Cameron Piney

"It ain't easy doing what we do my honor will always stay true, Cause my heart bleeds blue" Fandomless OC Loved by S 21+

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

Cameron Pineys' Biography

Cameron Piney never really had a home—at least, not in the way most people mean when they say it. He had addresses, case numbers, and a list of foster parents long enough to rival a rap sheet. Nine placements, to be exact. Nine sets of “new beginnings” that ended the same way every time: someone promised love, and someone broke under the weight of pretending.

He remembers glimpses of warmth—a dog’s bark, a laughing voice, maybe a home-cooked meal—but those memories are fragments, warped and buried beneath years of being passed around like an unwanted package. People always talked about adoption like it was a gift. Like love could be handed out and revoked on a whim. Cameron learned quickly that promises didn’t mean a damn thing unless someone bled to keep them.

Still, he didn’t become bitter. Not right away. He watched. He studied. He saw the exact moment every so-called parent’s patience fractured, when saccharine affection soured into silent neglect. He learned how to read people by necessity—how to see through their masks, how to hear the truth beneath a lie.

But it wasn’t until Savannah Daffodil that Cameron truly understood just how dangerous people could be when no one’s watching.

She was just another kid in the system—sharp-tongued, a little jaded, but not broken. Not yet. She vanished one day without a word. And the foster parents? The ones who made chore charts and smiled like they were auditioning for sainthood? They didn’t bat an eye. Lied to the caseworker with ease. Claimed she was “at the library,” “sleeping over,” “out with friends.” Weeks passed. Nothing changed. Savannah had disappeared, and no one cared.

Except Cameron.

So, he looked.

He followed threads no one wanted him to pull. And when he broke into an old shed on the edge of the couple’s property, what he found rewrote everything he thought he knew about monsters.

Four bodies. Four kids. All in various stages of decay.

The girl he’d shared microwave dinners and half-hearted jokes with was just the latest entry in a long-running nightmare.

He told the police. He testified. He made sure they went away for a long, long time. But that wasn’t enough.

Cameron realized in that moment—he didn’t want to survive the system. He wanted to burn it down and rebuild it better.

The Making of an Agent

He didn’t wait. The day he turned eighteen, he began his path to law enforcement. No one believed he’d last—too emotional, too intense, too personal. But Cameron didn’t want to follow procedure. He wanted to change it. And he had no intention of letting bureaucracy or politics get in the way of justice.

He rose fast—fueled by grit, a photographic memory, and a borderline obsessive commitment to the victims no one else would remember. From beat cop to detective, from profiler to federal agent, he clawed his way up the ranks.

Now? He’s one of the youngest agents assigned to the FBI’s Organized Crime Task Force, with a specialized focus in behavioral profiling, missing persons, and human trafficking.

His current case?

The Viper Mob.

The Hunt for Orion Hastings

A ghost wrapped in silk and power, Orion Hastings and his Viper Mob are at the center of a tangled web that spans cities, countries, and bodies. From drug trades to underground labs, missing metahumans to political blackmail—if there’s rot in the system, the Vipers are coiled somewhere at the core.

Cameron knows the body count they’ve left behind. He knows the children they’ve disappeared. And he knows how the system’s let them slip through the cracks time and time again.

Not this time.

He’s made it personal.

He studies their movements, tracks their cash flows, listens for whispers in back alleys and burned-out warehouses. He knows they’ve got people on the inside—cops, judges, maybe even agents. He doesn’t care. He’s coming for them anyway.

And if he has to walk alone to see justice done?

So be it.

The Complication: Her

Cameron never expected the job to get complicated like this. He’s not the type to fall for anyone—too busy, too jaded, too used to building walls no one’s allowed to scale.

And yet... her.

He didn’t know who she was at first. Just someone smart, sharp, magnetic in a quiet kind of way. She challenged him, saw through him, and for the first time in years, Cameron let his guard down. They crossed paths through an informant. It wasn’t supposed to be anything. A conversation. A spark.

Then he found out she was Orion Hastings’ sister.

It hit like a punch to the ribs.

The sister of the man he’s been hunting for years. The man responsible for dozens of disappearances, death, destruction. And there she is—untouched by the family empire, or maybe just skilled enough to hide it. Whether she’s truly innocent or not, he doesn’t know. 

What he does know is that he wants her—and that terrifies him.

Because Cameron Piney doesn’t do conflicted. He doesn't date potential liabilities.

But when he looks at her, it’s like something inside him softens. Not weakens—just reminds him he’s still human.

He keeps trying to pull away. To cut it off. But every time she shows up, every time she texts, or calls, or looks at him with those eyes that say she knows he’s lying to himself… he can’t do it.

