#cairo sweet x y/n

[whoops-all-jennas]

The Ghost of Lovell Hill - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x fem!reader

"You live in Lovell Hill?"

"You know it?"

"I just didn't think it was occupied by anything except ghosts."

Summary: Winnie brings a ouija board to Cairo's place, Cairo sees someone she didn't expect to see ever again.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury, death, and aging

Cairo is sitting by the window of the by the stairs with a book. It's a dark day today, thunderstorms expected to last till tomorrow. She sees Winnie approaching the house under an umbrella.

Cairo heads down the stairs to get to the front door before Winnie can knock, her house, or more so her parents house, is gorgeous. It's old but has been well kept.

"Winnie, what is that?" Cairo opens the door, looking at what she is holding with a look of skepticism.

"It's an ouija board, duh." Winnie says with a dumb smile plastered on her face.

"I mean why'd you bring it here?"

"You said somethin' about Mr. Miller assuming nothing but ghosts lived in your house so." Winnie extends the o when saying so while bringing the ouija board closer to her face. "We find out."

"Whatever." Cairo moves out of the way of the door so Winnie can come in.

"What? you're tellin' me you're not curious?" Winnie asks with a look of curiosity.

"No, ghosts aren't real Winnie." Cairo starts the ascend the staircase with Winnie following behind her. "Besides that was exaggeration, I don't think Mr. Miller believes in ghosts either."

Winnie sets down the ouija board on Cairos bed, sitting in front of it. Getting ready to use it.

"I said no Winnie." Cairo says with a hint of annoyance in her voice while grabbing her laptop before finding her spot on the bed.

"What, afraid you're gonna be possessed or somethin'?" Winnie says teasingly.

"No, like I said ghosts aren't real." Cairo says will grabbing a cigarette. "We have school work that we need to work on."

"I'll only be a minute" Winnie says while putting her hands on the planchette.

"Are there any spirits in this house?" Cairo rolls her eyes while she starts typing on her laptop.

The planchette glides over to the text saying 'Yes'

Winnie's eyes go wide in bewilderment. "Holy shit."

"What? did you hand move whatever that is to the yes?" Cairo says with a smirk. "You're not gonna fool me."

Winnie looks towards Cairo with a serious look, an unusual look for her, before she goes to ask another question.

"What's your name?" The planchette starts to glide over the letters to spell out Y/n.

"What's the supposed ghost's supposed name?" Cairo asks, not lifting her eyes from her laptop.

"Why should I tell you? I thought you didn't believe in this stuff." Cairo shrugs her shoulders at Winnie's response, she didn't care enough to argue.

"How old are you?" The planchette glides back down to the lower section of the ouija board with numbers, hovering over 1, then 8.

"They're 18, maybe they're single." Winnie sayings jokingly to Cairo.

"Oh haha." Cairo says with a straight face, reaching to put her cigarette in the ash tray before the ash tray suddenly flies off the table.

"What the fuck was that?" Cairo exclaims before putting her laptop aside to pick up the ash tray.

"What do you think? I'm over here talking to spirits and junk and you think science and reason pushed your ash tray off your night stand?" Winnie looks at Cairo, raising an eyebrow.

"What you were being serious about what the board was sayin'?" Cairo stands, quickly walking to leave the room. "I ain't fuckin' with no ghost."

Right as Cairo was about the leave her bedroom door slams shut. Cairo jumps back, tripping over her own feet, and falling onto the floor.

Winnie gets up to look at Cairo. "Are you alright?" Winnie looks back to see the planchette moving on its own this time.

Winnie quickly heads back to the Ouija board to read what you're spelling.

"Come to the garden?"

Cairo quickly stands up and looks out the window to the garden in the backyard. There is a silhouette of a girl in a black dress holding a lace umbrella that shouldn't last two seconds in that storm.

A flash of light fills the garden for a moment, highlighting the silhouette, followed by the crackle of thunder. She was beautiful, contrasting the intimidation of the storm.

Winnie gets next to Cairo and looks out the window. "Did you see anything?"

Cairo glances at Winnie and than back out the window.

The lady was gone.

The door to Cairo's bedroom creaks open slowly, a lamp on the other side blinking.

Cairo slowly approaches it, when she's close enough the light turns off. Cairo quickly looks down the stairs when she sees another light flashing.

The stairs felt longer than usual as Cairo descended the staircase. Each step feeling louder than the last.

Winnie soon catches up, carrying the ouija board in hand.

When Cairo finally catches up to the light, the door to the garden slams open. The sound of rain filling the house as the wind carries it. Another flash of light seen out the door, soon caught up with the loud snap of thunder.

Cairo sprints towards the door, hands blocking the rain from hitting her face. When she finally gets close enough to close the door Cairo is meet with a sudden push.

"Cairo!" is the last thing she hears before falling on to the ground.

Cairo is now on the patio near the garden, it is deafening quiet besides the sound of faint waltz music and the smell of rain is gone. She looks up to the sunlight blinding her.

After her eyes adjust for a minute, she stands up and sees the garden decorated for a party. The flowers in full bloom, showing their off their beautiful white and pastels.

Cairo turns around to open the door, only rattling the door knob. She inspects her wrist to find shes not wearing the clothes she was wearing before. She was wearing a beautiful green lace dress.

"I was waiting for you!" It was the girl from the silhouette Cairo saw from the window. She picked up the bottom of her beautiful black lace dress while ascending the few steps between the patio and the garden.

"Come dance with me!"

Cairo finds herself being dragged by her hand to the center of the garden. Cairo looks at her face and faintly recognizes it.

Its you.

It has been years since she's seen you last, but as she's dancing with you, looking at your face again. The memories come rushing back.

-

Cairo was 14, her parents were finally back home from whatever country they were staying at for work. They were throwing a party for the little they would be home for. Cairo invited you as her date to the party.

You arrived to Cairo's house in a black lace dress, it was beautiful and you adored it.

You also hoped Cairo would adore seeing you in it.

Your knocks on the door were soon answered by Cairo's father.

"You must be Y/n! Cairo told us all about you." Cairo's dad makes room so you can get into the house.

"Thank you."

You enter the house and look around, there's a lot of noise and it's all the more overwhelming without Cairo by you side.

"Y/n!, you made it!" Cairo makes her way to the door where you were stood awkwardly.

Cairo is wearing a beautiful green lace dress and it's ten times more beautiful now because Cairo is wearing it.

You felt Cairo's eyes on you as well, admiring you.

"Cairo!" you grab Cairo into an embrace, too embarrassed to give her a kiss in front of her parents. You see her all the time but every hug means so much to you.

"I know you don't like these kinds of things, and I don't either, so it means a lot for you to at least suffer with me." Cairo let's go of the embrace and looks you in the eyes.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." You give her a patient smile.

You and Cairo head out to the garden, hand in hand.

The garden is filled with people in beautiful dresses and handsome suits. The flowers in full bloom, mostly white and pastel colors, as it's spring. There are string lights above the center where everyone is dancing to the waltz music.

Cairo let's go of your hand to offer her other hand in a dance.

You find a smile creeping up onto your face as you take her hand.

You both enjoy your dance for a few minutes, getting lost into her eyes and the music. It felt as if you two were the only people in the world, until someone knocks into Cairo with a red drink, most likely wine, spilling it all over her dress.

You let go of Cairo while she moves her arms by her shoulders with her mouth open, gasping at the sudden wetness on her dress.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry." The man says while running his hands over where he spilt the wine, making it ten times worse.

"It's fine it was an accident." Cairo hiding her annoyance as she faces towards you.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna. you know." Cairo motioning over her dress.

"It's cool, I'll just be waiting here." You gave Cairo another patient smile as she walks past you into the house.

A little bit of the wine splashed onto your shoulder earlier, but you didn't realize.

Suddenly the music felt so loud, like you could feel the music gently touching your skin. You started getting goosebumps as everything felt so much more sensitive.

Someone bumps into you, suddenly you feel the wetness of your dress on your shoulder. The murmur of the people drilling into your ears.

The tapping of shoes, the smell of flowers, the uncomfortable high heels, feeling like a sore thumb in a pool of strangers. Every thing together was just too much for you, you were overwhelmed.

Your eyes start getting glossy at the over stimulation as you soon grab the base of your dress and start running to the gate of the backyard to go to the only spot you could think of to calm down.

There was an abandoned treehouse by a river in the woods behind Cairo's house. You and Cairo would go there to hangout when it was a beautiful day outside.

It became a safe space for you over time and it was the only place you wanted to be right now. Not even Cairo's touch would make you feel better. You just needed to be alone for a minute.

You climb the ladder into the tree house, sitting under the window with your legs to your chest as you start crying.

You couldn't hear it over the sound of your tears but the aged and weathered wooden floor underneath you started to creak.

The floor underneath you caves in as you fall through, first landing on your tail bone, instantly starting to swell, before falling backwards towards the river, hitting your head on a root by the river before falling in.

You're surrounded by the water you use to find comfort in, no idea what was up and what was down. Your dress tangling your legs together.

The aching of your injuries soon faded as you gave in and the let the light beyond your eyelids fade.

Cairo goes back to where she left you, to end up confused on where you were. She searched through out the garden unable to find you, and then the whole house.

By this point she is starting to panic, where could you have gone? She rushes to the telephone to call your house.

"Hello, y/l/n residence."

"Is y/n there?" Cairo says with fear in her voice.

"No, she said she was going to a dance, why who is this?" The voice behind the phone asks, their tone now laced with concern.

"It's Cairo, she was just at the dance and now I can't find her. I assumed she couldn't handle it here anymore and went home." Cairo's voice now carrying panic instead of fear.

The phone line goes dead, the other side hanging up.

Cairo runs through the house, back to the garden. There was one place she didn't check, the abandoned treehouse, their safe space.

Cairo has never ran so fast in her life, her feet aching due to the heels she was wearing but she didn't care.

You were the only thing on her mind.

She climbed the ladder as fast as she could.

"Y/n!" Cairo shouted as she got high enough to look inside the empty tree house. She sees the hole but assumes it's just natural weathering.

She climbs down the ladder and looks back at the house to see red and blue lights alternating. There was a police car in front of the house.

When Cairo gets back to the house a police officer approaches her.

"Were there any places you know she would go to feel safe?"

"The only place I know of is the abandoned treehouse behind the house, but I just checked to see if she was there and she wasn't."

The police officer is writing into a notepad.

"Stay at the house until further notice, got it?" The cop gives Cairo a stern look until she nods. The police officer heads towards the treehouse while Cairo waits in the garden.

A few minutes pass and she hears the sirens of an ambulance approaching.

The ambulance goes through the grass and Cairo stands up to watch as the police officer from before is approaching back with a face he's trying to keep serious and stern, but there is a layer of sadness behind the mask.

Everything doesn't feel real, the silence is deafening as she watches the officer talking to her parents before the officer glances at her than walking away.

Her parents slowly approach her with sadness written in their faces.

"Cairo, we have some bad news about your friend." Her dad starts while putting a hand on Cairo's shoulder.

Cairo looking back and forth between her parents eyes, her eyes getting glossy feeling like she already knows what they're going to say.

As much as she didn't want to hear it.

Her dad sighs, looking at her mother for a second before meeting his eyes back to Cairo's.

"They found y/n's body a little down stream past the treehouse."

Body, y/n's body.

This was all Cairo needed to hear before the tears instantly starting to break through her eyes.

You were dead, you died because someone spilled wine on Cairo.

"No! it can't be." Cairo wraps her arms around herself before falling onto her knees, sobbing into her forearms. Her arms covered in her tears.

She needed a hug, but she didn't want one from her parents who are never home, not even for her birthday.

She desperately needed comfort, but now that you're gone there was no one to comfort her.

There would forever be a hole in her heart from the loss of you. She felt more alone now than before she had you.

-

Cairo felt a hand go to her cheek, as a thumb was wiping away a tear.

"It's okay, I'm here now" You give her a gentle smile as you sway her to the music.

"I-" Cairo was interrupted by her own tears avoiding eye contact.

"I missed you so much." Cairo says with all the emotions in her body, reconnecting the contact to your soft gentle eyes.

"I missed you too." You gave her a patient smile before continuing. "I waited so long for you, and I would've waited an eternity if it meant I can see your eyes once again, to feel your touch."

"I don't want to lose you again! I can't lose you again!" Cairo screams, her hands moving to lightly pound onto your chest.

"You won't ever truly lose me, I won't be able to be here forever while you're alive, but there will be a time that we'll see each other once again."

"Before I go I want you to promise me something."

"Anything." Cairo looked longingly into your eyes past her tears.

"Live your life to the fullest, the way you want to live. I don't want to be a burden to you." You started and paused before saying your next words.

"Live a life I couldn't." You grab Cairo's face with your both your hands, raw emotion in your eyes. "Could you do that for me?"

Cairo stared into your eyes for a moment. "Yes, of course I'll do that." The tears somehow stronger than before. "I love you."

"I love you too." You say, tears streaming down your face as you pull Cairo into your last kiss for a long time, the world fading around you.

-

Cairo wakes up in her bed, Winnie looming over her quietly.

Cairo instantly burst into tears hugging Winnie, Winnie looking around confused before hugging her back.

"I'm gonna miss her so much!" Cairo sobs into Winnie's shoulder, Winnie still confused as to what happened.

"It's gonna be okay, I got you." Winnie is running her hand through Cairo's hair comfortingly.

She didn't need to know what was going on, she just knew Cairo needed her in this moment.

Pretty soon, all of Cairo's tears went dry. She was exhausted.

Winnie laid down with Cairo as she fell asleep, speaking words of good affirmations in hopes of guiding her to good dreams.

-

Some time passes, Cairo gets accepted into Yale University through describing her story with you and focuses on an English Major.

