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“It's Night City, Muamar. People die every day.”
“So I've noticed.”
You massage your sore neck gingerly; you'd think your body would adapt to being hunched over in the driver's seat to avoid bullets while still trying to peer over the dash.
Comforting people? Not exactly your strong suit.
~It’s weird how I'm more in tune to these things than you
~You’re not more in tune. You just bring it up while I choose to ignore it, Johnny
You pull the champagne out of the bucket of ice, pressing it to your face. You sigh in relief at the cool surface; carjacking always made you sweat.
“I got that for you to drink, V.”
You shrug, untwisting the cap and taking a sip. Refreshing, decadent even; Muamar never cheaped out on you. This was worth probably three of your gigs.
“Go on, Queen, check out your new ride.”
You place the bottle down and amble over, running your hand across the hood appreciatively. “What's her name?”
He laughs, gritty like sandpaper. “Her Majesty.”
You open the door and slide in, taking in the luxurious interior. “Spoiling me.”
“Mhm.”
You snap your fingers and point to the champagne you left behind.
“Ain't your butler,” he grumbles, but brings it over to you anyway.
You angle your head to the passenger seat. “Join me.”
“Not in the celebrating mood.”
“Suit yourself.” You go for the bottle in his hand, but he holds it above you just out of reach.
“What's the magic word?”
~In a piss poor mood and still flirting. Gotta admire the commitment
~So it would be a public service to flirt back, right?
~Fine, V. Just leave me out if it
You raise your brows. “Hideshi.”
He furrows his, confused. “What?”
“Oh, thought you said ‘safeword.’”
He groans, thrusting the bottle at you. “Keep your weird kinks to yourself.”
“Honest mistake.” You take another swallow of champagne, before offering him the bottle.
“Told you. Not in the celebrating mood.”
“It will make you feel better,” you urge, pulling on his glove. The fabric is worn down; why does he wear it all the time?
“Doubt it.” Still, he joins you in the passenger seat.
“Tell me, Cap.” You take another swig for liquid courage. “Why do you only wear one glove?”
“What, you the fashion police?”
“Hate to cover up that nice ink, huh?” You trace the tattoos on his other arm, watching the goosebumps rise under your touch.
“Wouldn’t have an excuse to touch me, otherwise.” He smirks, knowing exactly what you're up to. The muscles in his forearm ripple when you squeeze it teasingly.
“Not necessarily. Got these, too.” You run your hand down his calf, fingering the tattoos there. “Makes me think you're hiding something under there.”
“The ladies like a little mystery.” He pours some champagne in his mouth.
“Thought you weren't-” you're interrupted when he pulls you into a kiss, feeding you the bittersweet liquid. Sucking on your tongue after you swallow.
“Just wanted a taste.” He licks the few drops that spilled out of your mouth in surprise.
“And? You like it?” You climb into his lap, with a coy smile.
“Not sure.” He tips your head back and pours some champagne in your mouth. “Let me have another taste.”
You kiss him deeply, letting the liquor slowly trickle down his throat.
He squeezes your hips, flesh spilling out between his fingers. “For a Queen of brute force, you've got a real talented tongue.”
“I like to think of myself as diverse.” You raise yourself on your knees, tugging your shirt off. You shove his shoulders lower so you can settle his chin between your breasts. “Would you like another demonstration?”
“Hmm, why not?” Like he could go either way, when he's half-chubbed in his shorts.
You drip the champagne down your decolletage carefully, and he laps it up, sucking a bruise on your cleavage.
“So? Feel any better?”
He puts on a thoughtful face. “Maybe a little.”
Your laugh is clear, bubbly like the champagne. “Happy to help.”
He lifts you up and sets you back on your seat. “I know your secret, Majesty.”
You look at him in mild surprise. “What's that?”
“Cold exterior.” He leans in and kisses your cheek. “Warm on the inside.”
“Don't know what you're talking about.” You start the car, revving the engine to hurry him out.
“Probably the only one in the city who'd let me drink champagne off her tits just to make me feel better.”
You roll your eyes, trying to hide the blush on your face. “Maybe I was just horny.”
He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “Allowed to admit you give a shit, you know. Won't take from your badass Merc reputation.”
You tap your pistol, winking at him. “Breathe a word of that, and I'll finish you off myself.”
“Finish me off? Interesting threat.”
You shove him lightly. “Get out, Muamar, before I shoot you.”
He takes off his jacket and covers you with it, putting your shirt on the dash. “Alright I'm going, don't get your panties in a twist.”
He gets out and waves, lifting the garage door in the process.
You drive away, as the warmth he left on his jacket dissipates.
“Looks good on you.”
You strike a cheesy pose, just in case he wants to take the compliment back.
He laughs, shaking his head. Knows your game, won't play along.
~Think he's into you, V. Has good taste in everything except that
~You’re just jealous he has a limo
~Speaking of which, when we picking up my ride
~When you quit being such an ass, Johnny
~Oh that's never gonna happen
“Like it so much, Cap, you can have it.” You shrug off the Edgerunners jacket, holding it out to him.
