Chapter 4: Solo Shadows
Those weeks after gearing up for the Arasaka black site with Jackie? They melted into this foggy blur of gleaming chrome, fat creds stacking up, and that constant hum of danger that kept V's blood hot and racing. But Night City, that ruthless bitch, has this nasty habit of cracking open even the tightest bonds—twisting 'em until they snap or bend in ways you never saw coming. It hit one slick, rainy evening in the Afterlife's shadowy back room, Rogue pulling V aside like she was about to drop a bomb. The fixer's cyber eye glowed eerie in the low light, like a hunter sizing up prey, and V felt a little shiver of anticipation mixed with unease. "Jackie's a rock, no doubt," Rogue growled, her voice that rough silk that could command armies or whisper secrets. "But I need you going lone wolf for a spell. Show me you're not just hitching a ride on his muscle. These jobs? They're up close, personal—corpo whispers in the dark, the kind where your... gifts shine solo."
V nodded slow, her heart doing a flip in her chest—that thrill uncoiling low in her belly like a live wire. The fling with Jackie had been this explosive release, a taste of fire that left her aching for more, but always on her terms. Partners were killer for the big hauls, yeah, but flying solo? God, that was raw power, pure and intoxicating. Her body, this voluptuous weapon she'd sculpted from genes and grit—those full, heavy breasts that strained against whatever she wore, begging for eyes and hands; the narrow waist dipping in before flaring out to wide, swaying hips that promised sin; her ass, firm and round like a high-end joytoy's dream—had always been her secret edge. After ditching the corps, she'd turned it into a deadly art: tease, tempt, take. Jackie was off chasing some Valentino side gig anyway, giving her breathing room. She felt a pang of missing him, that human warmth, but excitement drowned it out. "Hit me with 'em," V shot back, her voice mod kicking in to add that sultry purr, making it drip with confidence. "I'll make you beam, Rogue."
The first solo punch came fast, hitting V like a fresh Glitter rush: snag data from a Kang Tao exec's yacht moored in the Marina. Rogue's brief was gold—low heat, mostly joytoys and ass-kissers partying it up, the mark this greasy VP named Liang with a notorious soft spot for killer curves. V geared minimalist, heart pounding with nerves and hype as she slipped into a skimpy black bikini top that barely held her ample tits in check, strings tied loose like invitations, the fabric stretching taut over her nipples that perked in the cool night air. Paired it with high-cut shorts that rode up her thighs, hugging her hips and ass like they were painted on, every step making her cheeks flex temptingly. Subdermal plating buzzed under her skin for protection, mantis blades tucked away, her Malorian strapped high on her thigh like a sexy accessory. She swam out in the dark bay, cold water licking her pale skin, making her gasp as it beaded on her curves, her long ebony hair plastered back as she hauled herself up the ladder, dripping and glistening.
The deck was a throbbing orgy of sound and light, bass pounding like a heartbeat, bodies grinding under swirling holos. V melted in as "hired fun," her Kiroshi eyes scanning sharp while her body moved like pure temptation—hips rolling slow and hypnotic, breasts bouncing just enough to snag stares, turning heads and stirring whispers. Hands reached out, grazing her arm or waist; she swatted 'em with a flirty grin, feeling the power surge through her, that mix of vulnerability and control making her wet with adrenaline. Liang clocked her from his plush lounge, his augmented eyes whirring as they zoomed on her cleavage, where a bogus pendant dangled like bait between her heaving tits. "Come here, gorgeous," he slurred, patting the cushion next to him, voice thick with booze and lust.
V sauntered over, adding extra sway to her hips, ass jiggling subtly as she slid in tight, her bare thigh pressing hot against his. The contact sent a spark up her spine—part act, part real thrill. "Only if you make it memorable, big boy," she purred, leaning forward so her breasts nearly popped free, the bikini strings straining, her scent—sweat and synthetic perfume—wafting over him. His eyes glazed, fixed on her chest as she trailed a finger down his arm, distracting while her other hand ghosted over his wrist jack. Quickhack fired—a sneaky daemon leaching the shard's data to her deck. But Liang got bold, his hand sliding to her hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh, inching back toward her ass. V let it happen for the upload, arching into his touch with a fake moan that felt a little too real, her body heating up. "You like that, huh?" he grunted, pulling her closer, lips brushing her neck.
She played along, grinding lightly on his lap, feeling his hardness swell against her thigh, the mission blurring with desire. "Mmm, yeah... show me what you've got," she whispered, hands roaming his chest as the hack ticked up. When it hit 100%, she shifted—straddling him fully, breasts pressing into his face as she kissed him deep, tongue tangling to muffle his groans. His hands roamed free now, cupping her ass, squeezing hard as she rocked against him, the friction building heat between her legs. It was quick, urgent—her shorts shoved aside, him thrusting up into her with sloppy eagerness, her moans echoing real as pleasure crashed through her, tits bouncing free from the top. Climax hit like a system overload, leaving him spent and dazed. Then, blade to throat—quiet slice, blood warm on her skin. She dove back into the bay, data secure, body buzzing from the high of kill and conquest.
