Movie Optimus And Megatron Are Actually Really Deep Guys, Seriously

Meditation (Genji x Reader)

//Hello everyone! This is my first actual post on here, hope you all like it~

You’re sitting on a picnic blanket with Genji in the gardens of his estate, enjoying the spring weather. The sakura trees have just begun to blossom, covering the trees in pale pink flowers and filling the air with a faint floral aroma. You lean into Genji and close your eyes, resting your head between his shoulder and his neck. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, making you smile. You sigh happily. It had taken a long time for him to get this comfortable with you, but it was well worth the wait.

“Genji,” you murmur.

He looks down at you and speaks slowly, “What is it…” he pauses and his eyes dart away from yours as his face reddens. He swallows before continuing, “… Honey?” He chuckles at his embarrassment.

Your heart seems to swell in your chest and you grin at him. Genji is still getting used to using pet names—something he had never used seriously before dating you. You told him he didn’t need to use a pet name if he wasn’t comfortable with it, but he insisted that he wanted to.

You sit upright and face him. “Can you teach me how to meditate?”

His eyes gleam and he smiles sincerely. It was the first time anyone wanted to learn something he now loved to do.

He spends the next few minutes “warming you up” by walking you through light stretches to relax your muscles and showing you a comfortable position to meditate in.

Once the two of you are settled, sitting face-to-face, Genji begins talking you through the meditation process. He tells you to close your eyes and concentrate on your breathing and how the breaths flow in and out of your body.

Genji’s voice is so soothing that you immediately feel relaxed. He keeps guiding you through the meditation and the gaps between his spiels become longer and longer. Eventually he falls silent and you’re left listening to the world around you. Birds chatter. Insects drone in the distance. The sound of flowing water enters your ears and you feel at peace with the world.

A few minutes pass and a light breeze blows through the garden, making the sakura branches sway. You’re pulled out of your concentration by mild curiosity. You open your eyes to peek at Genji.

He’s looking at you lovingly. When you open your eyes, he grins. “Sorry. I couldn’t concentrate… I was so happy,” he said and laughed. “And… You look so pretty when you’re relaxed.”

You blush and snuggle up to him. “You’re so unfair. I thought you were meditating too!”

Genji chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He leans down and plants a kiss on your forehead. Before he pulls away, you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and nuzzle his nose. “We should meditate more often,” you say. He grins and kisses your lips.

“Of course… Honey.”

//Shout-out to @freedomaboveallelse for introducing me to OW and the fandom! I am now OW trash hahaha;;;

TW violence, blood, dagger/knife, gun

I've been working on this for awhile now. It's from the last chapter of WatM that I posted a couple weeks ago (I should have a new one this week) and I finally finished it last night. I don't usually stick with a project this long so I'm pretty pleased with it. Thanks @echosong971 for the advice!

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!

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 😘

pettiness is a dish always best served hot; guardian x crow and cayde :)

after getting that ask about Cayde being a third-wheel in this situation, I just had to write something for the Wild Card mission :) I hope this is as funny as it is in my mind :D also on ao3

Cayde hates stake outs. 

Getting into the fray, guns blazing, is where his true approach lies. A knife here, a bullet there, everyone who should be dead is dead, and he gets to eat ramen right on the dinner clock. 

Yet here they are, former Hunter Vanguard, his little Guardian protege and their formerly of the Awoken royalty boyfriend. Slash killer. Slash no, not anymore. Slash, unsure. What a crew!

“Cayde, stop moving!” Crow chastises him, kicking him lightly in the shin. 

Cayde narrows his eyes but obliges by sitting down on the ground, watching Crow. Now that one was made for scouting. Patient to a Hunter appropriate degree, wicked with a sniper, if Cayde were to judge. Knows his stuff. And according to the few conversations they shared, not even mildly scared by bureaucracy. Good, Cayde thinks.

A multitude of feelings swarm inside him. Curiosity, jealousy, a little bit of anger for the spice. Resentment, pride, appreciation.

But above all those warm and fuzzy feelings, there is one more. One that Cayde has made sure to nurture over his long long life. One that feeds into his very psyche.

“Guardian?” Crow calls on the comms. “I have you in my sights. There is a swarm of Scorn approaching your location. Wait, what? Uh…”

Whatever the reply is, Cayde doesn’t get to hear as the channel switches to private but for a second. And so he gives in to that feeling instead.

A wave of playful and unyielding pettiness.

And so Cayde-6 forms a plan. 