After graduating college she publishes her first book, "The Ghost of Lovell Hill." Which tells the story of a girl who is haunted by her past lover.

On the bottom of the book cover near to where it says "New York Times Best Seller." it says "Based on True Events." Along with a note in the back of the book saying "Dedicated to Y/n Y/l/n, may we meet again soon."

Some years go by, Cairo has now published multiple books, being a successful author. Her friends are always curious about why she never goes on dates, and she always tells them something like "My standards are high." or "I'm not just interested in dating at the moment."

Truth is, she only wants you. And she's willing to wait an entire life time for that to happen.

Her friends start having families and children of their own. Cairo remains single and determined. No one could compare to you in her eyes.

The years continue to fly by, Cairo's hair is starting to get thinner and paler, her skin not as young as before. Her friend's kids are now starting to have children of their own. She has lost contact with a lot of her friends, but she doesn't mind being alone.

The room is silent, filled only by the sound of the heartbeat monitor. Cairo is hooked up to multiple machines, her hair grey and skin aged. She is dying alone in this hospital bed, but that doesn't matter to her.

Pretty soon, she'll never be alone again.

She closes her eyes, accepting the embrace of death. She lived the life she wanted, just like you asked. You were never a burden to her, you never could be a burden to her.

She is satisfied with life.

The sound of the heartbeat monitor stops.

Cairo opens her eyes slowly, she's back at her old house she lived in in high school, Lovell Hill.

She gets out of bed, realizing her body doesn't ache the way it use to. Before approaching the window in her room.

She looks like how she did when she was younger. Her hair healthy and thick, her skin young and smooth. She looks past the reflection to find you, sitting patiently in the garden.

Cairo practically leaps down the stairs, running to the garden door, and opening it with all her strength. You stand up and stare at each for a moment, until Cairo runs into your arms.

"I did what you asked!" Cairo sobs into your shoulder, gripping the back of your shirt.

"I lived my life the way I wanted to." Cairo raises her head from your shoulder and grabs your face, longingly staring into your eyes.

"I missed you so much. I'm so happy I have you again after all these years."

"I missed you too, but you were worth missing." You say, tears streaming down your face, taking in every feature of her face before holding her tightly again.

"We have each other forever now, that's what matters." You say, comfortingly running your hand through her hair.

Cairo let's go from the embrace, holding your hand for the first time in awhile. "Let's go inside, I can tell you everything that happened." Cairo sniffs with a smile, her eyes puffy from crying.

Cairo guides you into the house, admiring you one last time before opening the door.

a/n: guys idk how this story happened, I was watching Millers Girl and heard Mr. Miller say something about how he thought only ghosts lived in Cairo's house and thought it was a good idea for a fic. then it turned into this somehow I'm so sorry. either way, my brain is so fried, hope you guys enjoyed :)

[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

masterlist

“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

[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.

[ajortga]

love at first glance

pairing: tara carpenter x bass guitarist!fem reader

word count: 5.5k+

summary: in which tara admires your bass skills, then admires you even more.

author's note: please bear with me, i don't know what i'm doing but i'm just hoping these scrambled words just go well. tv girl mentioned!

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based off request!

tara carpenter x masc! fem reader and reader is in a band, maybe like lead guitarist or bass? but like tara goes to a concert with all of the core 4 (+anika cuz i miss her) and like is mesmerized by reader. maybe they make eye contact during a song or sum? they leave the concert and tara is still thinking about reader and reader is still thinking about tara. cut to like later maybe at a party or a bar and they bump into each other and chop it up, but reader is like awkward-ish?

-

You’ve always had a love for anything that was related to music. Your parents made you take singing lessons ever since you were little. 

At first, you hated it. Singing Mary Had a Little Lamb in different keys was not entertaining. But as you grew older and probably didn’t need to sing that song every practice, you began to use your house’s grand piano that was left untouched for years. And then, being able to sing and knowing your keys inside and out wasn’t so bad after all. 

You spent countless times in the living room, the echo of your voice lingering against your house as you learned your favorite songs.

You wrote songs and composed as you experimented with your voice and the keys. It was almost never surprising when your parents caught you up late at night under your pillow, pencil scratching notes across lined pieces of paper. In every single talent show, audition, or musical, your name would be signed. Everyone in your family knew that one day, you’d grow to be a musician. 

People would even begin to see you whenever they were at warehouses and you’d be playing a piano. At every gathering, your relatives would ask, “Where is that little Y/N?” And your parents would look at each other with a knowing glance, both saying confidently, “Probably in the living room with that damn piano.”

You loved listening to music, making music, playing music, feeling your emotions in music, god, every time you’d go out, your earphones would be in your pockets.

So when you were gifted an acoustic guitar for your 12th birthday, to say the least, you were fucking thrilled. Instead of playing the piano 7 days a week, you’d play guitar for half those days. Gosh, was it hard learning a string instrument after playing piano for half your life? Maybe. But you loved it. 

You’d practice and practice, gradually getting better, then you’d play the electric and bass. And was the bass guitar a hell of a sound, you loved it. 

Then, the best thing ever happened to you. You had grouped up with your friends and quickly became a band with all your talents combined. Slowly but surely, did you begin to realize how far you had gone. Because in a blink of an eye, you were at concerts, fingers pressing down on your strings as it electrified through stadiums and arenas while people cheered. 

Cheered for you. That’s something you’ll never regret in your entire life.

-

You turn your bass’s machine head, plucking each string as you tune them before your concert. Nights like this never get old, you’d always be left with the adrenaline from every concert, like your body was refreshed when you slept under your hotel room’s covers.

As your hair and makeup stylist’s makeup brush dabs across your cheeks, you trace the outline of your bass guitar and look at yourself in the mirror. Layered hair, a black tank top over your toned arms, hidden beneath a red leather jacket. Your favorite part would probably be your nails painted red to compliment your hands. You had to keep them short though.

What would this night bring you? Everytime you close your eyes and listen, you can hear the faint echo of your bass vibrating through, lights swaying into the crowd, a smile forming on your face.

Every night had something different, there were different people, a different crowd, it makes you feel different every time. Yet you still feel the thrill and pride swell against your chest.

Junia, one of your closest friends that plays the drums, pops her head in. “You look hot,” she grins, “Jess said she’d come to pick us up at 40. You’re going to kill it, Bass.”

Bass. What an original nickname, you lean your chin into your palm as you raise your eyebrows, “You know it, June.” 

7:45.

-

Tara looks at herself in the mirror, Mindy and Chad screaming at each other while playing Jenga in the background. She pushes a stubborn strand of hair away from her eyelashes while she curls them. 

“CHEATER!-” Mindy yells, making the brunette flinch and breathe in frustration. She was not going to get her eyelashes pulled out.

After Tara was done with a cropped graphic tee, a jean skirt, and a cute little white bow in her hair, she walked through the hallway and into the living room, still adjusting her gold hoops.

There, Anika and her sister seemed the sanest out of them all. On the other hand, the twins were fighting over the remote. 

“Babies,” Sam mutters, pushing her dark brown hair back.

Anika pulls the remote out of both of their hands easily while Chad mutters ‘what the fuck’ under his breath. 

It was like being in a daycare. Tara ate a cookie while watching Anika throw the remote onto the sofa, wearing a lace tank top with jeans, “Mindss, why don’t we just leave the remote and find something else. Your hair is getting all poofy.” 

“And a little dingussy,” Chad adds.

Mindy smacks him, “Don’t ever use ‘dingussy’ to describe something. It sounds sexual.”

Before they could say furthermore, Tara jumps in, mentally begging them to shut up for a moment, “You have the keys, Sam?”

Sam pulls them out of the pocket in her jeans. 

Tara gives a small nod, looking a little over Sam, “Anika, tickets?”

“Yep, 5 of them,” she says, pulling out each ticket one by one with one hand and smoothing out Mindy’s hair with the other. When it was 5:30PM, they were all off, crawling into Sam’s car. Tara immediately sat in the passenger seat. 

I’m not sacrificing my hair by sitting in the middle seat, she thinks as she looks back at Anika, who was basically separating the two twins that were probably yelling in her ear at this point.

“You guys will love them. Jess has always been one of the most talented people I know in music. I have no doubt her band will be the best on stage.”

When Anika had first mentioned when she won a giveaway for a concert. It was for a barricade, but it was stated that they were allowed to be in the front row, the tickets she won had granted her that. Tara wasn’t very interested. Music just wasn’t something she always listened to on a daily basis. But there were 5, and no way would she miss out. 

So she listened to a song, played it on Spotify while walking to class. 

The scene shifts to a local coffee shop in Woodsboro.

“Let me tell you, the bass was fucking amazing! Brilliant!” Tara yaps excitedly to the four people in front of her. She loved how well the drums, electric, lyrics, and bass sounded. The bass blessed her ears. She had immediately added it to her favorites. 

“Bass, huh?” Anika smiles while drinking her coffee. “I think that’s one of the leads, Y/N. Jess always talks about how good she sounds, she usually comes up with all the riffs and lines.”

Y/N. It was unique, Tara made a note to remember it. Yet, she forgot about that conversation no less than 2 days after.

-

They all stepped out once they could see people lining up and buying the light up sticks that were controlled throughout the concert. Tara found it cool that the sticks had stars on them, in fact, the lights were one of the parts that made a concert a concert. 

Mindy was yelling happily and doing a little dance once their tickets got scanned and they all ran to the front row. 

Anika gave a cocky grin, “Maybe they’ll notice us because we’re in the front!”

It was thirty minutes until the background music came to a stop and the lights slowly started to dim. People were screaming, Tara’s heart was pounding against her chest. It was dead silent, whispers and occasional excited screams echoed.

“Oh my god, it’s happening,” Mindy whispers loudly, holding onto Anika as they look at the curtains.

They wait a moment, then two, and by the third one, drums begin to echo. ‘Tsst’ being echoed, before it follows with a loud 16th beat of drums. Then, the curtains open as Tara’s eyes widen.

Are you sick of me?

Would you like to be?

I'm trying to tell you something,

Something that I already said

The drums softly fill Tara’s ears, as she watches them play, she finally notices you. Perfect layered hair, messy in all the right ways. The bass girl. Something about the way the warmth of the light danced across your face in all the right ways captivated her. The way your deep red leather jacket hung over your shoulder, exposing your defined collar bones and toned arms while you pressed on strings.

Oh god, it felt as if a new story line with different love interests began to change for Tara. She could see the veins against your slim hands as they traveled across your guitar with ease. You mouthed the lyrics, enjoying yourself as you close your eyes and sway softly to the beat. 

You like a pretty boy,

With a pretty voice

Who is trying to sell you something,

Something that you already have

The drums left Tara’s thoughts, now hearing you and the way that your bass adds on to the magic of it all. You’re just standing there, your bangs swiping across your features as you tuck it to your sides, smiling to yourself as you scan the crowd for a moment then look back down to your strings.

Maybe it was the way you looked like you were the right person for this part–to be on stage like you were meant for it. Or maybe it was the way your gaze flickered to the front row and landed on Tara’s wide ones. She could see the way you tilted your head and gave her a curious, wondering look, before giving her a small smile. 

Oh my god, your smile was so cute. If she could describe it, it’s like the kind of smile that made her all giggly and was so contagious that she felt herself slowly smile.

The lights shine over your face, making everything about you glow. You pluck at the strings as you mouth the chorus to Tara. Her eyes searched all over your face. You don’t break eye contact with her.

But if you're too drunk to drive,

And the music is right

She might let you stay,

But just for the night

“And if she grabs for your hand, and drags you along,” Tara mouths back in time with the song.

One of your eyebrows raise as the light shines onto you once again, god, she can almost hear your soft, breathy voice teasingly singing, “She might want a kiss before the end of this song..”

Anika screams, jumping up and down and hyping everyone up, waving her heart stick in beat with the song. 

Because love can burn like a cigarette…

-

By the end of the concert, Tara was love struck. Very very love struck. It was late when her and the four of her friends walked out, the stars shining just a little brighter. She couldn’t get you out of her head. She might have grown gray hairs. How could you be more than any other celebrity crush?

She prayed to the universe that it would align you both together. Just like each star was in the night sky.

It’s bad, Loving Machine is playing and she can only think about you strumming your guitar.

Here she comes walking down the street,

Maddie Klein and her fabulous loving machine-

“Earth to Tara, hello?” Anika pauses the music, waving her hand into the girl’s face. It was almost like a record scratch moment as Tara blinked and looked around. “Oh, sorry, what?”

“Did you like the concert?” She asks, holding onto her star light up as the red light makes the glitter under her eyes sparkle. Anika was now in the middle, the car a little quieter since Chad was now in the passenger seat.

“Oh yeah, I loved it.” Tara answers, half of her attention slipping away. She starts to see you from a camera, lighting cast against your tan skin, a TV effect on you, making your movements jerky. 

The rest of the people are fading away, their voices, so loud and eager. Blah blah blah blah… Y/N.. Bassist. Love of her life.

Dreamy sigh.

Blah.. Blah.. “Yeah the bassist was hot.” Mindy’s voice suddenly being processed.

“What?” Tara immediately turns away from the window and looks at Mindy on the opposite side. Oh god, now she was going to have to fight for you? "No! Go find someone else to admire!” She grumbles, before immediately looking away.

The whole car shakes as they all laugh, playfully hitting Tara. “See? She was literally summoned, baby!” Anika giggles, talking to Mindy. “She wasn’t giving any shits when we were talking, and as soon as we talked about Senorita Y/N, she was like poof!”

Sam looks from the rearview mirror, an eyebrow raised, “Already? One concert that lasted two hours and she’s already wrapped you around her little finger?”

Little fingers, those veiny hands that played so smoothly across the-

Chad turns around excitedly, like a child peeking at surprise presents, “She was literally captivated the whole damn concert! You should’ve seen her, a love sick puppy!”