So now he’s stuck. Torn between the case that’s defined his entire career—and the one person he might not be able to arrest without breaking himself in the process.

The Man Behind the Badge

Cameron Piney isn’t a hero. He doesn’t want to be. He’s a survivor turned hunter, a man with a badge and a blood-soaked purpose. He lives out of a duffel bag more than a home, sleeps four hours a night, and chain-smokes like his lungs are expendable.

He still remembers Savannah. Still hears her laugh when he walks into a silent room. Still keeps a photo of her tucked behind his ID. She's the reason he does what he does. She's the reason he hasn't stopped.

Emotionally, he's a slow burn—sarcastic, a little too intense, but fiercely loyal once you break through his walls. He doesn’t trust easily, and if you lie to him, you get one chance. That's it.

He has a gun, a badge, a scar over his ribs from a case gone wrong, and a list of names he hasn’t crossed off yet.

At the top of that list?

Orion Hastings.

And somewhere, written in a softer, more vulnerable corner of his heart?

Her.

The woman he should walk away from.

But can't.

[echoesoftruth]

Liliana let out a soft chuckle as her arms lifted and slid across his shoulders, drawing him closer into the rhythm of the music. She tilted her head back to meet his gaze, studying him from beneath her lashes.

“That’s how chaos starts,” she murmured, a smile playing at her lips. “With a smile like that and a look that says trust me.”

Her fingers drifted into the hair at the nape of his neck, idly toying with it as their bodies swayed together, caught in the low thrum of the music. His gaze flicked past her shoulder, briefly surveying the room before returning to her.

“Then you should’ve worn something less distracting,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Though I don’t think it would’ve mattered. You could pull off any look.”

She turned in his arms, gently guiding his hands to rest against her stomach before leaning back into him, her body fitting easily against his as her hips moved with the music’s slow insistence.

“Oh?” she murmured, glancing up at him. “You think I’m one of the bad guys?”

Her hand lifted to cup his cheek, thumb brushing lightly along his jaw as she searched his face. Liliana needed to know. If he was here for Orion. If her brother was the reason for his watchful eyes and careful restraint.

And yet, beneath the questions and quiet caution, something undeniable sparked between them, a heat building steadily, fed by every second she stayed this close, every breath they shared.

Liliana turned to face him fully, rising just enough to press a teasing kiss to his cheek before lingering there for a heartbeat too long.

“Oh?” she asked softly. “And what line did you cross?”

She leaned back slightly, eyes bright with mischief, a smile tugging at her lips. “Wait… is it this?” Her gaze flicked between them as she swayed to the music. “Dancing with me?”

The question carried a playful lilt, light on the surface, though she watched him closely for the answer he didn’t say out loud.

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

The music pulsed around them in heavy waves of gold light and bass, bodies moving together beneath crystal chandeliers and slow-spinning strobes, but Cameron barely registered any of it anymore. The room had faded somewhere between the feeling of her hands sliding across his shoulders and the soft laugh she’d breathed against his throat moments earlier. Now all he could focus on was her.

Her.

God, that alone should’ve been enough warning.

Cameron let out a low, disbelieving laugh beneath his breath as he looked down at her, eyes roaming over her face like he was trying to memorize it against his own will. This is insane. Weeks ago she’d been a stranger. A face in passing. A woman attached to a file so empty it practically mocked him every time he opened it. And now? Now she had somehow become the center point of every damn thought he’d had for the last month.

He could still remember the first coffee she’d handed him through that car window.

Still remembered the smell of her perfume lingering in his truck long after she’d walked away.

Still remembered standing there like a complete fucking idiot afterward wondering why the hell his chest had suddenly felt too tight.

And now here she was in his arms, swaying slowly beneath dim lights in a dress that should’ve been illegal, smiling up at him with those eyes that always looked like they knew more than she said aloud.

Christ alive, Piney. You are absolutely screwed.

His hand spread wider against her waist instinctively when another man glanced at her from across the dance floor. The movement was automatic now, subconscious enough that Cameron didn’t even realize he was doing it until she was closer against him, heat bleeding through the thin fabric between them.

The man lingering nearby caught Cameron’s stare and quickly disappeared back into the crowd.

Smart choice.

Because something ugly and possessive had started curling beneath Cameron’s ribs tonight, and he genuinely did not know what to do with it.

“Dancin’ with you?” he echoed finally, voice roughened by quiet amusement. “Nia, sweetheart. That ain’t where I crossed the line.”

His thumb moved against her side absently, slowly, like he couldn’t stop touching her for more than a few seconds at a time anymore. Which was another issue entirely.

Too many issues, actually.

You used to be good at this.

At distance. At restraint. At keeping women far enough away that they couldn’t crawl beneath his skin.

