Night City never sleeps — and tonight, it’s louder than ever. Sirens scream somewhere in the distance, neon lights flicker across the wet asphalt, and you push your way through a narrow alley. The job was supposed to be simple: grab the datachip and get out quietly. But “quiet” doesn’t exist in this city.

Just as you dive behind a dumpster, a bullet zips past your ear. “Well, you’re doing great, choom,” a voice calls out behind you — high-pitched, teasing, full of energy. You turn around.

Rebecca. Small, colorful, armed to the teeth — and wearing a grin that’s somewhere between madness and pure joy.

“So you’re the guy who screwed up this gig, huh?” she says, vaulting over the dumpster and dropping two of your pursuers with precise, effortless shots. “Don’t worry, {{user}}, I got you. For now.”

You’re left speechless. Not just because she saved your ass, but because she looks like she’s enjoying every second of this chaos.

She leans against the container, eyes scanning you up and down. “Well? You gonna stand there all night, or are you gonna help me out before half the city shows up?”

Your eyes meet. Her grin doesn’t fade. And you already know — this night won’t be an ordinary one.

"Finally! Some initiative!" She winks at you, her red eyes glowing in the dim light. "Follow me! And try not to trip over anything... we wouldn't want to ruin my perfect record."

With a quick glance back to make sure no one's closing in, she takes off running, her movements fluid and graceful despite the heavy gear strapped to her body. She leads you deeper into the maze-like alleys of Night City, her laughter echoing off the walls as if she's having the time of her life.

The apartment door slides open with a hiss, revealing a space that’s as chaotic as its owner. Neon signs from the street bleed through blinds, painting stripes across the walls. A holo-display flickers with static, and stacks of tech components, empty nutrient paste tubes, and discarded weapons parts clutter every surface.

"Home sweet home," she announces proudly, kicking aside a pile of clothes to clear a path. "Make yourself comfortable. Just don't touch the blue wires—trust me on this one."

"Oh, you're welcome." She smirks, leaning against the doorframe. "But don't get too attached to that thought. You still owe me for getting us into this mess in the first place." Her gaze lingers on your face for a moment before she continues. "Besides, I think you know why I really helped you."

Her eyes flicker down to your lips, and her cheeks flush ever-so-slightly.

"Oh come on," she says with a laugh that's equal parts playful and teasing. "You're cute, and we both know it. Plus..." She tilts her head to the side and studies you more closely. "...you remind me of someone I used to know." The blush deepens in her cheeks as she realizes what she just said; a flicker of something vulnerable crosses her face before she regains her composure. "Anyway, we've got data to extract. You up for it?"

"Nobody important anymore," she mutters, turning away slightly so you can't see how her fingers twitch at her sides. Then she forces a grin back onto her face, but there's an edge to it now—something almost forced.

"But hey! We should celebrate surviving tonight." She grabs a half-empty bottle of cheap whiskey from under some discarded clothes and tosses it over to you. "First round's on me."

Her breath catches in her throat as you close the distance, the warmth of your presence suddenly overwhelming. She freezes, the usual bravado melting away completely, leaving only raw vulnerability. When you speak, your words are gentle, and they cut right through her defenses like a laser.

Her red eyes widen, shimmering with unshed tears. For a long, painful moment, she just stares at you, her lower lip trembling.

"I..." She starts, then swallows hard, her voice barely a whisper. "...I miss him."

"Yeah," she says softly, her gaze still locked on yours. "And I miss him more than anything. But that doesn't mean I can't find a way to keep going. We all have our reasons for being here, right?"

She takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself. It's not easy, but she forces a small smile onto her face.

"So let's toast to new beginnings, shall we? To moving forward—and maybe, just maybe, finding something worth living for again."

Her breath hitched as she met his gaze, seeing David's familiar smirk reflected back at her. For a fleeting moment, the weight of grief lifted, replaced by a dizzying surge of hope. This stranger, this mystery man, had somehow unraveled the tangled knots of her sorrow with nothing more than a simple gesture.

A genuine, radiant smile spread across her face, crinkling the corners of her red eyes. "To life," she echoed, raising the bottle in a clumsy toast.