Her sister cackles, the car moving as she keeps snorting, “Gotta admit though, she’s fine wine.”

“Sam!” Tara rubs her cheeks, she seriously hoped she wasn’t going to have to battle till death for you.

“Chill!” Sam coaxes, putting one hand up in the air, “I would totally go for her if you weren’t interested. Didn’t think you had a thing for ‘Sam accepted’ girls.”

The freckled cheek girl couldn’t help but sigh, the thought of you still lingering in her mind. Like a twinkling little Melody who’s lyrics couldn’t get out of her mind, even when she slept.

-

It had been a week. Tara says that she doesn’t think of you too often, but every single time she hears your band’s song, you end up in her mind for the whole day. Every time she steps into a coffee shop, she wonders if you’d be the person to give a free concert. 

She wonders if you’re as sweet as your name sounds. She wonders if you’d hold doors for others or walk old ladies down the street. She wonders if your hand would fit hers. She wonders if you had even thought of her after the curtains closed.

She wonders if you smell good, if you’d smell like a musky, sweet, fruity vanilla-y scent with leather undertones. She sure hoped so.

To say the least, you’ve thought about the brunette just as much. You were having fun, strumming your guitar and feeling the beat radiate off your skin. Until you lay eyes on her. She had wide, brown doe eyes that made your knees buckle. 

She was heaven-sent. You could even make out her tan freckled cheeks. And you were almost in denial when she was looking at you. It was always who was singing that people looked at, heck, you did too. But you were looking at her. And she was looking at you.

Plenty of people might have looked at you, but she was different. Like she was mesmerized by how you played. Like she was a moth to your flame. 

In fact, you don’t know if anyone has ever looked at you with that much admiration.

The girl was so beautifully written, you wished you knew who she was. Instead, she was one out of 8 billion people out there, in a blink of an eye, a close of a curtain, she was off.

-

Tara looked at herself in the mirror, standing there like.. She didn’t even know, her serious eyes trailing down to what she was wearing, before turning to Anika slowly.

“Anika, I look like a hot dog.” She cries, looking at the way the costume swallowed her whole in the fitting room.

“That’s because you’re wearing a hot dog costume, Tar. But you look like a steaming hot hot dog!” Anika shakes her head, her head only visible since she was basically a whole mustard bottle. 

Mindy waddles through the living room, a red ketchup bottle, a red dangling earring complimenting her poofy hair. “Has anyone seen my earring? I can’t find it! It was in my purse and I thought if it looked good, I’d totally buy this.”

Chad walks in the girl’s fitting room, slightly peeking as Sam walks out of her dressing room, a serious expression on their face, a cookie and milk costume. 

Tara wants to laugh, but no way in hell was she going to wear this at a costume party, at least not at a serious one.

-

After actually taking it seriously, Tara decides on a pirate outfit, tying up her bandana. 

She can almost hear the music blasting from her apartment, which is filled with laughter and chatting from her ‘family.’

Her eyes skim over her board, looking for her calendar that was usually meant for school, roaming around the small photos of you and a heart drawn over your face. She traces over it, before getting ready to leave, not even looking at the calendar. 

Maybe the calendar was just an excuse.

After 5 songs and a half of your band’s music, the core five, including sweet Anika, open the door. A heavy scent of booze fills their senses, sweat, and a mix of perfumes all lingered. Not to mention, it was stuffy.

“Ugh, do they ever think about AC?” Sam grumbles, clearly not a party person as she gets whacked across the face from a toilet plumber that belonged to a person who was wearing a damn toilet costume. Mindy cackled, before tripping and almost crashing into them, luckily her girlfriend tugged her back.

They pushed against cowboy hats and random inflatable dinosaurs, across the dance floor, and to the drinks station.

Tara did not leave empty handed, her mouth gulping down the bubbly bitterness of alcohol. 

She was buzzed, a few drinks here and she was flushed and giggling, so she made sure to think about her intake. As she parted from the other four to find a trash can, scanning the groups of people. Sometimes she found people she knew at school, cute boys, just people she’s seen.

Tara took a different route back to her friends, the music growing louder in her ears when she got near the dance floor, slivering through bodies. It was almost inevitable that her nose would scrunch, too strong of a perfume, or just sweat.. It made her nauseous. 

Where was she going? She didn’t know, she stood on her tippy toes, her ruffled blouse crinkling as she searched for her friends.

Her face smacked right into someone, her hand automatically being placed on their chest. She opened her mouth, about to apologize and prepare for a scolding until her nose twitched. A fruity and sweet vanilla-y smell, and a light leathery contrast.. No?..

“Shoot,” you look down, your drink almost spilling on yourself as you look at the shorter person as you smooth out their hair. Did you ruin it? “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Tara looks at her outfit, perfectly fine, no stains. Hearing your soft, breathy voice, it was unrecognizable to her at first.

“No, it’s totally fine, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Tara says, immediately looking up and seeing your big curious eyes.

Oh my god.

Your eyes search hers, like you’re scanning her. Like you feel you’ve seen her before. No, you know you have. But where? The trace of her nose, doe eyes, oh! Tara almost puts a hand over her mouth because she can almost see the swirling sense of recognition in your eyes.

You opened your mouth to say something, maybe to ask about the concert, but you closed it. You don’t even know if she noticed you, maybe she was spacing out and was not acknowledging you during your concert a few weeks ago.

When it came to people, especially ones you crushed on, you were all stuttering words and pink cheeks.

The shorter girl sees the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and she registers what you’re wearing as her eyes trail down. And fuck, you looked angellic. Seriously.

A halo over your head and wings enveloping your sides. A black corset and ruffled skirt that showed a little of your legs, which were covered with tights. God, she thinks she can see the muscles as you cross one leg over the other.

It immediately makes you think she’s judging you. This costume was not your cup of tea, but your friends invited you to match with them, all angels in different colors.

The little pirate instead gives you a genuine look, “I like your costume,” she says, focusing a little too much on your toned arms and slightly flushed cheeks.

“I um.. Thank you..?” You bite your tongue, not knowing her name. In what chance do you get to meet the girl that made you think soulmates were real once again? At least a 1 in 300 chance. 

“Tara,” she answers for you, pretending she didn’t already have your name embedded in the back of her head. 

“I’m Y/N,” you bite a smile, she probably didn’t recognize you. You take a small sip from your drink, nose scrunching at the taste.

“You’re good at the bass,” she says nonchalantly, and you almost choke on your drink. 

You didn’t think she’d recognize you, but now knowing that, you tilt your head. “Thank you. It comes from years of practice. What did you think?” You were genuinely curious.

“I think you’re just so good at the bass..” She mumbles, again, trailing off, before clearing her throat. “I mean, the bass always makes the songs so much better! You know? It’s like realizing how amazing something really is when you notice it-”

“I appreciate it,” you say, now aware of your surroundings because instead of where you two just bumped into each other, you were sitting at a table. You turn your head, looking at where you were, probably near the back. 

Tara took the opportunity to notice your damn jawline, so perfect and sleek and defined-

“I like your freckles,” you admit, voice breathy. You turn back to look at her while batting your eyelashes, Tara’s eyes trained on how your hands.. Veiny hands lifted the cup to your lips.

The compliment almost catches her off guard, because with all the compliments she might get, freckles were usually not on the list. It used to make her insecure, but the way you said it and looked said otherwise. The alcohol was definitely taking a toll on you, because you were staring at her with no shame whatsoever.

Wide, searching eyes, it looked as if you were trying to memorize every detail. 

The flutters in Tara’s stomach would’ve lasted longer. Except her eyes teared away from yours as she could see a very familiar ketchup and mustard costume and two other people behind them.

“Oh my god!” She groans quietly, covering her face as she scoots deeper into the booth.

She completely forgot that she slithered away from them, getting side tracked.

The brunette could die from embarrassment. You on the other hand.. Just prettily sitting there with a curious look on your face, the small warmth of the lamp casting a glow onto your face.

You bite your lip, trying to fight back a small giggle as you peek at the costumes that you can almost kind of guess who they are to Tara.

-

“SHE’S LOOKING THIS WAY!” Mindy hollers, tugging the mustard bottle next to her as Chad scribbles something on a piece of paper.

“Tara’s literally hiding from us.”

“Hold it up!”

-

They’re screaming at each other. You can’t hear it from all the music and party chatter, but you can definitely figure it out from their expressions. For a moment, they turn away from you, so you can’t see them.

You slip on a leather jacket that was in your bag.

A hiding Tara is in the corner of the booth, you raise your eyebrows at her.

It doesn’t take long before the four people across the room slowly turn to you in synchronization. 

“Um, I don’t-” You start, feeling a little awkward.

They hold up a paper, and you can’t even see what the words are saying. It’s at least the size of a penny. And from here, you can’t even make out the words.

-

“Dingus,” Mindy shouts to her twin, noticing the confused expression on your face as you try to understand what the paper is saying. She finally turns the paper around after holding it up. “It’s too small, that’s why!”

-

One of the four holds up a finger, signaling you to give them a moment as they adjust, before turning around.

‘Give her your numbar’ The sign says, you still don’t get it. Oh, number. You grab a tissue from the booth, and take out a sharpie from your pocket. Sharpies were always needed whenever you went out. To write down something on your hand, to sign autographs..

You slip the paper to Tara, giving her a small smile. She was definitely embarrassed. She didn’t even notice you slipping it to her, because after 5 seconds of you sliding it to her again, she still was clueless! The girl, instead, turned around to look out, immediately still seeing her stupid friends.

You sigh, putting the paper into your pocket. You feel a little bad for her.

Party lights fill the empty crevices of the room while you scoot out of the booth and stand up, pretending you didn’t notice the four people who were staring into the back of your skull.

“I think my friends are playing some Uno, you wanna come?” You offer, guiding her out of the booth as you look down at her.

“Sure.”

-

As the game went on, the last two players in the center still battling it out, Tara could see you were all fuzzy and flushed. 

You were definitely drunk. Too drunk to drive.

Your knees were nudged against hers, a little closer than expected, cuddled into her, but she didn’t mind. God no she definitely didn’t.

She was talking a lot, and you were always open ears and one of the best listeners. And then you would ramble and Tara would listen. It made you both feel heard and understood.

After a moment, you remember something. 

“Can I borrow your phone real quick? Uh, my phone is dead right now and I have to text a friend where I’m at.” You lie, your words slightly mushed together.

“Sure,” Tara says, unlocking her phone and handing it to you, a little drunk. You try to ignore the fact that the wallpaper is you from the concert she attended weeks ago.

You slip into the contacts, adding your contact and changing the name to; y/n, the bass guitarist ♡.

She didn’t even notice for the rest of the night.

As the sun slept at night, Tara stared at the ceiling, her vinyl spinning while a crackled “Say Yes to Heaven” reverberated around her bedroom.

She wished she could’ve stayed so much longer, but her friends had to leave, and there was no way she was taking an Uber or driving when tipsy.

Tara wanted to ask for your number, but because you never asked, maybe you didn’t because this didn’t mean as much as it did to her.

Curiosity was getting the best of her as she checked the messages on her phone, wondering how you typed like to your friends. But to her surprise, there were no messages to a number she didn’t recognize. The last number was just to Sam.

Her nose wrinkled, swiping to check the apps recently opened as she clicked the recent one. 

Dimples creased against her cheeks as she saw your name with a little heart. She immediately clicked to message you. But to her surprise, you had already done so.

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: whatcha doing? i hope ur not asleep yet>:(

tara ☆🧭: thankfully not yet, i’m in bed. u know, i was going to be a little sad than i’d like to admit if i didn’t get your number. 

 y/n, the bass guitarist ♡: i did hand you a paper, but you were hiding in the corner of the booth and i thought it would be easier this way

It took her a moment to think of what to say, before she thought of something she never thought she’d do late at night.

tara ☆🧭: do u wanna call? maybe just talk to each other till one of us falls asleep.

You usually weren't the person to connect over facetimes and calls, sometimes you didn't know what to say in the moment. You don't know..

She doesn’t get a response for a minute, before her phone vibrates in her hand and she swipes to answer.

Your hair was let down loose, in an oversized tee that even then she could still see your collarbones. You give a sleepy smile.

“Tara,” you say softly, and something in Tara thumps because you look so happy to see her. She grins back, shifting so she could see you better.

“I’ve never really done one of these,” your quiet voice says, a warmer tone casting over your face. “Do you want to say hi to Cinnamon? He’s my puppy.” You say, pushing your hair back.

The brunette nods, “Puppies are so cute, my sister isn’t very fond though. They sometimes make her sneeze.”

“Oh, allergies you could get a poodle breed or something, Cinnamon doesn’t shed much,” you agree, your camera slightly shaking as she can slightly hear you call your dog's name in a cute voice. “Come here, boy!”

Seconds later, you bring out your puppy, which lolls outs his tongue as you press a kiss to his head. Tara can see your red nails as you mess up his hair.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tara says, looking at you through the screen with pure curiosity.

“I-” You pause, thinking for a moment before shaking your head. “I think you should tell me about yourself first. It’s late and I want to listen to you. As much as I’d try to stay up, I’d fall asleep if you went second.” You murmur, cuddling with Cinnamon.

What you said made Tara feel something she doesn’t feel often. Appreciated? Well, she always wants to listen to others when calling, then she might go second, but when you brought up her going first? That made her feel fireworks.

“Okay, what do you want to know first?”

“What’s your favorite memory and why?”

-

As an hour, then two passes, you begin to tell Tara about yourself. She’s never felt so heard before. Both your lamps are off, now the only light from each others screens.

She can tell you’re beginning to doze off. The way you’re pausing and blinking sleepily before murmuring a little too softly. 

“What is something that you hate?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your light breaths heard on the other end as you shift slightly and prop up your phone.

