Anteros

18+ blog usually :3

[spiralingants]

our favourite rockerboy!!

[minovskyy]

yes this is an exploration of guilt and culpability but it could also be a sex thing if you just give me a minute

[axxurboy]

sleepy girls want to be woken up with your tip pressing into their holes

[vamplire]

HEY that's MY emotional support morally ambiguous misunderstood full of trauma touch starved yearning for love drenched in blood responsible for numerous atrocities comfort character who is TRYING & u will TREAT them with RESPECT

[senseandaccountability]

Something something something.

[mrartemystic]

i’ll see ya ‘round, johnny (2026)

let me hug cyber keanu reeves, cdpr ☹️

[anterosss]

SOBBING

[bbyviolakayworks]

In another life,

this may be different

[anterosss]

Malorian Arms

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Summary: One unsatisfying fling after the next, V makes an unusual acquaintance with a cop, and there's a rockstar in her head that won't let her forget about it.

Notes: FemVxSilverhand. First fic I've written in a reaaaally long time, but Johnny Silverhand headcanons are doing something fierce to me.. basically horny angst lol

Warning: 18+, MDNI, drugs/sex

Words: 2381

Insp.By: @d33pwithinmys0ul

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

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The dolls I’ve met are always too sweet when I’ve poured my eddies into them, and can somehow only manage to make them feel good. Its never terrible, they're good at what they do, but something feels lacking. Johnny tries to talk me out of every transfer, and by the time it goes through, he scoffs, and glitches away in a flash. Never before a snarky remark along the lines of, “Can't wait to be half-chubbed for the next two hours, gee thanks V!”

The dolls clearly aren't doing it for me. I need a break.

A few weeks flew by before stumbling into River Ward.

Pleading for help on his missing nephew’s case, my hard exterior cracked, obviously I’d help. After a few jobs, and a rescue by the stubborn cop’s side, I could feel him growing on me, in an unwilling way, like a parasite. The sideways, curious glances he sent my way, the attention, the way he wanted my company. It felt good. Letting myself go to his house was my first mistake. His family loved me, pointing out that River had already mentioned me to them. I enjoyed how close they all were, finding myself slightly resentful of it. After a few beers in the cyberware, and a few too many lustful gazes, I found myself staring into the mirror of the family’s shared bathroom. River quietly hummed to the radio in his room.

“You’re not really considering this, ARE YOU?” The dark haired man taunted.

A sigh escaped me, looking into his reflection, before turning around and resting against the sink. “He clearly has some sort of passion?” I pieced together, reluctantly. Johnny gave a sly smile, “Do you even think he’s hot?” I rolled my eyes, shaking my head at the inflated rockstar, “Johnny just go wherever it is you go,”

“Not an answer, sweetheart,”

“He’s fine. He’s better than what I have been doing!”

We both paused, Johnny’s usual smile dulled.

“And what does it even fucking matter to you? You got your date with Rogue! Just let me have this, dude.”

Johnny chuckled, “At least take another shot.. you're going to need it, kid.” His fuzzy, opaque figure disappeared.

Fuck.

I splashed cold liquid on my face, and rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes. Stepping out of the bathroom, peering at River’s room to the right, then the kitchen to the left. Spotting me, River’s gaze softens, “V, you look stunning.” I give him a curt smile, “Thanks.. River.” God, that’s gross.

I mumble something about needing another beer, turning on my heel, headed into the lowly lit kitchen. The rest of the house is sound asleep, the hum of the fish tank breaks through the deafening spiral of a self monologue. I crack another beer, and unscrew the tequila. Johnny appears, lounging, and kicks his feet onto the dining room table, a shit-eating grin plastered to his face.

He’s a cop, what am I doing?

He doesn't say anything. Just watches as I take a swig from the tequila bottle, and chase it with half a beer. I pop another open.

I stalk towards River’s room, fuzzy and annoyed.

His midriff was showing, teasing. With his coat hung by the door, and his shoes kicked off, he leaned back on his bed. I tried to focus on the curve of his v line and my beer. His gaze was dark with lust, it felt heavy just stepping in there. I gently shut the door behind me, “Took you awhile, you alright?”

I pass him the half empty beer, “Help me finish this?”

He agrees without hesitation and I plant myself next to him on the bed. His hand rests on my thigh, trailing light circles and staring holes into the side of my head.