***

They sit around a small fire, celebrating one of the many latest victories of their hunt. Crow reenacts a shoot-out with a horde of war beasts, accidentally sending one of the bottles flying at the wall, covering the rock side with rich red. The Guardian is laughing, while the two Ghosts watch with a mixture of disapproval and parental condescension. 

Crow thoughtfully rubs his nape and reaches for another wine bottle, offering it to the Guardian. But before the bottle can make contact, Cayde smiles and swipes it from Crow's hand. 

“Oh, that's my favourite!” he exclaims. “Not vintage enough, but that will do.”

He lets the cool liquid pour down his mechanical throat, watching from the corner of the eye as Crow can't find any more wine in their supplies. The Guardian is smiling at Crow's quiet frustration and reassures him that it's fine and they can transmat in some more if need be. Their hands brush against each other as Crow sits next to the Guardian, and Cayde wonders if they don’t see him notice.

“Good wine?” Crow asks with a mocking tone, to which Cayde wipes his mouth and sighs with great content.

“Good enough, kid.”

Crow huffs and turns his attention to stoking the fire.

A warm feeling spreads in Cayde's chest. He oh so loves being up to no good. 

***

In-between the many battles within the Pale Heart, they take a moment of respite to take care of their weapons and ammunition. The Guardian is trying to get screeb stuff out of their armour to no avail. Rookie mistake to run straight into the thick of the horde and serves them right.

Crow polishes the feather-etched barrel of his gun. Cayde watches, proud that the kid has already figured out the important business of having a signature gun. Cayde tucks away a thought about a signature cloak, one step a time, but that's a done deal. He's decided, it’s just that no one else needs to know for now. 

Cayde looks at his own weapon, the Ace of Spades glowing with Light through cracks. Shabby, but trusty. His thumb runs over the white spade. Even here in this strange version of the afterlife, a memory of something distant and unattainable is haunting him.

When he raises his eyes, he finds that Crow has joined the Guardian in a fruitless attempt to wipe off the Scorn ether, yet the more they both try, the more the stain seems to eat into the armour.

Lovebirds, Cayde thinks. Oh how the tables have turned.

***

The hunt for the ether-thieves goes on for a few more days. In that time Cayde thinks he and Crow have discussed every possible facet of things he would rather never talk about again. Good thing the kid is easily distracted with a healthy bit of competition, which they indulge in by shooting distant targets while the Guardian spots them both. 

At night they take turns to meditate and rest, another taking watch.

On one of the nights, Cayde wanders off from the camp. An excuse is easy, a strange noise nearby he wants to investigate, as if there isn't something strange happening every minute anyway. They are inside the Traveler, after all.

Cayde walks down a narrow trodden path and contemplates the ridiculous lip locking happening right around the corner. It doesn’t particularly bother him, but oh, amuse him it does. His favourite Guardian, all tangled up with this Crow. He wonders how it happened. Actually, he doesn’t, the more he thinks about it, the stranger it seems.

When Cayde makes it back to the camp, the kiss is still ongoing, with the two lovebirds none the wiser to his presence. Dangerous, could get shot like this, so they should be happy it’s just him.

Cayde pushes between the Guardian and Crow, plopping himself down on the ground. The Guardian is looking away flushed, while Crow crosses his arms.

“Found anything suspicious?” he asks, moving to make space.

“Nah, false alarm. There was this pair of love birds though…”

The Guardian chokes on a small hidden laugh.

***

“...that’s when Zavala punched him right. In. The. Face!”

As the Guardian laughs, Crow rubs his forehead with tired fingers. Cayde rummages through his memories to grapple onto a new story - and good thing that not all of them have to be true - when the Guardian stretches their arms. After a few pops, a glance at Crow and a ridiculously tired yawn, they begin to rise from the chair.

“Hold on, I’ve got one more!” Cayde exclaims. “Just one more, and off you go to see your sweet dreams. Promise!”

The Guardian sits right back, and Crow watches Cayde with eyes narrowed, only two brightly coloured irises glowing in the dark. He means to say something, and Cayde eggs him on with a prolonged pause, just to talk as Crow’s mouth opens.

“A-”

“Okay, there was this one time I sat in a bar, and in came a titan, a hunter and a warlock…”

One story turns into a couple more. A wine bottle is fished from the supplies, and the Guardian is doing all in their power to not let their eyes closed, when Cayde puts a final flourish on the story.