“Peppercorns..” You yawn, keeping your eyes half open. “They’re fine for seasoning, but when I bite into them, god.. It tastes so bad..”

You pause again, eyes heavy as you blink. “When you feel like you have to change for other people to like you. When you have to be someone you’re not because of people that don’t make you feel like you can be yourself.”

Tara nods, rubbing her eyes as she admires your defined features, even from the darkness. She could see the softness too. If she looked enough.

“I think those people make me feel the worst. Not wanting to be the one laughed at so you change to the one that’s laughing. Or when people talk down on the things you love. It hurts. And that’s something that I hope no one goes through.”

Wow, something about that makes her get to know the kind of person you are by a landslide.

“That’s a good response. What about your favorite fruit?”

“Mmm.. Watermelon. The sweet ones.. It’s so refreshing and…” You trail off, your eyes closing as your breathing evens out. Your lips were slightly parted, your puppy making a small whimper as he snuggles into you.

It’s silent, except for the faint white noise from Tara’s ceiling fan. You looked like a dream. Everything you talked about made Tara see nothing but good. And knowing that makes her feel like she should start seeing things the way you do.

A car passes by, the softest lyrics playing, it lulls Tara to bed.

We were listening to lovers rock

In her bedroom

You both fall asleep on call, maybe people were meant for each other.

[xoluvx]

cairo's girl; cairo sweet

𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 @lovxlyvee 🤎

For as long as you could remember, it was her. You longed for her. Longed to be hers and only hers. Navigating life rotating around her axis like she was the sun and you were a measly planet.

You settled for the title of "best friend". Masking the affection. Looking elsewhere. Longing for that feeling of wanting and being wanted freely, knowing it could only truly be satisfied by her touch. A touch she teased. Dangling it over your head like an unattainable prize. A touch she simply forbad. Too preoccupied chasing her own forbidden and rotten fruit.

If that was the only way to stay close, you were taking it. Sitting next to her in the confines of her room. Bottle of wine half empty. Eyes teary eyes and vision blurry as you made questionable choices. Choices encouraged, no, forced by her languid words.

"Take off your shirt," she smiled wickedly leaning close. You could smell the alcohol on her breath. Her eyes pooled so big you could swim laps in her orbs. There was an implication in her voice that stirred the butterflies that had otherwise been numbed and placated by the booze.

Your eyes traced the depth of her body as she stood in front of the mirror. It was like you weren't even there as she removed her sweater. Talking about wanting to make out for him and not for you. It hurt. It hurt like a bitch hearing her spit those words as she disregarded the feelings you harbored for her. Feelings you'd teasingly revealed on multiple occasions. She just laughed them off every time.

"Well, it can be a little for me," you muttered into the void. She was selfish. Conniving as she kneed down on the floor and leaned over. Smile so playful yet you knew the meaning it held. You knew why she was doing this. Not for you. Not even a little for you. Not even for him. It was for her. All of it part of a plan you hadn't quite pieced together yet.

"How's this?" the smile never faltered as her eyes glazed over with quiet mischief.

"Yeah, good" your voice felt like it was giving out as you clung to the neck of the bottle. Your heart felt heavy. All sorts of scenarios flashing through your brain. Innocent, nasty, foul, vile, pure. All across the spectrum you could taste every little bit of longing and yearning. Yearning to be her girl. Cairo's girl.

"Your turn," she commented dismissively as you stood on your knees fumbling with the fabric of your shirt. That eery smile never left her face as you lifted your arms and she finished lifting the shirt over your head. You were a fool willingly walking into her trap. Her fool. Cairo's fool.

Your shirt hadn't been off your body for more than a second and she was already reaching for your phone. The fluorescent light bright and damning. The only witness to the events unraveling in her dark room.

She asserted her dominance as you awkwardly moved your body. You weren't used to this. Even if you were a fool for her, you were always the leader. The free spirit. Wild child. The one that told her what to do. Led her into the darkest parts of your friendship. You didn't know she possessed such power. Didn't know she possessed the ability to be just as dark, if not more.

Her delicate fingers brushed along your neck as she held the phone up. Light shining on your glistening faces. Eyes dazed and lips laced with liquor. This was your moment. This was happening right now. You allowed yourself to be led astray by the impure motivations of your best friend. Your eyes traced the curves of her face. Lips perfectly plump. Freckles scattered across her cheeks and the entirety of her face. Her beautifully crafted face.

When she turned to look at you. She smiled so sweetly almost as if she was reassuring you that this was all okay. That this was normal. That there were no ulterior motives to her actions. When she smiled so tenderly, you shied away looking down and feeling flushed.

"Ready?" she asked almost enthusiastically. There were no need for words. No need for confirmation. You'd been ready. You'd been ready for years. All that time you'd spent yearning and hiding your desire for your best friend had all accumulated to this moment. Even if her intentions were skewed. Even if she wasn't doing this for you. She was only centimeters away as you breathed each other's air.

Like a fool rushing in, you were the first to lean in. She stood still, her cunning smile fading as your lips ghosted over hers. Her lips parted, tongue peeking through her teeth as your lips hesitantly tested the limits of this moment. Was it happening? Was this real? Would she pull away and shove your shoulder like she'd done so many other times?

No.

No, she leaned in capturing your lips in what would result in a heated kiss. Your lips molded together so perfectly. Desperately connecting and reconnecting. Bottom lip shifting to top lip. Hands tentatively touching her waist feeling the scratchy nylon of her tights. Her hand cradled the back of your head as she snapped the photo. You were too enthralled by her embrace to notice.

When she dropped the phone, your arm wrapped around her shoulders. The kiss never faltering. Her arm hooked under yours pulling you closer. Hand still cradling your head as you leaned into her wanting to explore every inch of her mouth.

As you separated for a brief second, the only thing that held you together was the string of saliva that quickly snapped when she held your face pulling you in for another kiss. This one lacking purpose. Just lips molding. Tongues touching. Heads turning and humming and whimpering and bodies leaning into each other with desperation.

When you held the back of her head it was like something in her snapped. She pushed you away suddenly with a deadly stare. You came down with a painful cry. Watching her with wild eyes trying to decipher what happened. Did you do something wrong?

"Get on the bed," she huffed getting to her feet and wiping her lips. She paced to the opposite side of the bed as you nodded. Eyes big like a lost puppy as pulled your body on to the mattress. Hands nervously resting near your belly button as you swallowed.

When she stood at the foot of the bed she stared at you like a hunter spotting its prey. Eyes wide and hungry. Lips scrunched with anger? Nose crinkling as she palmed the bed frame. Knuckles white. You were holding your breath with anticipation as she inhaled and pounced.

Her ring clad fingers grabbing your legs as she pulling them over the edge of the bed. Black fingernails digging into your hips as she harshly tugged on the underwear yanking them down your legs before discarding them on the floor. She watched you closely. Eyes piercing through your soul as she got on her knees. Hands parting your legs as they draped over her shoulders.

There was a warmth to her breathing as she hovered near your sensitive throbbing core. It filled you chills. Shivering as you furled your fingers around the bed sheets, swallowing with anticipation. When her tongue brushed between your folds, you gasped and lifted your chest off the mattress.

The inexplicable feeling filled you with the heat of a thousand suns. She was your sun. Hot between your legs. Tongue wet exploring the most intimate part of your body. A part reversed for only the worthy and in your mind, who else was more worthy than her?

All the nights you'd spent talking about losing your virginities, it was here. Not in the way you'd expected and not in the way you'd discussed but in its own sweet - Cairo Sweet - way.

She lapped your pussy so marvelously for someone who claimed they'd never been with a girl before. When her tongue pierced through your entrance, a guttural moan escaped your body and reached down for her hair. Fingers tangling in her messy brown hair before pushing the hair out of her face. Her eyes were open. Piercing as you made eye contact. As your brows furrowed and your lips remained parted spewing curses and moans so sweet on your tongue because it was she who was responsible.

When her lips wrapped around your clit and sucked so gently, you caved. Your legs were shaking and closing in around her head. Your fingers pulled on her hair and pushed her face down closer to your cunt. Desperate moans and pleas spilled from your lips as she pulled you closer to the edge. Forcing you to jump when a single finger played with your sensitive entrance. The bundle of nerves unraveled on her lips as you convulsed and shut your eyes as you felt the electricity spark through your body.

Her soft lips dragged along your torso leaving a trail coated by your arousal as she inched closer to your covered breasts. She hummed as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Heart beating quickly. Legs quivering and hands clinging to her back. She bit down on your covered nipple and you cried out digging your nails into her back wanting to mark her. If not Cairo's girl, then she could be yours. Your girl.

Her tongue ran across your breast all the way up the side of your neck. Licking the shell of your ear where she breathed so seductively you were struggling to memorize every last little detail of what you'd happened.

"Thank you," you cowered still so totally helpless under her control and unaware of what else to say in this situation.

"So polite," she breathed in your ear. Hot and bothered. The stirring in your loins burning hot once again.

"Never seen you be so polite," she teased taking your wrists before pulling your arms over above head. Gasping, you looked at her innocently. Her hair cascaded down her shoulders as her nose brushed yours. Her lips so close you longed to taste them again. Longed to taste yourself on her tongue.

"Such a good girl for me," she whispered planting her body and straddling your waist as you whimpered. She knew exactly what to say. She knew exactly how to say it.

A good girl. A good girl for her. Cairo Sweet's sweet girl.

[woewriting]

impure

pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: even the most honest, kind-hearted can be corrupted by evil — especially if it has brown eyes, freckles and a breathtaking smile. word count: 1180 warnings: mdni, +18 only! implied sex, very brief smut at the end, blasphemy (?), nonlinear narrative. every line in italic is a quote by frederick nietzsche. 

this one is for you, @wesstars | masterlist

As Nietzsche once said: “if you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you.” 

That's how it felt to stare into your eyes for Cairo — she could see all your demons, fighting the urge to escape from the depths of your mind and release their chaos into the unknown world. It was fascinating, daring even, to unveil each creature that gazed back at her when your eyes met for a hot second in the middle of the crowded classroom. And when you quoted the first sentence of said quote, with dark eyes craved on hers, a grin drew on her lips.

“He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster.” Your voice was low, matching the sound of your high heels stomping on the wooden tiles, following a pace that, somehow, was synchronized with the beat of your heart. 

Everything about you seemed well-placed, from the glasses that always slipped to the tip of your nose, forcing you to push the dark frame up every five minutes, to the white blouse that never carried a single wrinkle in the soft fabric; Cairo wanted to run her hands up and down your biceps when you brushed slightly against her as you returned to the front of the class. Even the chalk writing on the board behind you was perfect, rounded, and easy to understand. 

Hell! It didn't even look like you had troubles in your life, almost as if you were friends with all the demons screaming inside your head. 

There was only one that threatened to take over your muscles and move your body by itself, making you walk to the young writer that always sat at the first row, paying attention to every single movement of your body with curious eyes, staring at the window of your soul. The alluring brownish of her long hair created a delicate aura around her as the noon sun cracked through the big windows.

She was angelical, with freckles sprinkled all over her skin like the stars painted by Van Gogh, a dimple that came followed by an astounding smile. Yet, she was the devil. Forcing you to sin as you dropped to your knees to adore her; it was forceful, corrupt, making you ache as your mouth ran up and down her tasty body, thirsty, desperate. 

Cairo Sweet felt like heaven, but had a soul that was grabbed from hell and thrown into the body of a girl that craved the world, to be known, to take everything she could from everyone she touched. 

And you weren't different. At first, her greediness was subtle, well hidden under the facade of a lovely girl. You thought she was a “teacher's pet” — as your professor told you in one of his “preparation class” before you replaced him for the month as a graduation test, but the young writer was more than that, she was eager to please you, be it with her aggressive writing or with fingers deep inside you. 

Sometimes it felt like she was the test, and you would only succeed if you survive the storm that was Cairo Sweet.

When you fell on her bed for the first time, it felt like Lucifer descending from heaven, and Cairo was your personal hell. She smoldered against your fingertips, with gray smoke leaving her mouth at every word of euphoria, sliding her tongue against your lips with a carnal desire that consumed her more and more at every sob that left your mouth. 

The second time was excruciating. It melted your skin in a way that made you feel like it was written on your forehead all of your dirtiest sins, with the same perfection of your calligraphy and in every language so that all eyes on you were because of that. 

Cairo was charming, with her knowledge and way with words, leaving you in awe every time she asked your opinion or answered one of your questions, effortlessly expressing her vision of the world — there's not a single poet, writer, or philosopher that's not been read by her brilliant mind. 

Her favorite at the moment was Friedrich Nietzsche. For her, his view of the world was admiring, appalling. It's like he knew about the demons everyone constantly fought against, burying them deeper inside our core to prevent them from leashing them out in the open. 

Little did you know, it was because of you. Because of the way your eyes lit up at the mention of his name. 

While Cairo was a demon with an angel-like face, you were the opposite; with your dark clothes fitting perfectly on your curves and rough voice that always dropped one octave when you whispered her name like a prayer every morning for the past month. When you smiled, she could see the gentleness dripping like water from you, the patient you had with the students had her dumbstruck, looking at you with her chin resting on her hands, the cloth of her blouse itching her skin when you leaned forward to help a stupid classmate that only wanted to smell your perfume, leaning closer to your body as you calmly explained the most obvious subject, and that stupid smile on your face made it even harder for her to not clench her jaw over and over until you returned to your desk to finish today's reading. 

When you fell the third time, it left a stain that wouldn't disappear from the cotton sheets — the white wings of a fallen angel, burned in black soot, fully corrupted and taken. This time it was brutal, lewd, and enticing with a small portion of a euphoric hunger. She savored you on her tongue with a devilishly smile tugging the corner of her lips, crawling up your body like the scarabs that loved Cairo, following her like a deity. 