“Rather have my own back.”
You pout, dragging your heels to your passenger seat and pulling out his jacket. You'd kinda wanted to keep it. Looks good on you. Makes you feel cozy when you wear it.
You tell yourself it's the fabric, Muamar always buys the good stuff.
“Act like you're hung up on it.” He comments, taking it from you. “Just left it in your car like yesterday's scopdog. Didn't wash it or anything.”
You make a grab for it and he holds it behind his back.
“Couldn't bear to wash it. Smelled like you.”
“Mhm. You're really broken up, I can tell.” He remarks sarcastically, slipping it on before you can steal it back.
“Fine. I want something in return.”
He chuckles, shaking his head at your antics. “I'm taking back what's mine. Why should I give you anything in return?”
You poke your finger where the neckline of his shirt meets his bare chest. Testing him.
He crosses his arms, raising a brow. Not stopping you.
You walk your fingers up to his Adam's apple, veering to the side to play with his chains.
He sighs like he's annoyed, but inclines his head anyway. Letting you lift his dog tags off.
“Just don't sell ‘em.” He warns, his eyes twinkling when you put the chain on and tuck the tags into to a cup of your bra.
“No one will know. Just me n you.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him, but he turns his face so you get the side of his cheek.
“Go on, Queen. Got shit to do, I'm sure.”
You drive off, the cold of the metal against your breast adjusting to your body heat.
“You know, Cap, when you said I could stay over I thought you were going to stay with me.”
You lay down on Muamar's bed, turning on his TV. There's no way he believes you're low on rent despite your assertions, so you assumed he took your feeble lie and ran with it because he wanted to hook up.
~Like a cozy bed and breakfast. Without the couple next door going at it so loud you can’t masturbate in peace
~Got an anecdote about that, Johnny?
~Too lazy to tell it
~You’re in my head, nothing you can do besides talk
~Not true, I can watch this guy turn you down. Super interesting
“You need a place to crash, I ain't using this apartment right now. Win, win.”
“This apartment?” You give him an interested once-over. “How many do you have?”
“More than you need to know.” He turns away when you pull your top off and toss it onto the nightstand. “Mhm, just make yourself at home.”
“Don't you want to see how good your tags look on me?” You crawl provocatively on the mattress towards him, but he doesn't look back.
“I know they do.” He clears his throat, motioning to the kitchen. “There's groceries in the fridge. Take out menus on top of the microwave. If you wanna cook, don't burn the house down. I'll be back in the afternoon.”
“Leaving me all alone for 24 hours in your little one bedroom? You sure this place will even be standing tomorrow?” You tease, and he laughs, still facing away.
“Have fun, V.”
You settle back onto the bed, changing the channel to a corny sitcom.
“Oh, and this apartment is on loan to you only. So don't bring any guys over. Or girls.”
You try to keep the smugness out of your voice when you respond. “And if I get lonely?”
“You got fingers, V. Use em.”
“But yours are bigger.”
You try not to giggle when you see him look down at his hands, curling them gently into fists.
“You're just trying to make life hard for me, aren't you, Queen?”
“Well, is it working?”
He finally turns around and looks you up and down, making a biting motion with his mouth as his eyes linger on the dog tags draped down your cleavage.
You clench down tightly, even more so when his lips stretch into a smirk.
“Nah.”
He leaves, whistling casually.
~Damn, this guy is good
~Coming from Night City’s number one dead playboy. Quite a compliment
It's rare for you to take a night off; you only did it this time thinking you'd get to see the great Capitán naked.
Seems like you could really use the rest though. You doze off quickly, waking up to a knock when the food you ordered.
Grabbing the first shirt you see, a large faded tee folded on the nightstand that reaches your knees, you pull it on quickly and get the door.
The man hands you a large bag, shaking his head when you try to transfer him some credits.
“We never charge Capitán. He saved my daughter's life.”
“I mean, I'm not him but I appreciate free food.”
You look in the bag, seeing way more than you ordered. “Think you gave me someone else's-”
“Put it in the fridge and eat it tomorrow. So Capitán knows we treat his girl right too.”
He gives you a knowing smile and leaves.
~How many girls you think he's had over, Johnny?
~His money and status? More than you wanna know
You're pulled from a dreamless sleep by a hand wrapped around your ankle.
You start awake, lashing out with your monowire instinctively.
“Be careful waving that thing around.” Muamar scolds, looking at the rip in his glove from where he blocked your whip. “Could take someone's eye out.”
“Who wakes someone up like that?” You harp, getting up to get a closer look at his arm. “Did I get you?”
“Kidding. Got this caught on barbed wire last night. Also I've been calling your name for two minutes. Figured you needed a jolt.”
Food must've conked you out good. “Barbed wire? Fun night I take it.”
