#Cairo sweet

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Can’t Break Tradition

cairo sweet x female reader

summary: You and Cairo are rivals in the workplace. What’s with all the tension at your holiday party?

word count: 3k

a/n: office life au. Merry Christmas!

————

“So I hear you’re still gunning for that promotion huh?”

You shrug, “Mhmm yeah” you say uninterested as your eyes dart around the lavish ballroom your company rented for the holiday party. The massive chandeliers, fancy ice sculptures, and bustling crowd do little to distract from your real focus tonight.

The rando from the IT department that you managed to find yourself in a conversation with responds. “Is that why you and Cairo have this whole thing going on?”

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps to him, your brows furrowing slightly. “Whole thing?”

“You know what I mean,” he laughs waving his arm off like you said a joke. “Everyone knows," he says leaning in like he's about to share some juicy gossip. "I heard from Iris, who heard from Janice, who heard Winnie talking to Glenn, that apparently Cairo sabotaged your presentation last week so she could take over your clients." He finished cautiously.

Of course you knew what he meant by whole thing. Everyone in your department—Writing and Communications, knew that you and Cairo Sweet were both sworn enemies. Joining the company at the same time, in the same position, had practically set the stage for it—like fate had decided you were destined to clash.

What surprised you is that the tale of you and her had reached other departments. And considering the fact that this was the third person tonight to bring up Cairo to you, it was clear your dislike for each other hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone in the company.

As the IT guy rambled on about something, your eyes finally found what you were looking for. There she was: Cairo Sweet, standing at the top of the grand staircase. Draped in a perfectly tailored red dress that hugged her figure just right, she descended the steps with an effortless grace, completely aware to the sea of male coworkers now openly gawking at her.

You tugged at your red tie, the fabric suddenly feeling too tight against your collar, and scoffed under your breath. “Someone clearly mistook ‘holiday party’ for the Met Gala. Totally unprofessional,” you muttered, the sneer in your voice unmistakable.

“I think she looks incredible,” the IT guy said, glancing at you with a grin.

You shot him a sharp side-eye and rolled your eyes for good measure before scanning the room again. Cairo had disappeared from view, and you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of irritation as you tried to pinpoint where she’d gone.

Knowing where she was meant knowing where to avoid.

“Seriously, though,” the IT guy continued, oblivious to your distraction. “You two really know how to keep everyone entertained. I mean, the banter, the glares—it’s like you’re living in a rom-com, only without the romance part.”

You snorted, finally tearing your gaze away from the crowd. “You sure are right about that. There’s nothing romantic about Sweet. She’s all ego and sabotage wrapped in a designer dress.”

The IT guy just shrugged, clearly amused. “If you say so. Anyways, good luck with that promotion. Looks like she’s already working the room.” He pointed toward the bar, where Cairo was now standing, chatting animatedly with a group of senior managers.

You clenched your jaw, the sight of her effortless charm setting you on edge. Of course, she was already playing the game. Cairo Sweet didn’t just show up—she made sure everyone noticed her.

Determined not to let her get under your skin, you grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server and made your way across the room. You weren’t about to let her win tonight.

But just as you reached the edge of the bar, Cairo turned, her sharp gaze locking onto yours like a heat-seeking missile. Her lips curved into a smirk, and for a moment, the air between you crackled with tension.

“Y/n,” she greeted smoothly, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “Enjoying the party?”

“Trying to,” you shot back, your voice laced with sarcasm. “Though it’s hard to relax when certain people keep making everything about them.”

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, you know.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but before you could, your colleague and best friend Glenn’s voice cut in.

“Whoa, whoa, easy there, you two,” he said, stepping between you with a grin. “Can’t you at least pretend to get along for one night? It’s the holidays.”

“Tell that to her,” you said, jerking your thumb toward Cairo.

“Please,” Cairo scoffed, crossing her arms. “If anyone needs a lesson in playing nice, it’s you.”

Glenn laughed, clearly unfazed by the tension. “Classic you two. Anyway, don’t let me interrupt. Just thought I’d enjoy the show while it lasts.”

As Glenn stepped away, Cairo leaned in again, her eyes glinting with something you’ve seen countless times. “Careful, Y/n. Keep glaring at me like that, and people might think you actually care.”

With that, she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing there, your champagne untouched and your pulse racing.

“You know, for someone who claims to hate her, you sure spend a lot of time looking for her,” Glenn says turning around and rejoining the conversation, holding a drink in one hand and his trademark grin on full display.

You groaned internally. Of course, Glenn had to watch that interaction. Your best friend always had a knack for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. “Don’t start,” you muttered, shooting him a warning look.

“What? I’m just saying,” He teased, leaning casually against the nearby bar. “First thing you do when you walk into a room is look for her. It’s like clockwork.”

“I wasn’t looking for her,” you lied, adjusting your tie again.

Glenn barked out a laugh. “Right. And I’m next in line for CEO. Come on, admit it—you love the drama. You and Cairo going at it is like some kind of soap opera for this office. My sister says even her team takes bets on who’s gonna snap first.”

You rolled your eyes, though your stomach twisted at the mention of Winnie. Of course, Glenn’s sister would be involved— Cairo and Winnie were practically inseparable. And if Winnie was anything—she was observant. If Winnie was running her mouth about you and Cairo, then there was no telling what kind of nonsense the office was spinning.

“Winnie doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” you said firmly.

Glenn raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure she doesn’t. Look, I get it. Cairo can be... intense. But you’ve gotta admit, she keeps you on your toes. Maybe that’s why you’re so obsessed with hating her.”

“Obsessed?” you repeated, incredulous. “I’m not obsessed. She’s just—”

“Here we go,” Glenn interrupted with a grin, gesturing for you to continue. “Let me guess. She’s arrogant, competitive, impossible to work with—did I miss anything?”

You scowled, crossing your arms. “She’s all of that and more. Trust me, if I could avoid her, I would.”

Your friend smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Uh-huh. Sure. But you’d be bored out of your mind without her around. Admit it, she makes things interesting.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat as your eyes found Cairo again. She was across the room now, laughing at something Winnie said, her smile lighting up the space around her.

Glenn followed your gaze and let out a low whistle. “Man, if that’s what hatred looks like, then sign me up.”

You tore your eyes away, glaring at him. “Shut up, G.”

He just laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “Whatever you say, buddy. But if there's something else going on,” he winks, "Then feel free to confide in me."

You shook your head, as he walked off looking to network with someone that could probably make him the next CEO. You gave up on the champagne and flag the bartender down to make you something stronger.

The bartender, a sharp-eyed woman with a no-nonsense air, approached with a towel slung over her shoulder. She tilted her head, her lips quirking in an amused smile as she set a tumbler in front of you. "Let me guess—bad night already?"

You sighed, resting your elbows on the bar. "You have no idea."

As she mixed your drink, she glanced at you, her brow lifting. "You’re Y/n, right?"

You froze. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

She leaned closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. "I’ve heard the whispers. You and Sweet." Her lips pulled into a smirk. "You guys really hate each other that much, or is it just for show?"

You groaned, rubbing a hand over your face. "Seriously? Even the bartender knows?"

She laughed, sliding your drink across the bar. "Hey, I’ve got ears. And let me tell you, office gossip is way more entertaining than the soap operas my grandma used to watch. People are saying it’s like the ultimate rivalry. You know, ‘will they or won’t they.’"

"It’s a ‘won’t they,’" you muttered, taking a sip of your drink. "Definitely a ‘won’t they.’"

The bartender shrugged, unconvinced. "If you say so. But honestly, you two sound like you’re either gonna kill each other or..." She trailed off, her smirk widening.

"Don’t even finish that sentence," you warned, pointing at her with your glass, looking around you for prying ears.

She chuckled, holding her hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

As you took another sip, you glanced down the bar and froze. There she was—Cairo—leaning casually against the counter, her red dress shimmering under the dim lights. Beside her, some overly confident guy was clearly trying his luck, gesturing animatedly as he spoke. Cairo’s smile didn’t falter, but you could tell from the way her body angled slightly away from him that she wasn’t interested.

Your grip on the glass tightened.

The bartender, noticing your shift in attention, followed your gaze. "Ah, there she is. The infamous Cairo. Gotta admit, she’s got style."

The bartender then noticed her pushy company. "Looks like someone’s got her hands full."

You rolled your eyes, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp. "Yeah, well, she can handle it."

"Sure she can," the bartender said with a smirk. "But you’re still watching, aren’t you?"

You ignored the comment, setting the empty glass on the counter. "Thanks for the drink," you said curtly before standing and adjusting your tie.

Your focus already zeroed in on the scene unfolding at the other end of the bar. You knew more than anything that Cairo could handle this situation herself, but your legs had a mind of their own.

By the time you reached her, just as you’d predicted, the guy was already retreating, his shoulders slumping with dejection. Cairo’s sharp gaze followed him for a second before shifting to you. Her expression softened, ever so slightly, but her voice remained crisp.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Y/l/n?" she asked, tilting her head.

You slid into the space the guy had just vacated, leaning casually against the bar. "Just doing my civic duty. Looked like you were stuck with a walking HR complaint."

Cairo smirked, a flicker of amusement crossing her face. "And here I thought you were avoiding me tonight. How uncharacteristic of you."

You shrugged, signaling to the bartender for another drink. "Not everything’s about you, Sweet. I was thirsty."

Her eyes narrowed slightly, a playful glint hidden beneath her usual sharpness. "Right. And yet, here you are, conveniently stationed right next to me."

The bartender slides you another drink.

You met her gaze, holding it for a beat longer than necessary. "If you want to believe the universe keeps throwing us together, who am I to argue?"

"Well," she said, her voice quieter but no less cutting, "the universe must have a cruel sense of humor."

You smirked, setting your glass down. "Or it just knows how much fun we have hating each other."

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "You have no idea."

Before you could respond, someone from your team called her name from across the room. Cairo straightened, her professional mask sliding back into place with ease.

"Looks like I’m needed," she said, her tone light but her eyes lingering on yours for just a moment too long.

"Don’t let me keep you," you said, stepping aside.

As she walked away, you couldn’t help but watch her go, the familiar mix of emotions churning in your chest.

————

The evening progressed with a blur of polite conversation and forced laughs as you navigated the crowd. Glenn eventually found you again, dragging you toward a smaller room just off the main ballroom where some of the younger employees, including Winnie, had apparently decided to congregate.

“Come on, Y/n, this is where the real party’s happening,” Glenn said, grinning as he pulled you along.

The room was cozier than the grand ballroom, with dim lighting and a more relaxed vibe. People were sprawled on couches, perched on armrests, or standing in clusters, laughing and chatting over drinks. The hum of conversation was punctuated by bursts of laughter as someone commanded the group with an animated story.

You scanned the room, and your stomach flipped when you spotted Cairo sitting comfortably on the armrest of a couch, a drink in hand and a look of mild amusement on her face as she listened to whatever Winnie was telling. Great. Of course she was here.

“Y/n!” Winnie called out, spotting you and immediately waving you over. “Come join us. We were just talking about your legendary showdown with Cairo last month.”

You rolled your eyes as Glenn shoved you toward the group. “Can we not?” you muttered, but it was too late.

Cairo’s gaze flicked to you, her expression unreadable, but you swore there was a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

The evening wore on, and the atmosphere grew increasingly relaxed as more drinks flowed. Someone turned on music, and a few people started dancing in the center of the room. Glenn, ever the life of the party, was in his element, cracking jokes and keeping everyone entertained.

Then, out of nowhere, someone shouted, “Mistletoe!”

The room fell silent as heads turned, eyes scanning for the culprits. You froze, your gaze darting up instinctively. There it was—dangling innocently from the ceiling above you. And of course when you turn to see who had occupied the space behind you—Cairo.

“Oh, this is too good,” Glenn said, his grin so wide it practically split his face. “Y/n and Cairo, under the mistletoe? This is golden.”

Winnie’s laughter rang out, and someone else whistled. “Rules are rules, you two!”

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks as the room erupted into cheers and chants of, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Cairo, ever composed, arched an eyebrow at you, her lips quirking into a half-smile that only you could see.

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as every eye in the room bore into you. There was no escape, no snarky comment that could deflect this situation.

“Oh, come on, guys. I’m not trying to deal with HR on Monday,” you said with a dry laugh, taking a small step back from Cairo and the mistletoe.

From the crowd, Glenn’s voice rang out, loud and clear, “Boo! Loser! HR’s not invited to this party!”

The room erupted into laughter and cheers, with someone else shouting, “Yeah, live a little, Y/n!”

Before you could respond, Cairo rolls her eyes, and sighs dramatically like what she's about to do will take the life out of her. "I guess we can't break tradition."

And then her lips brushed yours in a soft, little more than corporate friendly, fleeting, yet enough to send a spark through your entire body kiss. The room erupted into cheers and whoops as she pulled back, her expression unreadable.

You immediately wiped your lips as Cairo turned on her heel and walked away into the crowd, leaving you standing there, dazed and entirely unsure of what the hell just happened.

You blinked, still rooted to the spot, before your feet carried you instinctively toward Glenn and Winnie. Glenn’s face lit up the moment he saw you, his mouth opening to unleash whatever snarky comment was brewing.

“Don’t,” you snapped sharply, holding up a hand, your voice laced with a warning edge that made him laugh even harder.

Winnie raised her glass in mock salute, biting back a grin. “What? No post-mistletoe debrief?”

You groaned, rubbing a hand down your face. “I hate both of you.”

Glenn smirked. “Sure you do, buddy. Sure you do.”

————

Moments later in a dimly lit private room in the venue, the faint thrum of the music from the party outside is barely audible through the thick walls. Cairo’s hands are tangled in your hair, her touch possessive and demanding as her back presses against the edge of a table. Her lips are on yours, urgent and searing, leaving no space for hesitation.