“Is man one of God’s blunders, or is God one of man’s blunders?” She asked, pressing her lips on your neck while her warm hands found your chest. 

“I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time.” Your answer came in between a catch of breath, eyes closed and head thrown back against the soft pillow, nails digging deeper into her back, bruising the skin with long, red lines that stung.

“If I was a God, would you praise me?” 

“I would adore you with every ruthlessly beautiful word known by mankind.” 

With your hands firm on her waist, you pushed her to the side, fitting yourself in between her legs. Taking a deep breath turned your eyes darker than they already were; what a bewitching view it was to have you worshiping her, with lips glistening and a firm hand on her lower abdomen as you traced the stretch marks on her inner thighs with the tip of your tongue before running it up and down her slit, trying to keep her body from smearing the soot of your wings as a remain of the innocence the devil stole from you in the most graceful way possible.

[paxtito]

forbidden

pairings: cairo x fem!reader

word count: 2120

warnings: smut 18+, swearing, cunilingus, strap-on

summary: you've gotten yourself tangled in a love affair with your father's top student

a/n: this is a filler so don’t mind the length- also credits to whoever requested that one cairo bot!

MASTERLIST | BOT

The dorm room is quiet, save for the muffled sounds of the campus settling down for the night. You fumble with your keys, a quiet sigh escaping your lips as you push open the door. It’s been a long day—one full of stolen glances, hushed conversations, and the constant weight of secrecy pressing on your shoulders.

You flick on the light, and your heart skips a beat.

There she is.

Cairo Sweet, perched on the edge of your bed, her legs crossed casually, her hands resting on the quilt your mother sent last semester. She’s still in her uniform from earlier, though the loosened tie and unbuttoned top collar give her an air of reckless confidence. That signature cheeky grin of hers—equal parts playful and infuriating—greets you as if she has every right to be here.

“Miss me?” she teases, tilting her head just so, the dim light catching the mischief in her eyes.

You close the door behind you, leaning back against it for a moment. “Cairo,” you say, your voice a mix of surprise and exasperation. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugs, feigning innocence as she leans back on her hands, her posture lazy but intentional. “Thought I’d pay my favorite person a visit. Is that a crime?”

“It is when you sneak into my dorm,” you retort, though there’s no real heat behind your words.

Cairo’s grin widens, and she pushes herself to her feet with a slow, deliberate grace. “Relax,” she murmurs, stepping closer. “No one saw me. Besides,” her voice drops slightly, low and teasing, “don’t pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

You bite your lip, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing the way your heart is racing. “Cairo, we’ve talked about this,” you begin, your voice quieter now.

“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupts, rolling her eyes playfully. “We shouldn’t. It’s dangerous. Your dad’s my teacher. Believe me, I’ve got the speech memorized.”

“And yet, here you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

She steps closer still, and now you can smell the faint traces of her perfume, something warm and sweet that lingers in the air between you. “Here I am,” she agrees, her voice soft but still teasing. “Because I can’t stay away.”

Your resolve wavers under the weight of her gaze, and she knows it. Cairo always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in ways no one else ever has.

“You’re going to get us caught,” you whisper, though the words feel weak even as you say them.

Cairo's eyes sparkle with mischief as she takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "So what if we do?" she murmurs, her voice a low purr. "Live a little, Y/N. Life's too short to play by all the rules."

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Cairo always has this effect on you—making you question everything you thought you knew, making you want things you know you shouldn't.

"I... I don't know," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that simple."

Cairo's hand comes up to cup your cheek, her touch gentle but electric. "It is that simple," she breathes, her face inches from yours. "It's just you and me, Y/N. The rest of the world can fall away."

You lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. God, it would be so easy to give in, to let her sweep you away on this tide of forbidden desire. But...

You lean into Cairo's touch, letting out a shaky breath.

 Fuck it. 

Your resolve crumbles under the intensity of her gaze.

"Cairo..." you murmur, your voice heavy with want.

A triumphant smirk curves her lips before she closes the remaining distance, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. Her fingers tangle in your hair, tugging lightly as she deepens the kiss, her tongue teasing along your bottom lip.

You melt into her, your hands coming up to grip her waist, pulling her flush against you. The heat of her body seeps through the thin fabric of her uniform, igniting a fire deep in your core.

Cairo's hands roam over your body with a new urgency, her nails digging lightly into your skin through your shirt. She breaks the kiss, panting softly, her eyes dark with desire.

"Touch me," she breathes, her voice low and needy. "I want to feel your hands on me, Y/N."

You comply eagerly, your fingers slipping beneath her shirt to explore the smooth expanse of her back. Cairo arches into your touch, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"Just like that," she pants, her hips grinding against yours. "Don't hold back, baby. I can take it."

You lose yourself in the sensation of her, in the taste of her, in the way she makes you feel alive in a way no one else ever has. Cairo is a force of nature, wild and unpredictable, and being with her feels like standing on the edge of a cliff, dizzying and exhilarating all at once.

As your hands roam lower, skimming over the curve of her ass, Cairo lets out a low groan. "Mmm, yes," she hisses, her hips bucking forward. "You know just how to touch me, don't you?"

The knowledge that you make her feel this good, that you can unhinge her so completely, sends a rush of power straight to your head. You nip at her bottom lip, relishing the way she whimpers in response.

"Fuck, Y/N," Cairo gasps, her fingers fisting in your hair. "I need you. Right now."

You don't hesitate, sweeping her up into your arms and carrying her the short distance to your bed. You lay her down gently, taking a moment to admire the sight of her spread out before you, her chest heaving, her skin flushed with desire.

Cairo watches you with hooded eyes as you slowly undress her, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Each piece of clothing you remove reveals more of her smooth, tanned skin, and you can't help but trail your fingers along her newly exposed flesh, mapping out every curve and dip.

"Y/N," she whispers, her voice thick with need. "Please, I want to feel you."

You obey, your hands and mouth worshipping every inch of her body as you work your way down. Cairo arches into your touch, her fingers tangled in your hair, urging you on.

By the time you reach her hips, she's practically shaking with anticipation. You hook your fingers in the waistband of her panties, drawing them down slowly, teasingly.

"Fuck, baby," Cairo groans, spreading her legs wider, inviting you in. "I need you so bad."

You don't make her wait any longer, diving in eagerly, your tongue hot and wet and perfect against her most sensitive parts. Cairo cries out, her back arching off the bed, her fingers tightening in your hair almost painfully.

"Yes, fuck yes," she pants, her hips bucking against your face. "Just like that, don't stop."

You double down your efforts, licking and sucking and teasing until Cairo is a writhing, incoherent mess beneath you, her thighs trembling and her breath coming in sharp, desperate gasps.

"I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna come," she warns, her voice strangled. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

You redouble your efforts, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until finally, with a scream of your name, she comes undone, her body shaking and convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

You work her through it, gentling your touch as the aftershocks fade, until finally, she collapses back onto the bed, spent and sated.

You crawl up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. "Was that good for you, baby?" you murmur, nipping at her bottom lip.

Cairo hums contentedly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. "Mmm, that was incredible," she purrs, her voice low and sultry. "But don't think we're done yet. I'm far from satisfied."

You reach for your nightstand with trembling hands, fumbling for your trusty strap-on. In your haste, you knock over a lamp, sending it clattering to the floor.

"Whoops!" you exclaim, stifling a laugh. "Graceful as always."

Cairo watches with hooded eyes as you fumble with the strap-on harness, your fingers clumsy in your haste. She bites her lip, trying to hold back a laugh at your determined expression.

"Eager, are we?" she teases, propping herself up on her elbows.

"Shut up," you mutter, finally getting the harness secured around your hips. You turn to face her, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I'm going to rock your world, Sweet."

Cairo rolls her eyes, even as a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. "Big words for someone who can't even put on a strap-on without help."

You narrow your eyes, stalking towards the bed. "Oh, I'll show you big, alright."

Cairo's laughter dissolves into a moan as you descend upon her, your hands and mouth mapping the contours of her body. You take your time, savoring every inch of her, until she's writhing beneath you, desperate for more.

"Please," she gasps, her hips lifting off the bed. "I need you inside me."

You smirk, reaching for the lube. "Patience, baby. Good things come to those who wait."

Cairo groans, burying her face in the pillow. "You're such a tease."

You just chuckle, coating the strap-on liberally. "And you love it."

Her only response is a muffled moan of agreement. You line yourself up, pushing forward slowly, sinking into her welcoming heat inch by delicious inch.

"Fuck," Cairo whimpers, her hands fisting in the sheets. "You feel so good."

You set a steady rhythm, losing yourself in the slide of your bodies, in the slick sounds of your lovemaking. Cairo meets you thrust for thrust, her nails raking down your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

The strap-on rubs deliciously against your own sensitive parts with each deep thrust, the pressure building steadily. You grit your teeth, fighting the urge to let go, determined to make this last for Cairo.

"That's it, baby," you growl, angling your hips just so. "Take it all."

Cairo keens, her head thrashing on the pillow, her body trembling beneath you. "Harder," she demands, her voice ragged. "Fuck me harder, Y/N."

You oblige, snapping your hips forward, driving into her with renewed vigor. The bed creaks in protest, the headboard slamming against the wall, but you're too lost in the heat of the moment to care.

Cairo's moans grow louder, more desperate, her body clenching around the strap-on like a vice. "I'm close," she gasps, her eyes squeezing shut. "So fucking close."

You can feel your own orgasm building, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your core. "Me too," you pant, your rhythm starting to falter. "Come with me, Cairo. Now."

With a final, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, grinding against her sweet spot. Cairo screams, her body convulsing around you as she comes apart, milking the strap-on for all it's worth.

The sensation is too much, pushing you over the edge with her. You throw your head back, a guttural moan tearing from your throat as you find your own release, your hips jerking erratically.

For a long moment, you both remain locked in each other's embrace, panting harshly, your sweat-slicked bodies pressed together. Slowly, you come back to yourself, the post-orgasmic haze receding.

You pull out carefully, collapsing beside Cairo on the bed. She immediately curls into your side, her head resting on your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

"That was amazing," she murmurs, her voice soft and sated.

You reach down, fumbling with the straps of the harness with clumsy fingers. It takes a few tries, but finally, you manage to unbuckle the straps, the harness falling away from your hips.

Cairo lifts her head, watching you with a lazy smile. "Need some help there, sexy?" she teases, reaching out to trail a finger along your hip.

You shoot her a half-hearted glare, even as a smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. "I've got it," you mutter, tossing the harness aside carelessly.

Cairo just chuckles, settling back down on the pillows. "Alright, alright, I won't mock your struggle-bus hands."

You roll your eyes, flopping down beside her with a huff. "You're a brat."

"And you love it," she retorts, nuzzling into your neck.

You can't argue with that, your arms coming up to wrap around her waist, holding her close. For a moment, you just bask in the afterglow, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat, the soft whisper of her breath against your skin.

[fandomnerd9602]

Cairo: stop looking at me like that

Y/N: you first. You’ve been eyeing me up like a predator does its prey

Cairo: make me

Y/N: I would…but I kinda like your staring

Cairo: you’re terrible

Y/N: so are you. Which is why we’re perfect for each other

Cairo blushes, biting her lip…

Cairo; I think I found my muse

Y/N: amusing

[blueycarpenter]

little star

Ever since Cairo submitted her midterm assignment, things haven't been the same between you two.

fandom: MILLER'S GIRL (2024) content: x reader a/n: i had posted this on a previous account, in case it looks familiar

Cairo hadn’t been herself lately. You two had talked for hours for the past couple of weeks. You had grown closer and more intimate with each other. Then, all of the sudden, everything changed.

Cairo wasn’t around anymore. She never called or wrote. It was ever since she turned in her midterm assignment for Mr. Miller that ties had been cut. Due to her tight deadlines, you two had agreed not to see each other until after she had finished the midterm, but it had been 3 days since the due date… She had been a ghost.

You called Winnie that morning—the dawn of the 4th day after. She explained the discord that had accumulated and how Cairo had taken the beating to heart. But she was the strongest person you had ever met. She couldn’t be broken.

Could she?

Winnie had said a lot of things. 

Cairo was emotional. Cairo was resentful. Cairo was heartbroken. Cairo was alive, at least.

No more alive than the works she’d create from a blinking cursor, the lead of a pencil, or the ink of a pen, though. She’d masterminded such beauty that reflected nothing but the world around her. Though when she had unlatched the door to let the monsters in, the rain poured and the lightning struck. 

You weren’t as talented a writer as she was, but who could be? Between those paragraphs of literacy and media was blood. It was a rich kind of blood that lured you to Cairo Sweet in the first place. It was reckless and mysterious, but you’d never felt more grounded before you laid eyes on her. Heard her speak… Learned her heart… And you missed that more than everything.

Was there Sweet to her name anymore? Or was there just Cairo? 

Winnie said Cairo had been alone. She said she had wanted to be alone.

But alone meant misery and displacement. Defeat and loneliness. Longing and torture. And Cairo didn’t deserve that. You didn’t care what she’d done or what she didn’t do. She was your north star. She shone brighter than anything you’d ever known, and therefore, nothing could ever change that.

So, you showed up to her house after that 6 AM phone call with Winnie Black. You needed to see her. Not just because you missed her more than anything, but because you couldn’t bear the thought of her discouraging her potential and honesty. Not in her wondrous existence.

Cairo didn’t fear anything, you’d learned, so you let yourself in and found her sitting in the darkness of her room, three cigarette butts on the floor and her journal open on the bed. Through the shadows, you found the top of her head over the other side of the bed. “Cairo?”