“In a way.” He cocks his head. “Borrowed my night shirt I see.”
“Told me to make myself at home.” You raise your arms over your head. “You can take it back if you want.”
“Looks like you need it more than I do.” He points at your legs.
You look down and see a spot of blood.
Shit. No wonder you were so down bad for him yesterday.
~Ah, menstrual cramps. Just another thing I’m forced to experience thanks to you, Her Majesty
“Sorry. I'll wash this.” You turn to look at the sheets, and see a spot there too. “And those.” Figures the one time you stay at his place you get your damn period.
“Don't worry about it.” He rummages around the dresser and pulls out a pair of sweats. “And take these.”
“Thanks.” You try to look calm as you put on his pants, even though you wish you could sink into the floor and disappear. “See you later.”
“Nu uh.” He angles his head towards the bathroom. “Don’t want you to bleed all over your preem ride and all.”
Your eyes bulge out. “You have-”
“Tampons? Pads? Whichever you prefer.” He doesn't look the least bit uncomfortable, unlike you who want to evaporate into thin air. “Not my first rodeo.”
You snort, partly in disbelief and partly because you have no other idea how to respond. “What does that even mean?!”
~That you're not the only one he's had over, duh. Thought we went over this
~That he's a player, sure. Not whatever this is
~Hey I was right! Cozy bed and breakfast!
~You are enjoying this too much, Johnny
~Someone’s got to
“What? Jealous?”
Now he's even teasing you to make the situation lighter. Easier for you.
Fuck. You really underestimated the great Capitán.
“Very.” You regain your senses and hop off the bed, walking to the restroom. “Might even break your mirror out of spite.”
“Wouldn’t be the first.”
~Is it weird I'm starting to respect this Reyes dude
~Maybe I'm rubbing off on you too
~God forbid
It feels too weird, seeing Muamar like this. A caring, or at least considerate choom.
You'd wanted a good fuck. Or maybe what you wanted was to feel sexy and free.
Not squatting on the toilet, an ache in your stomach that has nothing to do with arousal.
Disappointingly human. That's how you feel now.
There's a rapping of knuckles on the door. “If you want a shower, there's clean towels in the cabinet.”
A shower! Muamar, you beautiful, helpful bastard. You know how to make yourself feel better now.
“Don't mind if I do, Cap.”
The water helps wash away the stain of embarrassment. Of vulnerability.
You scrub thoroughly so your skin will be soft and smooth.
You make sure your bleeding has stopped before you wrap a towel around your waist. Leaving your top bare, dog tags glistening from the water.
You glide outside the bathroom, making Muamar choke on his coffee when he gets an eyeful.
“Cap?”
He coughs and hacks multiple times until his windpipe is free.
“What's up, Majesty?” Sounding casual like his face isn't traffic light red.
“Can I borrow a pair of your boxers too?”
His lips twitch, a smile breaking through despite his efforts to keep a straight face.
“Why are you constantly taking my clothes, V?”
You shrug innocently. “Low on funds. Can't afford rent, can't afford new duds.”
“Like I don't pay you good money for those gigs,” he chides, nodding to the dresser. “Top drawer.”
You walk towards it, but he changes his mind.
“Wait! Let me get it.”
You're tempted to beat him to it and yank it open, to see what he suddenly wants to hide.
But you know, everyone has their secrets.
Everyone deserves to have them.
“Pick out a sexy pair,” you demand, and he hands you one with smiley faces all over it.
He cuts you off before you can make fun of him.
“Sexiest one I have, promise.”
“Guess everyone has their own definition.” You decide to keep the towel on until you get back to the bathroom. You've given him enough of a hard time.
~Would be a hell of a way to thank him
~Why you still here, Johnny?
~Well you two aren't getting anywhere, so I don't have to go yet
~Fair enough
~I see what you're doing, by the way. Or what you're trying not to do
~What am I doing or trying not to do, Johnny?
~Classic self-sabotage. He's trying to show you he gives a shit. You're making it all about sex
~You mean you're not all about sex?
~I was. Kinda like seeing myself in the mirror. A less stylish, more unlikeable version of myself
~Cause you're so likable
~I’m sunshine personified
“I’m looking at mine.”
You try not to gape at him, the smooth words he just said at odds with the uneven tone and lack of eye contact.
“Now hurry up and get dressed. Need some peace and quiet.”
His confident voice is back as he pushes you to the bathroom.
You get changed quickly, finding an assortment of hygiene products in his medicine cabinet.
~Johnny can't believe you were right. We're in a b&b
~Should be used to it by now, V
When you're finished, you collect all your belongings and head for the door.
Muamar is on the holo, but his eyes flick over to you, dressed head to toe in his clothes.
The corner of his eyes crinkle ever so slightly.
It's barely there and gone in a blink. But you feel a pang in your chest that you can't explain, so strong that you’re struck still.
His eyes focus back to his call, and you convince your weak knees to carry you out the door.