You gasp softly, breaking away just long enough to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Cairo’s dark eyes lock onto yours, her flushed face illuminated by the faint glow of fairy lights strung along the walls.

“You didn’t have to look that disgusted when you kissed me,” she breathes, her voice low but edged with challenge.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you tease, lips quirking into a smirk. “Did I hurt your feelings?”

Her expression hardens playfully, and before you can react, she grabs your red tie—the one you deliberately wore to match with her dress. She tightens it just enough around her fist to make you stumble closer—and pulls you into a kiss that obliterates any thought of teasing. It’s heated, raw, and dripping with hours of pent-up tension. Her nails rake lightly against the back of your neck as her other hand fists the fabric of your shirt, holding you close like she can’t bear to let go.

Your hands find her waist, fingers digging into the silky fabric of her dress as you kiss her back with equal fervor, pouring every ounce of your secret into the moment. The world outside could have been burning to the ground, and neither of you would have noticed.

When you finally pull away for air, your forehead rests against hers, both of you panting. A grin spreads across your face as you take in her disheveled hair and swollen lips. “Think anyone suspects us after that kiss under the mistletoe?”

Cairo shakes her head slightly, her lips barely an inch from yours. “Not a chance,” she murmurs, her voice a mix of satisfaction and mischief. “They’re too busy thinking we hate each other.”

“Good,” you reply, your grin turning sly as you capture her lips again. This time, the kiss is slower but no less passionate, a promise that this secret, this fire between you, is yours alone.

For now.

Taglist: @cobaltperun @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88 @101rizzlrr @snowdrop1026 @ilovesneezing069 @btay3115 @burntoutghost

[silver-soul00]

Being a Wenclair fan means especially not drawing for no reason in the world fan art Jemma since uhm how to say..this ship makes Emma uncomfortable

But in general to shipp 2 real people would be to avoid always and in any case.

Rather you could create Wenclair or SweetCC themed stuff.

[jybyls]

Gays ! Next fic ?

[thisonewhocanbreathe]

“we need more complex female characters” the second women start showing a glimpse of emotion y’all call them over-sensitive or annoying. smh.

[apara-dise-penguin]

.JENNA ORTEGA as CAIRO SWEET and MARTIN FREEMAN as JONATHAN MILLER in MILLER’S GIRL.

[wesstars]

crush

cairo sweet x fem!reader (no pronouns used)

summary: when cairo goes home, what comes to mind are thoughts of you. wc: 2.3k tags: explicit, minors DNI!! all characters 18+. university au. masturbation, smoking, non-linear narrative. reader is cairo’s teaching assistant, reader described as masc presenting. a/n: let me know what y’all think :) for the vibes

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“Is Professor Miller not coming?” Winnie had just dropped into her unassigned assigned seat next to Cairo, two minutes before Greco-Roman Literary Theory started. The flipping of pages punctuated the chatter of other students waiting, a comfortable sound.

“He said he’d be gone today,” Cairo replied absently. “There’s a ‘guest lecturer,’ our teaching assistant.”

“Oh, right. Who’s that?”

Cairo shrugged. “Who knows.” 

As if on cue, the door swung open. Cairo didn’t even look up—Miller mentioned that he kept a handful of research assistants that would be there to help with the advanced reading. But honestly, Cairo wasn’t sure what they could tell her that she didn’t already know. A melodic hum fell through the air for just a moment, a chorus. 

“Good morning.” At your lilting voice, rough with the edge of 10am, Cairo started. She watched you set your messenger bag on the desk. Your white shirt pulled over your shoulders; there was a glint at your collar, a necklace peeking through. A thin watch adorned your wrist. Winnie, along with some of the class, echoed your greeting, and Cairo blinked.

Late spring afternoon draped across the furniture in Cairo’s room, the quickly waning light giving easy way to a blue hour. Dropping her bag at the door, she tore off her shirt and skirt with the confidence of one standing before a crowd. Running a hand up from her sternum to her neck, she stretched languidly, sinking down onto her bed. After so many uneventful days—when she applied to Yale, she didn’t think that there would be any uneventful days—she finally had a story to turn over in her mind. 

You. You were a mystery. Even as you had started the class with an introduction, telling Cairo you’d graduated from a middle-of-nowhere college in California and sought a writing career in Vermont before delving into research, she longed to lay out the details and pull them out from under the rug. Where did you learn to teach? Did you like to drive, or be driven? Mountains, or the sea? Where did you grow up? Was there coffee or tea in your cupboard? Cairo’s stomach burned to know. Her dark eyes burned the ceiling with smoke signals, searching for you even though you were god knows where in that seaside state.

Arching her back, Cairo let her hand travel down, palm flat against her stomach, to trace the seam of her upper thigh. As the class had progressed, your keenly observant nature did not elude Cairo. Maybe listening was something that your pedagogy instilled in you, but the way you held each student’s question in the cant of your head, an answer in your crinkling eyes, listening seemed to be in your nature. It was meticulous, the way you picked apart the class text, weaving in references and tying it all in. In that two hour lecture, Cairo learned that you watched the same way you listened. 

Balmy as it was, the humidity made her dark waves cling to her skin, and she shivered as she brushed them back, thinking of a different pair of slim hands. Your scrutiny of each student had an intention that she couldn’t quite place; a determination that thrilled her. Cairo imagined that you’d observe her the same way, that she would be the one you were most fond of. It was only natural that her own attention would draw yours onto her. Holding the weight of your envisioned gaze made Cairo’s core twist, a pleased little flush that she prayed you could see. Your affected impartiality didn’t bother Cairo—in fact, it pulled her into your shadow. In her bed, she rolled onto her stomach then her knees, shaking her hair out. 

Her hands were steady as she reached for her bedside table, thumb rolling on the wheel of her zippo as she held the cigarette to her lips. Cairo took a drag, blowing out neat smoke rings as she settled back on her heels. The skin of her own fingers was cool against her lips, and when she took the smoke away, she studied the pattern of her lipstick on the white paper as she had so many times before.

She’d watched, unabashedly and unafraid of being caught, as you drummed your fingers on the chalk tray. Would your fingertip be soft or work hardened if it pressed down her tongue? Would your skin carry the stain of her red lip as deeply, as obediently, as the malleable wrapping paper?

“Alright, class,” you cleared your throat, turning slowly around the room to make eye contact with each student. “As you know, Jonathan’s away on a conference today. I’ll start with a bit of roll, just so I can learn your names. Not many of you come to my office hours, I know.” You smiled easily. It was so guileless, Cairo mused, nearly childlike. You had the class go around the rooms with names and majors, a circuit that Cairo gave no attention to other than your lilting rhythm of hums, the tapping of your foot on the floor, the way you flicked the corner of the role sheet with your thumb. Your gaze was soon on hers, waiting expectantly. She looked right back with a blink.

“Cairo Sweet. English major.”

“Cairo.” Her name rolled off your innocent little grin, making her cock her head. “Wonderful.” Fascinating. Would you whisper midnight black desires in her ear, so deep and dark they might be murmured into the ink of your own empty room?

You continued, circling back to the front and easily transitioning to the lesson plan. You had an awfully effortless way of grasping the class’ attention, holding gently and never forcing. It wasn’t like Professor Miller, who always seemed to hasten through the lecture so he could return to his research. She could tell you liked the woods of the text, to fall down into the depths of each word, feeling its weight in you and letting it rock. Just like Cairo. 

She sighed into the warm air prickling up her skin, the curl of your voice around her name making her nipples harden in her bralette, even in retrospect. Exhaling around her cigarette, Cairo brought her hands up to palm her breasts, feeling the drag of her rubied nubs on her palms. Was it the high of the nicotine, the blur of smoke ridden air that made her float straight up into the lofty space you’d created in her mind? Though the feel of her own fingers scraping the lace against her skin was familiar, she found herself keen to think of your soft or callused hands. She was wet already, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten wet so fast.

The weight she imagined of your touch on her flushed skin was completely, deliciously foreign. Unbidden but intimately welcome, Cairo wished that your caress would find the map of her chest as familiar as a classic, something you had searched a million times over yet always managed to find something new. Shamelessly, Cairo trailed her fingers down her stomach, nails catching on every rib as she arched her back in the spilled moonlight. The mystery in the crossing of your long legs as you’d leaned back on the desk climbed up her belly, curling in the thump, thump, thump, of her heart. The uneven roll of your sleeves clung to the corners of her eyes, eidetic and oh, so, tempting. She had watched you so ardently—did you like to watch? Would you watch? 

The space between her thighs was achingly empty, craving the set of your narrow hips. She was comfortable there, and she remembered the taut stretch of wool as you dropped into your chair and set one ankle over your knee. There was something endearing about the way your trousers had pulled up to reveal slouchy black socks, and darker her mind went as the material pulling creases around your lap made her shudder and—she reached behind to pull one of her fluffy pillows under her, smoke billowing into the air. 

Cairo gave her hips an experimental roll, imagining it was the soft fabric of your slacks against her aching cunt, and grinned around her cigarette. Unlike the pillow, you would be ever so solid under her, grabbing for her thighs like a dog yearns to please. Were you more likely to bruise her skin, yanking her into you without care for blood—or would you guide her gently, make a home in her innocence and hold her more dearly than life ever could? Either way, your desire for Cairo would be so apparent that you couldn’t help yourself.

The dip of your tongue in her navel, the little smirk you’d undoubtedly wear as you went down further—would you go for her throbbing clit first, or would your lips press so warm—she didn’t know. She didn’t have to, content with all those different versions of you unfurling before her. In her bedroom, each time she moved her hips, it became easier to imagine you guiding her actions, the bump of your nose on her folds, damned if not addicting.

Cairo grinned as she fell onto her forearms, hips pushing into the soft pillow without abandon. The slide of her panties soaked with slick against her sensitive clit felt like the delicate press of your splayed hand on her desk as you’d passed, eyes occupied by the text you were holding. It had only been a split second, but it was enough for her to memorize every crease, every vein. Cairo let out a whine, a demanding little sound, as her movements grew erratic. Looking up into the heaven where you must be, she imagined that you’d murmur to her, “I’m here, I’m here, how could I be anywhere else but here?” as you traced the dip in her back. Her arousal took her down every sullied path she’d ever dreamed of, but her mind stuck on one gesture that made her mouth go dry. 

She remembered the way your shirt got just a bit untucked when you stretched during the class break. You’d instinctively tucked it back in, quick as you surveyed the class. Cairo thought that you’d dress yourself back up the same way after you bent her over the desk after class, pushing her skirt up and shoving your fingers into her, painting bruises onto her hip bones with how tight you held her.

The two of you would share a mutual understanding that she wanted this, wanted it bad enough for you to take it whenever you saw fit. Cairo decided that today, this time, you’d be as rough as you pleased, a cup of pens clattering to the ground as you pushed her down, forearm across her shoulder blades. Your necklace would be cold on her warm skin, would it be cold on her tongue? You’d put two, three fingers inside, humming in that absentminded way you did. She thought you’d nuzzle into her ear, all lips and sharp teeth, asking if she’d sprayed your favorite hair mist of hers because she hoped you’d notice—she did—and take her, break her, whatever you wanted. 

You’d send her plummeting down towards a deeper hell (or was it higher, up to your majestic heaven?), already knowing everything that her body needed. Cairo imagined herself coming so helplessly around the stretch of your fingers, so high strung from nights of trying to mimic the press of your touch on her clit, unable to reach the same heights you sent her to. As she held back tears, eyes on the ceiling in reverence, feeling herself drip to the floor, you’d sigh as your mind wandered to other things already, carelessly running a hand down her back. 

Cairo gasped, dropping her nearly finished cigarette in favor of gripping the bed sheets. The white fabric wrinkled around her fingers, reminiscent of your shirt creasing as you’d rolled your sleeves up. This was something new you could show her, just how fast she could come and just how wet it made her. It was a marvel, feeling the fabric cling to her cunt, almost as good as how you’d feel. Resting her forehead in the crook of her elbow, she murmured your name over and over again, a little susurrus of a litany, so similar to your preoccupied hum. Panting, Cairo giggled in her bliss, soft and bright as Californian oranges clinging to rich leaves. You were dark enough to be tucked into the wrinkles in the soft pillow, dark enough for Cairo to love, as a journal loves a secret.

Sated, Cairo grabbed her phone and typed your name in. The results spilled out, and she scrolled, looking for all of the details in the background of your social media posts, curiously drunk on the year’s gap in your CV. Cairo noticed the perfect little circle where the cigarette had burned when she dropped it, and she brushed away the remnants. The gesture smeared the ash on the sheets.

—

Walking into your office with barely a knock, Cairo took in the familiar room of an academic, but with your unfamiliar knick knacks around the place. A lighter, a leather wallet, glasses and wired headphones. You didn’t look surprised as you glanced up from your laptop. Instead, you smiled. 

“Cairo, isn’t it?” 

A flush of pleasure shot straight into her—you remembered. She nodded. Your shelves were covered in books and stacks of reviews, the morning’s leftover cup of coffee sitting on one of the ledges. Did you smoke before, or after your coffee? The terrible, terrible want to replace the taste of smoke on your tongue with the taste of her gave Cairo just the confidence she needed. 

“What can I do for you?”

Cairo leaned over your desk, watching the way your eyes dropped to her burgundy lipstick. “Would you be able to help me on the Aristophanes reading?” She pushed her copy of The Clouds towards you. “I can’t seem to grasp it.” Your eyes met hers. “Of course.”

--

a/n cont'd: can you read my mind, i’ve been watching you�� there’s just something about you, baby… ♪ / hope you enjoyed @woewriting :)

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[classypauli]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

MASTERLIST

tara carpenter x fem!reader

summary: Tara thought out of all people she hates you the most, until she met her… and why the fuck does she follow every where you go?!

tags: enemies to lovers, flirting, drunk at party, y/n is an idiot, new girl, tara is jealous

word count: 2.2k

Late again but enjoy! Sorry for mistakes i´ll correct them later.