She didn’t move a muscle, but she did answer. “If you’ve come to talk, don’t bother. I’ve heard enough, and the sincerity I’ve expressed has been more than society is willing to tolerate. Honesty is feared by many. It’s tragic and hateful, yet it’s a quality that etiquette claims to be most valuable.” Then, she managed a wry scoff. “Hypocrites.” 

“Cairo, I don’t care what happened,” you replied. “I haven’t heard from you in days. I just missed you, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

She actually gave a laugh this time. “Aren’t I?”

As convincing as she may seem to other people, you had learned her better than most, because you had to figure her out the hard way, through phone calls and communication of words, not expressions. You didn’t have to see her face to determine how she truly felt. You could hear it. Dare you say, you could feel it. 

There was a tear in her voice as she spoke. And it led you rounding the bed to find her knees up, while she stared at the wall ahead. Those beautiful eyes were slow, like shards of obsidian as they raised to meet yours without a blink.

“Y/N…”

You dropped to your knees and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t reciprocate, but you held her for everything you were worth. You rested your cheek against her head, your fingers gently pulling the small tangles from her hair and your other hand corralling her back, clutching her shirt like she was going to disappear into the darkness. “Cairo, listen to me…” you whispered. Her warm breath filtered through your shirt. “I don’t care what anyone says. About you… About me… About anything… You are the greatest soul anyone could ever dream of having in their school, in their class, in their life, in anything.”

A warm, damp feeling found its way to your collarbone, and you knew it was tears. And all of the sudden, her weight was recognizable against your embrace. She felt so small in your arms that didn’t even hold all of her. It was the first time you realized just how petite she was for an 18 year-old girl with an extraordinary personality. “You know, to me… you’re above everything in this world. I’ve only seen people wander the earth, dreaming of what it’d be like to fly, but you… you fly, Cairo. You’re that star in the sky everyone dreams of being.” Your chest ached from how serious those words coming from your heart were. You then lifted your head to place a loving kiss to hers, because just holding her wasn’t enough anymore. 

Cairo sniffled, but didn’t say anything. However, she had managed to unbend her legs to hold you against her. And when you gently pulled away to have her look up at you and you, down at her, the wet streaks against her cheeks shimmered in the halflight.

You wiped them away and gave her a small smile. “Beautiful…” You kissed her forehead. “Magical…” You kissed her cheek. “Wonderful, you are.” The next place you were dying to heal with your lips caught your eyes, though it was merely small motions of your irises. Instead, you brushed her hair aside and pressed your foreheads together. Her eyes shut and for a moment, she looked peaceful as you finished with, “Yes, you are…”

She opened her eyes, now only tainted with a thin gloss. But then she managed the smallest, sweetest smile you’d ever seen. Her Cairo Sweet smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice only a little above a whisper, mostly steady but with the slightest crack.

“It’s true,” you whispered back. Seeing her small smile was enough for you to give her your own, though yours was out of admiration, pride, and love. She truly was a star. 

She was your little star.

Then, her smile faded and she glanced away. It was almost shy, which surprised you. “Y/N?” Her voice grew a little stronger.

“Mm-hmm?” Whatever she wanted was hers.

“Kiss me.”

There was no hesitation as you granted her wish. Little did she know though, it was your wish too. You had wished upon a star, because that was the old saying. Wishing on a star was a chance that didn’t come often, especially when that one star was a shooting star. Yet, it hadn’t passed you up, and there was no way in hell you were going to pass it up.

Cairo’s lips were soft, but you could tell there were stories imprinted on them. They weren’t ex-stories, per se, but they were mysteries that you wondered how hard they would be to solve. How many pages would you have to read to uncover them? How much would she have to write to reveal them?

Only time would tell. But every journey starts somewhere.

And the best had a star to guide them.

[raccoonsface]

Masterlist

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Soooo I might’ve done a thing where I lost two of my accounts… oopsie? Don’t get mad on me now though

All characters 18+ in fics. I will write fluff, anger, smut, almost anything tbh.

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____________——————————____________

Jenna Ortega

“New Bodyguard…huh” Part 2 Discontinued

Jealous Baby

A Drabble..?

You’re Mine…

#1 Snaps #2

Tara Carpenter

“T-Tara?” Part 2 Part 3 Coming Soon

Vada Cavell

It’s a Classic

Cairo Sweet

“Oh God!”

Billie Eilish

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So if you’re new here I’m linking from my old account for some of them. I’m promise I’m not stealing content from anybody. My old account was @raccoonface

Pls request if you want a specific fic, I will make it when I have the time (faster than most fics I do (hopefully))

I hope you have an amazing day, or had an amazing day!

———————_________________———————

[2thamax]

Cairo Sweet Hc

SFW

You fell first, she fell harder

Enemies to lovers

Loves attention on her

Manipulates to get what she wants (A/N: I can fix her trust)

At school, she’ll pull you into some closet and suddenly make out for a few minutes then pulls you out again with no explanation

When you’re angry at her, she’ll just give you her doe eyes you just forgive you on the spot

Binge watches Grey’s Anatomy

90% of your time is spent with her, either in her house or anywhere but with her

Love languages : Words of Affirmations , Physical Touch , Quality Time

NSFW

Switch (rarely a bottom)

Will edge you for hours if you piss her off

You guys fuck almost all the time

The hate fucks go CRAZY

Makes you read her favorite book word for word as she gives you head and every time you mess up a word, she’ll deny your release

Receiver and Gives

She’ll whisper degrades or praises (depends on the situation)

Likes to go a moderate pace

Late night sex fs

A/N : went a little bold with this one lol . Thanks you guys so much for the support!! If you have tips, just click the “ask” button 🫶🫶🫶

[bobbin-buckley]

Some Secrets Are Meant To Stay Veiled

-Cairo Sweet x Masc!Fem!Reader Series-

Summary: Some secrets are just meant to be veiled even if those whom are under the veil unlock them accidentally. Rather to be under forced marriage or run away and fight the unstoppable? A story between Reader and Princess Cairo are to find and unravel this forgotten secret. Sacrifices are to be made.

Warnings: Medieval violence, blood, war, trauma, death, homophobia, sexual mentions, swords, weapons, cursing, R is G!P

Chapters⬇️

-Chapter 1: Family Issues

[honorarysimp]

Wicked Games

Summary: Money. Tangible, brittle, and the poison that taints your essence. Out in the wilds of nowhere, Tennessee, isolation can either make or break you. A summer home for you, an escape from your reality, the only place that’s ever granted you someone who understands your sick mind. And when she comes to your aid on a corrupt conquest for debaucher, who are you to deny the only friend you’ve ever had?

Pairing: Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: mature language, mentions of unsettling and disturbing events, adultery, mentions of depression and anxiety, childhood trauma and abuse, mental/verbal manipulation, substance abuse, violence, angst, slowburn; suggestive themes(18+)

AN: requested by anon, and after some soul searching, I give you this warped piece of literature signatured by my usual twists.

~Masterlist~

[ajortga]

i bet on losing dogs

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: in which cairo's obsession for mr. miller drifts you two further apart, and you can't do anything about it.

word count: 4.2k+

warnings: angsty (not proud of it) toxic cairo, mentions of sex, mentions of teacher/student relationships

based off request!

-

Hey... Can I have a request?! Cairo Sweet x Fem!Reader

"I'm done waiting for you, Cairo."

Credits to: urfriendlywriter

-

Cairo was.. Honestly, you didn’t know how to explain to her. That’s just exactly how to describe her. She was indescribable. 

One moment in a day would you be like the teenage girl you are, in love. The beat in your heart would race, fluttering in your chest as she bit the eraser on her pencil, looking at you with eyes that made your legs feel like mush.

Then, another day you would feel hopeless. Helpless. Because the beautiful brown-eyed girl would leave you in the dust. 

She would sweep you off your feet, but never care enough to really catch you. Maybe that’s why you kept going back. To feel the thrill, to be loved for just a little moment with the girl you’ll love no matter what happens. 

But you had no cure, because she was so contagious. Addictive. She was like a drug that you couldn’t get enough of, yet there was no cure to make you stop. Cairo Sweet. It was in her name. Her genes. She was so syrupy sweet, you just couldn’t help it. You were too blinded to think properly. 

The amount of times Cairo swept your feet, you grew tired. Tired of her games, of her love that began to come off as a hoax. As much as you’d want to holler it out loud, you couldn’t say you were tired of her. Never. 

The countless moments where you were left in the dust, the rain. No seriously, the rain. 

-

“I’ll be there!” Cairo smiles, your grin wide. “I just need to discuss the essay for my final to Mr. Miller real quick. It should only take 8 minutes max.” The girl assures, rubbing your shoulder as you two e spend our lunch together. You lean into it. A part of you now wishes you could’ve changed it. Maybe you’d feel better not feeling the stabbing pain in your stomach.

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I can’t wait to work on that project with you! I think we’ll amaze her with our studies, then after you can spend the night and we can have ice cream!”

She laughs.

You can’t stop looking at her eyes. Syrupy sweet, not a hint of hesitance. She lifts a cigarette to her mouth, a soft smile on her face. Cairo nods, “We’ll outsmart the whole class with someone as smart as you,” she gives your nose a little boop with her finger before the bell rings.

Quickly, she packs her bags, stopping to look at you from time to time as she stuffs papers in it. Your eyes filled with expression, it comforts her to see the happiness that shines through them. It makes her smile too. 

..

The bell had rang, echoing through the hallways as the doors of classrooms slam open. The empty, hollow hallway is now bustling with everyone chattering and speaking to each other, giggling and laughing.

Winnie is by your side, the wavy hair girl walking with your arm linked to hers. “Cairo seems so into her final for Mr. Miller, don’t you think so?” She has the slightest accent, you slowly nod. 

“I guess so. She is a writer after all. Not to mention a talented one.” You go through the exits of Tennessee’s high school, stopping at one of the benches right at the exit. “I’m waiting here for Cairo, we’re going to finish our project, adding all the important stuff.” Winnie nods, handing you a lollipop as you take it. “Thanks.”

“See you, Y/N!”

You give her a small wave, watching her leave. 

…

It had been ten minutes since the bell rang, the students slowly beginning to die out. You’d call your mom once Cairo would come, you liked having conversations with her anyway. Chatters of students still quietly linger. You stand up, peeking through the gates, they’re closed.

Thirty minutes pass and a sigh escapes your lips, bored. Maybe Cairo is just having more questions to ask, like she always does. You plop the lollipop that Winnie gave you into your mouth, stuffing the wrapper in your jacket. 

It had been officially an hour and four minutes. You don’t even know why you waited this long. As if it couldn’t get any worse, rain begins to drizzle down, damping your hair. For the first time, Cairo left you out there, in the rain. You stare at your phone, gripping it so tightly that your knuckles spread to white. You try to wait for a text, anything so Cairo makes it aware that she’d be a little late, but it never comes. 

You call your mom, sniffling as you press your ear to the phone, kicking your feet across a puddle. You wipe your eyes, 

By the time your mom honks, waving you with a smile on your face, you weakly give one back, walking up to her. Wet clothes stuck to your figure, drenched and shaking. The look on her face gives it all, your mother sees through you no matter what. 

“Hi, honey. Where’s Cairo? Didn’t you say that she was going to come to ours today?”

You stiffen, throwing your soaked backpack in the backseat. Cairo didn’t even live that far. She always walks to school. “She’s busy,” you reply, turning away from her. You look out the window, sinking into your seat. “Like always.”

“But didn’t you two have that project, it’s due tomorrow, no?”

“Well she can’t make it, okay?” You mumble.

“Oh, well maybe she can come over some other time,” she leaves it at that. 

The more you think about Cairo, the more you feel sick, the lollipop disintegrated in your mouth.

You can’t help but feel the sweetness of the lollipop leave a new awful taste in your mouth. Your mouth fills with saliva, how it always does whenever you are upset. You swallow it down.

You did almost the whole project by yourself, you were up till 2AM.

So when school arrives the next day, you’re barely awake, turning it in and tired eyes completely avoiding Cairo’s gaze.

“8 minutes my ass,” you mutter while slamming the project into the turn-in basket.

-

From that day on, it just kept happening.

Like always, you somehow always manage to come back to Cairo. You can’t help it. To turn away those doe-like eyes makes you feel like you just murdered an innocent creature. 

Cairo Sweet. 

Sourness coats your tongue when her name rolls off of it. 

After countless stand-ups and sobbing in bed, even when you forgive her, you can sense that you two are drifting further apart. She’s been snapping at you a little more often, ignoring you sometimes, it makes you feel unloved. You don’t like it. You really don’t like it, yet you can’t stop it. 

“It’s that stupid final she’s doing, Winnie. Ever since Mr. Fucking Miller assigned to her, it’s like she hasn’t had time for anything. She only has the time when it comes to him, “ you rant, wiping your mascara stained eyes with your fingers. 

Winnie looks thoughtfully at you, a small frown tugging at her lips. She sighs, patting her thighs, “Come here, sweetheart.” 

When you crawl in between her and her comforter, she cuddles you. “Sometimes people are like that. They abandon things when they find a new thing to obsess over. Even when the things are the most important to them. It’s like they forget about what the thing did to make them feel so special and go running off to a new one because it makes them feel good.”

She strokes your hair as you sniffle into her neck. From her eyes, you looked so vulnerable. Like how you did when you first got into arguments with your parents. “I’m sure once that final is over, you two will be back into two peas in a pod. Three, including me at times,” she cracks a smile at you. 

You don’t respond, looking away, before mumbling, “Winnie, I don’t think it’s that final.”

“Yeah?”

“Cairo was writing about a prompt to answer what love was,” you look up at her, trying to make her understand. “I read some of it, and it was straight up smut, Winnie.”

You couldn’t believe it when you first read it. The way your eyebrows contorted, lips pursing into a tight line. You memorized one of the lines she wrote as you recited it out loud. “His fingers, long and ribbed, glistened with the arousal that gushed out of Alice’s heat like a riverbed-”

“Okay fuck that shit, who’s “he” exactly?”