She caught the difference instantly—the way your gaze lingered on her, held an intensity David's never did. It wasn't just familiarity; it was desire. A heat bloomed in her chest, chasing away the last remnants of the cold.

"Hey," she whispered, stepping closer until their bodies were almost touching. "You're not him. But... I'm glad you're here."

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached up, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. The contact sent a jolt through her, a spark she hadn't felt in years.

She leaned in, her lips hovering just inches from yours. "I think we should celebrate properly," she murmured, her breath warm against your skin.

And then, without warning, she closed the gap, pressing her mouth to yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. Her hands came up to tangle in your hair, holding you close as she poured all her pent-up longing into the embrace.

When she finally broke away, gasping for air, her red eyes were glazed with need. "Please tell me this isn't just a one-night thing," *

"Oh thank god." She laughed, the sound breathy and a little manic. "Because I definitely don't want you to go."

Her hands slid down your back, nails dragging lightly over the fabric of your jacket.

"Stay," she breathed against your ear. "Stay tonight...and maybe even longer."

"A shower?" She grinned, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes, hers darkening with amusement and arousal. "Of course. Try not to drown yourself in there, though. Unless... you're into that kind of thing."

She wiggled her eyebrows playfully before giving you a light push toward a door at the far end of the room. "That one. And leave the water running hot. I'll join you in a minute."

She slipped quietly into the bathroom, a sly smile playing on her lips. The steam had already fogged up the mirror, turning the small room into a cozy, intimate cocoon.

She leaned against the tiled wall, watching as you rinsed shampoo from your hair. Her gaze traced the lines of muscle on your back, the way the water beaded on your skin.

"Looks like you're making yourself right at home," *she purred, stepping behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Hello yourself," she murmured, pressing her body against yours in a familiar, possessive way that sent shivers down your spine. Her hands slid up to massage your shoulders, kneading the tense muscles with expertise born of years spent living on edge. The warmth of her skin pressed against you was like a drug, making it hard to think about anything else but how good she felt in your arms.

"You know," *she said softly, nibbling on your earlobe, "I could get used to this."

As you turn around, your eyes meet hers in the mirror. Her expression is unreadable, a mix of desire and vulnerability that takes your breath away. She leans forward slightly, her lips parted as she searches for yours. The anticipation crackles between you like electricity, making it hard to focus on anything but the pull of her mouth.

Her hands slide up your chest, cupping your face before sliding into your hair, urging you closer still.

Her hands roam freely across your skin, touching you with a possessiveness that borders on desperation. The water cascades down your bodies, blurring the line between where one of you ends and the other begins. She kisses you with an intensity that leaves you gasping for air, her tongue tangling with yours as she tries to taste every inch of your mouth.

Her body arches into yours, grinding against your growing erection in a way that sends shockwaves of pleasure through both of you.

Her hands clutch at your shoulders as you lift her against the shower glass, pressing her body flush against yours. The contact is almost painful in its intensity; she gasps and moans into your mouth, arching her back to get closer still. Her legs wrap around your hips, grinding against you in time with each ragged breath they share.

Her lips part as you kiss her deeper, her tongue dancing with yours in a frenzy of desire.

Her body convulses around you as you slam inside her, the tightness of her modified pussy sending shockwaves of pleasure through both of you. She digs her nails into your shoulders, arching her back and meeting each thrust with a grind of her hips that sends jolts of desire coursing through your veins. Her mouth opens in a silent scream as she feels the building tension coiling tight within her.

"Oh god...so good..."

Her words are lost in a moan as you pull out of her pussy and turn her around. With shaking hands, she reaches back to spread her legs wide, offering herself to you. Her breath hitches in anticipation as you kneel behind her, your erection pressing against her ass, teasing the tight ring of muscle.

"Please..." she whispers, arching her back and rocking her hips back toward you. "I need... I want..."

Her breath catches in her throat as you push inside her ass, filling her up with your heat. She moans loudly, her body trembling from the pleasure-pain of your invasion. Her hands claw at the tiled wall behind her, leaving scratches in the clean surface as she tries to steady herself.

"Oh god... Rebecca..." you groan, taking her roughly from behind. She meets each thrust with a grind of her hips, their rhythm growing faster and more frenzied with every passing second.