“And that’s why you don’t play cards with Ikora.”

“Good to know,” Crow says with an amused grin. “I think I’m going to catch some sleep. How… about you, Guardian?”

They rise from the chair and dust off their armour, even though it has now been made pristine.

As the Guardian heads to the tent, Crow turns to Cayde. Their eyes meet, some kind of momentary agreement or understanding. He doesn’t want to talk about it now, but he has learnt the importance of well-timed words. It may always be that you would not get a chance to say them.

“Come on,” Cayde ushers Crow with a flick of his hand. “Go get that sleep.”

Crow crosses his arms and arches his eyebrow.

“What, not another story? Or sleeping right in the middle of the tent like the last time?”

“Nope,” Cayde responds. “Let’s just say, I got my retaliation. Now go, shoo. The Guardian is going to fall asleep if you don’t get all cuddly and snuggly.”

Crow’s lips stretch into a wild grind.

“What in the Light’s name are those words?”

“No idea, hope I don’t get to repeat them ever again. Now go, kid. And… look after them, yeah? They are my favourite.”

Crow looks at the tent where the Guardian is fumbling with a light blanket.

“I will. They are my favourite, too.”

TRACKS ( Deluxe ) War for Cybertron KINGDOM

Sono ormai tre anni che questa trilogia War for Cybertron è una vera e propria rimpatriata G1, alla quale anche i Beast Wars/Biocombat si sono autoinvitati con la scusa di festeggiare il loro venticinquesimo compleanno. E nel “minestrone” della terza parte KINGDOM può addirittura capitare di incapparsi in personaggi che non c’entrano nulla col cartone animato Netflix ma che comunque hanno fatto la storia dei TF G1 come Inferno, Huffer, i ripescati dal film del 1986 Cyclonus e Galvatron... e persino questo TRACKS, famosissimo guerriero/detective Autobot un po’ modaiolo e un po’ Narciso, protagonista delle memorabili puntate Sulle tracce di Tracks e Auto-Rock della Stagione 2. Nonostante la popolarità, di lui abbiamo avuto solo un’altra comparsata in animazione (Stagione 3 Animated, in forma Cybertroniana), così come pochissimi modellini prima del WFC, a parte il modellino originale del 1985: si conta l’Alternator, ma anche il Generations del 2010 che però era un remold di Wheeljack, per poi passare al rispettabilissimo Masterpiece del 2014 reso famigerato per lo zaino fin troppo vuoto. E il KINGDOM Deluxe che stringo tra le mani sarà forse all’altezza del predecessore?

Innanzitutto, come da tradizione, l’altmode del nostro Puma è una CHEVROLET C3 CORVETTE STINGRAY, automobile che più Anni 80 non si può: bellissima, elegante, slanciata e riconoscibile dal cofano lungo. Oddio, non è esattamente una riproduzione dell’auto reale – per quello esiste il Masterpiece, comunque – ma come appare nel settei del cartone animato originale, ovvero semi-realistica e col simbolo Autobot sul cofano racchiuso in uno “scudo” rosso uniforme che dovrebbe imitare il motivo fiammeggiante giallo e rosso tipico del giocattolo G1. Inoltre, qui di simboli Autobot ce n’è uno solo, quello del cofano appunto, e si è evitato di riproporlo anche sul tettuccio in quanto questo costituirà lo zaino del robot. Il Masterpiece invece risolveva in parte questo inconveniente nascondendo il suddetto simbolo con un pannellino a scomparsa perché l’intero abitacolo formava il busto di Tracks.

Per quanto riguarda la colorazione, in generale è un tripudio di un bel blu brillante, tranne nella plastica trasparente celeste dei vetri (lunotto, parabrezza e finestrini), nel nero delle ruote e del radiatore frontale e nell’argento dei cerchioni; a parte quello non si vedono ulteriori dettagli dipinti eccetto nelle due righe bianche sul retro... che in realtà, come vedremo, sono i timoni della Modalità Volo di Tracks, e mi dispiace che siano sì nascoste e a filo con la carrozzeria ma antiestetiche, mentre nel Masterpiece erano sottili come carta e non rovinavano le linee del modellino. E a proposito del retro, anche qui nessuna traccia di colore nei fari o nella targa, ma volendo il perno metallico sul fondo potrebbe essere scambiato per una terza marmitta dell’auto o il propulsore della modalità volante.

