viaggia per la galassia in cerca di tesori a bordo di un’enorme astronave, anche al costo di scontrarsi con gli Autobot di Optimus Prime. Inoltre, rispondendo soltanto ai capricci degli enigmatici Creatori/Quintesson, Lockdown si tiene alla larga dalla guerra tra Autobot e Decepticon, e vede entrambe le fazioni come un branco di schiamazzanti bambini sempre in lite tra loro, che egli stesso deve tenere a bada pur di mantenere una parvenza di ordine nell’universo. È, a tutti gli effetti, l’antagonista principale di tutta la pellicola (seguito a ruota dallo pseudo-zombie Galvatron e al misterioso Stinger, il guerriero rosso “ispirato a Bumblebee ma migliore in ogni senso”), ma finisce infelicemente tagliato in due da un furioso Optimus Prime, forse per vendicare tanto la morte del caro amico Ratchet quanto le vessazioni subite a lui e ai suoi compagni caduti.

Di recente, nel cartone Cyberverse del 2018, Lockdown appare inaspettatamente retrocesso a un mero guerriero Decepticon appartenente al gradino più basso della gerarchia. E come tutti i protagonisti della serie, anche lui ha un design che è la summa di tutte le sue incarnazioni precedenti: è squadrato come un G1 ante litteram ma ha le borchie e l’uncino al posto di una mano proprio come l’omonimo Animated – e retroattivamente anche il suo altmode, sebbene nella serie non si trasformi mai in veicolo.

Naturalmente i ragazzi della IDW, sempre nel 2010, hanno avuto la bella idea di trasporre il personaggio anche nel cubettoso universo G1… anzi nella cosiddetta “G1 moderna”, da con confondersi con quella “classica” da cui tutto il brand ha avuto origine! Nome a parte, perché questo “G1 Lockdown” venisse alla luce, l’artista Alex Milne ha insistito nel voler progettare un design originale per il personaggio, ma quest’idea viene subito accantonata; la Hasbro, infatti, gli chiedeva invece di usare l’aspetto che Locky aveva nei fumetti di Revenge of the Fallen; non solo, fu l’editore Denton J. Tipton a suggerire allo sceneggiatore Shane McCarthy di inserire il personaggio anche nel G1-verso, trasformandolo così in uno dei primissimi avversari dell’Autobot samurai Drift... o meglio del reietto Decepticon Deadlock, fuggito dopo una congiura contro Megatron finita male. Compito del cacciatore è ritrovare il fuggiasco e riportarlo tra le fila Decepticon, anche grazie all’aiuto di alcuni schiavisti; alla fine, lo ritrova su un misterioso pianeta su cui un pugno di Bot neutrali (quello che poi sarà noto come il “Circolo della Luce”) lo aveva tenuto nascosto per eoni.

Ma non finisce qui. Lockdown è apparso anche in altri media, come ad esempio nel videogioco per PS4 TRANSFORMERS: The Dark Spark del duo Activision/High Moon Studios, concepito come un ibrido tra il Movie-verso e la saga di La Battaglia per Cybertron. Oppure su dispositivi mobili, come il crossover Angry Birds: TRANSFORMERS, nel quale uno dei maialini verdi nemici dei celebri pennuti della Rovio (il baffuto Caposquadra), veste i panni proprio di Lockdown. O ancora, come mera comparsa nel defunto gioco di carte TRANSFORMERS: Legends, o addirittura come personaggio collezionabile nel recente strategico Earth Wars, dimostrando che il temuto cacciatore di taglie non sia stato del tutto sbattuto nel dimenticatoio!

***

Abbiamo detto che Lockdown è apparso solo quattro volte in tutto il brand, videogiochi esclusi, ma questo non vuol dire che i modellini associati a questo personaggio siano altrettanto limitati. Il primo fra tutti, ovviamente, è il Deluxe della linea Animated: una bella muscle car nera e verde descritta come “un amalgama tra una Corvette anni 80 e una Cougar anni 60” irta di aculei per renderla più feroce e cattiva, anche se è più corretto definirla un incrocio tra la Batmobile e Christine, l’infernale auto assassina protagonista dell’omonimo romanzo di Stephen King. Di questo mold sono uscite quattro versioni: quella canonica, la traslucida Stealth, la nera e gialla Blazing e uno pseudo-Decepticon per la linea Adventure del 2015 (ovvero la versione giapponese di Robots in Disguise 2015 della Takara); sono tutte equipaggiate col fucile EMP, lo stesso che Lockdown ruba a Ratchet nel cartone, ma solo tre hanno l’iconico uncino e il Blazing è l’unico a sfoggiare una motosega. Nella stessa linea, a nome di Lockdown troviamo anche un Activator, ossia la famigerata sotto-linea dei modellini che si trasformano alla pressione di un pulsante, rivolto dunque ad un target più giovane.

