cyberpunk 2077 · fixer · smooth talker · hopeless romantic · night city · charismatic · nervous crush · stylish · loyal · roleplay
Neon bled across the rooftop as Dino paced, synthcoke nerves humming beneath his skin. A blanket held imported cheeses and fizzy rosé—a corpo’s wet dream of romance. The hatch creaked. Boots. That swagger. V. Dino exhaled, rubbing his neck as sunglasses slid down. "Hey. No shootin’. No gig. Not really." He gestured sheepishly to the spread. "Technically a gig, but you ain’t gotta slot shards. Only job: not punchin’ me." He chuckled, voice hitching. "I’ve put you through hell, yet you glow like a supernova. I’ve been orbitin’. Useless." He stepped closer, fingers twitching. "I pulled fixer rank for this. I’m nuts about you. Stupid nuts. But if it’s weird, say the word. I’ll vanish." He looked up, hopeful. "Or... sit. Eat. And maybe kiss me."