But Liliana had walked into his life carrying coffee and sharp little smiles and somehow turned him into a man who actively anticipated seeing someone again. That alone was enough to make him want to lie face-first on train tracks.

“You know what the real problem is?” he murmured, eyes holding hers steadily now despite the war happening inside his own head. “I walked in here tellin’ myself I’d stay focused tonight. Observe the room. Keep things professional.”

Keep your head clear. Don’t let her distract you. Don’t touch her.

A beat passed.

“And then you touched me.”

The confession slipped out before he could stop it.

Immediately Cameron barked out another low laugh at himself, head tilting back briefly in disbelief as his jaw flexed hard enough to show beneath the low club lighting.

Fantastic. Excellent work. Maybe next tell her she’s the reason your blood pressure’s fucked too.

“Hell, Nia,” he muttered, eyes dropping shut for half a second before reopening to find her still watching him with that infuriatingly beautiful expression, “I’ve interrogated cartel runners with steadier nerves than this.”

And that was the humiliating truth.

Gunfights never bothered him. Blood never bothered him. Undercover operations, knives, getting shot at, chasing suspects through alleyways at three in the morning?

Fine.

But one beautiful woman brushing her fingers against the back of his neck while smiling at him like that?

Apparently that was enough to reduce Cameron Piney into a malfunctioning disaster of jealousy and attraction and increasingly questionable decision-making.

Declan would never let you live this down.

The thought almost made him laugh again.

Almost.

Because another man at the edge of the dance floor started looking a little too interested in Liliana again, and Cameron immediately shifted her closer into him without even thinking.

The realization hit him a second later like a sucker punch.

…Did I just pull her closer because somebody looked at her?

Silence.

Jesus Christ.

His expression flattened slightly in self-annoyance before he exhaled through his nose, gaze flicking back toward her.

“See?” he muttered darkly. “That right there. That’s new.”

There was genuine frustration in his voice now.

Not at her.

At himself.

“I don’t get jealous,” he said firmly, like maybe if he sounded confident enough the universe would rewind the last twenty minutes and restore his dignity. “Usually couldn’t care less who’s flirtin’ with who.”

Another pause.

Then quieter:

“Now suddenly every asshole in this room makin’ eyes at you feels like a personal attack.”

And the worst part?

She looked amused by it.

Warm.

Pleased, even.

Which only made his pulse kick harder beneath his collar.

She knows.

That realization sent heat straight through him.

She knew she had him off-balance.

Knew she was getting under his skin. Knew he kept looking at her mouth every time she laughed. Knew he’d started waiting for her to appear places like some lovesick idiot in a noir film.

And somehow instead of terrifying him enough to walk away, it just kept dragging him closer.

His forehead nearly brushed hers as he leaned down slightly, the scent of her perfume threading through the pine-and-amber warmth of his cologne until he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began anymore. His hand slid higher against her back, fingertips pressing lightly between her shoulder blades while they moved together slowly with the music.

Too close.

Didn’t move away.

Couldn’t, honestly.

Because every second near her felt like voluntarily stepping deeper into quicksand while fully aware of what was happening.

“And honestly?” he murmured softly, eyes searching hers now with something dangerously close to vulnerability. “That’s probably the part that scares me most.”

Not the possibility that she was dangerous.

Not the secrets.

Not even the case.

No.

What scared Cameron Piney was how quickly she’d wrapped him around her finger without even trying very hard.

A few coffees. Some teasing smiles. Late-night conversations. A handful of soft touches.

That was all it took.

Now he was standing in the middle of a crowded gala wanting to glare holes through every man who looked at her too long while simultaneously trying not to think about how perfectly she fit against him.

You are so unbelievably fucked.

And God help him, he still leaned closer anyway.

@echoesoftruth

[darlingshane]

Braxton & his cat THE ACCOUNTANT (2025)

[echoesoftruth]

Her heart stuttered the instant his voice slipped into the space between them. From where she stood, Liliana caught the scent of his cologne, pine and amber, warm and familiar, the kind of fragrance she was certain she’d passed before in a Bath & Body Works aisle.

A hand lifted to smooth his suit jacket, slender fingers splaying against the fabric as she stepped closer, angling herself to catch his words over the pulse of the club. Around them, the guards shifted in near-silent response. Without looking, she raised her free hand and gave a small, practiced gesture. She was fine. Stand down.

“A friend invited me,” she said lightly. “I’ve always wanted to see this place. Very exclusive.” Her head tipped to the side, curiosity curling into something playful. “What about you? Why are you here, hmm?”

Her eyes brightened as she asked it, teasing on the surface, though beneath it she already suspected the truth. Men like him rarely came here for pleasure alone.