Trattandosi di WFC, Tracks si presenta con almeno tre/quattro porte per le armi: due sul retro e due all’altezza dei parafanghi anteriori. Qui è possibile innestare l’iconicissimo doppio lanciamissili, purtroppo completamente bianco e non con la base nera e adesivi annessi come in passato, e a sua volta presenta un foro in cima, quindi si può riporre lì anche la pistola di Tracks – il cui design è una via di mezzo tra il G1 e il Masterpiece, ovvero nera come il giocattolo ma sputata al settei. E sempre di Masterpiece si parla guardando il disguise da dieci e lode, poiché effettivamente non vi è alcuna traccia del robot neanche se lo si guarda da sotto... caso più unico che raro in modelli di questa linea! 😍

Ovviamente Tracks non sarebbe quel Tracks senza la sua celeberrima MODALITÀ VOLO, che consiste nel sollevare i timoni bianchi dal retro dell’auto, sganciare le portiere ed estrarre i moduli prima in fuori e poi paralleli ai fianchi, avendo cura di separarli dalle ali e di ruotarli di 90° (quindi con la decorazione gialla e rossa verso l’alto). In questa forma il nostro guadagna altre due porte per le armi – essendo le future braccia del robot – e l’estetica in sé è una fotocopia del Masterpiece, che a sua volta ricalca il settei. L’unico neo, parafrasando il mio collega @jazzluca, “di tutto questo ben di Primus” sono i timoni e le ali non dipinti: cioè, è troppo chiedere qualche dettaglio colorato in più per richiamare gli adesivi del G1 o, al limite, i dettagli stilizzati visti nel cartone? E non sarebbe stato un crimine, come nel Masterpiece, aggiungere dei perni per assicurare le braccia/prese d’aria ai fianchi dell’auto invece di lasciarle “penzoloni”? 😒

Vabbè... passiamo ora alla TRASFORMAZIONE, che di fatto è un copia-incolla semplificato di quella del Masterpiece. Partendo già dalla Modalità Volo, le braccia sono praticamente belle che fatte – basta solo ritrarre i timoni, ruotare in fuori le mani e portare in su le ali. Ora sganciamo i parafanghi anteriori per avere più gioco nella separazione del cofano, quindi solleviamo e ripieghiamo su se stesso l’intero blocco della cappotte, ruotiamo il tutto di 180° e agganciamolo sulla schiena. Apriamo gli stinchi e ruotiamo di 180° i piedi e i parafanghi stando attenti a non incastrarci nel bacino, quindi distendiamo le gambe e – una volta aggiustati i piedi – assicuriamo i pannelli tramite un mini-perno dietro al ginocchio. Ruotiamo il busto di 180° e slittiamo in avanti il finto petto del robot; per concludere, collassiamo il tutto via doppio perno e blocchiamo le metà superiore e inferiore tramite una clip e un perno sull’“ombelico”.

Come ROBOT Tracks, è proprio il caso di dirlo, è un piccolo capolavoro. Sputato al Masterpiece di sette anni fa con le tecnologie attuali e nella taglia di un Deluxe che è in scala con tutti i suoi colleghi WFC – tanto per essere pignoli, è alto un pelo in più dei Fratelli Lamborghini Sideswipe e Sunstreaker ma allo stesso tempo rispetto a un Optimus Prime Tracks arriva almeno sotto i pettorali. Non si tratta di un errore, anzi: il fatto di essere alto e magro rientra nei canoni del personaggio, e anche in questo caso Hasbro ha pensato bene di fare affidamento alla scala ufficiale dell’85 – quindi, direi che siamo nella media. E a proposito di settei, Puma qui sembra effettivamente uscito dal cartone animato con la tipica livrea blu-grigio/nero-bianco e la testa col casco bianco e il volto rosso fuoco, ma ha la licenza poetica dei piedi neri, mentre invece sappiamo bene che sono bicromatici grigio e blu. Inoltre, presenta dettagli scolpiti degni del G1 classico ma non colorati (come le ginocchia, i piedi o le ali, per esempio); viceversa quelli degli adesivi sui guanti e sulla cintura sono ridotti ai minimi termini; nulla da obiettare sul classico riquadro giallo col simbolo Autobot rosso sul petto, comunque! 😅

Non noto alcun difetto estetico grave, a parte il solito vuoto dello zaino... che, per carità, è già di suo abbastanza compatto e schiacciato, quindi non dà neanche tanto fastidio. Può semmai storcere il naso quello delle caviglie e delle braccia, ma ancora una volta sono difetti “funzionali”: nel primo caso, il piede non avrebbe abbastanza spazio per la trasformazione delle gambe nel cofano dell’auto; nel secondo è una caratteristica comune di molti Deluxe WFC, perché in quella cavità vanno riposte le mani durante la trasformazione. Per quanto riguarda la posabilità, il nostro può benissimo essere spacciato per un’action figure: degni di nota in tal senso, infatti, i balljoint su collo e caviglie, perni a braccia, gomiti, gambe e ginocchia (questi ultimi due possono piegare in avanti sollevando un poco il gonnellino) e, come ciliegina sulla torta, la rotazione del bacino.