„Help me!“ you yelled into your mic as you gripped the console tightly.

„What? I can´t even see you!“

„You idiot I´m on the fucking ground right behind you!“ 

That was the routine for these past days, you and Ethan were playing, and something some of your or his friends joined to play with you. You were sure you lost a lot of nerves but it was also something you couldn´t say no to.

„Oh sorry!“ you heard Ethan as you watched as his character turned around and crunching beside you to pick you up. Not even a second after you saw another player appear right behind him.

„Ethan!“

„What?“

„Turn around! Right behind you!“

„What?“

Just then the player started to shoot him from behind making him yell and run away from you leaving you right where you were. You tried to crawl as fast as you could behind something to cover you but it was for no use. Then you saw Ethan´s character fall on the ground in the same position as you were now making the enemy kill you both. You slammed your hand on the table almost breaking it.

„You idiot! Why did you leave me there? I was almost up!“

„He was shooting me from behind! What was I supposed to do?!“

„Argh! We lost our streak because of you!“

„Me?! You were the one that was on the ground! I was trying to help!“

It was like this almost every game. Just the both of you screaming at each other throwing the blame on one another. But at the end of the day, you say happy goodbye like nothing happened. The loud banging on the wall from the other side was like a message for you to stop and go to sleep.

-

You were sitting in the back of the class with sweaty palms and your knees up and down. The heart inside your chest kept racing and you were sure your beat rate was at its maximum.

„Could you stop already? You are making this much worse than it is!“ Tara hissed at you from beside you with clenched teeth. You were so nervous. It was the day of your presentation when everyone from the class went in front of the board and presented their topic.

You always hated this kind of stuff and you aren´t ashamed of telling the truth. You may seem confident or nonchalant most of the time but this was something that was hard to change.

„Sorry.“ You whispered as you put your hand on your knee to stop the bouncing. Tara´s eyes softened a little as she looked at your side profile. You were trying too hard to stay calm using every technique that came to your mind like deep breathing or trying to remember something funny or the fact that this was something everyone was going through and you are not alone.

Not long after you got it done and positive to say your professor was also happy about your work giving you marks belonging to the work done.

„I´m so glad we´ve after it.“ Chad breathed out air from his lungs. You were sitting in a cafeteria with your friends.

„Exactly! I was so nervous about it and that´s not even in my element!“ Mindy said as she picked up the croissant from her plate to her mouth.

„I´m sure you weren´t nervous as Y/N.“ Tara said with a smirk on her lips. You turned your face to her being a little offended by her words.

„I was not that nervous!“ you yelled at her as if you were trying to convince them. Or maybe yourself.

„You were like I thought you would pee yourself in any second.“ She added turning away from you to eat her food. You stomped on her foot hard making her yell in pain.

„Y/N!“ Mindy scolded you.

„You fucker!“ the young Carpenter turned to you with a mad expression ready to kill you. Oh, how much that calmed you down. You smiled at her which quickly fell into a pain expression as she kicked you right below your knee with all her strength.

You crunched into the table laying your forehead on it in pain. „You little rat I hate you so fucking much.“ You whispered with your eyes almost closed and your knees in both of your hands.

Just when you wanted to say something more you heard someone saying your name. With a confused expression, you turned to the side seeing the girl from the shop.

She was walking with a group of friends which kept walking as she stopped to talk to you.

„Hey, how are you?“ she asked with a gentle voice looking into your eyes. Not long after you met at the shop you got the message that someone wanted to follow you on your Instagram. You didn´t want to know how she found you, not like it was important either. You just didn´t expect that.

„Oh hi.“ You looked up at her from your spot. You could tell your friend were looking at the both of you with different expressions on their faces. Everyone was surprised at the interaction, only Ethan looked like he wasn´t. „I´m good, how are you?“

Chad cracked a little biting his lower lip at you. You´ve never talked to them with that sweet voice you were using now.

„I´m great! Sorry I didn´t wanna bother you I just wanted to say hi.“ She quickly explained herself feeling guilty for ruining the fun you had with your friends.

„Oh no, don´t worry, really. It´s all right.“ You smiled at her noticing that her friends stopped a couple of feet away from you looking at her with smiles and giggles. „Your friends are waiting for you. Not like I want you to go away! No! I mean you can stay as long as you want you know-“

She giggled at you as you were trying to explain yourself. „It´s fine Y/N like I said, I just wanted to stop by. I hope you have a good day.“ She then turned around and speed-walked to her friends.

Your eyes were still on her looking at her fading body into distance. Just then you were cut by a loud laughing. You rolled your eyes knowing exactly who it was.

Almost all of your friends were holding their stomachs from the laugh. Chad pressed his hands together and brought them up into his chest looking up in a dreamy way. „Oh, you can stay as long as you want! Please don´t go away!“ he said in a high high-pitched voice trying to make fun of you.

Your jaw tensed at him as you were growing more angry with each second. „I don´t  sound like that!“

„But you did!“ they laughed. „I´ve never heard that voice Y/N oh my you must like this girl!“

The vein on your forehead started to form as you stared at your friends in anger. „I don't like her!“

Ethan was quietly sitting beside you looking at you. „I like her for you.“ He said softly. That made everyone silent looking at him.

„And since when do you know her?“ Mindy asked him.

„Oh I and Y/N already talked about her, right buddy?“ he said not meaning to be a tease. Chad only laughed harder making you even more mad. Ethan quickly looked at him and at you again. „Sorry Y/N! I didn´t want to make you mad.“

„It´s fine Ethan.“

„Oh but I´m a little offended how come Ethan knows already about her but we do not?“

You just breathed out and shook your head at them not having any more energy. You just picked up your food slowly taking a bite.

Tara was quiet like she was trying to process what just happened. What the fuck did that girl see in you? It was more than obvious that she liked you or at least that she was interested. You were annoying and stupid, you were always playing games and never studying. Why would she even stumble across you?

She looked at your calm expression and at the little red on your cheeks. That only made her more angry.

-

It was Friday and you were currently at someone´s birthday party. You got yourself a little more drunk than usual but that doesn´t mean you don´t know where the drinking barrier is. You danced and drank and laughed you were happy enjoying yourself with your friends.

You and Chad were competing who would drink more shots which was stopped by Mindy. You danced with Ethan who was a lot more loose than he normally is. You knew tomorrow you would probably hate yourself and Chad too but that was the problem of future Y/N.

You went into the kitchen trying to find something more to drink. Luckily for you, no one was in there at that time. You were opening cabinet after cabinet when you came by some luxurious-looking alcohol and champagne.

You wanted to grab one which was hidden behind only for you to stumble yourself from the chair making you fall on the ground.

There was a loud sound of the glass breaking and your body falling onto the ground. „Ouch.“ you let out softly.

„What the hell are you doing?“ Tara ran to your drunk ass laying on the ground trying to get up.

„Uhm I fell.“

„I can see you imbecile I asked what the fuck were you doing? Come on get up.“ She tried to get you up by your hands but saw that you were cut on your right arm. You were bleeding and you didn´t even notice that. Just when you saw Tara´s face you saw in what state was your arm.

„Oh my God Y/N! You´ve got glass in your hand I can see that!“

„Oh yeah? I can feel that!“

 It was a pretty deep cut but nothing serious. Tara quickly ran to the sink and grabbed some tissues with scissors and alcohol.

„What the hell are you doing?“ you were crawling away from her fearing what that girl had in mind.

„I wanna help you stop running away!“ she was trying to get to you. Tara grabbed you by your good arm. „Stop moving you idiot!“

„I don´t wanna die!“ you cried as you were moving around like some insect. If someone walked into the room and saw the scene they would probably think that she is trying to kill you.

„Stop yelling!“ she put the bottle of alcohol beside you after getting it on the tissue softly cleaning your wound. You hissed at the feeling but didn´t move. Tara was taking the glass away crunching on the floor beside you.

She looked up at your face only for her to see that you were now drinking the alcohol she bought to clean your wound.

„Y/N! What the fuck!“ Tara yelled grabbing the bottle and pulling it away from your mouth. „Are you out of your fucking mind?“

You giggled gently at her drunk. She was looking at you as if you were serious. She couldn´t help but crack a little at your behavior. You were an idiot.

After your giggles, you were just quietly sitting there looking at the girl in front of you.

„Your right dimple is deeper than the left one.“

Tara´s breathing stopped for a moment. Suddenly her vision was worse and her heart fell into her stomach.

„What did you say?“ she asked gently with her soft big eyes looking at yours.

„Everytime you smile your right dimple is more visible.“

Tara´s eyes widen at your words looking down at you. She didn´t know how much time had passed since you were sitting there but to young Carpenter, it was like a second. A second before someone stepped into the kitchen breaking off the tension that was created in the room.

„Oh my God Y/N! What happened?“

It was the girl again. She ran in your direction trying to find out what happened. Tara´s nerves were on top all of a sudden.

„I´m fine don´t worry.“ You somehow said with your eyes barely open. You slowly stood up with her help making her hold tight onto your arm.

„I´m taking you to mine you can´t go home all by yourself like this!“

Tara looked at the girl with a sparky smile. „Don´t worry about that Y/N and I live beside each other I’ll take  care of that.“

The girl looked at Tara and her face dropped. It was clear that she wasn´t a fan of her but that didn´t matter to her.

„Okay, I see.“ She looked up at you talking your cheeks in her hands making you look at her. „Take care, I´ll text you tomorrow.“ She then got on her tippy toes and kissed your cheek. Tara´s hands formed into fists and her jaw tensed. After that, she walked away leaving you both alone, not before looking at both of you one last time. Tara brushed the skin on your face right where that girl kissed you and took your hand into her and started to walk away from the party.

Yeah, like hell she will text you.

[padmaddean]

Cairo Sweet & Winnie Black Miller's Girl (2024)

[dollarbils]

i’ll trade you | c.s.

cairo sweet x fem!reader

context. you ask a pretty girl for a cigarette, she asks for something in return.

warnings. smoking, tobacco usage, flirting.

masterlist

you debated going up to her, tapping her on the shoulder to ask for a cigarette. that was before she turned around, a cloud of smoke escaping her slightly reddened lips. she was fucking gorgeous. and it rendered her extremely intimidating. the craving however, wasn’t even slightly bearable when the familiar scent drifted to where you were standing.

“i genuinely hate to ask, but could i get a cigarette?” your heart was beating impossibly fast, as you planted your feet in front of the brunette. her eyebrows raised slightly before she scanned your body, and returned to stare you in the eyes.

“i’ll trade you.” she said simply, before bringing the cigarette back up to her lips. she didn’t bother elaborating, she wanted you to ask.

“what do you want?” you were hesitant in asking the question, not quite sure which way it would go.

“your number.” her lips pulled up to the side as she took another hit from her cigarette, the cool winter air accentuating the amount of smoke she exhaled.

“my phone number?” you were slightly taken aback. not only was she interested in girls, she was interested in you.

“no, i want your social security number in exchange for a cigarette.” she replied sarcastically, choked laughter as she spoke.

“sorry it just wasn’t expected, i thought you’d just say no and tell me to fuck off.” her smile widened as she reached for her bag, presumably to pull out her pack of cigarettes.

“i’m sorry, did you want me to?” she teased, now holding the pack in her hands as your eyes drifted towards it.

“no? of course not.” she raised an eyebrow as you made no move to give her your number.

“well? what’s it gonna be?” her finger tapped the pack in her hand as she took the last drag of her own cigarette before putting it out.

“wait you’re serious?” she chuckled at the question.

“dead serious. i saw you looking at me from your spot underneath the tree, so what are you waiting for?” she’d clocked you before you’d even come over.

“yeah i’ll put it into your phone.” you put your palm out in front of her as she placed her unlocked phone in your hand.

“great.” she opened her pack and pulled out a cigarette before closing it and returning it to her bag.

“thanks a ton.” she bit her lip before handing it to you. then she watched you walk away in search for your lighter before you stopped and realised you’d have to back and ask her for one.

“fuck i’m sorry, could i borrow a lighter?” she grinned before shuffling her hands inside her jacket pocket before they went still and she was grasping her lighted.

“i’ll trade you.” she repeated.

“this time it’s my social security number you want?” you joked and she laughed softly.

“guarantee that you’ll go out with me.” there was a hint of arrogance in her voice that you failed to miss, but nevertheless you found yourself agreeing.

“okay, i’ll go out with you..”

“cairo.” she finished for you.

“cairo, i’ll go out with you cairo.” you cupped your hands around the cigarette as she lit it for you.

“perfect, i’ll look forward to it.” she shoved the lighter in her pocket and walked away.

[ortegahaze]

love at first fight

pairing: Cairo Sweet x gn!reader

synopsis: you meet Cairo in a dive bar, and sparks fly at first sight. Over time, the two of you share an intense connection, but her fear of getting too close leads to a fight that pushes you both to the edge. When she storms out, you chase after her, realizing just how deeply you need her.

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol, fluff, angst, fear of abandonment, family issues. i think that’s it.

a/n: i watched miller’s girl, and my spotify shuffled into LANY’s love at first fight, so that’s what you’ll get! bear with me on my first attempt at writing something!

word count: 5,1k

—

You push open the creaky door to a crowded dive bar on the Lower East Side, the warm, sticky air washing over you as you step inside. It’s one of those dim, unassuming places where the music is just a bit too loud, and the lights are almost nonexistent—perfect for people looking to get lost, even if only for a night.

Navigating through bodies and laughter, you head to the bar, scanning the room for the friends who insisted you needed a night out. You finally spot them, greet everyone, and order a drink, feeling the thump of the bass in your chest as you settle into the rhythm of the place.