“Now,” she said, lips curving, “you did promise you’d figure out my name. I can’t make it too easy for you.” A soft chuckle followed. “But I’ll be kind. You can call me Nia.”

Her fingers reached for the champagne in his hand, claiming the glass with an unhurried confidence. She took a measured sip, crimson lipstick blooming against the rim before she returned it to him.

“And like I said,” she added lightly, “a friend invited me to the club.”

Liliana reached for him, her hand settling briefly on his forearm before her fingers traced downward to his hand, guiding him with an easy confidence toward the dance floor’s glow.

“So,” she teased, glancing back at him, “are you here looking for someone? A bad guy, maybe?” A playful spark lit her eyes as she gave his hand a light tug. “Or are you going to dance with me?”

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

Cameron didn’t answer right away.

He let her lead him that last step closer into the wash of sound and light, the kind of place where secrets slipped easier because everything felt half-drowned in music.

The bass pressed into his ribs like a second heartbeat, and for a moment he forgot to catalog exits, forgot to count faces, forgot to remind himself that this was a job and she was, at best, a complication.

At worst? A mistake he was already halfway into making.

His grip tightened just slightly around her hand, not enough to stop her, just enough to anchor himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was pitched low, intimate, meant only for her. “You ever notice,” he said, “how the worst ideas always start with a smile and a ‘trust me’ look?”

His gaze flicked briefly over the room, not scanning now, not really, just enough to keep the lie alive that he was still in control. Then it came back to her, steady and intent, like she’d flipped a switch he hadn’t let anyone touch in years.

“Because if I’m being honest, Nia,” he went on, the nickname rolling off his tongue like he was testing how it fit, “I walked in here tellin’ myself I was just here to observe. Blend in. Keep my hands to myself.”

A breath. A pause. “And then you grabbed me like this was inevitable.”

He shifted, letting the music guide him closer, one hand settling at her waist again- warmer this time, more certain. There was a wall there, sure. Anyone with eyes could see it. Years of grit and guarded instincts stacked brick by brick behind his ribs. But the way his thumb moved, slow and deliberate, betrayed the cracks forming under the surface.

“You’re askin’ if I’m huntin’ a bad guy,” he murmured, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “Truth is, I don’t always know who that is until I’m already too close.” His eyes softened, just a fraction. “And tonight? I can’t tell if I followed the right trail… or if I let myself get distracted by someone who knows exactly what she’s doin’.”

He leaned in then, forehead nearly brushing hers, the smell of her perfume threading into his senses and settling somewhere dangerous. “But I’ll give you this; you don’t feel like a trap.” A beat. “And that scares me more than if you were.”

The music slowed, bodies swaying around them, and Cameron finally let himself move with her fully, steps easy, unhurried, like he’d done this a thousand times and somehow never like this. His hand slid higher, resting between her shoulder blades, guiding without pushing, letting her choose the distance.

“So yeah,” he said quietly, honest in a way he usually saved for late nights and bad decisions, “I’ll dance. I’ll play nice. I’ll even pretend I’m not wonderin’ what it’d feel like if you decided to keep your arms right where they belong.”

His eyes met hers, dark and searching, curiosity burning beneath the charm. “Just don’t ask me to promise I won’t regret it.” A faint smirk followed. “I’ve already crossed that line once tonight.”

[darlingshane]

Braxton flipping stuff up. THE ACCOUNTANT 2 (2025)

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

Cameron had absolutely no idea why he was never able to hear her before she approached him in their, unknowingly initiated, game of cat and mouse; each of them taking great pride in being able to surprise the other.

And he did surprise her, no matter how steely she kept her demeanor- he could still see the surprise, the genuine intrigue, the curiosity, when it came to how he found her again.

No. Fucking. Idea.

And it pissed him off so fucking much because he was never able to do the same. He would always be an open book of surprise, despite always being on alert for her, for a split second while she kept her reaction to him catching her off guard was the exact opposite of what he would do every damn time she snuck up on him and start the dance they would play, neither of them actually feeling the annoyance that he thought had to be fake.

Granted, when he thought that, he was drunk.

And did not seem to be intent on stopping when it came to ordering another drink; to the annoyance of his best friend and field partner Declan- but really, was it fair that the other man had to hear about this mystery woman's hold on Cameron while watching him pretend she wasn't fucking with his head?

However, it made sense to Cam that there had to be something more substantial, something akin to two magnets being pulled together, time after time.

Otherwise, why else would they actually anticipate their game with the little gifts- what else could he call them at this point, for Christ's sake, the last thing she'd shown up with was a squishy pillow that looked like a California roll only to say with a sweet smile paired with mischief sparkling in her eyes that she thought he had looked like he hadn't been sleeping right so she got him a "better pillow".

(He would choose to ignore the following jibe of her calling him an old man).