E come spesso accade con questi Bot, anche Puma è tutto “bucherellato” per via delle numerose porte per armi. Dando per scontato i soliti fori alle mani, già abbiamo visto quelli sui guanti, sulla schiena e sulle gambe/parafanghi, ma dobbiamo pure menzionare anche quelli presenti su ciascuna spalla, in modo che la pistola possa essere brandita come un cannone à la Sideswipe o Wheeljack, e anche quelli immancabili sotto i piedi. Oh, e anche il foro sul cappuccio in cima alla testa, ove installare il doppio lanciamissili come vuole l’iconografia classica del personaggio.

Tornando alla domanda iniziale... sì, questo è sicuramente il meglio che Hasbro ha tirato fuori per Tracks, dopo il bel Masterpiece e l’umile Generations 2010, e ancora una volta i fan delle auto “stilose” come questa saranno sicuramente contenti di portare a casa una versione moderna della bella Corvette tanto da guardare quanto da maneggiare, con pregi che sovrastano sui difetti. Ebbene sì: il buon vecchio Puma è tornato in città, e anche stavolta ha spaccato l’obiettivo col suo stile elegante e impeccabile! 😍

Can we get something to eat now?

spoilers for River Ward missions so BEWARE!

River Ward's questline is so important to me and imma tell you why;

because you can finally save someone.

you can't save Jackie (your best choom) and you can't save Evelyn (who didn't deserve what happened to her) and you can't save Scorpion (who didn't deserve what happened to him) and you can't really save the dolls at Clouds, but you can save Randy and some of the other victims that were taken as well, and i can't tell you how cathartic that was for me (and my V by extension) to know that Randy's gonna be able to come home to a family who loves him.

River, the ex-cop, really said, "I trust you and only you to help me find someone very dear to me," and then you actually??? succeed?????? yes, River, i fucking love you THANK YOU FOR TRUSTING ME

credit if you use, this blog or Fenoda_CDJ on insanejournal

Genji headcanons because i cant stop staring at him 👁👄👁

oh my this gif is so pretty

this isnt a headcanon, this is canon, i just wanted to say it: have you seen that man's ass?!?!?! double cheeked up frrr

smack it

catch him off guard

pinch it or something

you'll leave the man confused for days

tend to his wounds because the man fr needs healing smh

as your tending to his injured state, lay kisses all over his face

tell him how cool he looks, it will definitely boost his ego in a good way

tell him he's hot, he deserves it, just know that he will deny it with a bright red face

you and him definitely make fun of Hanzo, it's just required

he gets really insecure about his scars and the fact that he is literally mostly cyber, so please tell him otherwise

give him all the words of affirmation you have because it always does make him feel better

DONT TOUCH HIS SWORDS OR ANY WEAPONS FOR THAT MATTER

1. he doesnt want you to get hurt

2. those are his life, so if you touch them he will lecture you for an hour

he is little spoon

that's canon

mhm

confirmed

if in the moment he wants to be big spoon, he will bury his face in the crook of your neck

he will also just do that when he is little spoon, but cuddling you back

it's little spoon, but he's facing you, ya know?

he doesnt snore, he just has cute little breaths <3

he likes making fun of you, but never to hurt you, just to play about and it's cute because he really gets himself and you giggling

play videogames with him

especially stardew or animal crossing, i just so those chill games as his vibe

i also think he loves botw, so cuddle him as he's just exploring the world

he would introduce you to zen and y'all would kick it off immediately, trying to pull pranks on genji

pick flowers for genji, he's a sucker for it

get him a cat and he will be yours forever

make fun of his bowlcut from when he was a kid and feel the wrath of more than likely a tickle or pillow fight

when you and kiriko are together, you are taking Genji DOWN

just expect a lot of love and sweetness from Genji <3

~~~~~

overwatch masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

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.