Ever since that night in the apartment, you've been craving rest. Peaceful nights.
It feels wrong. Maybe it is.
Nights are made for sabotage, for thievery, for getting blackout drunk at a bar and passing out for an hour, only to be woken up when someone gropes you or the barkeeper wants you to move.
You can infiltrate a club, zero a VIP, catch a celeb red-handed in the middle of dirty biz.
Which you do. Not giving up your rep, because people are remembering your name now, recommending you for bigger and better things. Hell, you've scared punks off with just your name. You're not just a dead woman walking anymore, a screw-up who blew a job and lost her best friend.
Not giving that up over something as trivial as falling asleep wrapped up in his clothes and a blanket.
And when you see a blue flashing wheel, you're damned sure gonna klep it.
“You're slipping, V. Late by half a minute.”
The disappointed tone raises your hackles, makes you want to snap at him, tell him off. But it makes the memory of that chest ache fade more and more, and that's good enough to keep you quiet.
“Gotta dock your pay.”
“That's fair, Cap.” It's not; no one can go four kilometers in two minutes without getting tailed by NCPD. But excuses don't make a legend.
“Still got some goodies for you. Check the box.” Even digitized over the holo, his voice is smooth as silk. Reminds you of the curve of his lips when he grins. You'd almost forgive him for his ridiculous deadlines if they didn't keep getting more and more impossible. “And I'm one call away if you need me.”
“You got it, Cap.”
“Later, Queen.”
You hang up, digging into the box to pull out some components and a shiny new tech rifle. Even without the bonus eds, Muamar never skimps.
~He’d be a great sugar daddy if you needed the dough. And if you knew how to work him
~Oh, you’re the real people pleaser, Johnny
~Don’t I know it
The Afterlife. The bar where legends drink. With the amount of jobs you've handled, you think you deserve to have a drink named after you too. Maybe there will be, after you take down Mikoshi.
A bottle smashed next to your face wakes you from your lucid dream.
“Sorry, V. Cockroach.”
You look at the counter, then back at Claire. “Where, exactly?”
“Ran off.” You look closely and see a bit of blood among the shards.
“The kind on two legs?”
“The worst kind.” She leans in closer, as do you. “Had his hand in your pocket and everything.”
“Not like there's anything to steal.” You don't keep cash on you.
“Think he was going for something else.”
You shudder in disgust and she nods sympathetically.
“Go home, V. Get some sleep.”
“Kicking me out? That's cold, considering I won three races for you.”
“You've been here every night for a week. Running on fumes, even if you feel sharp. Need rest. Everyone does.”
You roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless. Friends are few and far between in Night City, you're glad to have her.
“Called a ride for you. Waiting outside.”
“You're the best.” You transfer her a huge tip, which she doesn't cancel for the first time this week.
You stumble outside, waving goodbye to Emmerick.
You search the parking lot for Del, but you spot another car instead.
You walk over and lean against the limo suggestively. The window rolls down, and an amused Muamar gives you a look.
“Need some company tonight?” You simper, and he taps his chin in thought.
“No thanks.”
He rolls the window back up and you cackle, straightening up unsteadily.
The door opens and you fall into his lap.
“Fun night, Queen?”
You play with the zipper on his jacket. Leaning your cheek on his bare chest. “Getting there.”
He pulls your legs further into the car so he can close the door without bumping you. He instructs his driver, giving him the address of your apartment.
“You know where I live?” You give him a pretend suspicious stare.
“I know you got two places, paid in full for a year.” He adjusts you so you're not sitting directly on his prominent boner. “Who do you think was the intermediary for those properties?”
“Got your hooks everywhere, Muamar?” You loop your arms around his neck.
“Mhm.” He looks like he doesn't want you to push. So you don't.
“So, Claire said she called me a ride. You here to make good on that?”
~Look at you, making him comfortable with a joke like he did before. You're a match made in mushy heaven. I got to puke
~Look away, Johnny, I think I'm gonna blow him
~I’m outta here
“If you're expecting anything besides a drive, I got bad news for you.” His hands hold your waist lightly, only tightening the grip when his driver hits a pothole and it bounces you up and down.
Feeling his dick brush back and forth on your ass makes your panties wet with slick. You clamp your legs together tightly to lessen the ache growing in your cunt.
“The road sure is bumpy,” you comment offhandedly, rubbing your thighs together hoping he'll notice.
One of his hands kneads your side roughly, and you barely hold in a whimper.
“Think Peralez will ‘allocate funds to improve infrastructure’ like his commercials say?” He asks conversationally, like he hasn't just started grinding into your ass.
Your breath comes out in pants as he works you over with every roll of his hips.
By the time you pull up to your apartment complex, you've soaked through your pants and his are damp too.
Which is why you're completely flabbergasted when he puts the hand on the small of your back and tries to scoot you off his lap.
“Uh… what are you doing?” Your voice cracks and his is winded as well when he responds, making his words even more unbelievable.