After a few rounds, as conversations start to blur, you feel the need for some fresh air—and maybe a trip to the bathroom. You follow a dimly lit hallway and join a small line in front of the restroom. That’s when you see her.

She’s leaning against the wall, eyes fixed on her phone, with a slightly furrowed brow that only adds to her effortless cool. You notice her right away—her dark hair falling just below her shoulders, curtain bangs framing her striking, intense features. You watch as she raises her head, eyes flickering with curiosity before they lock onto yours.

For a moment, everything else fades, and it’s just the two of you, held in place by a magnetic pull neither of you quite understands. She studies you, her lips curving into a faint, intrigued smile. Her gaze is steady, deliberate, like she’s sizing you up, and you can’t help but feel a surge of excitement under her scrutiny.

“You waiting on the bathroom too?” you ask, nodding toward the closed door, trying to initiate some sort of conversation.

She tucks her phone into her pocket, crossing her arms as she leans in a little closer, deciding to gift you with her full attention. “I thought about cutting the line,” she replies, her voice low, with a hint of mischief. “But I’m trying to behave tonight.”

You chuckle, noting the playful gleam in her dark brown eyes. “Is that something you have to work on?” She tilts her head, considering you with a smile that makes your pulse quicken. “Depends on who’s asking. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You tell her, feeling strangely nervous, but the nerves melt away as she repeats it softly, as if testing it out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Cairo.”

“Cairo,” you say, letting the name roll off your tongue. “That’s a unique name. I like it.”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “It’s grown on me. So, what brings you here?”

You laugh at her directness. “Oh, you know, just another Thursday night. Friends dragged me out of the house and into trouble.”

Her smile widens, and she leans in a little closer. “I like that. I don’t usually come to places like this, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

The bathroom line moves, but you both stay put, caught up in your conversation. There’s a palpable energy between you, sparking with each shared glance and laugh. She’s bold, with a way of looking at you that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room, even though the bar is packed.

Cairo glances around, then turns her attention back to you, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Alright, so tell me something interesting about yourself,” she says, her gaze unwavering.

You think for a moment, trying to come up with something that might catch her attention. “I once accidentally ended up in a closed museum after hours,” you say, grinning. “Security found me taking selfies with the dinosaur exhibit.”

She lets out a laugh, her eyes lighting up. “Okay, that’s a good one. Remind me not to follow you into restricted areas.”

“Noted,” you reply, feeling warmth spread through your chest at the sound of her laughter.

The dark-haired girl steps closer, and you feel the energy between you growing, a spark that neither of you seems interested in ignoring. Talking about everything and nothing, words flow easily, punctuated by shared glances that linger just a little too long. Cairo asks you questions that dig deeper than typical small talk, and you get the sense that she’s genuinely interested in what you have to say.

Someone clears their throat impatiently behind you, reminding you of the line you’ve barely moved through, but Cairo only glances over her shoulder before looking back at you with a shrug. “Guess we’re holding things up,” she says, though she doesn’t make any move to step aside.

“Seems like it,” you say, matching her casual tone. “Not sure I’m ready to leave, though.”

“Good,” she replies, a playful gleam in her eyes. “Then let’s get out of here.”

You follow her out of the hallway and back into the main part of the bar, where the music is even louder and the lights even dimmer. She slips her hand into yours, leading you to the small dance floor near the center of the room.

The moment feels surreal, like something out of a dream, but you let yourself get lost in it, letting the music pulse around you as you move together, the crowd pressing in on all sides. You’re not sure how long you stay like that, moving in sync, bodies close and breaths mingling.

Cairo’s hands find their way to your shoulders, pulling you closer, and when she leans in, her lips brush against yours in a kiss that sends a jolt of electricity through you. It’s intense, overwhelming, and you feel yourself melting into her touch, the world around you fading until it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

After a while, you both break apart, breathless and grinning. She leads you to a quieter corner, where you spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and stealing kisses. The hours slip by, and before you know it, the bar is starting to close up, your friends nowhere in sight.

As the night winds down, you walk with her outside to wait for her roommate, the cool air a welcome change from the heat of the bar. She turns to you, that familiar spark in her eyes, and you can’t help but smile, already wondering when you’ll see her again.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. “Give me your phone.”

You chuckle, pulling out your phone and handing it to her unlocked. “Better late than never.”

She takes it, typing her number in with a quick, practiced ease, then hands it back to you. “Don’t disappear on me,” she says, a playful smirk on her lips. “I’m not done yet.”

Watching her close the distance with a quick peck on your lips, her arms resting on your neck, nails grazing the back of it. “Send me a text, and maybe we’ll continue this somewhere quieter.” She detaches herself from you, glancing back once with a smile that makes your heart race as she heads to her roommate’s car.

You look down at your phone, where her number is saved under the name “Cai.” You’re smiling as you head home, already looking forward to whatever comes next.

—

The days turn into weeks, and before you know it, you and Cairo have fallen into a rhythm that feels almost effortless. You find yourself thinking about her constantly—her quick wit, her sharp observations, and the way she makes even the most mundane moments feel alive with possibility.

It doesn’t take long for Cairo to start spending more time at your place. Her books are scattered around the apartment, and some of her clothes now occupy a corner of your dresser. One morning, you notice her toothbrush beside yours on the sink—a small, almost trivial thing, but it feels monumental, a sign that the two of you are sharing something real. Most mornings, you make coffee together, often in a rush as you both scramble to make it to class on time. You’re studying music education at NYU, and Cairo, as you quickly discover, is majoring in English Literature at Columbia.

You’re fascinated by her mind, by the way she sees the world and how she captures those feelings with words. Sometimes, she reads her writings to you, her voice soft and steady, and you find yourself captivated, hanging on every word. There’s a vulnerability in her poems, a rawness that she doesn’t always show in everyday moments, and it makes you feel like you’re glimpsing pieces of her that few others get to see.

One evening, you’re lying on your bed, a book in her hands as she rests her head on your chest, the two of you wrapped up in a comfortable silence. She’s engrossed in a collection of poems by Sylvia Plath, and you watch her as she reads, the way her brow furrows slightly whenever she comes across a line that resonates with her. After a moment, she catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips.

“Caught you staring,” she teases, nudging you gently with her elbow.

You chuckle, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from her face. “Can you blame me? You’re kind of fascinating.”

She smirks, setting the book down and propping herself up on her elbow. “You’re just saying that because you don’t understand most of these.”

“Oh, is that so?” you reply, raising an eyebrow. “For the record, I appreciate literature. I just happen to be more of a music person.”

She grins, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Alright, Music Person, what’s the last good book you actually read?”

You hesitate, trying to come up with an answer, but she doesn’t wait. Instead, she grabs a notebook from her bag, flipping it open to a page covered in her neat, slanted handwriting.

“Here, let me educate you,” she says, settling back down beside you as she begins to read some of her notes. Her voice is soft, but there’s a power in her words, an energy that draws you in. She speaks with a passion that makes you feel as if you’re experiencing the books through her eyes, sharing in the emotions that each story brings to life.

When she finishes, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “You’re incredible,” you say, barely above a whisper. “I could listen to you read all day.”

A faint blush rises to her cheeks, and she ducks her head, smiling. “Yeah, well, it’s just words,” she mumbles, closing the notebook and tucking it back into her bag. But you can see the pleased expression in her eyes, and it makes you want to know her even more.

On another night, the two of you find yourselves walking along the riverfront, the cool night air wrapping around you as you talk about your lives, your dreams, the things that keep you up at night. You tell her about your goal of becoming a music teacher, how you’ve always felt that music could be a way to connect with others, to make a difference. She listens intently, her gaze never leaving yours, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, grateful to have someone who truly cares about your passions.

“Why music education?” she asks, genuine curiosity in her voice. “You could do anything with your talent. Why teaching?”

You smile, looking out at the shimmering river as you gather your thoughts. “Because I want to give others what music gave me—a place to feel understood, to feel like they belong. I guess I just want to share that feeling with someone else.”

She nods, her expression thoughtful. “I get that. Writing’s like that for me. I can put all these thoughts and feelings down on paper and make sense of them, even when everything else feels like a mess. It’s like finding pieces of myself in the words, you know?”

“Yeah...” Feeling a rush of affection for her. She’s so open, so unguarded in moments like this, and you feel grateful to witness it. For all her confidence and sharp edges, Cairo has a tenderness about her that draws you in, a depth that makes you want to know everything about her.

There are still times, though, when you can sense her pulling back, as if she’s afraid of letting herself get too close. You see it in the way she’ll suddenly grow quiet when you talk about your childhood, her gaze turning distant. You realize that for all her brilliance, Cairo is used to keeping people at arm’s length, holding them just far enough away to keep herself safe.

Her self-sabotaging habits linger, small tells that make it clear that trust doesn’t come easily for her.

One evening, as you lie together on your bed, she turns to you, a serious expression on her face. “So, what happens when we graduate? What if this… I mean, we’re both on different paths. What if you end up teaching in another city, and I’m still here?”

You take her hand, gently tracing circles on the back of it. “We’ll figure it out when we get there. But right now, I’m here with you. I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”

She nods, but you can see the uncertainty in her eyes, a flicker of doubt she can’t quite hide. You understand; she’s had people come and go, and part of her probably believes that you will eventually, too. But you’re determined to prove her wrong, to show her that not everyone leaves. For the first time, you feel like you’ve found someone worth holding onto, and you’re not about to let her slip away.

In those moments when she lets you in, you see the side of her that’s kind, vulnerable, and deeply passionate. It’s a side that not everyone gets to see, and it only makes you fall for her harder.

The weeks pass, filled with nights spent talking, laughing, and sharing dreams and insecurities, building a connection that feels stronger with each passing day. Cairo challenges you, inspires you, and makes you feel alive in ways you hadn’t known before. And despite the little cracks, the insecurities, and the fears, you both hold onto something rare, something worth fighting for.

As you lie together, her head resting on your shoulder, you realize this is what you’ve been searching for—a connection that goes beyond words, a feeling that’s as exhilarating as it is terrifying. You’re falling for her, and deep down, you know you’re in it for the long haul, ready to face whatever comes next, as long as she’s by your side.

—

It’s been a couple of months since you and Cairo started officially dating, and things are going well. You’ve fallen into a comfortable rhythm together, and you find yourself feeling more at ease around her than you ever have with anyone else. Then, one night, you get a text from your parents—they’re in town for a couple of days and want to meet up for dinner.

Excited, you bring it up with Cairo, hoping she’ll join you. “So… my parents are in town. And they want to meet you,” you say, flashing her a warm smile as you lean over the counter where she’s flipping through one of her books.

Her reaction is almost immediate. She tenses, her fingers pausing on the page, and her gaze grows distant. “Oh,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “They want to meet me?”

“Yeah,” you reply, noting her sudden change in demeanor. “I mean, it’s just dinner. I figured it’d be nice for you to meet them. They’re great—they’d love you.”

She frowns slightly, closing her book with a sigh. “I don’t know. Meeting parents is… kind of a big deal. It just… feels a little too… serious.”

You reach over, gently taking her hand. “Hey, it’s just dinner. We don’t have to stay long, and you don’t have to do or say anything special. I just want you to meet the people who mean a lot to me.”

She hesitates, looking torn, and you can sense her reluctance. You know—or at least assume—that she has a complicated relationship with her own family, since she never shares anything about them, but you hope that she’ll agree, if only to understand a little more about your life. Finally, she lets out a breath and gives a small nod. “Alright. I’ll go.”

The dinner starts off smoothly enough. Your parents are warm and welcoming, clearly eager to get to know the special girl who’s making you happy. They ask her questions about her studies at Columbia, about her dream to become an author, and at first, she responds politely, if a bit reserved. But as the conversation shifts to family, you notice Cairo’s demeanor start to change.

“So, Cairo,” your mom says, smiling kindly. “Do you see your family often? Are they from around here?”

Cairo’s shoulders tense, and she forces a smile. “Not really,” she replies, a slight edge to her tone. “They’re pretty much always traveling. I grew up mostly on my own.”

Your parents exchange a quick glance, and your dad offers a sympathetic smile. “That must’ve been hard. You’re very independent, then.”

“Guess I had no other choice,” Cairo replies, and the words hang heavily in the air. She quickly takes a sip of her water, avoiding further eye contact.

Sensing the tension, you try to shift the conversation, hoping to steer things back into safer territory. But the rest of the dinner feels strained, and you can tell Cairo’s growing increasingly uncomfortable. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you wrap things up, saying your goodbyes to your parents and walking Cairo back to your apartment.

Heading back to your apartment, you can feel the tension building, a heavy silence settling between you that only seems to grow with each passing block. She has been silent since you left the restaurant, and as you step inside, she slips off her coat and heads straight to the window, arms crossed, her body tense as she stares out at the city, the light from the street lamps casting shadows across her face.

You close the door, taking a deep breath as you try to gather your thoughts.

“Cai,” you say softly, “babe, what’s going on? You’ve barely said a word since dinner.”

She doesn’t turn around. Instead, she lets out a bitter laugh, her shoulders stiffening. “Your parents were just… so perfect,” she says, her voice tight. “The way they talked about family, about you. It’s like this little fairytale that I can’t be a part of.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you step closer, trying to understand. “They weren’t trying to make you feel that way. They were just… they were just being themselves. They were trying to get to know you.”

Cairo spins around, her eyes blazing, the moonlight filtering through the window and casting shadows across her face. “But don’t you get it?” she snaps. “I didn’t have that. I didn’t grow up with parents who actually cared. Mine were never around, always off in some other part of the world, leaving me to figure things out on my own. I had empty rooms and empty promises. That’s my reality.”

You reach out, hoping to bridge the distance between you, but she steps back, her fists clenched at her sides. “Cairo, I know you’ve been through a lot. But I’m here now. I want to share my life with you—everything. I want you to feel like you’re not alone anymore.”