“You’d better get your ass in gear, V, ‘fore he starts bearing his soul or some shit,” Johnny’s muffled voice sounds from the hallway.

I take a drink of my beer, and set it on River’s night stand. I gaze into his eye – eyes – if you count the mechanical one. We lean in for a kiss, his lips crashing into mine. He's fast, and trying to use tongue. Key word, trying.

I don’t know if shoving your tongue down someone’s throat counts as frenching, but if it does, you could call him Jules fucking Maigret.

River revealed his bulky body, pulling his shirt over his head, mine following suit. I traced my hands along his stomach, caressing the sides of his hips. I work on his pants, pulling them down his legs and encouraging him to lean back. He does just that, submitting to me without a second word. I sigh, and lick a stripe up his stomach.

“Christ, can’t believe you’re making me fuck a cop. Gonna go plug my ears, gouge my eyes out,” Johnny groaned out, as soon as I revealed any sign of consciousness.

“C’mon- not that bad.”

I sat up in River’s bed, rubbing my temples, attempting to soothe my increasing nerves. I should not have done that, he’s a fucking cop. What am I going to say to him?

“Yeah kid, you know they don’t mean it literally when they say fuck the police,” Johnny’s smug voice spoke, his tall figure leaning on the door frame.

“-no good way this’ll end.”

“Christ- Johnny, I fucking know that, alright?”

I looked up at him, studying his features for a moment. His crossed arms, his disapproving look, his fidgety hands, why can’t he just leave me to do what I want?

“Because we’re stuck together. Like glue, kid. And don't fool yourself, you don’t want that pig.” He pointed.

As much as I hated when the terrorist was right, he was right - and I hated it even more when he knew he was right. I heaved a sigh, “I know, but he wasn't that bad?”

“He’s BALD for Christ’s sake, V!” Johnny threw his hands up.

I choked on some laughter at the exclamation, and shook my head to myself, “Yeah..”

I rose and tugged my jeans on. Johnny mumbled something incoherent and ducked out of the room, glitching down the hall. With my shoes on, I wanted to just head out the front door and never see this place again.

“Hey sleepyhead , you’re finally up.”

Ugh.

“Hey River, sorry if you’ve been up for awhile,” I stepped into the kitchen, where he leaned against the counter, hot mug of coffee in hand. “I made a pot, you sticking around?”

I looked at him, how blunt can I be?

“Sorry, River. I’ve got to get going.”

“Will I see you soon?”

“You’ll see me sometime.”

He stood there, slightly bewildered, “This didn't mean anything to you? I like you, V.”

“It was just sex, River. I have too many things to deal with, to get caught up in…. whatever this might be.”

“You know that doesn't matter to me, I want you and your baggage.”

Johnny paces behind me, clearly wired on our shared anxiety. “Just leave it, see you around.” Before he can protest again, I rub his shoulder, give a half-hearted look of sympathy, and turn to leave. Joss is outside on the porch, “Your house is lovely!” I call to her as I pass. River is standing on the porch, waiting as I get into my car. I reverse out of the trailer park in a hurry, finally letting my breath escape en route to my apartment.

“What a shitshow. You're a fucking merc, V. You seriously this anxious all the damn time?”

I white knuckle my steering wheel, using my right hand to rummage around in my backseat.

“Smoke a cigarette or something, for the love of God.”

I find my backpack, and pull it into my lap, quickly grabbing a joint out and tucking it behind my ear.

“That-”

“Is good enough, Johnny. Now stop complaining and help me find a lighter.”

“I know about as much as you do, probably in the glovebox.” He laughs. Its a sound that I’m growing fond of, I think. Johnny pulls a cigarette out of the air, flicking his lighter to it, and taking a deep inhale. “I wish I could just use yours, that thing’s wicked.” I say, as I try to peer at the lighter.

“We made a few back in the day, nothing like this one though,” he admires his lighter.

I dig through the glovebox, reaching over Johnny’s ghostly digital appearance. I groan, flicking my eyes back and forth between my hands and the road. I finally give up, opting for the far more dangerous approach.

The Malorian Arms.

Pulling the pistol out of the backseat, I pop the joint in between my lips. “Hey kid- don't go fucking around,” Johnny spoke, eyebrows raised in surprise.

I cast a glance towards the rockstar, a slight smirk making its way to my lips. “I’m a professional, chill.”