“That’s the problem. It’s about a student-teacher relationship Winnie. The final isn’t the issue. She’s trying to convince herself that there's some connection between her and Mr. Miller.”

“That man is at least 80 years old-”

“50.”

“Whatever, but if Cairo is trying to experiment how far she can go with her charms. I’m going to be proud to take the trophy for who has the most reasonable crushes.”

“You cannot be talking right now Winnie.”

“Boris is a different story! But like, for anyone else, I’m an equal opportunist. I’d fuck you.”

“I know.”

“See, reasonable crushes.”

You roll your eyes, it doesn’t really make you feel better.

Winnie thinks for a moment, it’s silent, until you almost see a lightbulb flash above her head. “Cairo loves lantern festivals. She wouldn’t miss one for the world, what about this?..”

-

Your knee bounces up and down, waiting in your usual spot after school for Cairo. It’s the first bench under the tree. As you see her, you’re about to wave, until you see him. 

Mr. Miller walking Cairo out of his classroom, patting her shoulder before making eye contact with you briefly. You narrow your eyes as he gives a disgustingly sweet smile to her before turning away. You flip him off, like a fire burning behind your pupils.

Tell your baby that I'm your baby.

“Y/N!” she shouts, grinning as she walks up to you. “Hey!”

“Hi, Cairo.” you greet, offering to take her books, which she thanks.

“I’m almost done with my final essay for Mr. Miller. I think he’ll be able to write my letter of rec for college in the future. Probably going have to meet with him after school on some days.”

“Sounds fine,” you plainly respond, holding her books. “By the way, I was thinking that next Saturday we could spend some time together. Maybe Winnie can come too.”

The writer hums in contentment as you keep going, “I’ve never gone to a lantern festival before, and they’re holding one next week. It’s like 2 hours away and I really wanted to go with you.”

A flutter in your chest erupts as you see your favorite brown eyes shimmer. “Yeah,” she says, “Yes, I’d love to go with you!”

-

After the slow ticks of the clock and marks on the calendar, getting closer to the countdown, Saturday finally comes.

You hate the way it feels so long when you’re in school, waiting for the weekend, but it dashes by when summer break arrives. You especially hate it when you’re waiting for an event, it makes the time go by even slower.

Winnie kept patting your shoulder and teasing you about it. “Probably because you’re looking a bit too forward with spending time with Cairo.” She’d say. “I mean, I love lantern festivals! But you seem so much more excited than I am.”

An oversized tee gets draped over your figure, pairing it with blue jeans as you try to look decent before dashing out the house.

Your mom drives you, in which you're happily hoping to spend the night in Cairo’s bigger car. She told you she brought blankets and stuffies and everything. When you think about it, you grin through the refreshing breeze that blows in your hair.

“You seem extra happy, Sunshine,” your mom notices, smiling at you. “Just how I love you, always so bright.”

The afternoon sun illuminates through the city as minutes and hours pass, changing into a grassy meadow. You stick your head through the window, feeling alive every time the wind hits your hair. Everytime you close your eyes, you see the picture of endless floating lanterns lighting up the night sky. 

Like a scene out of Tangled.

You have to actually turn on the radio and sing your feelings out.

“Now she's here, shining in the starlight, Now she's here, suddenly I know. If she's here, it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go”

-

Two hours pass by, and you hop out of your mother’s car. “I’ll stay nearby, okay? Your aunt's house is only 25 minutes away.”

You nod, kissing her cheek goodbye as the clock hits 5:45. The grassy meadow surrounds you, slightly swaying from the breeze and glowing from the setting sun. You see people setting up their tents, so you lay down a towel and send Cairo a text.

y/n: hey! i’m here, i got us a seat. can’t wait to spend the night in your car!

Birds chirp along with the chatter of people around you. It soothes your body a little as you lean back and take a nap, your mind only on the excitement that you get to spend this moment with Cairo Sweet.

-

You wake up from the sound of fire crackling, your eyes adjusting to the lanterns that people are preparing to let go in about an hour and thirty, when the sun will completely set. The weather is cool, breezy, sunny, and the light blue sky plastered with fluffy clouds. You head to get some floating lanterns, noticing that Cairo isn’t here yet. Maybe it’s traffic.

A nagging feeling tugs in your gut as you hear the giggles of couples decorating the lanterns together.

As you head back with three large lanterns in your hand, you check your phone. No new messages, your shoulders fall to their sides, sighing.

“Y/N!” 

You immediately perk up from the call of your name, turning around and seeing Winnie, a bright smile on her face. You wave her over.

“Hi,” you say, looking at her hair that’s put down.

“Hey, cutie, what’s with the sour face?”

The silence is really all she needs as she goes, “Oh. She’s still not here? I thought I was really late.” That made you feel a little worse.

Cairo wouldn’t abandon you, sure she has canceled plans last minute thousands of times, or made you wait longer than usual, but not in the dark. Not in the dark knowing how much you looked forward to this. Your heart tugs again, your breath getting stuck in your throat.

It’s the same feeling your tiny self felt when your childhood best friend moved away, or a thousand times worse than realizing that the tooth fairy wasn’t real.

y/n: where r u? the festival is going to start soon.

Really hoping you’re not going to stand me up again, like the plenty of other times you did. You really wished you could have added that phrase.

6:30 and still no sign of her. You know you’ve cried like a little child because of her, you’ve tried to avoid her in every way possible. Yet no matter what, it always seems that the sweet girl you’ve known comes back to you moments later. 

She’s just running late. The tiny voice in your head says, to somehow calm your nerves down. Winnie squeezes your hand, urging you to decorate your lanterns together. So you force the growing lump in your throat with a painful swallow, nodding and beginning to draw flowers that somehow are Cairo’s favorite ones. “It’s going to be okay,” she softly coaxes, and you feel like crying into her arms. 

You really thought she wouldn’t do it this time. You really started to believe that she was good at heart for you. Maybe she could be. But you didn’t want to give her the chance anymore, you were officially drained.

The sunset envelopes you and Winnie in its eternal color of the sunshine, though the warm feeling is rather cold. Cold and ugly. You would’ve been used to it, but you drove 2 hours for her. You knew you could count on Winnie, but you traveled so far for Cairo to be able to spend time with her. Now it just seems like she’ll throw you away whenever Mr. Miller is around. 

-

She’ll talk about him almost anytime she can, it makes you feel insecure. Sometimes, you wish you could just shake her brain and tell her, “I’m right here.” You were there all along. You would be there when she needed it, but she was never there when you needed her. A moth to a flame.

Even when your heart cracks more and more, to love is to sacrifice, your broken hand is still holding on. Cairo is the only thing you’d ever know about love. 

Even when you tell yourself to get over it, to ignore her, you can’t help the way your heart turns into goo when she smiles at you. I won’t let go yet. You promise to yourself as she crashes her lips to yours, alcohol coating her tongue as you have the need for more. 

Take me, your heart sings as Cairo, drunk and wanting, tears the bottom of your blouse, the room filling with your breathy moans.

You need to let go, Your brain pounds against your forehead as you’re left in the dark of the movie theater, an empty seat next to you. A seat that was meant for your hand to hold hers.

Why do you manage to always forgive her? Believe that she’ll be “okay” this time? Why did you always let her in knowing that she would do the same thing once again?

-

7:30, the lanterns begin to lift off, your eyes half-lidded with unshed tears as you hold onto your floating lantern. Winnie turns to look at you, but you don’t look back, the small ember glistening against your glossy eyes. 

She was just late. She’d come. Your heart grows a little heavy.

“Hey,” she says softly, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “It’s going to be okay. Cairo is just stupid, she’s been stupid ever since Miller. But I don’t want to talk about her right now, okay? Let’s spend the night together and we’ll see what to do when it’s over.”

You still avoid eye contact, can you really just feel okay if someone tells you? That’s never worked for you.

A floating lantern symbolizes the hope of the moments ahead and being able to move on. To mark the start of a new beginning. Your eyes flicker to all the children with their family, smiling happily, the couples who are cuddling together as they prepare to let go of their lanterns. Every time you saw something like that, you thought of Cairo. You wondered if she ever thought of you.

I guess fate brought me here, you tell yourself. When your favorite person turns into a memory of a lesson. Gosh, you hated when you saw quotes like that, even worse now that you understood it with each tear that poured out of your eyes.

You cling onto the lantern like it’s the most important thing of your life as you shut your eyes. You think about Cairo, your best friend, someone that you always told yourself loved you. You hope she still did. Winnie feels your head placed on your shoulder as you finally let it go. Finally let her go as it flies away with the specks of others, lighting up the night sky. It was like a reminder that she was slipping away.

Tonight, you thought it would’ve ended differently as you watch it mix in with the glow of other lanterns, other wishes, other endings.

All those times you look into these eyes, even the ones that aren’t hers, you remember that her eyes that once admired you are gone. You’re watching her watching him.

You’re standing here, waiting for something that you knew for a long time might never come. Love’s a game of heartbreak. The latest you could do is slump down to the blanket and toss your body into Winnie’s, closing your eyelids and letting yourself relax. It was cold, yet you didn't bother to ask for a blanket.

“Y/N, baby. We gotta get going.” A voice, soft and sweet coaxes you awake. You're no longer on Winnie’s shoulder, but a lap that you know all too well. You scramble off of Cairo with your eyes wide, blinking, adjusting, before letting yourself cry.

Cairo hasn’t seen you cry in almost ages. Well you’ve never cried in front of her, but knowing that she stood you up again, arriving almost 3 hours later, it tells her a lot of how much you did when she wasn’t there. 

Her eyes look at yours that are closed, sniffle, “Hey, don’t cry. Why are you crying? I’m so sorry I missed this-”

“You’re never sorry!” You hiccup, forcing your shut eyes open, “If you were in all the times past, you wouldn’t have left me here again! I had my mom drive me 2 hours just so I could picture myself wishing you were beside me!” 

“I-”

When was the last time she made you feel like she actually loved you?

“It seems like you don’t need me anymore, Cairo. You find something else to obsess over and run away when I need you.”

“I do need you,” she argues, looking at you in disbelief. Yet you can see that a part of her knows that you’re right.

“Only when Mr. Miller isn’t here to make you feel good.”

“T-that’s not true!” She stammers, “You aren’t understanding what you’re saying-”

“I always want you when I'm finally fine, Cairo! That’s the problem with you! I can’t stop crawling my way back to you because my heart can’t beat without your reassurance, even if it’s just a sweet glance. But every time I’m standing here, you’re turning me away. And the only way for me to stop loving you is when I’m here, telling you how I’ve felt every single time you’ve left me in the dark for the attention of a 50 year old man that I’ve given you since the start! I’m not some toy that you need at moments- I-I needed you too.” You murmur, looking down, ashamed with the hot tears leaking out of your eyes.

It takes Cairo a moment to pull you back onto her, “I’m sorry,” she tries, her hand around your cheek. “I just.. I didn’t… He failed me on that final and I just needed to know why and I guess-”

“It’s okay,” you say, finally looking into her eyes while you put your hand away from your face. “I tried thinking that maybe it was that final for Miller, that you needed time to write something amazing for your final, like I knew you’d always do. But instead, you made your assignment obsessing over him.” 

Gosh you felt so stupid looking back at your naive self. “To see him in the hallways and talking to him while I stood there waiting for you, forgetting that I was even here in the first place.”

Cairo’s silent, eyes pleading as she tries reaching out for your hand, but you pull away. “I’m done waiting for you Cairo. Maybe you can pursue focusing on him more and don’t have to worry about focusing on me.” You bite back a shiver, your body shaking slightly.

She watches you turn away as Winnie wraps you in a blanket. Disappointment flickers in her best friend’s eyes as she helps you walk away. Cairo wishes, oh so terribly that you would turn back, to look at one more time, but you don’t.

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down.

You stop for a brief moment, about to hop into Winnie’s car, before turning to her, looking down at her shoes. “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough, Cairo. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I’m sorry it ended like this, I never met to hurt you.” She wants to say, but bites her tongue as your body slips away from sight, Winnie starting the engine. It was too late now.

Cairo made you wait, made you see a flicker of hope in her candle and she blew it. She made you wait in the cold.

-

She really wrote her story on your heart. But was it ever a good one? Maybe there were some that lingered freely in your heart, but her story would’ve never lasted like you wanted.

It was rare, she almost never saw you sitting on the same first bench. There were days where she immediately ran out of Mr. Miller’s classroom to push through the students just to go to that bench, to be reminded that you weren’t there to wait anymore. There was no one to wait for her anymore. The spot was always empty.

You’ll always want her when you are finally fine, even when you’d feel like your heart healed, it never would. Because you always needed her. You can’t heal without her.

Now every time your eyes meet in the hallways, you’re the first one to tear your gaze. Maybe it was just for the best. Tear your eyes away from her pretty ones before she tears your heart apart.

You wish that one day, when you meet her when you two are older, she’ll be the person you once knew. Your Cairo Sweet. The one that didn’t leave the sickening taste on your tongue.

[woewriting]

amae (ii)

pairing: cairo sweet | reader summary: cairo's actions continue to frustrate you, but when unspoken words are finally said out loud, you understand her. word count: 4619 warnings: mdni, +18 only! jumpscare: mr. miller, sexual tension, a bit of angst, jealous cairo, small reader x winnie situation, scisorring, face riding (reader receiving), language, smut in general, brief softness.

part 1 . part 2 | masterlist

Apparently, college parties were a bit different in Tennessee, which was a sweet surprise to you. Different from the ones you were used to back in your hometown, this one was hosted at the English professor’s house  — you noticed as soon as you opened the front door, a picture of him with his wife near the entrance.