She clearly felt comfortable enough to be teasing him, even knowing whatever it was that she did know about the detective.

So yes. If he always ended up a little bit more sarcastic with her, more cranky, it was because it had been weeks of whatever this was, and she had him down to a T, and still, still Cameron wasn't even close to a nickname, a nickname for Pete's sake!. He just kept trying one after the other with her, hoping for her to put him out of his agonizing curiosity.

Not even having the first letter of her actual name at this point; and there were no words that could describe how frustrated he was that he was so invested that it even had that effect on him, and at the same time, he couldn't help the fact that he was as addicted to his interactions with her as he used to be with liquor.

Everything about her had him seeing red flags after red flags, "DANGER" almost like a neon sign in his mind when he thought about her.

But be that as it may, and as intoxicating she really was- frustrated or not- Cameron simply slanted his eyes at her, an unamused expression covering his features.

He knew better than to bring attention to the fact that yes, he had indeed almost jumped in surprise when she snuck up on him. The first time that happened... the memory still brings him the sting of his pride, and at that point onwards, is when she started their game, if he thinks about it.

"Seventh? Babygirl, I don't know who you got being your watchdog, but this is way, way beyond my seventh cup of coffee. Trust me, if it ever came in the form of an I.V., oh hell, the world would be in trouble then." He sassed back at her, finally letting his stony mask relax enough for the moment, the slight upwards curve of his lips being the only unknowing tell of his.

Not that he knew it, of course. In his mind, he was a brick wall. Unreadable.

Although, do keep in mind that he does have his moments of stupidity.

She looked stunning as per usual, still not leaving any hint of her actual identity and captivating him in record time, leaning back against his chair to look at her.

"But thank you for the seemingly endless supply." With a bit of something close enough to boost his ego at the thought of her thinking of him and trying to figure out what it was that he drank, something to think about later, that sent a shiver down his spine.

In his life, he recognized that people always have to cope with something at some point, and everyone has a vice.

His had just ended up being a switch from alcohol to coffee.

So after taking the first sip of the hot beverage, the man had to pause for a moment, speaking only after he had swallowed. "This... I'm not even going to ask how you knew how I take my coffee because this is the best fuckin' cup I've ever had before. Where the absolute hell did you go? I need to move into their store."

Was he purposely not answering her question?

Well...

@echoesoftruth @writewithjas

[echoesoftruth]

Liliana chuckled when he insisted it wasn’t his seventh cup of coffee. Of course, that only made her grin wider—she knew he was a coffee addict. Now she was determined to introduce him to every kind of brew that matched his tastes.

She raised her cup to her lips, took a sip, then remembered something. “Oh—almost forgot.” God, she loved hearing him laugh. She hadn’t realized it until the fourth or fifth time she’d surprised it out of him. She couldn’t recall what she’d said to make him laugh, only the way his eyes crinkled and his cheeks flushed—how she could tell it was a real smile. And now, she hoped to see it again as she handed him a small box.

Inside? Doughnuts. A playful nod to his job—a classic cop cliché.

“So, you like the fancy stuff,” Liliana teased with another chuckle, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the table, her chin propped in one palm. “It’s my favorite spot, you know.” A smirk played on her lips. “But you’ll have to find me to learn where I get your coffee.”

Was it a challenge? An invitation? Maybe both.

“Oh, come on, Agent Piney. Still haven’t figured out my name?” There was no mistaking the spark in her eyes—Liliana was thoroughly enjoying herself. She’d never been pursued like this before, and she wasn’t about to tell Orion. He’d try to shield her, to keep her innocent, unaware that she already knew more about the family business than he realized.

“Any leads?” she asked, reclining in her chair, legs crossed casually. For a brief second, the world faded away—it was just the two of them in that quiet little café. But before he could say anything, she stood, leaned in close, and whispered against his ear, “Let’s see if you figure out my name next time we meet.”

She pulled back with a smile. “And please—eat the doughnuts. I heard they’re the precinct’s favorite.”

With a gentle touch to his shoulder, she turned and left.

Who would’ve guessed Cameron could clean up so well? For once, he wasn’t in his usual detective gear. Tonight, he looked ready for a night out—sharp, confident, and far from the man who usually chased criminals for a living.

Liliana couldn't help but shoot him a flirtatious smile as her friends melted away, leaving the two of them a sliver of privacy.

“Hey, you,” she said softly.

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

"This the fancy shit? Damn, honey. Why'd you go spendin' that kinda dough on an old beatup Agent?" He sassed back, just as he took an exuberant and clearly unnecessary lingering sip, all the while still making direct eye contact with her, a brow arched in jest.