“Dropping you off.” He opens the door and nudges you forward.
“...that's it?”
He applies more pressure to your back until you spring off him like he's a landmine.
~About as unpredictable, I'd say
~Why don't you ever stay gone, Johnny?!
~It gets boring
“Like I said, V.” He acts like he's the one who should be confused, but he can't meet your eye. “Don't expect anything besides a drive.”
You feel your face flush, not from lust but humiliation. He's making you walk up to your apartment alone with bottoms drenched like you'd been creaming in your pants from a BD.
“If you're gonna say things like that-”
“Just because you're all over me doesn't mean I owe you a good fuck.”
Your stomach drops, but you’re not going to let him have the last word.
“You don't owe me shit, Capitán. But next time you say something, stick to it.”
You stalk up the stairs to your unit, every jeer and catcall from your neighbors furthering the burn on your cheeks.
As your fame grows, you no longer need to take every job tossed your way.
You tell yourself this, every time you're in Santo Domingo, sending all his calls to voicemail and ignoring his texts. You know they're just gonna be about work, anyway.
But old habits die hard, and your pride will only allow you to pass over a small amount of jobs.
Which is why you continue to take vehicle gigs.
“Don't scratch the paint on this one.”
He doesn't even bother staying on the holo anymore, just calls you at the start and finish of each grab and dash.
You’ve got a steady supply of eddies these days, so you don't need a bonus.
That's what you tell yourself every time you purposely fail his little challenges.
In this case, you arrive at the drop point with no doors left and one small collision short of an explosion.
His wrench jockey doesn't bat an eye, probably used to haphazard drivers, but Muamar is livid when he calls you.
“What did I say, V?!”
“Paint’s fine. Doors on the other hand…”
Johnny's snicker is the cherry on top.
“I expect this from other drivers, maybe, but not from you.”
Johnny materializes, giving you a thumbs up when you offer a cool, ‘you get what you get.’
“And what you get is paid less.” He snaps, hanging up.
Sure, he talks a big game. But there's still a discount code and sniper rifle in the box nearby.
~He’s not over you. Curious
~Just a good fixer, Johnny. Doesn't let emotions in the way
~Unlike you. You could've shaken that tail or shot them. ‘Stead you played bumper cars
~Don’t remember you complaining. Actually, you were egging me on
~Not criticizing. For once. Just making a point
~That I'm petty.
~That too. But mainly that you're not over him either
None of the Joytoys on Jig-jig look appealing, but you're stopped by one in the parking lot of Totentanz.
“Feeling lonely?” He purrs, grabbing your arm when you try to walk past.
Your first thought is to deck him for being handsy, but a better idea comes to mind.
“Depends.”
“On what, cutie?”
You try not to laugh. It seems comical, how you tried that on Muamar.
“Can I scroll it?”
~Damn, V, how horny are you today
~Not horny. Petty
“For the right price you can scroll anything, baby.”
“Car okay?”
“Don't have a room?”
You raise a brow. “That a problem?”
“Just want to make sure you can actually afford me.”
You transfer over three grand, exactly what you got paid earlier.
He opens the door to your backseat with a wink.
You slide in first, laying on your back with your legs spread.
He gets in after you, crawling on top of you and trying to kiss you. You stop him, scooting him back until his mouth is above your crotch.
He smirks, pulling your bottoms down to expose your pussy.
“Gonna start scrolling now.” You angle your body so your Kiroshis pick up just the top of his head and your thighs, and enough background to show you're in your car.
“Make us both stars, cutie.”
With that, he dives in. He's definitely experienced, but you're more intent on filming everything. Theatrical moans and arching your hips, you get a good thirty seconds before you cut the feed and pull away
“Thanks.” You motion to the door and he wipes his mouth with the back of his head, staring at you.
“Did I do something wrong?” He sounds scared, like you'll beat his ass because you didn't cum. Hell, maybe that's happened before.
“Nah you were great. Got what I needed already. Don't count on us being stars, though. This is just for one person.”
He nods, realization dawning. “Making someone jealous?”
“Showing them a missed opportunity,” you correct him with a wink.
“Can I give you a bit of advice?”
“Shoot.”
“Don't play games. You know what you want; go for it. Worst thing you can get is a no, right?”
~He’s right. Cept you already got one, so this is your crappy plan B
~Enjoy the show, Johnny?
~Just your pants back on
“I'll keep that in mind.” You nod towards the door and he gets out, leaving with one last wink.
You edit the clip so it's just a ten second loop of the best moment, and send it to Muamar.
*The number you are trying to reach has been disconnected. This is an automatic msg*
~He actually blocked you. So much for good fixer not letting emotions get in the way
~So, does this mean he's not interested anymore, or more interested?
~Honestly? No fucking clue
You do a double take when you walk into Totentanz. There, playing on three different screens, is your private little moment from a few minutes ago. From the exact angle as someone looking up from between your legs.