Per quanto riguarda il Movie-verso, Lockdown si palesa come Deluxe nella linea Revenge of the Fallen, palesemente ispirato all’Animated in modo così pesante da sembrare quasi identico all’originale; ciononostante lo stesso stampo sarà riutilizzato per il modellino dell’allievo di Lockdown, un tal Axor, per la sotto-linea Hunt for the Decepticon del 2009/10 e nello stesso biennio il mold originale è stato riproposto sotto il nome di “G1 Lockdown”. Nel Movie-verso arriva un altro Deluxe nell’inedita linea di giocattoli del quarto film di Bay; dico inedita perché questi modelli non sono mai stati rilasciati in Italia per lasciare spazio a degli inutili One-Step e compagni riservati ai giovanissimi. L’AoE Lockdown è tristemente noto come il modello più deludente di tutta la linea non solo per lo schema di colori adottato per nulla fedele alla controparte filmica (il modello Hasbro, almeno, mentre quello della Takara Movie Advance sfoggia una livrea più vicina possibile alla CGI) ma anche per essere una “maledetta sottiletta/mezzo Shellformer”, nonché il modellino più basso di tutti gli altri Deluxe a causa dell’altmode forse troppo piccolo per un personaggio così importante. Un vero peccato... o almeno fino al 2018, in cui il personaggio riceve una figure di una qualità leggermente migliore: lo Studio Series Lockdown, che è sempre un Deluxe ma con uno stampo completamente nuovo e meglio proporzionato rispetto al modello precedente. E per fortuna, poiché molti fan del famigerato cacciatore di taglie hanno finora ricevuto solo una delusione dopo l’altra! 😅

CONCLUSIONE

È davvero un peccato che un personaggio così popolare abbia avuto così poca cura. Forse lui stesso è occupato a raccogliere trofei da qualche parte nella galassia? Io sono ottimista, magari lo rivedremo in futuro in qualche media più che accettabile... e lo dico perché ho sempre avuto un certo fascino per questi personaggi “grigi” e amorali, e sarebbe davvero carino vederlo in compagnia del mio ragno Decepticon Raysharper e tutta la sua banda di Insecticon. Non è da vigliacchi sognare, no? 😊

Arrivederci alla prossima puntata 😘

Special Delivery (Cayde-6 x Reader)

“Here are the items you missed on your last mission. Hope to see you again!” You said to a fellow Guardian. He thanked you and walked off.

Today, you were helping your friend Kadi55-30 at the postmaster office. The other day you saw how much items she had to deliver and asked if she wanted help. Kadi nodded eagerly and thanked you in advance.

Another Guardian walked up to you.

“Name please.” You said sweetly.

“Nina!” The Guardian stated, smiling brightly.

You walked to the back of the small vendor and looked in the ‘N’ section. You found a small box with a hand canon and a warlock arm band. You walked back and placed the box in front of the girl.

“Here you go Nina! All the stuff you missed on your last mission. Enjoy!” You said. Nina nodded and giggled before skipping away.

“(Y/N), do you mind making a few delivers for me?” Kadi asked, as she walked up next to you.

“Sure! Just tell me where to take them.” You reply. Kadi waddles to the back and returns with a stack of colorful boxes. She hums while she unstacks them. You knew a few of the names on the boxes and blinked in surprise when you see a box for a certain Exo. You gently picked it up and attempted to see what was inside. Before you could get a peak, Kadi made a squealing noise. You looked up and saw her rush towards you.

“You okay Kadi?” You asked, voice full of worry. Kadi gently took the box from you and taped the top shut. You gave her a questioning look.

“It’s a s-special order for Cayde.” Kadi tried to explain, her voice cracking a little. You nodded slowly and picked up all the other boxes.

“Please don’t open it again.” Kadi said quietly.

“I won’t. I promise.” You reassured her, walking off to deliver the packages.

You headed towards the Bazaar and climb some stairs that lead to Guardian apartments.

You quickly arrived on to the first stop and placed the box at the door. You rang the door bell and skipped away.

Next, you took the elevator and went up to floor 4. You walked down the hall and found the correct room. You rang the doorbell and a Guardian answered. You happily handed them their deliver and they thanked you before running inside excitedly to open it.

Now, all you had to do was deliver Cayde’s package. You knew he wasn’t at his apartment. He was probably at his Vanguard station in the Hangar. You hummed as you made your way to Cayde’s area.

There were a few Hunters talking with the Exo. They needed a quest to do together and Cayde was deciding which one to give them. You patiently waited until he was free.