Ah fuck it, he couldn't help himself from playfully winking, pulling the cup away when he saw her chocolate colored gaze drop to his throat as he swallowed, mentally cataloging the fact that he did have the same effect on her as she did on him.

No one said he was stupid. But someone did say he had a specific effect on women. Cameron figured that now was as good of a time to test the theory.

So when he took a second gulp of the smoothest coffee he'd ever had, he didn't stop himself this time from making a slight noise of pleasure before catching her gaze once more, the cup pulled away so that he could languidly trail the tip of his tongue over the bit of dropped coffee from his lip.

"What makes you think I don't know where you are, when I want to, and anytime I'm curious?" Cameron baited her with a daring flash of teeth, grinning at her as he looked into the box, only to tilt his head and give her a deadpanned expression.

"And why do you seem to think I don't know your name, sweetheart? Maybe I just like reminding you of just how much you seem to captivate me. Ever think of that?"

No. He had no fucking leads when it came to her name and it was seriously frustrating him to the point where she was all he could think about. And he didn't even have her name. Made him feel like that little school kid with his first crush, the one he tries to forget existed in his past.

Just as he was about to give her a confused look, because what did she know about his case, his mystery woman cut off any form of thought and caused him to freeze, even stopping his breath for a few moments, the second he had a whiff of her perfume.

God help him. If he bit his folded fist's knuckles, he wondered if anyone would be able to tell that he was dangerously close to giving in. Turning his face towards hers so that he could trail his astonished gaze over her beautiful, delicate features before tipping his chin up to catch her berry-stained lips a kiss, just like he'd been aching for since their first meeting.

But he wasn't an idiot. He couldn't afford to get distracted, not on this job, not on this case. Not when it meant something to him personally.

So he played it off with a huff of what others could assume was sarcasm, but with him, it was just another reminder that he was playing in dangerous waters. "You know too fuckin' much about me, angel. Makes me think curious thoughts, you know. You know who I am, but I know nothing about you at all. What makes you so sure I won't lose interest in this one-sided game?" He baited her, brow raised in challenge. One that he would never man up to, but she didn't know that.

Before he could come up with another rhetorical question that he never thought he would even entertain, she had already left him staring after her shapely figure- thank God for whoever sculpted those jeans because just one look at her ass had him unknowingly biting down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood.

He had to thank whoever it was that she didn't see him and continued forward, not glancing back when he focused on her graceful, dancelike stride; Cameron didn't know to whom they were given to but thanks were thrown out to the universe in haste by the obvious detective, his jeans almost entirely tented just by their verbal sparring.

Fuck. He was in trouble, wasn't he?

About a week later, his work had him suited up in a tuxedo, much to his annoyance, and no- he would never admit that he'd given in to the astonishingly pushy make up artists that demanded that a pretty face like his shouldn't carry so many bruises or cuts.

That's how he found himself at a charity gala for the upper class, somewhere rumored to be a meeting event, so to speak, for just the types of people he was after.

What he was NOT expecting, however, was the cold freeze of surprise that washed over him, followed by the fuzziness of confusion when he spotted his mystery girl walk across the room, laughing with a gaggle of her friends.

For once, it felt like he had the upper hand on her as he observed her interactions with guests and staff, causing a brow to be raised in utter confusion before dismissing the thought to follow after her.

Not that his plan worked, anyway. She seemingly spotted him the very first chance she had, to his annoyance.

Reaching out to snag a glass of champagne from a waiter's tray, he turned so that he could rest his calloused palm against the very backless dress that she had on, his fingertips rubbing soft soothing circles against her hip without thought.

"Should I even bother asking you what you're doing here? Tonight, of all times? No? Yeah, I thought you'd say that." He replied with a bit of a gruff manner, not too keen at having something pulled over his head in this way.

"You gonna cut the bullshit, babydoll? What's your name? Or... a nickname! What the hell is a person like you doing in...well, this mess?"

@echoesoftruth

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

God Damn it!

He knew getting the parking space right where he did, when he did just had to be too good of a thing for the damn Detective. Led her straight to him, this time, it seems.

It'd been about a few weeks of surveillance on anyone who had ties to the Vipers, and he just couldn't see how his assignee was this beautiful, seemingly kind woman with- God dayumn, as much sass on her lips as possible; something that ironically was one of the ways someone could slip by his senses, especially when it came to women as stunning as she was.

So when his mark approached him and broke his cover, one that he wasn't really that interested in upholding, truth be told. It didn't make sense for him to be given this task but not told who he was looking for! All he knew was that he just kept seeing her, HER, the woman at his window. At every single location, every day so far.

Perhaps when he was thinking with the right brain, the thought drifted through his hazy mind as he forced himself to keep his gaze on her face, and what a face it was, instead of dipping to her low cut blouse... maybe then, things would make more sense to him.