She shakes her head, her gaze fierce and defiant. “That’s just it, though. You’re so desperate to bring me into this perfect world of yours. But that’s not who I am, and it’s not who I’ll ever be. I’m not some puzzle piece you can just fit into your life. I don’t want to be fixed.”

“I don’t want to fix you!” you say, your voice rising in frustration. “I just want to be with you, to understand you. I want to know the real you, Cairo, all of you. But you keep pushing me away, like you’re afraid of letting me in.”

She scoffs, a flash of anger in her eyes, and you can see her jaw clench, her expression hardening as she glares at you. “Afraid? You don’t know the first thing about fear. You’ve never had to look at everyone around you and wonder how long they’re going to stick around. People leave, okay? They always do. And I’d rather end it now than wait around for you to realize I’m not worth it.”

Her words sting, and you feel a surge of desperation, a need to reach her, to break through the wall she’s built around herself. “Why are you so determined to sabotage this? To ruin something that could be good?”

She laughs, a sharp, bitter sound, her eyes filled with a mix of pain and anger. “Because that’s what I know. This is how I survive, alright? By keeping people at a distance. It’s better to feel nothing than to risk everything and end up with nothing.”

Your chest tightens, and you feel the anger bubbling up inside you, the frustration spilling over as you step closer, looking her in the eyes. “You think I’m going to leave, don’t you? You think I’m just like everyone else, ready to walk away the second things get hard. But that’s not who I am, Cairo. I’m here because I want to be, because I care about you. But you’re making it impossible when you keep shutting me out.”

The brunette clenches her jaw, her eyes blazing with an intensity that takes your breath away, and for a moment, the only sound between you is the faint hum of the city beyond the window.

The moonlight catches in her gaze, and you see the fire there, a fierce, untamed energy that both draws you in and scares you. She’s like a storm, unpredictable and powerful, and you’re caught in its path. She turns away, her shoulders heaving as she takes a shaky breath.

“This… this isn’t going to work,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m not what you need, and I can’t be what you want me to be.”

You reach out, desperation filling your voice as you try to stop her. “Cairo, don’t say that. I don’t need you to be anything other than yourself. I just need you here, with me.”

Practically interrupting you, she gives her back to you and heads for the door. She turns, looking at you one last time, and for a brief moment, you see a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. But then she shakes her head, her expression hardening once more. “I can’t do this,” she says, her voice trembling as she opens the door and storms out into the night, without even getting her coat.

The door closes behind her, leaving you standing there, alone, the silence pressing in around you like a weight. You feel the hollow ache in your chest, the pain of words left unsaid, and you sink down onto the couch, replaying the fight in your mind. You remember the way the moonlight caught in her eyes, the fire in her gaze as she looked at you, and you feel a surge of regret, a desperate need to chase after her, to tell her that you’re not giving up that easily.

You grab your coat—and hers and head out. Sprinting down the stairs, feeling each step rattle beneath you as you grip the railing, your breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. You’d hit the elevator button a dozen times, but it never came, leaving you with no choice but to take the stairs, every floor dragging you further into a spiral of regret and desperation.

As you descend, something inside you crystallizes—a single, undeniable truth that settles deep in your chest. Cairo has put up walls, pushed you away, tried to convince herself and you that she isn’t meant for this—but you know better. You know her and you’re not ready to let her go. Not now, not ever.

And it hits you all at once. You don’t care if the train to her dormitory isn’t running. You’ll keep running until you catch her.

It’s been two months and twenty-five days since that night at the bar, since you’d both shared a knowing smile that set off sparks. You’ve shared so many moments together since then—small, precious details that mean more than you could have imagined. And it’s in this moment, barreling down the last flight of stairs, that you realize you’ve never fought for anyone like this before. You’ve never felt so sure about anyone before.

You hit the last step and burst through the door, the cold air hitting you like a shock as you scan the street, your heart pounding. You spot her down the block, her arms wrapped tightly around her, shoulders hunched as if she’s trying to disappear into the shadows. You take off running, your voice breaking through the silence of the night as you approached.

“Cairo!”

She stops, and for a moment, you’re both suspended there, the world around you quiet and still. She doesn’t turn, but you can tell from the way she holds herself, the slight tremor in her shoulders, that she’s struggling. You catch up to her, breathless, reaching out to gently touch her arm, handing her the coat. She pulls away, just slightly, but getting the piece of clothing and wearing it, still standing close enough to let you know that she’s listening.

“Please,” you say, voice barely more than a whisper. “Don’t go. Not like this.”

She doesn’t respond right away, and you can see her clenching her jaw, the moonlight casting shadows across her face, illuminating the fierce, guarded expression in her eyes. “Why did you follow me?” she asks, her tone filled with a mix of anger and something else—something raw and wounded.

You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “Because I can’t just let you walk away. I can’t pretend that this fight didn’t happen, and I can’t pretend that I don’t care. Cairo, I’ve never fought with anyone like this before. And maybe that’s because I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”

Her eyes flicker, and you can see the conflict warring within her, the tension in her shoulders as she struggles to hold herself together. “You don’t understand,” she says, her voice trembling. “I’m not… I’m not good at this. I don’t know how to be the person you want me to be.”

“I’m not asking you to be anyone but yourself,” you reply, stepping closer. “I don’t need perfection. I need you—the real you. The one who’s scared and fierce and so damn beautiful that I can’t think straight when I’m around you.”

She looks down, her fingers twisting together as she takes a shaky breath. “I’ve never let anyone this close,” she whispers. “I don’t know how to let someone stay.”

“You never really know someone until you see the other side of them,” you say softly, the realization settling deep inside you. “I didn’t know you were the one until tonight, until we almost lost this. But now I know, and I’m not letting you go.”

Her gaze finally lifts, meeting yours, and you see the tears shining in her eyes, the vulnerability she’s so carefully hidden beneath the anger and sarcasm. Slowly, she reaches out, her fingers brushing against yours as if she’s afraid that you might disappear.

“I’m afraid,” she admits, her voice breaking. “Afraid that if I let you in, you’ll see all the things I’ve tried to bury, and you’ll decide I’m not worth the effort.”

You take her hand, holding it tightly, grounding her in the moment. “Cairo, I’ve already seen them. And I’m still here, aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere.” She lets out a shaky breath, a tear slipping down her cheek as she looks up at you, her expression softening, the fire in her eyes replaced by something warmer, something hopeful.

“I don’t know if I can promise that I won’t push you away again,” she says, her voice barely more than a whisper. “But I… I want to try. I want this. I want you.”

A surge of relief washes over you, and without thinking, you pull her into your arms, holding her close as she wraps her arms around your waist, clinging to you as if you’re the only thing keeping her grounded. You can feel her heart racing against yours, the warmth of her breath against your neck, and for the first time, you feel a sense of peace, a quiet certainty that you’re both exactly where you’re meant to be.

As you pull back, you look into her eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as you finally let the words spill out. “I love you, Cairo Sweet. I don’t need things to be perfect. I just need you, with all your flaws and fire. Because you’re the only one I want, and I’m ready to fight for this, as long as it takes.”

She stares at you, her eyes wide, and then she lets out a breath, a small, almost incredulous smile breaking through her tears. “I love you too,” she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet, unguarded honesty that makes your heart swell. “Even if I’m still a little scared… I love you.”

You pull her close again, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and for a moment, the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped up in each other. You can feel the weight of the past slipping away, replaced by a warmth that fills every corner of your heart, a quiet promise of all the things yet to come.

Finally, you step back, still holding her hand as you start walking together, side by side. It’s been two months and twenty-five days, but you know without a doubt that her toothbrush is here to stay, and so is she. You both share a quiet smile, knowing that while the road ahead won’t be easy, it’s one you’re ready to face together.

And as you walk into the night, you feel a sense of contentment settle over you, a certainty that some things are worth fighting for, worth running after.

Because love isn’t always about perfect moments—it’s about the fights, the struggles, and the quiet, steady resolve to hold on, even when it’s hard.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Keep Your Eyes on Me

tara carpenter x female reader

part i | part ii

summary: You’ve quickly become close with all of Tara’s friends, but her trust issues keep her at a distance from you. But maybe you're able to chip away at her defenses...

word count: 2.2k

————

"I don't get why no one else is suspicious of her!" Tara exclaims looking around at everyone with a frustrated expression. "Mindy? You're literally suspicious of every living thing. And Sam what the fuck, you don't let me leave the house unless I'm carrying a cross bow or something," she exaggerates rolling her eyes.

"Why are we speaking about me like I'm not here?" You whisper to Chad next to you while ripping your string cheese into strands. He laughs but so does everyone else, seems like your whisper wasn't as quiet as you thought.

Tara groans frustrated and heads up the stairs, leaving her friends and you in the living room in an awkward silence.

Sam was the first to break it, "She'll come around, it's just been hard on her you know? Trusting new people and all that fun stuff."

You give her a nod completely understanding the root of Tara's issues with you, it wasn't personal but that didn't mean her distrust in you didn't sting. Especially considering it's been four months since you met the group.

"I am curious though," you speak, "She's not wrong Mindy, you're sus of everyone. And Sam why do you trust me too?"

"Well you met my brother playing pickle ball," the twin speaks. "Pickle ball doesn't really strike me as a psychopathic killer activity," she laughs.

"Neither does string cheese. Can you imagine Ghostface stringing their cheese and eating it?" Sam adds with a laugh.

You don't know whether to be relieved or offended that your habits don't indicate you to be a killer. But you're grateful that the rest of the group clicked with you quickly after Chad introduced you to them.

The core four minus Tara sometimes wanted to smack the girl across the head for being so oblivious and blind to you. Before you met the group Chad being the yapper that he is, explained all that happened in the past year and a half, so you were fairly well equipped with knowledge on how to navigate a friendship with everyone.

Everyone also noticed how attentive you were to Tara especially.  You didn't know what it was but you immediately developed a soft spot for the girl when Chad told you all she went through. Meeting her for the first time you instinctively felt the need to protect her but that's been quite hard with her negative feelings towards you, but that doesn't mean you don't try.

————

Sam eventually goes up to Tara's room once everyone leaves and decides to put an end to this.  The younger Carpenter looks at her sister from her bed when the door is opened at a speed where its hinges could fly off.

"Jesus Sam, why are we trying to break my door."

"What the hell are you doing Tara?" Sam gets to the point ignoring the question.

"What are you talking about?"

"Y/n."

"Ughhhhhh!" She turns around face planting into her pillow with a groan, hating the topic of you.

"It's been four months and you haven't once given the poor girl the benefit of the doubt." The sister says softly. "I don't know why you're so keen on hating her, it's like you want her to be Ghostface just so you can prove a point."

Tara turns around to respond, clearly annoyed.  "Because it's so clear she doesn't have good intentions!  I don't get you either sis, you want me to be cautious of people, but it's a problem when its Y/n?"

Sam sighs moving to sit on the foot of the bed, "Tara, do you not see how much that girl cares about you?"

Tara is silent and looks down at her fiddling hands not knowing what to say.  She does know how much you care and she hates it.

All those times you would come over to her place with the excuse of "Mindy sent me to grab something" but you always stayed until Sam got home from work, just so she wouldn't have to be alone.

"Clearly you do realize how much she cares for you," Sam says taking notice of her sister's silence and demeanor.

Tara turns red recalling how you would always be attentive to the leg that Ghostface broke a year ago.  You would always position yourself so she'd have access to the railing of a staircase. Offer to drive her places that may have seemed like too lengthy of a walk. Straggle behind the group when you realized she couldn't walk as fast as the others. And even deprive yourself of any physical activities that the group was participating in, so Tara wouldn't feel alone when she sat out.

"The damn girl literally sits in the kitchen whenever your hungry ass wants to cook something so you'd feel safer!" Sam suddenly says. "Even I hadn't thought about how being in the kitchen may give you PTSD."

Tara hadn't either. But now that she knew the reason why you'd sit with her in the kitchen, she realized that she did feel much more comfortable with you in there then the times you weren't. After all she did have her attack take place in the kitchen. The brown eyed girl shrunk into her sweater in shame as she recalled how poorly she treated you that day.

You leave the group who were playing an intense round of charades in the living room and decide to join Tara who was alone in the kitchen.

"Hey what are you making?" You smile.

She ignores you and continues to get the seasoning out for the mac and cheese she was making herself.

"Why aren't you playing with everyone else?" Tara suddenly spoke.

"Just wanted to see what you were up to."

"Well you can leave now," she rolls her eyes.

"I'm good, I'll stay here."

"You do know that you aren't winning any points with me by trying to talk to me and forcing proximity right?" Tara says with attitude. "I still don't trust you and if your goal isn't to kill me, but just to get in my pants, then I'm so sorry if I ever made you believe that you had a chance with me." she finishes sarcastically feigning a genuine apology.

"Not my goal," you reply keeping it short. You knew the girl would not receive anything you say, so you got up from the seat you initially took at the island in the kitchen and went to the dining table which was a little further away. Tara thought that you left since she didn't hear any comments from you anymore and her pride was too high for her to turn around and check if you were still there. She couldn't control the frown that was making its way onto her face. That was until she heard you scrolling through TikToks at the table and suddenly felt a sense of relief that couldn't be explained.

She would continue to finish her mac and cheese and tried to hide her laugh from any funny TikTok sounds she heard from your phone. And tried her hardest to shutdown her curiosity whenever she heard your laugh. As soon as she finished making her bowl, she walked out of the kitchen not even glancing at you. She was too stubborn to realize that she hadn't once thought about her attack due to your presence in the kitchen.

Until now.

"That's why I trust her Tara," Sam reveals. "She notices things that I don't. I can't always be watching out for you. You need to have a bunch who have your back, and for that to happen you need to take a chance on people here and there."