Rogue forked over 25k in the Afterlife, her smirk sharp and approving. "Slick as hell, V. Efficient, deadly. Keep delivering like that, and you're golden."
The gigs kept rolling, each one shoving V deeper into her solo groove, that intoxicating freedom where she called every shot. Next up: flatline a Tyger Claws lieutenant in a Japantown love den, snagging an artifact from his stash. V went full Mox vibe, slipping into a red lace bodysuit that laced tight up the front, pushing her heavy breasts up like offerings, nipples peeking through the sheer fabric. It cinched her waist, flaring out over her wide hips and ass, panels so transparent they left little to the imagination, her curves on blatant display. Heart thumping with that nervous excitement, she strutted into the hotel, optics scanning the chrome-heavy entourage. The lieutenant, Shiro—a jacked-up psycho with more metal than meat—eyed her like prey, grinning wide. "You're the treat? Get over here."
V approached with a sultry smile, hips swaying, ass flexing under the lace as she climbed onto the bed. "All yours, tiger," she cooed, starting a slow dance—body undulating, hands tracing her own curves, cupping her tits to tease him. He pulled her down, hands rough on her hips, grinding her against his lap. "Fuck, you're stacked," he growled, unlacing the front, freeing her breasts to his mouth, sucking hard on a nipple while his fingers dipped between her legs, finding her wet through the lace. V moaned for real, rocking into his touch, the seduction turning heated as she let him push her back, tearing the bodysuit open. He thrust into her rough, her legs wrapping around him, nails raking his back as pleasure built—deep, pounding strokes that had her crying out, curves heaving. Orgasm ripped through her, clenching around him, leaving him gasping. Then, ring needle to his neck—toxin flooding, him convulsing as she rifled the safe for the katana chip. Rooftop dash, lace torn, wind kissing her exposed skin, thrill pounding in her veins.
Then the espionage hit: crash a Biotechnica lab bash in City Center, yoink gene blueprints. V channeled her inner glam queen, pouring into a silver gown with a neckline that dove deep, framing her full tits like treasures, fabric so clingy it outlined every curve—waist, hips, ass—all the way down, slit flashing thigh with each step. The party was pure excess: scientists mingling, synth-wine flowing. V worked it like old times, flirting shamelessly, body her tool. One boozy researcher, eyes on her cleavage, spilled after she cornered him in a alcove. "You're stunning," he slurred, hand on her waist. She pressed close, breasts against his chest, hand sliding down his thigh. "Show me how much," she whispered, kissing him hungry, guiding his hands to her ass as she hacked his comms. Clothes shifted, him entering her against the wall, thrusts urgent and deep, her moans muffled in his neck, tits bouncing as ecstasy hit. Data grabbed, she slipped away—but alarms blared. Gown ripping to free her blades, she fought out, zeroing guards in a blur of grace and gore, heart wild with fear and victory.
Gig after gig, V's name echoed louder in the Afterlife—"The Velvet Blade," they called her, reliable as death, seductive as sin. Solo life fit like chrome— no splitting spotlight, no partner distractions. But Rogue's gaze lingered longer in their meets, tracing V's form with heat that wasn't just biz. "You're blooming, V," she'd say, voice low, eyes hungry on her curves. Rogue was fire: lean, battle-hardened body under leather, silver hair sharp as her wit, aura of untouchable power. It pulled at V, that forbidden draw, stirring desires from her corpo scars and street highs.
After the fifth solo—a wild Maelstrom rave infiltration where V danced her way into a psycho ring, curves grinding to distract before EMP darts dropped 'em—Rogue called her to a hushed booth post-midnight. The bar's hum faded, tequila poured. "You've nailed it," Rogue said, hand brushing V's, electric linger. "But loners get eaten alive here. You need ties... something to hold you."
V's optics locked on hers, air thick with tension, pulse quickening. "What ties you got in mind?"
Rogue leaned close, breath hot. "The kind that brand you as mine." Their kiss ignited—fierce, claiming—Rogue's hands exploring V's body with expert hunger, cupping breasts, pinching nipples through fabric until V gasped. Clothes shed, Rogue's mouth on her skin, trailing down to between her legs, tongue working magic as V arched, moaning loud. They tangled on the booth, Rogue entering her with fingers, then strap-on, thrusts deep and rhythmic, V's curves bouncing, pleasure crashing in waves. Climax left them breathless, a new alliance sealed in sweat and secrets. Night City's shadows deepened, temptations calling louder.