But right now? Right now, Cam was on lunch and did not care.

Grinning at her, he glanced over at the file before looking back at her. "You know... there isn't a damn thing in that folder. Imagine my surprise, but... something tells me, you already knew that. Why don't- Hey! Wait!" In his jeans and just a shirt with a flannel for warmth, Cameron jumped out of the vehicle, fumbled with the things in his hands for a moment before cursing as he had to jog, fuck- he hated jogging- after her.

"Come on now, pretty girl. Don't I at least get a name from you? All I know is what you look like and what you do every day. That's it. I have no idea why this was given to me but... can't say I'm complaining, not after hearing that voice of yours." He teased her, falling in step beside her.

@echoesoftruth

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

Cameron had absolutely no idea why he was never able to hear her before she approached him in their, unknowingly initiated, game of cat and mouse; each of them taking great pride in being able to surprise the other.

And he did surprise her, no matter how steely she kept her demeanor- he could still see the surprise, the genuine intrigue, the curiosity, when it came to how he found her again.

No. Fucking. Idea.

And it pissed him off so fucking much because he was never able to do the same. He would always be an open book of surprise, despite always being on alert for her, for a split second while she kept her reaction to him catching her off guard was the exact opposite of what he would do every damn time she snuck up on him and start the dance they would play, neither of them actually feeling the annoyance that he thought had to be fake.

Granted, when he thought that, he was drunk.

And did not seem to be intent on stopping when it came to ordering another drink; to the annoyance of his best friend and field partner Declan- but really, was it fair that the other man had to hear about this mystery woman's hold on Cameron while watching him pretend she wasn't fucking with his head?

However, it made sense to Cam that there had to be something more substantial, something akin to two magnets being pulled together, time after time.

Otherwise, why else would they actually anticipate their game with the little gifts- what else could he call them at this point, for Christ's sake, the last thing she'd shown up with was a squishy pillow that looked like a California roll only to say with a sweet smile paired with mischief sparkling in her eyes that she thought he had looked like he hadn't been sleeping right so she got him a "better pillow".

(He would choose to ignore the following jibe of her calling him an old man).

She clearly felt comfortable enough to be teasing him, even knowing whatever it was that she did know about the detective.

So yes. If he always ended up a little bit more sarcastic with her, more cranky, it was because it had been weeks of whatever this was, and she had him down to a T, and still, still Cameron wasn't even close to a nickname, a nickname for Pete's sake!. He just kept trying one after the other with her, hoping for her to put him out of his agonizing curiosity.

Not even having the first letter of her actual name at this point; and there were no words that could describe how frustrated he was that he was so invested that it even had that effect on him, and at the same time, he couldn't help the fact that he was as addicted to his interactions with her as he used to be with liquor.

Everything about her had him seeing red flags after red flags, "DANGER" almost like a neon sign in his mind when he thought about her.

But be that as it may, and as intoxicating she really was- frustrated or not- Cameron simply slanted his eyes at her, an unamused expression covering his features.

He knew better than to bring attention to the fact that yes, he had indeed almost jumped in surprise when she snuck up on him. The first time that happened... the memory still brings him the sting of his pride, and at that point onwards, is when she started their game, if he thinks about it.

"Seventh? Babygirl, I don't know who you got being your watchdog, but this is way, way beyond my seventh cup of coffee. Trust me, if it ever came in the form of an I.V., oh hell, the world would be in trouble then." He sassed back at her, finally letting his stony mask relax enough for the moment, the slight upwards curve of his lips being the only unknowing tell of his.

Not that he knew it, of course. In his mind, he was a brick wall. Unreadable.

Although, do keep in mind that he does have his moments of stupidity.

She looked stunning as per usual, still not leaving any hint of her actual identity and captivating him in record time, leaning back against his chair to look at her.

"But thank you for the seemingly endless supply." With a bit of something close enough to boost his ego at the thought of her thinking of him and trying to figure out what it was that he drank, something to think about later, that sent a shiver down his spine.

In his life, he recognized that people always have to cope with something at some point, and everyone has a vice.

His had just ended up being a switch from alcohol to coffee.

So after taking the first sip of the hot beverage, the man had to pause for a moment, speaking only after he had swallowed. "This... I'm not even going to ask how you knew how I take my coffee because this is the best fuckin' cup I've ever had before. Where the absolute hell did you go? I need to move into their store."

Was he purposely not answering her question?

Well...

@echoesoftruth @writewithjas

[echoesoftruth]

@cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney

It's unusual to see the same man on the third day of the week.

Liliana recalls a gentleman she noticed at a café one afternoon. Later, while out with friends, she spotted him following her car for the third time that week.