Your face is blurred out, though that's a byproduct of your tech and not the Joytoy’s discretion.
Your voice is clear enough, though you suppose it doesn't sound any different than other pornstars. Doesn't sound as bad as you’d expect.
In fact, you look like just any other Watson Whore, completely indistinguishable except maybe the glint of dog tags that have fallen out of your bra and are hanging down the side of your neck. But the cheap optics of the Joytoy can't pick up any details anyway.
~Damn, V, you're not even losing your shit. Respect
~I’ve had to relive your escapades, remember? Seeing my own isn't nearly as jarring
You do feel like knocking the teeth out of the Joytoy’s mouth, but it's for the disrespect and not for revealing an intimate moment that should be for Muamar’s eyes only.
That's what you tell yourself.
“Twenty grand to make it all go away.”
You turn and see the Joytoy himself, looking like the cat that got that cream. Which really, he hadn't.
He visibly shivers when you smile creepily at him, but blusters on. “And don't try deleting it from the servers, I have my own copy.”
“Clearly.”
“And I've uploaded it to the cloud. If you kill me, my roommate will upload it to the net. Good luck getting it taken down then.” He crosses his arms defiantly.
“Seems you've thought of everything.” Your smile hasn't dropped, and he masks his fear with arrogance.
“And now, I want thirty grand. Clock’s ticking.”
You twirl a strand of hair around your finger absentmindedly, like you're lost in thought. “Here's what I don't get. Why would I believe you'd delete it just because I paid you. You could take the money and upload it anyway.”
He laughs condescendingly. “Guess that's a chance that you have to take.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
In one motion you pull out your monowire and snap it like a whip at his head, narrowly missing his jugular and permanently damaging his faceplate instead. “Good luck finding someone who can fix that.”
He screams in pain, clutching the pieces of his face together.
“Go ahead and upload that video. But here's my number if you change your mind. I know there's only one person capable of putting you back together. And maybe he'll do it, once you delete the file.”
You don't make it three steps before he wails. “Wait! I'm deleting it now!”
“Oh? How do I know your roommate doesn't have a copy?”
“Please! You gotta believe me!”
“Tell you what. Scroll something real embarrassing and send it to me. Mutually assured destruction, right?”
~Atta girl
“S-sure. Whatever you want. Just please, give me the number of that ripper!”
You laugh coldly, pushing past him. “Quid pro quo. I'll be waiting for that scroll.”
You sit in your car for half an hour, which should be enough time for the Joytoy to film some dirt.
When you still don't receive any videos, you drive off.
~Guess he’s trying his luck at Fingers
~No way that ends well
~What can I say? Play stupid games
~Win stupid prizes
When you stop by the Afterlife in the evening, you see a bunch of people crowded around something, muttering.
Upon closer inspection, it's a headless corpse.
You're used to gore, but something about this one makes your stomach turn. Something you can't place.
~Don't see it, V?
~Kinda hard to miss
~Look at his hands
You zoom in with your Kiroshis, and recognize the unique manicure. The blackmailer from earlier.
~Whoa. Small world
~Now look at his arms
You immediately recognize the ripped glove.
~What the fuck?!
~Tell me about it
~What is he trying to say?!
~Why you asking me? Call the man
~He blocked me, remember?!
~Oh, right. Well, you know where he hangs out
~Kind of a long drive
~He just beheaded a dude for you. That's worth a trip, right?
~You’re just bored, aren't you?
~Deathly. Now get in Her Majesty and drive
When you pull up next to the limo, Muamar is leaning against the railing with a cigarette between his fingers.
Framed by the lights of the city, he looks sort of majestic. You put that thought in the back of your head and walk over.
“What brings you by, Queen?”
“Was in the neighborhood.”
He takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke that drifts away, taking your inhibitions with it.
“Like my gift?”
“Wasn't even my birthday,” you purr, but it sounds different than the toy from earlier. Sounds sincere, somehow.
“Christmas came early.”
You settle into silence briefly, plucking the cigarette from his hand.
You inhale deeply, cupping his jaw in your hands. He opens his mouth obligingly and you jump, putting your legs around his waist and hitching yourself up so you can exhale down into his mouth. Like you're pouring champagne.
He closes his eyes, basking in the warmth of your breath and embrace.
You ghost your lips against his, and he touches the back of your neck. You want him to press your face down so you can kiss him properly, but he tugs at the chain holding his tags instead.
“Told me you'd take care of these.”
You chuckle bitterly. “That’s how you knew it was me in the clip?”
“You sent it to me, remember? Your version, that is.”
“Thought you blocked me.”
His grip on the back of your neck tightens a little. “Can't think straight when you're horny, hmm? Can't tell if a text is fake or not?”
You pull out of his grip. “Didn't figure you one for games.”
“Something, something, old dogs and new tricks.”
You let your legs drop, landing on your toes. Not like he was holding you up. “So the dead toy, that was you cleaning up a mess? Can't let anyone see those tags on me?”