"Just think about it. Just separate your idea of Y/n being Ghostface and the possibility that she can betray you. And ask yourself what kind of person is left standing in front you. And is that the type of person you want to take a chance on."

————

Two weeks have gone by since the group last saw each other, and since then you and Tara were able to do a lot of individual thinking. Today the group decided that they went too long without seeing each other and they all decided to go to bar in downtown Manhattan.

Everyone decided to meet at the Carpenter residence, and Tara hated to admit it, but she was excited to see you, but she also felt nervous at the thought of being around you.

You were the last to arrive, and you greeted all your friends with a smile. Tara was waiting with a smile for you to greet her like you always do, but it never happened.

You ignored her.

"Is everyone ready to go?" You say looking at everyone except Tara.

The shorter girl had to compose herself before anyone realized that she was bothered by your lack of acknowledgement. She didn't know how to feel, what in the world were you doing?

The group made their way to the subway in one piece, and the two Carpenter sisters were walking side by side while everyone else was a little ahead.

"What the fuck is Y/n doing?" Tara whisper yells to her sister.

"What do you mean?" Sam replies playing stupid.

"She's not even looking at me?" Tara admits, not caring at how childish she sounds. "Why isn't she paying attention to me?"

Sam laughs at what two weeks of not seeing you and some deep reflection has done to her sister. "I mean what do you expect, it's not fair for her to keep trying for someone who doesn't make the same effort. She's probably done trying." Despite her words, Sam didn't believe a thing she was saying, she wondered what the intentions behind your actions were, but the Carpenter knew it was nothing ill.

Tara makes a hmpf sound, and tries to act unbothered by her sister's words. But the idea of you not having your gaze on her worries her more than she would like to admit.

Meanwhile 20 paces in front the sisters you and the twins are having a interesting conversation of your own.

"I can't do this anymore!" You whine looking at Mindy.

"Girl, stand the fuck up, it's been 20 minutes since we left the house, can't you see that it's already working?"

Chad chimes in, "Honestly I agree with my sister for once, she'll be yours by the end of today."

"W-whoa I don't want her to be mine or anything," you blush. "She's gone through a lot, I just need her to tolerate me, you know?"

Mindy rolls her eyes but smiles, happy that Tara has someone patient like you in her life. "Yeah yeah Y/l/n, now walk faster, it's not like she can run and catch up."

Your jaw drops while Chad drops dead in laughter.

Everyone manages to get onto the same subway cart in one piece, and you realized how much harder it was going to be acting like you can't notice Tara in here. The subway was packed from one end to the other. And you just so happened to be standing next to the only available seat.

You glance at Tara only to see her already looking at you and you immediately look away. Trying to get Mindy's attention you some how try your best to mime to her that you want Tara to sit in the free seat. Though of course Mindy's horrible charade skills translate into real life and she ends up sitting in the seat herself.

You face palm at your friend, and gave up on trying to look out for Tara. But in that very moment you notice a man getting far too close to the girl than you would like. It was a crowded cart so proximity was a given, but this seemed deliberate on the stranger's part.

Acting without thinking, you shove the guy as casually as you can to the side, not realizing that it meant you are now face to face with Tara. Just as you were about to break and speak to her, the subway doors open at your stop.

Tara hated that the doors interrupted the words you were going to say to her, but was grateful that it got her attention off of you before you could notice the blush on her cheeks.

As everyone got off the subway, you find yourself straggling behind the group out of habit. Just as you attempt to quicken your pace, you feel a tug on your sleeve.

Tara looks up at you with her big eyes, and you don't know what to do. This is the first time the girl has looked at you without rolling her eyes or looking away immediately.

"I'm sorry," she mutters.

You didn't know what to say, and continue walking with her by your side, so you don't fall too far behind from your friends. "It's okay," you mutter back looking straight ahead. 

You don't blame the girl for her behaviours.  Her traumas manifested into something difficult and she was making an attempt to be better. That's all that mattered to you. And maybe you were just too weak for the girl that you would let anything slide, but you were fine with that too. 

Tara smiles at you, happy that you weren't giving her a hard time. Happy that you understood what those two words she just told you encapsulates.

Suddenly she grabs you by your arm and holds it as you walk side by side.

Startled by her touch you look at her.

She smiles up at you, "It's easier for you to keep your eyes on me this way. No need for secret glances."

next chapter

[melrodrigo]

on your knees - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and Cairo really needs a date.

Word Count: idk i’ll fill it later

A/N: Hiii, here to feed my babies. Beware the last few parts because i did nawt proofread this. Will come back to edit it eventually! Thanks for all the love

“Come onnnnn, go on a date with me?” The girl in front of you practically begs, leaning forward till her whole body is pressed up to the front of your desk.

“Very funny.” You tell her, dryly.

Cairo’s been whining all week about not having a valentine’s date, but you don’t know why she specifically chooses to whine to you about it. After all, you had heard from around school she had a crush on Mr.Miller.

Your nose crinkles in disgust at the thought. Their coupling would be wild at best, and illegal (not to mention boring) at worst. It would be like seeing Einstein and an Instagram model holding hands. Except Mr. Miller wasn’t Einstein, he was Henry Miller. A spectacularly boring middle aged white guy.

To be completely transparent, you wouldn’t have minded going on a date with Cairo. Since, truth be told, you might’ve had a (tiny) crush on her.

You let your mind wander, think of what it would be like to take her out. The perfect date.

She loves nature, so it would be outdoors for sure. She doesn’t love extravagant gestures, you’d probably make her a little picnic. Your train of thought is cut short by the evil voice that tells you she could be fantasizing about a certain professor on your imaginary date.

Cairo breaks your daydreaming by falling to her knees beside your chair, hitting the carpet with a loud thud.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly grab her shoulders and try to push her up, but she refuses. For such a small girl, she sure had a lot of strength.

“What do you want me to do, beg? I can beg.” She tells you, still on her knees, dress pooling atop the rug.

You’re ashamed to admit the position has a bit of an effect on you. But who could blame you? Anyone would be flustered if Cairo Sweet was looking up at them like that…

It’s a little awe inspiring, seeing Cairo so, desperate. You’re not sure what’s brought this all on, but the cold cut Cairo you once knew has disappeared completely from the equation.

“Cairo.” You hiss, eyes darting between the door and the girl in front of you, praying that no one comes in.

“What’s it gonna take for you to go on a date with me?” She whines again, reaching for your shirt cuffs for something to hang onto.

There’s a swoosh and a quiet “oh!” that brings your attention back to the door.

Mr. Miller.

He stands somewhat awkwardly, smiling the type of smile that somehow indicates he’s unhappy. His eyes narrow when he notices it’s Cairo on the floor, his beloved teacher’s pet.

Okay, now you really need Cairo to get up. You support (force) her up and onto half of your chair, reprimanding her quietly as Miller walks past, coughing.

She straightens only slightly before settling once again on your lap, claiming it’s more comfortable and “a more suitable place for her to focus on her studies”.

“Why don’t you just sit at your desk, hm?” You point at the table, a single chair, smack dab in the middle of the classroom, in front of Mr.Miller. She was such a nerd.

She stares back at you blankly, big brown eyes making you a little distracted.

“That’s not mine.” She says, and you breathe out a laugh. The tension breaks. Her eyes crinkle lightly at the sound.

“You’re so weird.” You mumble, but allow her to sit further into your lap, no doubt much more comfy than her previous position.

“Can I sit here the rest of the class?” She asks, a little bashfully. You give her a pointed look, but nod nonetheless.

“Whatever you want.” You tell her, and she seems happy with that, taking her laptop and notebook out, ready to learn.

You see her lock eyes with Mr. Miller, who looks very confused. She smiles shyly and breaks the contact by nudging herself into the crook of your neck.

Oh.

Maybe all this was just to make Mr.Miller jealous.

You frown at the disturbing thought. Cairo’s breath tingles your skin as she tilts her head up so her lips are right beside your ear. The sensation makes you shiver, quite unwillingly.

“Now will you go on a date with me?” She whispers, huskily. Her confidence has returned, cocky like the Cairo you know so well.

You weigh your options.

You do really want her to get away from Mr.Miller…it might be a good time to slap some sense into the young girl.

“Alright.” You say curtly, already regretting your decision.

Cairo removes herself from your neck, smiling wide. For a second it quells your anxieties, her milky white pearls blinding.

She turns back as more students start filing in, ready yet again to learn.

You can’t focus for the duration of the class, mind wandering. Valentine’s day was tomorrow, what were you going to say? What were you going to do?

You stay quiet until class ends and all the way while you walk her back to her home. Cairo pokes at you a couple times to try and get you out of your head.

“Don’t forget flowers!” Cairo teasingly yells from ahead of you, already one foot into her house. You straighten up, dumbly answer with a “You got it!” and a face palm once she’s out of sight.

-

Okay. This was it. Last night was spent toiling on your bed, writing a script of what you’ll tell Cairo, prepared lillies- her favorite flowers, and a batch of the best things you could possibly find in your fridge.

Bread, butter, freshly sliced tomatoes, lettuce, and two slices of turkey left, you’re all ready and set.

The script is tucked away into the back pocket of your jeans, snug and cozy. It radiates warmth that makes you think it’d be terribly rude to ever take it out.

You sit down onto the grass, arms on both sides straightened, palms rubbing uncomfortably with the tablecloth.

“I shouldn’t be this nervous.” You remind yourself, but it does almost nothing to quell your worries.

You can’t keep lying to yourself, the truth swims in your head and you’re afraid it’s going to leave your lips the second Cairo arrives. You aren’t nervous about the letter, or anything to do with Mr.Miller. In fact, you’re nervous about the date.

A tiny part of you, no matter how much you try and shun it away, hopes that, maybe, just maybe, if Cairo liked this date, she might start liking you.

The minutes count themselves down too fast, and it’s almost time. You sit straighter, checking your shirt for any wrinkles.

You see a tiny figure make it’s way onto the lawn, and you have to bite back a smile when you realize it’s Cairo.

She looks almost shy as she walks up to you, twiddling with her thumbs.

It’s like a wave washes over you when you finally see her up close. She’s wearing a gray turtleneck, with a denim jacket over it, hair all nice and wavy. She looks unbelievably good.

It takes a second for you to grab your bearings and act like you weren’t just blatantly staring at her.

“You look beautiful.” You say, as casual as you can muster, and Cairo breaks out into a smile. You notice she’s wearing water liner, and it makes your knees feel like jelly. She’s only ever done makeup like this once, during your school dance, and it had all but made you swoon.

“Yeah?” She muses, mindlessly. Bending down and sitting on your makeshift picnic cloth.

“Yeah.” You breathe, even though you can tell she didn’t really need an answer to that. She reaches for your face, pushing a stray hair back.

“You look good too.” Is what she comments, all soft like.

You’re a little ashamed to admit you dressed up particularly for this occasion. Some rosy pink blush, your favorite lipstick just for her.

You cough awkwardly, and it breaks you both out of your trance. You reach for the food and serve her her plate.

You get a good while into talking and laughing that you bring up Mr. Miller.

“So…do you have your eye on anybody right now?” You ask nonchalantly, pretending like you haven’t mapped this whole conversation out in your head a million times.

Something flashes in her eyes but it disappears so quick you can’t tell what it is.

“You know you can tell me anything,right?” You tell her, and you mean it. Whatever or whoever it was, you’d be fine with it. You wouldn’t just stop being friends with her because of complicated feelings. She mattered more to you than that.

She bites her lip, then speaks quick, like she has to get it out before she overthinks too much.

“Yeah I am interested in someone. In this school, actually.” She says.

You feel your heart drop to your ass, you’d hoped against hope that the rumor wasn’t true- but with this new information, it had to be.

So much for ‘being okay with anything.’ That’s it. It’s over for me.

“Oh?” You try and ask, but it comes out as a little squeak. Cairo shoots you a weird look, but continues telling you about it.

“Yeah…I really like her. I just, I don’t know if I should pursue it.” She purses her lips.

Now it’s really time for your heart to flip. Her? Did she say ‘her?’

“Yeah, I did.” She confirms, small smirk playing on her crimson lips.

“Shit, did I say that out loud?” You ask her, cheeks heating up immediately. She gives you a quick nod.

Oh god.

“You like a girl?” You ask again, disbelieving.

This time she huffs, sounding almost impatient.

“Yes, I like a girl.” She says, exasperated, with a bit of bite in her tone. Something defensive and possibly jealous stirs up in you fast and quick. Why does she look annoyed?

You can’t help but answer in the same way.

“Okay, so who is it that you like so much?” You ask pointedly. The fire in her eyes that was there just moments before simmers, and just like that, she reverts back to her normal self. It’s almost concerning how she does it so quick, like the flip of a switch.

She suddenly looks nervous again. You give her a small encouraging nod, take her hand in yours as support. They tremble slightly.

“I like you. And I know you probably-” She continues but all you can hear are the echos of her first statement.

I like you. I like you. I like you.

I like you.

You retract from her hands, surprised beyond belief. You regret it immediately when her smile drops.

Her mouth is moving rapidly, and you use the best of your abilities to try and hear what she’s saying.

“I mean why do you think I even begged you on this date? I swear your head is so thick-“ Her words pass through your ears in intervals, and finally, after she’s done, and looking at you expectedly, all you can do is croak out a weak, “You don’t have a crush on Mr. Miller?”

Cairo blinks once, twice.

“What?” But there’s no fear or judgement or any hint of any emotion except disbelief.

Huh, so she didn’t know about the rumor.

“Who said I have a crush on Mr.Miller?” She asks, nose scrunching in disgust. You sigh, looking up to the sky and thanking god.

At this revelation, you’re elated. You scooch just a tad closer and tell her about the rumor. When you’re done, you expect someone shocked, or weirded out, but all she does is letout a hefty laugh.