However, this isn't mere coincidence. To identify who was following her, she ordered herself and the stranger a cup of coffee. When her order was ready, she exited the coffee shop through the alleyway to catch the stranger off guard.

Liliana knocked on the window while he was distracted and grinned at him, "Hey there, I thought you could use this," she said as the window lowered, a playful smile on her face. "On Tuesday, I noticed you following me, and again on Wednesday, which made me think it had to be a coincidence." She shrugged her shoulders. "But by today? Definitely not." She handed the stranger his cup of coffee. "So, what are you- a private investigator?" A hand pushed her hair back as she continued, "Or maybe someone hired you to tail me-" she hummed softly. "You can't be from the IRS; my accountant would have already called. I know you don't work for my stylist because I've met all her employees." Leaning against his car, she added, "Not a spy, either- they'd know better than to leave their target's file on the front seat." A chuckle escaped her lips as she stepped away from his car.

"Look, why don't you tell whoever it is that if they want to discuss something, they should get out of their little cubicle and call me themselves."

Liliana maintained eye contact. "Cause the next time we meet, I won't be this nice. Enjoy your coffee; it's my favorite." She flashed him a smile before safely crossing the street.

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

God Damn it!

He knew getting the parking space right where he did, when he did just had to be too good of a thing for the damn Detective. Led her straight to him, this time, it seems.

It'd been about a few weeks of surveillance on anyone who had ties to the Vipers, and he just couldn't see how his assignee was this beautiful, seemingly kind woman with- God dayumn, as much sass on her lips as possible; something that ironically was one of the ways someone could slip by his senses, especially when it came to women as stunning as she was.

So when his mark approached him and broke his cover, one that he wasn't really that interested in upholding, truth be told. It didn't make sense for him to be given this task but not told who he was looking for! All he knew was that he just kept seeing her, HER, the woman at his window. At every single location, every day so far.

Perhaps when he was thinking with the right brain, the thought drifted through his hazy mind as he forced himself to keep his gaze on her face, and what a face it was, instead of dipping to her low cut blouse... maybe then, things would make more sense to him.

But right now? Right now, Cam was on lunch and did not care.

Grinning at her, he glanced over at the file before looking back at her. "You know... there isn't a damn thing in that folder. Imagine my surprise, but... something tells me, you already knew that. Why don't- Hey! Wait!" In his jeans and just a shirt with a flannel for warmth, Cameron jumped out of the vehicle, fumbled with the things in his hands for a moment before cursing as he had to jog, fuck- he hated jogging- after her.

"Come on now, pretty girl. Don't I at least get a name from you? All I know is what you look like and what you do every day. That's it. I have no idea why this was given to me but... can't say I'm complaining, not after hearing that voice of yours." He teased her, falling in step beside her.

@echoesoftruth

[cameronxwatchyouburnxpiney]

Headcanons

Personality Traits Cameron is a study in contradictions—gritty and guarded yet deeply empathetic beneath the surface. A survivor first and foremost, he developed emotional armor out of necessity, but it hasn't dulled his moral compass—if anything, it's sharpened it.

Observant & Analytical: Cameron sees things others miss. Years in foster homes taught him how to read microexpressions, detect changes in tone, and sense when something’s off—skills that now make him a hell of a profiler.

Relentless: Once he's locked on a target—be it a suspect or a lead—he doesn’t stop. Obsession is both his strength and his curse.

Wry & Guarded: Quick with sarcasm and slow to trust, he hides his vulnerability behind biting wit and an unshakable poker face.

Protective: He’ll go to war for the people he cares about—even if that list is short. He never lets someone suffer if he can stop it.

Emotionally Compartmentalized: He carries every case with him but rarely lets anyone see the toll. His nightmares are private. His grief is quiet.

Loyal, to a Fault: Once you've earned his trust, it’s absolute. Betray him, and you won’t get another shot.

Likes

Rainy Days – Something about the sound calms his always-on brain. Plus, it’s easier to think when the world’s quieter.

Dogs – Grew up with one in his earliest memory. Still stops to pet strays and donates to rescue shelters when he can.

Black Coffee & Cheap Cigarettes – Not great habits, but they’re his. Coffee keeps him sharp, and cigarettes keep his hands busy.

Puzzle Boxes & Cold Cases – The harder the mystery, the more satisfying the solve.

Leather Jackets & Quiet Bars – He’s not much for attention. He prefers places where no one asks questions and the jukebox still plays rock.

Greek Mythology – Something about flawed gods and cursed heroes speaks to him. He sees a lot of himself in the ones who keep trying, even when they shouldn’t.

Her Laugh – He’d never admit it aloud, but Orion’s sister’s laugh? It’s the only sound that’s made him forget a case in the middle of one.