He puts his hands in his pockets. “A fixer like me, got no weaknesses. Can't have any.”
“Is that what I am?” Toneless, like you couldn't care less, but you tell yourself he knows better. Knows your ego can't take a hit.
~He doesn't care about your ego, gonk. He cares about your feelings.
“Offended?” A joker as always, because he knows you don't like when things get too real.
“Extremely.”
“Good. Get out of here.” His voice is soft. There's no other way for him when you're looking at him like that. Like you wanna fall asleep in his clothes and wake up in his bed.
“No.” You undo his shorts, dropping to your knees. You pull his cock out and lick a sloppy stripe from base to tip.
“Mean it.” He bends over and lifts you back up, tucking himself back in like he's not half hard already.
“Do you?” You put your arms on either side of him, caging him against the railing.
“Mhm.” He turns around, staring at the skyline. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind. “Leave, V.”
“Make me.”
He pries your arms off him, stepping aside so you can see what he's looking at. “Night City, beautiful when it's all lit up, ain't she?”
“I suppose.” You lean forward, bracing yourself on the edge.
“But when you get closer, it's a mess. Filthy at times. And even when you're far away again, it doesn't look the same.
You get what I mean, right?”
You look at him, then back at the city, blinking hard.
“Saying that's me, Capitán?”
“Forget it.” He walks away, getting into his limo.
You follow him, stopping the door with your knee when he tries to close it.
“Say what you mean, Muamar.”
“I can handle the filth. Can you?”
He puts his hand on your knee, petting it gently before pushing it out of the way.
“Once you look, really look, there's no going back. You want things hot and easy? Find someone else. I can't give you that.”
You look down at your feet. Thinking back to that night at the apartment. The way that food guy talked, you weren't the only one. “Not your first rodeo?” Reminding him he's played the same game, no different than the rest of you.
“First one I've given these to.” He pulls the tags out of your bra, snapping the chain with a flick of his wrist, pocketing the tags when they slide into his palm.
“Come find me when you really want these.”
You watch him drive away as the broken chain clinks onto the ground.
The next few weeks are a blur of NCPD assaults solved even more violently, drinks knocked back until you puked in the streets, and fingers stuffed in your cunt that just weren't big enough.
Johnny, surprisingly, keeps his snarky comments to a minimum until you finally collapse onto your bed.
~I’m all for self-destructive binges-
~Then fuck off, Johnny
~But as a rockstar turned vigilante turned engram, I can say my biggest regret is how things went down with Alt
~Completely different scenarios
~You’re right. You still have a chance to fix yours
You groan, the hangover making his lecture even more irritating.
~If I go see him will you pipe the fuck down
~Don’t act like you're doing this for me. We share the same brain, remember? I literally know that you can't let him go
You change into Muamar’s clothes and curl up in a ball, wishing his smell hadn't faded already.
You close your eyes, telling yourself that you'll see him in a few days.
The next morning, bright and early, you cruise over to his usual haunt. You hang out there for a bit, before deciding to check his garage.
His techie tells you he hasn't been by in days.
You should call him, you know, but you don't know what to say. You were hoping the words would come to you once you saw his face.
~Terrible idea, all in all
~Saying you wanna help me write a speech, Johnny?
~I’d rather watch you suck his balls
~That can be arranged
~I very much regret my word choice
Only other place you can think of is his apartment. He definitely has more than one, but you can try your luck anyway.
~Good on you for not giving up. But if you open it and see a toy or new output I’ll still laugh in your face
Standing in front of the door to his place feels like returning to the scene of a crime.
One where you're a perpetrator as well as a victim.
There's a sour taste in your mouth and a skip in your heartbeat.
You feel disgusted with yourself, and also proud.
Muamar was right; it's filthy when you look close.
But when have you turned down a challenge?
You steel your nerves, but can't quite get yourself to knock. You tap your nails on the door instead.
It opens, and a gorgeous girl looks at you in mild confusion. Quite a few years younger than you.
~Holy shit, I'm psychic, V. I'm fucking Bartmoss
“Sorry, wrong apartment.” You nearly trip in your haste to get out of there.
This is on you. You waited too long.
Her confused look changes to a warm smile.
“It's your girl, tío!” She calls over her shoulder.
“Very funny. Just get the food.”
“No wonder he's been acting strange,” she whispers conspiratorially. At regular volume she introduces herself. “I'm his niece.”
“You don't have to tell everyone, sobrina.” He scolds her from the kitchen. “They won't charge you. They know it's my apartment. Though maybe you could afford takeout if you got a job.
“Do you usually give delivery people your old clothes?”
There's a muffled curse and he rushes over, grabbing her by the ear and tugging her out of the way.
“Hey, Queen.”
She pops her head over his shoulder and mouths the word ‘queen’ as she wiggles her eyebrows.
~Yup, definitely a Reyes. Got that joker in her
“Hey, Cap.”