“God, just because I like a class doesn’t mean I want to fuck the teacher.” She smiles, and you marvel in the way she’s able to shake it off so easy. She’s always been like that, carefree.

You let your mind wander to what she said before. She turns her head to look at the scenery, allowing you guys to sit in comfortable silence.

You say her name, a simple sound, but it makes her look up into your eyes, curious.

“Did you really mean what you said? You like me?” You ask, soft.

She gives an adamant nod, assuring she really does. God, you could not focus right now. She looks so pretty.

“I like you too. Like, a lot.” You breathe, and watch as her eyes sparkle.

“Really?” She blinks, in a state of vulnerability you’ve never seen. You can’t believe that she wouldn’t believe it. You give her the same nod, grin breaking out on your face.

“Can I kiss you?” She asks, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your lips.

It’s all you’ve ever wanted- you can’t even speak.

Her kiss isn’t what you’ve always imagined. Something soft, something gentle. That’s how it always was with the first kiss. You should’ve guessed long ago Cairo wasn’t just anyone.

She surges in, grabbing your face tight like if she lets go you’ll disintegrate. She’s so rough, and you can’t get enough of it. She climbs over your body and settles in your lap, grabbing the collar of your shirt to deepen the kiss.

You break away when it gets too much, both of you panting. Her cheeks are now another shade of pink you can be proud of causing; her hair messed up in a way that makes you want to grab her and kiss her again. And so you do.

You guys stay like that, laughing and talking and kissing till it’s dark out.

“It’s a good thing I forced you on this date, isn’t it?” She muses, rolling in your arms.

You giggle, high from the endorphins.

“You didn’t force me, it was a two person thing.” You try and justify, hoping she doesn’t think you didn’t want the date.

“It’s sweet of you to say that, but we both know you would’ve never asked me out.” She tells you, booping her nose against yours.

“Oh shut up.” And you take her lips in another kiss before she can retort.

[halfmoonaria]

chasing

pairing: cairo sweet x female reader

summary: cairo finds herself doing something she’s never done before.

wordcount: 3.3k

Cairo always got what she wanted.

She knew how to bend people to her will with a well-timed glance, a dangerous smirk, or a few whispered words that could send chills down anyone's spine.

Manipulation was an art she had mastered, her every move calculated and deliberate. She could sense the shift in a room the moment she walked in, how people instinctively gravitated toward her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the way people danced around her, eager to be on her good side.

So, when you, the new student walked into the room, confident and stunning, Cairo was certain you'd be no different.

She knew she'd have your attention in no time.

However, you didn't fall into line like the others.

You didn't focus on her the way she expected. Sure, you smiled, you were kind, but you treated her just like you treated everyone else.

You were friendly with everyone.

Too friendly, in her opinion. And that didn't sit right with her.

You had a way of floating between conversations, effortlessly charming everyone with your smile, your laugh, that way you had of making people feel seen. It grated on Cairo. Not because she didn't like it—no, she was impressed. Intrigued, even. But you treated her like everyone else.

And Cairo wasn't "everyone else."

She didn't want to be just another face you smiled at before moving on.

From the moment she set her sights on you, Cairo had already mapped out the game plan.

She'd sweep in with a little subtlety, make sure you knew that your attention should be on her. That she wasn't just another person you smiled at and moved on from. But every time she tried to catch your eye, she found herself met with the same warm smile you gave to everyone else.

It drove her insane.

You weren't playing the game right.

At first, she tried to be subtle, thinking she could reel you in with a little charm.

She'd linger near your conversations, leaning in just enough to draw your attention, flashing you a smile that usually sent people stumbling over their words. But you never did.

It irked her more than she'd ever admit.

One afternoon, she caught you at your locker, her presence lingering just a bit closer than necessary.

She didn't need to say much—just enough to remind you she was there.

"You've been busy," she said casually, her voice smooth. "Making friends?"

You barely glanced at her, smiling as you stacked your books in your arms. "Yeah, everyone here's really nice. It's been fun."

Cairo's fingers tapped against the edge of your locker door, her posture relaxed, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "You've got a lot of people's attention," she added, her voice carrying a faint edge, almost teasing, like she was sharing a secret.

But you didn't pick up on it, just continued gathering your books, flashing her that friendly grin she was starting to hate. "I guess so. I just like meeting new people."

She gave a small laugh, a flicker of frustration flashing through her eyes. Was that all it was to you? Meeting new people?

"I don't usually let just anyone into my circle, you know," she said, her tone light, but the hint of something more serious was there, just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, seeming to miss the point entirely. "That's cool. Everyone needs their space sometimes."

Cairo's smile tightened, just slightly. You weren't supposed to treat her like this—like she was just someone else in the crowd.

She wasn't used to dropping hints that went unnoticed, her usual strategies failing to catch your eye the way they did with everyone else. But there you were, treating her like a casual acquaintance, and it drove her crazy.

But she didn't let it show. She wasn't about to throw away her cool, not yet. Cairo always got what she wanted, and while you were making her work for it, she wasn't about to let you slip through her fingers. Not when she knew, deep down, that she was different.

You weren't cowering, you weren't melting into her hands, and it was starting to make her want to prove herself even more.

She wasn't used to it—feeling like she was chasing someone for attention. Normally, people flocked to her, desperate for even a sliver of her approval. But with you, it was different.

You didn't need her, and that was something she wasn't sure she knew how to handle.

But Cairo wasn't going to let that stop her. If she couldn't bend you to her will immediately, she'd find another way. Because in the end, she always got what she wanted.

And right now, what she wanted was you.

And one way or another, you'd see it too.

Although it took longer than she had anticipated.

Cairo couldn't even begin to admit it—not to you, not to herself.

The pull toward you was undeniable, slowly slipping past her walls, making her do things that were beneath her usual pride.

Things like asking for help. Her, of all people, needing someone else? It was almost laughable.

Yet, here she was, waiting in the hallway after class, her stomach twisting in unfamiliar knots, even as she forced that signature smirk onto her lips—the one she knew could get her anything. Anything, except maybe you.

It was after the last bell of the day, the hallways still buzzing with students grabbing their stuff and making plans for the weekend. You were at your locker, sorting through your books when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Hey, Y/N," Cairo said, her tone as smooth as always, cutting through the noise around you.

You turned to see her leaning against the lockers, her usual confident smirk in place. "You think you could help me with that English assignment Mr. Miller gave us?"

You didn't think twice, returning her look with the same warm smile you always gave her. "Yeah, sure. When do you want to get together?"

The casual buzz of students chatting and lockers slamming continued around you, but Cairo's focus stayed locked on you, her expression cool as if she had all the time in the world.

That simple, unbothered answer made Cairo's chest tighten in a way she hadn't expected.

You didn't know.

You had no idea that Cairo didn't actually need help.

She was the top student—well, she had been until you showed up. Now she was fighting for her place at the top, something she never had to do before. And she hated it. But she wanted this. She wanted you.

Everyone who knew Cairo would've raised an eyebrow at the request. She had history with Mr. Miller, and all it took was one well-timed request for an A to appear in her gradebook. But this time, Cairo wasn't interested in the grade. She wasn't interested in winning over Mr. Miller.

She was interested in you.

When she arrived at your place later that evening, the sight of you waiting on the porch felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

You looked even better—relaxed, confident, more like yourself. Your hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the casual way you leaned against the railing made her stomach flip.

She didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't like her to be knocked off balance. Cairo was always the one in control, the one with people tripping over themselves for her attention.

But now, she was the one who wanted your attention.

"Hey," you greeted her with a casual smile, holding the door open. "Glad you made it. Wanna head up?"

Cairo nodded, trying to mask the sudden rush of nerves that came with stepping into your space.

Your house was warm and inviting, a little messy but in a lived-in, comfortable way. It felt like you—authentic, with no need to impress anyone.

The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, and the faint hum of music from a room down the hall made it feel all cozy.

You led her to your room, where textbooks and notes were already spread out on your desk. You jumped right into the assignment, eager to help, as always.

But Cairo wasn't paying attention to the pages in front of her. She couldn't focus. All she could see was you—the way your lips moved when you explained something, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about an idea.

The worst part was how kind you were. It was maddening. You treated her like anyone else, not the untouchable, intimidating Cairo Sweet. And somehow, that made her want you more.

As you sat next to her on the bed, pointing out sections of the text, your knee brushed against hers. It was a small touch, insignificant to you, but it sent a jolt through Cairo's body. Her pulse quickened, heat rising in her cheeks, and she hated it—hated how out of control she felt around you.

But even more than that, she hated how much she liked it.

You leaned in closer to show her a note you'd written, and your breath was warm against her skin.

She barely registered the words you were saying. All she could focus on was the way you smelled, the warmth of your body next to hers, and the soft brush of your hand as you passed the paper back and forth.

She wasn't used to feeling this way—this fluttering in her stomach, the racing heartbeat that accompanied every one of your smiles.

You were turning her on, plain and simple. Cairo wasn't used to being the one who got flustered, but there she was, chasing after your attention, craving every little bit of affection you gave without even realizing it.

And it wasn't just about how hot you were, though that was undeniable. It was the way you treated her like she was just another person—no special treatment, no fear or awe in your eyes. You treated her like a friend, and somehow, that drove her insane.

For the first time, Cairo felt like she was the one chasing after something, and she hated the feeling.

Yet she needed to be closer, to figure out why you made her feel this way—why you made her feel so out of control.

But you were all she could think about.

Even days after the study session, it was still there—on repeat in her mind. Every smile, every move you made. She couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried. It was getting under her skin, and she hated it.

Like now, when Cairo sat on the edge of her bed, tapping ash off her cigarette into the dish beside her.

The smoke curled around her, thick and slow, as she took another drag, frustration bubbling in her chest. Ever since that night, she couldn't get you out of her head, and it was starting to piss her off.

From her spot in the corner, Winnie watched, an amused grin tugging at her lips. "You're still thinking about her, aren't you?"

Cairo shot her a sharp glare, but Winnie didn't back down. Of course she didn't; she never did.

"I'm not thinking about her," Cairo said, though the way her words rushed out betrayed her. "I just don't get it. I don't need to think about anyone. People think about me. That's how it works."

Winnie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying it. "Uh-huh. So why are you pacing around your room, smokin' like it's the end of the world? You've been talking about her nonstop."

"I'm not pacing," Cairo snapped, even though she had been standing and moving restlessly just a moment ago. She sat back down quickly, as if to prove a point. "And I'm not talking about her."

Winnie just chuckled. "Right. You're totally not obsessed with her or anything. Must be why you asked her to help with your English assignment—because you suddenly forgot how to ace essays."

Cairo scowled, taking another drag before blowing the smoke out through her nose. "I didn't forget anything. I just wanted to see what she had to offer. You know, test the competition."

"Oh, totally. You're all about fair competition," Winnie teased, leaning back with her arms crossed. "Except you've always been top dog, Cairo. Why do you care?"

Cairo stood up again, too worked up to sit still, pacing back and forth as she waved her cigarette in the air. "I don't care! That's the point! She's just this—this girl, right? She's new, she's hot, I get it. But so what? So am I. If I wanted her, trust me, Winnie, I'd get her without even trying. It's not like she's some unattainable goddess. I mean, seriously, she's just... just... friendly!"

Winnie snorted. "Oh no, not the deadly sin of friendliness."

"I'm serious!" Cairo shot back. "It's infuriating! She's nice to everyone, and it's like she's not even trying to get on my radar. She doesn't... she doesn't treat me like. You know. Do you know how weird that is for me, Winnie? She just smiles and moves on like it's nothing. And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

Winnie grinned, clearly enjoying Cairo's meltdown. "Sounds like you want her attention real bad."

"No!" Cairo's voice rose in frustration, and she jabbed her cigarette in the air to punctuate her point. "I don't! I just—if I wanted her attention, she'd give it to me. Trust me, I've done it a hundred times before. But it's like... I don't know. I don't need her to fawn over me, but she should at least... notice me more."

"Sure. Because that totally doesn't sound like you're into her or anything," Winnie said, leaning forward with a knowing look. "You're just mad because she doesn't act like your little fan club."

Cairo groaned, dropping back onto her bed. "I'm not into her, Winnie! God, I can't believe you're even suggesting that. She's cute, I'll give you that, but that's it. That's all it is."

"You sure about that? You've been talking about her for the last 20 minutes."

Cairo waved her off. "I'm venting! That's different. I just don't get how she can walk around acting like I'm no big deal. Like, I could snap my fingers and—"

"—and what, Cairo?" Winnie cut her off, smirking. "You can't force her to like you. And let's be real, you wouldn't even have to try this hard if you didn't care so much."

Cairo took one last drag, stubbing the cigarette out in the dish, her eyes narrowing. "I'm telling you, if I wanted her, I'd have her. She's not some puzzle I can't figure out. It's just... a challenge. That's all."

Winnie shook her head, laughing softly. "Keep telling yourself that."

But even as Cairo tried to convince herself—and Winnie—that she didn't care, deep down, there was that gnawing feeling. The one that made her think of you just a little too often, the one that made her wonder why your smile lingered in her mind long after you were gone.

The next morning, Cairo stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with a level of concentration she wasn't used to.

She had always been effortless—never needing to try when it came to her looks. But now, she cared. A lot more than she wanted to admit.

The black skirt she chose hugged her hips perfectly, the tiny stripes adding just enough detail to keep it interesting. She paired it with a white shirt, left a little loose, and she made the deliberate decision to go braless underneath.

Just in case you noticed.

Her jean jacket hung over her shoulders, completing the look. It was casual but... intentional. And she hated that she was doing this. But at the same time, she didn't stop.

Winnie stood in the doorway, watching Cairo with an amused smirk. "So... this is what it's come to, huh?"

