Both Sides, Now

"You," V panted, pulling Judy down for a messy, breathless kiss, "are terrifyingly good at that."

Judy chuckled, wiping her fingers on the sheet. "Years of practice, mi calabacita." Her gaze drifted to V’s forearm where chrome met scarred skin—a relic from the scav raid. She traced the jagged line with her thumb. "This is new." Not a question. Night City etched its stories on bodies, not datapads.

V flexed her hand, watching the servos whir beneath synth-skin. "Got careless. Scav nearly took the whole arm off before I ventilated his skull." She shrugged it off, but Judy’s frown deepened. They both knew how close it was—one misstep from a street doc away from a scrap heap funeral.

Judy pressed her lips to the angry scar. "Gunk." Her kiss lingered, warm against the cold chrome. "Promise me you’ll stop picking fights with whole gangs for credsticks."

"Okay but what if they pick fights with me?"

V grinned at Judy's exasperated sigh. The conversation dissolved as Judy straddled her hips, palms pressing V's shoulders into the mattress. Distant sirens wailed somewhere near Charter Hill—urgent, then fading—as Judy leaned down, her hair brushing V's collarbone. "Then run faster," she murmured before capturing V's lips in a slow, deep kiss that tasted like sweat and shared exhaustion.

The kiss deepened, tongues sliding together with lazy hunger. Judy’s thigh pressed firmly against V’s center, reigniting the heat still simmering beneath her skin. V’s hands slid up Judy’s spine, tracing the knobs of her vertebrae until fingers tangled in dark hair, pulling her closer. Neon light—sickly green from a Biotechnica ad—flooded the room as clouds outside shifted, painting Judy’s shoulders in toxic luminescence. "Running’s overrated," V murmured against Judy’s mouth, hips lifting to grind against her thigh. "Rather have you pin me down like this."

Judy chuckled, breath warm on V’s cheek. "Flatterer." Her teeth scraped V’s jawline, then lower, down the column of her throat. She paused at the pulse point, sucking hard enough to bloom a bruise V would wear like a trophy tomorrow. "But only I get to pin you." Her hand slid between them, fingers slick from earlier, tracing slow patterns across V’s abdomen before dipping lower. V hissed at the contact, hips lifting instinctively. Judy’s fingertip circled her clit—a feather-light tease that made V’s muscles clench. "Unless," Judy whispered, her voice rough as gravel, "you’ve got somewhere else to be?"

"Nope. Im all yours." V gasped as Judy's fingers slid inside her again—slow, deliberate, the stretch a familiar burn that made her thighs tremble. Judy knew her rhythm, the exact angle to curl her knuckles against that sweet, deep spot that had V seeing static. Outside, the neon pulse shifted—toxic yellow to arterial red—casting Judy’s focused expression in bloody light. Her thumb circled V’s clit in counterpoint to each thrust, rough and perfect. "Fuck, Jude—right *there*—" V’s back arched, heels digging into the mattress. Sweat slicked their skin where Judy’s stomach pressed against hers, the heat between them a living thing.

Judy watched her—really watched—the way V’s breath hitched, the flutter of her eyelids, the way her cybernetic hand gripped the headboard hard enough to dent cheap metal. "Love seeing you like this," Judy murmured, voice thick. "All mine." She leaned down, catching V’s nipple between her teeth, biting just shy of pain. The dual sensation—sharp sting below, deep pressure within—had V crying out, her hips bucking wildly. Judy pinned her down with a forearm across her pelvis, never breaking rhythm. "Not yet," she breathed against V’s breast. "Gonna make you beg for it."

Outside, the city roared—a MaxTac hovercraft thundered past, rattling the windows—but inside, it was all Judy’s ragged breaths and V’s choked whimpers. Judy’s thumb pressed harder against V’s clit, grinding tight circles while her fingers plunged deeper, curling *just so*. V’s vision blurred at the edges. "Judy—*please*—" The plea tore from her throat raw, ****.

Judy pulled back and spread Vs legs before pressing her own smooth pussy and hers. She then began rubbing her clit against V’s clit. The sudden slide of skin-on-skin contact drew a ragged gasp from V’s throat, her hips lifting instinctively to meet Judy’s grinding pressure. Judy’s eyes locked onto hers—dark, focused, predatory—as she leaned back moaning softly. Her fingers dug into V’s shins, holding her open while her hips rolled in slow, torturous circles. The friction was electric, each pass sending jolts up V’s spine that pooled low and molten in her belly. Judy’s breath hitched, her own arousal slicking the slide between them. "You feel that?" Judy murmured, her voice rough. "All mine."

V could only nod, her fingers twisting in the sheets as pleasure coiled tighter. Judy’s rhythm shifted—faster now, harder—her clit dragging against V’s with deliberate, grinding ****. The headboard rattled against the wall with each thrust, a metallic counterpoint to Judy’s sharp inhalations. Outside, the neon glare shifted to a deep, radioactive blue, painting Judy’s sweat-streaked back in ghostly light. V arched up, meeting Judy’s movements thrust for thrust, their bodies sliding together in a slick, **** rhythm. The scent of sex hung heavy—musky and sweet—cutting through the stale air conditioner hum.

Judy’s moans crescendoed, sharp and breathless. Her thighs trembled where they pressed against V’s hips, her movements growing erratic. V watched her unravel—the flutter of her eyelids, the **** set of her jaw—and dragged a hand up Judy’s spine to tangle in her damp hair. "Let go," V urged, voice ragged. "I’ve got you." Judy’s cry tore through the room as climax hit her—a shuddering, full-body convulsion that had her collapsing forward, forehead pressed to V’s collarbone while aftershocks rippled through her.

Silence settled, thick with the scent of sweat and sex. Judy’s breath warmed V’s skin in uneven puffs. Outside, a garbage hauler’s engine whined like a dying animal as it crawled through the alley below. Judy traced the line of V’s jaw with a fingertip. "Should send you messages mid-fight more often," she murmured, exhaustion and triumph warring in her voice.

V chuckled, the vibration rattling her bruised ribs. "Almost got my ass ventilated by a Scav’s smart pistol." She caught Judy’s wandering hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. The taste of salt and gunmetal lingered. "Worth it."