He shoves her away with a sotto ‘grownups are talking.’ “What are you doing here?”
Having his goofball niece there actually makes it easier.
~I'm just glad I don't have to make a robbing the cradle joke
“I missed you, Muamar.”
He swallows hard, struck silent until his niece pokes him the ribs with a breathy ‘say something!’
“Do you mind?!” He gripes, smacking her on the forehead.
“I could leave you alone,” she says with a mischievous grin. “If I had some money to go shopping.”
“Extortion,” he grumbles, transferring her some credit.
She beams happily, barging past him and giving you a quick hug. “Cha-ching! He must really like you.”
“Out. Now.” He gives her another shove for good measure and she practically skips down the hall in excitement. He backs up to let you into the apartment. “Kids these days. No respect.”
You walk inside, trailing your hand along the wall. “I think she's kinda cute.”
“Well, you don't have to babysit her every time she gets in a fight with her folks.”
“Good looks run in the family.” You sit down at the kitchen table.
“That would be a great line if she weren't adopted.”
~Plot twist!
“So you're not biologically related? That changes things-”
“Don't fucking go there.” He grabs your jaw and squeezes it. “Repeat after me. She's my niece.”
“She's my niece.” You quip, just to mess with him.
“That your way of saying what's yours is mine?” He teases, letting go of your jaw and stroking your cheek.
You fold your hands together, gripping your fingers tightly.
“I… don't know how to do this.”
“That's ok. I do.”
He lifts you off the chair, and you cling to him like he's tethering you to this world.
“Tell me what you missed about me, Majesty.”
You press your face in the crook of his neck.
“Your smell.” You inhale deeply, sighing in relief. “Feels like home.”
“Mhm. And?” He sits on the bed, holding you in his lap.
“Your voice. Your laugh.” You squeeze him tighter, wanting to pause this moment. Just you in his arms. “Want you on the line, even if it's to bitch at me.”
He lays down, pulling you onto his chest. “What else?”
You huff, burrowing your face in his chest. He chuckles, kissing you on the forehead.
“Alright, my turn, then. The stuff in the bathroom. For my niece. Never had another girl over.”
“In this apartment,” you counter, and he pinches your cheek.
“In any. Told you, Queen. Hot and easy ain't my way. With anyone.”
“What about hot and messy?”
He laughs softly, resting a palm on your waist. “Can't put sex on the back burner for more than a few minutes, hmm?”
“I'm serious!” You whine, and he kisses your forehead again. “I know it'll be uncomfortable. I hate being vulnerable. I'd rather get shot. And stabbed. And beat to a pulp-”
“You going somewhere with this?”
“I gotta spell it out?”
“Yes.”
You groan, closing your eyes and gritting your teeth.
“It's worth it if I get to be with you.”
“Say it again.”
You sit up and glare at him and he laughs, clear and free.
~Have fun, V. Proud of you, in a gross way I'll never admit again
“No.” You cross your arms and glare at him some more.
“Just one more time.” He coaxes, the hand on your waist dipping under the waistband of your pants. “One more time and I'll let you cum on these fingers.”
“Pass.” You hop off the bed, but he grabs your hands and ties them behind you with a clink.
“Got a new chain for these. Practically unbreakable, the guy said. Let's find out.”
He pushes you onto the bed, dragging your pants and panties down.
You try to sit up so you're not lying awkwardly on top of your arms, but one quick kiss on your clit has you falling back with a quiet moan.
“Almost didn't recognize your voice in that scroll. Knew what your actual moans sounded like from our car ride.” He suckles on your clit, alternating with soft kisses on your labia.
“Good thing, too,” you pant out. “Made it impossible to blackmail me with.”
“Don't worry, Queen. Got a netrunner to wipe the cloud.” He nips your inner thigh, and you cry out, gushing onto his face.
He gives your clit a few more kisses, before pulling away with a dazed look. “Didn't expect you to cum so easily. Was gonna tease you a little more. Or til you begged.”
You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him on top of you and snapping the chain so you can clean the juices off his face with your sleeve.
He laughs in surprise. “Were you just playing along?”
“Should get a refund,” you reply, mewling when he rubs his length along your slit.
“Or I could give you a brand new necklace.” He kicks off his shorts and swipes at his tip, pressing the precum to your lips.
“There's a thought. Finish on my chest or inside-”
He pushes the head of his cock past your entrance.
You keen, weaving your hand in his ponytail and pulling him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.
“Know how hard it was not to give in, Queen? To all your little tricks?” He thrusts in a little more, groaning when you tighten around him.
“Regret making me wait, Muamar?” You suck a hickey on his neck.
“No way. You're worth the wait.”
He pushes in to the hilt, and you scream at the amazing, glorious stretch. You feel so full, so whole.
You almost feel bad for the neighbors.
“Want everyone in the building to know I'm fucking my girl?”
“Nah. Want everyone to know you're fucking your Queen.”