Cairo shot her a warning glance, but Winnie just laughed. "What? I'm just saying. You've been in front of that mirror for the past twenty minutes, and now you're wearing a skirt? Since when do you care about impressing anyone?"

"I don't," Cairo muttered, brushing a hand through her hair, making sure it looked just the right amount of messy. "I just like this outfit, that's all."

Winnie stepped into the room, folding her arms as she watched Cairo fuss over the details. "Sure, sure. And the whole 'no bra' thing? Totally for comfort, right?"

Cairo's eyes flickered toward Winnie in the mirror, a small frown tugging at her lips. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Winnie said with a grin, "you've never dressed like this for anyone. You're trying to impress her. It's obvious."

Cairo scoffed, straightening up. "I'm not trying to impress anyone, least of all her. I just like looking good. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Winnie teased, leaning against the dresser. "Except you've always looked good without even trying, and now... you're trying. Hard."

Cairo didn't respond, choosing instead to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Winnie shook her head, still smirking. "Right. Well, good luck with your 'I don't care' look. But if I didn't know better, I'd say you're hoping she notices."

Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small flare of nerves twisting in her stomach.

She hated that Winnie was right. She was hoping you'd notice. Every time she saw you, your outfits amazed her. Whether it was something casual or a bit more dressed up, you always looked effortlessly put together. It drove her insane how you could look so good without even trying.

And now here she was, doing the exact same thing—hoping her choice of clothes might catch your eye, maybe make you see her in a different light. She was Cairo Sweet, after all. People noticed her. You were supposed to notice her.

As she left the house, Winnie's laughter echoed behind her, but Cairo shook it off. She wasn't doing this for anyone. Especially not you.

But when she saw you that day, dressed in your usual impeccable style, her heart skipped a beat. You looked perfect, as always. And despite her best efforts to play it cool, she couldn't help but wonder if you noticed her, too.

As the day progressed, Cairo tried to play it cool, but the nervous energy buzzed through her.

Each time she caught sight of you in the hall, laughter bubbling around you, she felt that familiar flutter in her stomach. Today, you looked particularly stunning, and it made her second-guess everything.

Finally, at lunch, she found herself sitting across from you, her heart racing as you casually chatted with friends. She watched you, captivated by the way you effortlessly engaged everyone around you. It was infuriating and exhilarating all at once.

"Hey," you said, turning your attention to her. "Nice outfit."

Cairo's breath caught, and for a moment, she felt the world around them fade. "Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The compliment, though simple, sent a rush through her, igniting that gnawing feeling in her chest.

You smiled at her, and something inside Cairo shifted. Maybe she wasn't just another face in the crowd to you. Maybe there was something more there—something she had been too scared to acknowledge until now.

As lunch continued, the laughter and chatter faded into the background. Cairo found herself lost in the moment, caught between wanting to impress you and the fear of showing too much. But as you engaged her in conversation, your eyes sparkling with interest, she felt a sense of hope blooming within her.

For the first time, she allowed herself to think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something special. Something that went beyond manipulation and appearances. Something real.

And in that moment, as you smiled at her, Cairo knew she was willing to take that risk.

[weirdobarbie]

JENNA ORTEGA as Cairo Sweet in MILLERS GIRL (2024)

[radsoldier]

You're a bad idea.

Pairing: Cairo Sweet x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary: Cairo is mesmerized by the new, mysterious student sharing a class with her.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: cursing, steamy scene (no smut however) I think that's all?

a/n: i'm sorry if it feels a little rushed? i changed the ending almost four times. hope you enjoy!

You hated how everything was changing but still, you felt numb.

You moved to another state, you decided to focus on your writting and suddenly you became a mystery.

Or at least that's how Cairo saw you. And she loved a good mystery more than anything.

More so if the mystery was the new and gorgeous student sharing a class with her.

Yeah, maybe she was getting a little obsessed over someone she had only exchanged a few words with.

She knew very little about you. Your name. The amazing writer you were. The body she only saw once, when you crossed paths in the locker room, you having finished your training with the soccer team, she getting ready for her swimming lessons.

The way you seemed to try to blend in so no one would be able to notice you. But she did. How could she not?

So she found herself, once again, writting about you. The possibilities were endless.

Who were you? Why did you get here halfway through the course?

God, she needed some sleep.

_________

You were late to your first class but you couldn't care less. The creative writting lecturer was really annoying.

You didn't bother knocking on the door and just walked in, getting a few stares from other students AND, obviously, your professor.

"So you decided to finally show up? What an honor" he said.

You chose to ignore him, it was really early in the morning and you didn't have time for coffee before you left home so yes, you felt like shit.

You scanned the room looking for an empty seat somewhere you could just lay low until your eyes landed on Cairo Sweet.

Well, on the spot near her. You walked there and without another word you sat next to her and opened your laptop on your desk, ready to start writting while blocking out your teacher's voice.

You opened your most recent work, knowing full well you didn't have the energy nor the time to finish it right then but you thought you might as well give it a try.

You could feel the burning stare on the side of your head but you decided to ignore it and started typing instead, focusing on your work.

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow and you could feel yourself getting more and more annoyed at the fact that you were unable to focus on the poem you were writing.

"Trouble in paradise?" Cairo asked with a smirk, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You stared at her with no sign of emotion on your face and she felt like you could see clearly every thought she ever had.

"Mind your own bussiness" you retorted.

You saw dissapointment flash across her features before she returned her attention to the stupid lecture and for some reason all you could think about was her smirk, the small dimples on her cheeks and all those freckles.

Fuck, her face was like a sky full of stars.

You tried to focus on your work with little success when Cairo's face haunted your mind.

_________

Class ended and you were the first one to leave, almost as if you were in a rush so when Cairo saw you smoking against a wall near the parking lot she was pleasantly surprised and without thinking it twice, she approached you and snatched the cigarrete from your hand, allowing herself a long drag before looking up at you with that same smirk from before.

You looked at her. Really looked at her. She was gorgeous. Her tiny frame held herself with shameless wonder. You felt like some force was pulling you to her.

"What do you want from me?" you asked.

She laughed and you swear your heart skipped a few beats in that moment.

"That's a great question" she said mischievously "I'm still figuring that out"

Then she stepped closer to you and she placed the cigarrete back in your lips.

"Then find me when you do, Cairo" you said smirking back before turning around and leaving.

She felt confused, she thought she was getting somewhere but she felt like you were always running.

Cairo watched as you started your bike and drove away from the building.

You really needed that coffee now if you wanted to make it to practice later that day.

_________

You were distracted, which earned you a talk from the coach. You scoffed and left the field to sit on the bleachers, as he instructed you.

"Sit back there and cool down, don't want that temper on my team, kid" were his exact words.

You couldn't help it. You either felt numb or mad, there was no in-between.

You watched as the rest of the team finished some drifts and exercises and you joined them, the only answer to your move being a slightly nod from the coach.

Practice finished without further inconvinience but you always decided to run around the field while everybody went home.

You liked the solitude of it.

So you found yourself entering the locker room really late that day. You took off your shirt first thing and then looked around to find no other than Cairo Sweet, her wet hair falling around her shoulders. And she was definitely checking you out.

"Enjoying the view?" you asked raising one eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm" she muttered not looking away from your abs.

You stepped closer to her and that seemed to put her out of her trance and look straight to your face. She was blushing and biting her lower lip.

"I will ask again, Cairo. What do you want?" you took another step closer.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and you lips as she licked hers.

"I want you, Y/N" she said breathless.

And she sounded so sure of it.

Your eyes darkened as she leaned closer to you so she could trace her hand against your jaw.

"So pretty…" she said.

Something inside of you switched and in a swift movement you grabbed her hand above her head and guided her backwards until her back made contact with the locker behind her.

"Fuck" she whimpered.

You leaned so close that she could feel your breath against her mouth.

"That's what you want, Cairo? You want me to fuck you?" you demanded.

"Y-yes" she was breathing hard and you were enjoying every bit.

You released her hand and she placed it on your shoulder, tugging for you to get even closer, while your hand made its way to her collarbone, you traced it slowly and then you placed it on her throat, with just enough force to keep her head in place as you finally closed the gap and smashed your lips agains hers, kissing her hard.

You shivered when you felt her hand tracing down your torso, taking her time around your top to finally rest on your abs.

She moaned when your tongue traced her lower lip, asking for permission which she happily complied.

The sound of a door closing took you both out of your steamy make out session and you felt your body tense when you pulled apart.

"I have to go" you said "Didn't mean to start a fire" you added smirking at her.

And with that you grabbed your things and left her there, speechless and aching for you.

[letorip]

Which one of Jenna’s characters do you think would be the best kisser ?

best kisser

okay, so i have a lot of thoughts on this, it’s legitimately like a thesis question that basically turned into headcanons. i crown a winner at the bottom so if it’s tl;dr and you just want to know then scroll on down

wednesday addams:

she “hates romance” but the moment you two fall in love she would be head over heels.

you fell first, she fell harder

she does everything to make you feel her passion and love, within every breath she breathes you must know, it’s for you

therefore, her kisses are insanely passionate. she knows what she wants and it’s you

she does lip biting (for a little bit of sadism) and tongue, and she loves leaving hickeys all along your neck to mark you as hers

your lips and your neck are her favourite places to kiss, your shoulder is her favourite place to bite

she definitely did her research. she studied how to become a better kisser at first, because she was so new to love, and now its sweet when she wants it to be and wanting all the other times when she can pull you away to roughly shove you against the wall and kiss it better

it’s just so perfect, she has you melting in her hands like putty when your lips meet hers

shes not the most comfortable with PDA. she struggles to kiss you when others are around

she’s not embarrassed, she just wants to keep your love private and for the two of you without the peanut gallery

best believe, behind closed doors, she’s kissing you so hard you almost release during foreplay. it’s almost pitiful how easily she has her way with you

tara carpenter:

okay tara is a wild one

she loves to party and have fun, but she also absolutely despises you at first because you’re hot and lord knows how that turned out last time

you definitely hate-fuck several times at first, and it’s the most sloppy, impassioned thing on planet earth, because you’re both a bit drunk.

she has you sitting on the edge of a bed in an abandoned bedroom at a house party in which neither of you know who the fuck is hosting. she’s straddling you, neck craned down for her to reach, and she smashes her lips to yours.

she always wears a strawberry lip gloss that tastes nice when you kiss her, to the point where you associate her with the sweetness.

she’s definitely noisy when you kiss

she huffs and stuff, and moans and groans, and she lets out little sighs when she’s coming down from her release

tara’s favourite places to kiss you are your jaw, ear, and neck, though she’s not much of a biter, like wednesday was

instead she uses her nails, and drags them down your back and shoulders in red streaks from holding on while you fuck

even after you get together, tara kisses you like she wants to take you out back and make you hers, no matter the venue

funeral, baby shower, wedding, bar mitzvah, she’ll kiss you with that ferocity and fight with you tongue to tongue

lorraine day:

lorraine begins as someone super unsure in herself

she wants you so bad, but all she really knows how to do is small, gentle, chaste kisses whenever the crew (and especially Bobby Lynne and Maxine) have their backs turned away

but she wants to do more, even if you tell her you love her as she is

after she starts participating in the movies, she becomes far more skilled at kissing and opening to trying tongue, catching your lip between her teeth, etc. when you’re all on break and she has you with your back against the wall

doesn’t matter how many scenes she films or what’s going on in them, she imagines it’s you doing them with her, and looks back when she can to where you stand in the corner with the boom mic

her kisses become so needy, with her work, and she slowly grows out of her guilty, timid shell to realise she wants more

she tracks you down one night, while you’re all on a trip to shoot a movie and crawls into bed with you. you grab her in your arms and hold her against you until she whispers “i want you to take me as yours, ya hear?”

even though she’s experienced, her voice still trembles a bit as she says it

she kisses your cheek, when you slowly nod and your hand slips under her nightgown

her favourite places to kiss you are your lips, your cheek, and along your collarbone

she doesn’t drag her nails or bite but she’ll wrap her arms around your neck and thread her fingers into your hair while you play an overture on her body

cairo sweet:

she’s so smart it takes a while for you to realise her general disdain for you stems from how badly she wants to kiss you

she hides it behind jabs at your intelligence, but eventually you catch her hungry eyes watching you

your first kiss happens in the library, and as she teases you with pungent condescension, you shove the book right off the table at kiss her right there and then

she pulls away the moment she realises out of shock— only to immediately kiss you back, twice as ferocious

you get caught by the librarian, pressed against a bookshelf with cairo’s arms around your neck and thighs around your waist

she kisses you to “reaffirm her superiority,” but unless that needs to happen twenty times a day, in the janitors closet, at her house, at your house, you’d say it’s bullshit or she’s super insecure

it genuinely upsets her when she can’t stop thinking about you, to the point where it’s unintentionally interfering with her plot involving Miller

shes insatiable for you in general, and she realises with horror that she’s in love. she loves the way you make her laugh and the way you dress, and it washes over her to realise she wants you

she no longer wants to kiss anybody, she wants to kiss you. She tells you this in an afternoon study session at Lovell Hill and you almost immediately confess the same thing

cairo’s favourite places to kiss you are your lips, neck, and jaw, and she loves hickeys the most, placing them everywhere she can.

whenever you and cairo fuck, your neck has so many small bruises and bites

she feels she can drop her guard around you and doesn’t have to be the perfection she seeks, because you’ll love her and kiss her anyways

it’s definitely tara for me, i love the energy and how much passion i think she would have. she would definitely be super passionate and fun, and i think the fact that she’d be so wanting of your kiss and experienced (*cough cough* amber) she’d definitely know how to kiss you right and get you all worked up. this was fun, i had fun trying to think as each character and take a break from my longer form writing which i’ve been toiling away at all week with my hurt hand. definitely hit me up for more headcanons/ questiony ideas if you liked this. i might also do a part 2 with vada, mabel, astrid, phoebe