“(Y/N)! How’s my favorite Guardian?” Cayde said, eyes twinkling.

“Hey Cayde. I’m helping Kadi today and she needed me to deliver this to you.” You replied, placing the box on the table. Cayde quickly grabbed it and looked at you.

“You… didn’t happen to open it, did you?” He asked. You shook your head. Cayde let out a sigh of relief.

“What did you get?” You asked, still curious.

Cayde looked over to you, eyes searching your face. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly before he gently grabbed your arm and pulled you behind his workspace. You blushed as he turned to you. You could feel him heating up.

“I umm.. I actually g-got something for you…” Cayde said, resting the box in your arms. Your face lit up and you quickly open the package.

Inside, was a custom made cloak. It was black, blue, and white. There were a few stripes on it but what caught your attention were the symbols at the bottom. There was a white Ace of Spaces and blue Heart.

“I hope you l-like it.. the Ace is to remind you of me and the Heart is for umm…” Cayde trailed off, looking at the floor. “It means… that.. you are my Queen of Hearts… so… it’s us…”

You squealed and jumped onto Cayde, wrapping your arms and legs around him. He let out a yelp before chuckling and wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Thank you Cayde. I love it so much!!!” You said before peppering his face with kisses.

Cayde heated up even more and started to stuttered while you stopped and realized what you had done.

You pulled away and hid your face in the new cloak. Cayde shook his head before walked over to you and pulling you tightly against him. He gently tilted your head to look up and he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was gentle and sweet. Cayde hummed happily and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You two separated and blushed madly at one another. Cayde stepped around you and took off your cloak before putting on the one he got you. You twirled around and giggled as Cayde whistled is amusement.

“Looks good on you, (Y/N).” He said, voice full of admiration. You bowed gracefully before hugging him.

“Thank you Cayde. This is the best gift I have ever received.” You said, kissing his horn. Cayde’s face heated up and snuggled into you hug.

“Do you have to help Kadi more or can you stay here with me?” Cayde asked while you two walked back to his station.

“I’m sure Kadi can hold down the fort.” You said, taking his hand in yours. Cayde kissed the top of your hand. A few Guardians giggled and cheered. You blushed while Cayde chuckled.

The rest of the day consisted of kisses, helping Cayde assign jobs, and tickle fights. And later that day, you and Cayde cuddled the night away.

58 notes View Post

florence-castle

1 year ago

Alive?

This is a dream…or some cruel, horrendous joke.

But he’s right there. He’s alive.

The Young Wolf’s knees meet earth with an unceremonious thud as she stares up at her Vanguard, her mentor, her friend.

You’re alive?

The Ace of Spades is a steady weight on her hip but for a moment, it isn’t a crushing reminder of her failure but a firm reassurance from a friend. Is this what hope feels like? After so long, trudging from one debilitating atrocity to another, can she…finally have a win without repercussions?

Can she have her best friend back?

“Hey kiddo,” Cayde smiles at her, moving from his place beside the Warlock Vanguard to approach the trembling Hunter. He kneels down, laying a hand - Traveler, it’s solid, it’s real - along her shoulder. Her head lifts a fraction and in an instant, her arms are bound around his neck and a heavy, anguished sob is torn from her chest.

“Aw, missed me, huh?” He tries to tease even as he gathers the Guardian into his arms and holds her tight. “It’s okay. I’m fine, yeah?”

She can’t answer. Words are knots in her throat that will not dislodge.

Cayde-6 looks over his shoulder at Ikora with a smile and she folds her arms across her chest, a gentle warmth to her smile as they stay in silence.

He's here and she can - fuck, she's missed him.

After the Leviathan, after making peace with his death - she never dreamt she'd see him again.

And maybe it's not really him.

But the arms that hold her are too familiar to deny.

You're alive.

She's sure this is only temporary. Some last ditch effort from the Traveler to protect itself. To rally.

But she doesn't care.

Maybe this time…she'll get to say goodbye.

Hey, take me with you.

—

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @forgotten-by-the-stars @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @aetosavros @niemands-bibliothek @paracausal-hunter @silverhandsamurais @orbdotexe

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florence-castle

6 months ago

Sparks

You didn’t understand why Winston insisted on you and Genji doing missions together. At first, you were just confused. Genji was fast, and agile, and quiet. And you, while fast enough you suppose, were loud and conspicuous. Genji was a quiet breeze that swept in the storm clouds and you were quite literally the lightning that followed. Flash shouldn’t follow subtlety.

But Genji was so kind, and so gentle, and so encouraging. You became confused about other things. About Life. About Luck. About Love.

You tried really hard not to think about love.

Continua a leggere

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