He scoffs and attempts to grab at the gun, “You're gonna blow your fucking face off, kid-” he starts to get antsy. I swat his digital hands away, “You trust me, don't you?” I smile at him.

Without another word, I point the barrel up and fire off a heat round. It casts a wave of fire and I quickly puff on my joint to get it going, and avoid burning more than I have to. I spin the gun on my finger, reload it, and set it on my center console. I look over at Johnny, his usual smug face had turned into something else – something darker, something predatory.

“Fuck, V… why’d you have to do that..” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, staring lasers into the side of my skull. His dark orbs tracking my every move, the part of my lips, my deep inhale of the smoke, and the way I savour the taste.

“Stop the car, I gotta stretch.”

“You're an engram, Johnny, you can get out if -”

“V, just stop the damn car.”

I bring the car to a halt, Johnny nearly jumps out. I roll my eyes, puffing and pulling my way through my joint contently. I finally feel my nerves settle. I peer at Johnny, who is leaned against the Porsche, tapping his foot and squirming. I tuck the Malorian in it’s holster, and get out of the car as well.

“What crawled up your ass now, rockstar?” I saunter over and lean next to him, offering my joint. He scoffs, shakes his head, and looks away towards the rising sun.

“Can it, kid.”

I look him up and down, noticing the uncomfortable bulge he seems to be dealing with. I smile and take a deep inhale, letting the smoke fill my lungs and exhaling in Johnny’s direction.

“This gun,”

Johnny snaps his head to look at me, his attention clearly grabbed.

“Is like an extension of you, you know.” I say, langurously. He watches me slowly as I take it out, and turn it over in my hands. I puff on the joint hanging out my lips as I inspect the pistol.

“I’m glad its getting some use, by someone who's not a gonk.” He mumbles. I finally toss the roach to the dirt and stomp it out. “It’s been so useful to me, Johnny.” I gaze at him.

“Quit it,”

“Quit what?”

“Quit being all genuine, and…” He trails off.

“And quit being so hot?”

He doesn't say anything but rolls his eyes. I smile and bring the gun up closer eye level. I caress the barrel and examine it, exhaling in awe of the craftsmanship. Johnny shifts and shoves his hands in his pockets, sweat starting to sprout on his thick brow.

Feeling the dewy morning air, the fresh high I’m riding, and way Johnny is staring at me, an idea sparks into my head.

“V. Chill.”

“You aren’t used to how good it feels to just be just stoned, are you, rockstar?”

“Don’t start some shit you don’t wanna finish, kid.”

“Who said I don’t wanna finish?”

“Your brain, last night. When it was convincing yourself you don't need to.” He spits out.

I look at Johnny through my lashes, and lick the revolving chamber of the pistol, oiling it with my saliva and clicking it back into place.

Before I can blink, Johnny has me pinned between himself and the car. “Do it again.” He grabs my wrist, bringing the gun up to my lips. I lick a line up the barrel, his tall figure staring down at my actions.

“Fuuuuck, V.” He draws out.

His grip on my wrist tightens, and in one motion, its pinned above me and his lips are on mine.

I didn’t think we could, touch.

I let the gun escape my grasp, it falls onto the roof of the Porsche. His other hand goes to touch the base of my back, I gasp when I actually feel his cold metal fingers. He takes the opportunity to deepen our kiss, both of us drinking the other like water.

“What the fuck is happening-” I pull away and pant. I quickly reach for the Malorian and tuck it in my waistband. He opens the back door and pushes me inside.

“No fucking clue,” Johnny crawls in after me, shutting the door behind him.

“I had to listen.. I had to watch… I had to feel that fucking gonk stumble his way around you.” He pulls his shirt off and tugs his boots off my feet.

“All of those gonks-” he huffs. I cut him off and pull him towards me, where our lips crash once more. Johnny pauses.

“They're not even half as good as I am, kid. You’re fucking doomed.” He smugly smiles at me, and stares threateningly - knowing just how wet I’m getting.

“Doomed to fuck you?”

“And only me.”

“Sounds lucky to me,” I wet my lips and sink my fangs into his neck, biting snd sucking down to his collarbones. I grasp at his belt and undo it, sliding his pants off and tossing them in the front seat.

“-been waiting for this.” Johnny pulls my jeans off too, tossing them into the unknown.

“Thought I wasn’t Silverhand’s type?”

“You fucking know you are,” he glares at me.

“Always have been.”