You raised your eyebrows when you bumped into your professor, an apologetic smile on his face.

“I didn't see you there, I'm sorry.” He touched your arm in a weak squeeze before placing his hand back in his pocket, the other holding a red mug.

“It's okay, Mr. Miller. I didn't know you would be here.” 

“I always host this reading before the actual party. My wife and I will go on a weekend trip and Winnie asked if she could host a ‘small’ gathering; apparently, the house they usually go to for the party is unavailable. Beatrice left after noon. Smart decision of hers.” You laughed at his expression, knowing damn well it would be anything but small. You could tell by the faces around you that you never saw in any of his classes or readings before. They didn’t exactly fit the ‘tortured-poet’ profile “Are you joining us for the reading? It started a few minutes ago, I just came to the kitchen to get some more coffee. Cairo should start at any moment.”

At the mention of her name, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth and you took a deep breath. 

A week had passed since the girl sat on your lap, kissed you, allowed you to touch her and then started acting as if nothing happened. During classes, you could feel her eyes on you, that uncomfortable feeling of being watched taking over your senses every five minutes, as if she was waiting for you to turn around and smile at her.

But you didn't. You avoided her like the plague. As soon as the class ended, you gathered your materials, plugged in your earphones and left without looking back. 

Winnie complained a few times about your sudden avoidance of her and Cairo, asking non stop what had happened, if she did something that got you upset, but all you could do was apologize and say you had a lot on your mind with finals and assignments with a short deadline. It wasn't a full lie, but the girl could see the change in your expressions.

And now, all that hard work to avoid the brunette would go downhill as she was waiting a couple steps away from where you were standing, waiting for Mr. Miller's returnal so she could read what she had prepared for tonight.

“Cairo and I aren't in the best place right now, if I'm being honest. I didn't know she would be here.” 

“Oh…” The man scratched his chin. “I didn't know that, I'm sorry. If there's anything I can do to help, don't hesitate in asking. I know Cairo, she can be… stubborn.”

You bit the inside of your cheeks at the statement. During your first days in Mr. Miller's class, Winnie kept you updated on the strange relationship Cairo had with your now professor; on how starstruck the young writer was at being close to someone she admires and looks up to. It was uncomfortable seeing how close he would be to her, making your stomach twist inside you with anxiety, yet there was nothing you could do as she seemed happy to be noticed by him. 

When you asked about this whole situation to Cairo, trying to disguise your reactions, she told you: “he is someone I admire and I know he can help me with my writing. I look forward to our meetings as I have his attention all to myself.” You gave her a small smile that nearly made your eyes shake. Just like now.

You blinked a few times, pursing your lips together. 

“We'll be fine.” You decided to answer, not truly believing in that. “But I appreciate the offering, Mr. Miller.”

“Anytime.” 

“Does your wife know that soon her house will have drunk people stumbling against the walls?” You asked in an attempt to ease the sudden awkward silence.

“God, no.” He laughed.

“I’ll try to keep the glass decoration in one piece.” Once again his hand rested on your arm for a few seconds in a silent ‘thank you’ before he checked the silvery watch on his wrist. 

“The reading is almost finished. Walk with me?”

Unable to deny the request, you simply nodded, walking in front of the professor as he motioned to you. 

The second you arrived in the living room, your eyes landed on her like a magnet. It might be because she was standing in the improvised stage by the window, or because of the deadly stare she locked on you when you walked in with Mr. Miller by your side. If she had a laser in her eyes, you'd be a sieve by now with thick blood covering the dark wood floor. 

A hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to the corner. Winnie smiled at you, saying she saved you a seat by her side on the couch even though she wasn’t sure you'd be here for the reading. The childish side of yours screamed for you to answer her with: “if I knew she would be here, I wouldn't have come” in a very annoying voice, but you only smiled at her, squirming in the leather couch. 

The room was in complete silence, waiting for the girl staring at you to start her reading. Cairo took a deep breath, licking her dry lips to start. The sun was starting to descend on the window behind her, transforming that whole scene into a beautiful portrait that your mind would keep for as long as you could remember.

“And as I witness her most intense intentions through dark eyes, with hands marking mine own peachy skin in a bruising grasp, I fall asunder above her. My body; weak, begging, pleading for her merciless touch as I watch her slam the door shut. The smell of something burning fills the walls, yet it's not the smoke that leaves my lungs, it's the fog that fills as I turn, fated to fall and fated to fail, and wish for her gaze, my resolute resistance scrawled in sand, tumbling through her open hands just as through the neck of our hourglass.

From the high, the grayness takes form; thick, lascivious, dangerous. The unsureness of faith buries words that one day I aim to say. Miserable thing, watching with tearful eyes as she leaves. The tree branches knock on the window, witnessing the whole pitiful scene engraved in my memory.”

You paid attention to every word she enunciated with a strong, determined voice, it felt like she was trying to open your skull and carve each one onto your brain matter. You felt dizzy at them, heart beating fast against your ribcage. While everyone applauded the young writer, you clenched your jaw, swallowing nothing that would help your sudden dry mouth. 

Cairo smiled, the type of smile that would make anyone drop to their knees and pray for her. Winnie was excited by your side, the subtle scent of alcohol you smelled on her made you laugh. The girl was loud and, at the moment, when all eyes turned to you two, you regretted sitting by her side. From across the living room, your eyes met hers again, now sat beside Mr. Miller while he whispered something in her ear to which she smiled wide, turning to him. 

As another student took over the stage, you couldn’t absorb any words that were said, disappearing into thin air. All you could focus on was Cairo’s hand occasionally touching his forearm when she leaned to say something in his ear, earning a quiet laugh from the professor, the urge to stand up and drag her away from that bothering situation, instead you walked to the kitchen in hopes to find a single drop of alcohol that would make that tension vanish from your body. Soon, Winnie joined you. 

“This is so boring, my God!” She whined, sitting up on the kitchen island while eyeing you up and down in the bright light for the first time. “You’re  overdressed as usual, I see.”

“Your underwear as usual, I see.” Winnie spread her legs as long as the short leather skirt allowed her to, giving you the high quality view of a lacy underwear as she takes the vodka bottle from your hands, taking a long sip, feeling the burning spreading over her chest with a satisfied hum.

“You like?”

You let out a huff, looking away. “You wish.”

“I will kiss you one day.” She said more to herself than to you, like a secret promise that escaped due to the lack of inhibition — not that she had any, even in her sober moments that word didn't exist in her vocabulary.

Shaking your head at her statement, you pulled the sleeves of your sweater, taking the half empty bottle from her hands and getting ready to prepare yourself a drink that didn’t taste like a slow death. 

The reading kept on until the sun was completely set in the horizon, turning the living room into a dark scenario, lit only by the yellowish color from the table lamps. Slowly, the students started leaving while others arrived, walking in the house with bottles and bottles of alcohol, storing them in the kitchen’s fridge.

While you paid attention to the cup in your hands, wondering how long it would take for you to detach from the reality that was drowning you, you felt a bump on your shoulder.

“What is it?” 

Winnie signalized with her head, making you look over your shoulder, witnessing Cairo and Mr. Miller talking near the stairwell that would lead to the second floor of the house. 

“I think he wants to take her upstairs.”

“She can do whatever she wants, Winnie.” You mumbled, trying not to squeeze the cup in your hand when taking a sip. The bitterness making you frown. “Cairo is a big girl.”

“Are you sure about that?” 

“What do you mean?” Turning back to her, your eyebrows sewn together in confusion.

“Because she won’t stop looking at us.” You shrugged, finishing your drink in one long sip. You felt your stomach complain at the big wave of alcohol. 

“She can disappear with him for all I care.”

Winnie tilted her head, still looking at the two of them with narrowed eyes. “Oh, so I shouldn’t say they’re going upstairs and she seems pretty excited about it?”

“Yup, not a single thought about it is on my mind right now.” Grabbing the bottle again from her hands, less subtle and emptier than the first time, you poured yourself a very generous sip on your cup, drowsy smiling to Winnie when you handed over the, now completely empty, bottle. 

As the minutes went by and the alcohol went in, your control over your senses were slowly losing its grip and you started to worry about Cairo against your will. Controlling the impulse to run upstairs as you weren’t drunk enough to blame on the booze, you shook your head, leaning your body against Winnie’s while the girl talked excitedly to a random boy from the football team, your mind too caught up analyzing the things the young writer said earlier to pay attention to any conversation around you. 

The music wasn't loud enough as the professor still hadn't left, but you could feel every beat of it synchronized with the beat of your heart. 

Your fingers found the skin of Winnie's thigh, starting to draw random lines out of boredom. Other than the girl, and Cairo, you weren't familiar with the faces that kept on surging from the front door every five minutes.

“If you keep doing that, I'll drag you upstairs too.” Black whispered, making you tilt your chin up at her.

“Maybe you should.” 

Winnie was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. From the hazel eyes to the plump lips that looked so attractive at that moment, getting closer and closer, making a tingling feeling crawl over your legs like a spider. You wanted to kiss her, and you would have, if it weren't for the footsteps coming from behind you, making Black pull away. You knew it was Mr. Miller, the strong perfume making your nose burn. 

The older man stood in front of you, looking at Winnie who was still seated on the marble island, an innocent glow in her eyes that almost made you laugh, but a hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you away from that situation. All you could hear as you were being dragged to the — now empty — living room was Mr. Miller asking the girl to behave and to not destroy his house or he would fail her. You laughed to yourself.

“Did you seriously allowed Mr. Miller to take me upstairs?” Cairo asked, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater like a spoiled kid when you refused to look at her, waving at the professor when he turned around to leave, leaving the house and a bunch of teenagers and new-adults unsupervised.

Your eyes were dark and your body a little soft when you stared at her, yet you still were in control of your actions, the drinks just diminished the worry of doing or saying something wrong. At that point, you didn't care about what left your mouth. You wanted to curse the young writer.

“He's our English teacher, not a serial killer.”

“He could've forced me to do something!”

“You seemed pretty excited to go with him. Now, excuse me, I'm gonna find Winnie so we can finish what we were about to start.” Before you could walk past a furious Cairo, her hand, once again, glued to your chest.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You blew me off, Cairo. What did you expect? That I would run after you and beg for your attention?"

"Yes!"

You let out a breathy sigh, the corner of your lips up in disbelief. "You really are so self-centered, you don't care about anyone other than yourself. You're a fucking bitch!"

"And you're dying to fuck this self-centered bitch."

"Not after Mr. Miller, thank you." You scolf sarcastically.

"He didn't fuck me, you idiot.” The hand in your chest grabbed the fabric of your sweater, pulling you down to her so she could whisper with lips nearly pressing on yours. “He wasn't you." 

Her eyes softened as well as the fist that held you in place, moving it to the back of your head. 

Staring at her eyes, you didn't know what to find. You didn't even know what you wanted to find. Maybe a sincere answer.

“Cairo…” You started, sighing against her lips, closing your eyes for a brief moment, trying to gather cohesive words to form a sentence. You blamed the alcohol for this pathetic lack of senses. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to care. I want you to show how desperate you are to have me, how you crave my body in your hands.” You swallowed hard, carefully listening to the whispery confession, the soft motion of her lips grabbing your attention. Once again, you wanted to steal that small freckle from her upper lip. “I want you to burn my skin with your fingers and bruise me with your mouth. And if you really wanted me to be yours, you would've turned around, thrown me on that fucking bed and taken me.” The strong pronunciation of that last part got your body heating up, the urge in your chest spreading in your veins and mixing with the existing alcohol. 

“You’re not very clear in your intentions, Cairo. You’re good at saying everything and nothing.”

Taking your hand, the writer pressed it against her chest. She took a deep breath, goosebumps covering her body at the warm feeling of having your hand touching her again.

“Can you feel that?” You nodded, letting your forehead gently fall against hers. “Do you understand now or do I have to draw it for you?”

Suddenly, your brain became fogged and you were getting lost again. You saw dark brown eyes. You felt a strong bumping in your hands. You smelled woody cologne and cinnamon. Yet, you didn't know where to go. 

“I want you to draw for me.” You said, desperately trying to find the right path.

Cairo nodded her head, pulling you with her once again, but this time, with her fingers intertwined on yours and more gentle than the first time. You trailed behind, careful to not trip on the stairs as she led the both of you somewhere you didn't know, the lights were off on the second floor, making impossible for you to see anything that wasn't right in front of you.

You heard the sound of a door opening and being locked once closed. The moonlight was invading the room through the open curtains. Blinking a few times to adjust the blurred vision, you felt your body being pushed against a soft mattress and a lightweight on top of you.

“I'll draw it for you.” Cairo whispered, pressing her lips on yours in a chaste kiss. “Do you have any idea of what you do to me?” She asked while kissing down your neck, your hands squeezing her waist over the cotton fabric. You shook your head, licking your dry lips, still tasting her lip balm on them. “Here, let me show it to you.” 

Cairo sat on your hips, guiding one of your hands under the white dress, in between her legs. Flashbacks returned and your heart stopped beating for a second while she moved herself on your fingertips, eyes locked on yours, a smirk surging in the darkness. When you moaned at the warmth that embraced your fingers, she did the same.

You breathed out the air that was stuck in your lungs, affected by the scene that unwrapped in front of your eyes. It was a erotic, alluring view, slowly burning itself into your brain like a polaroid. A flash of smile drew on Cairo’s face, satisfied with the reactions coming from you, with the way your eyes stared at her with a dark, flame of desire, lips parted as you struggled to breath.

The cold touch of her rings sent shivers down your spine when her hand wrapped itself around your neck, pressing the sides of it, feeling the pulsating vein under her fingertips. A sob escaping her throat when your fingers easily slipped into her, burying themselves in the warmth of her velvety walls, clenching around you, while the heel of your hand pressed against her swollen clit.

A vile glow shining in the dark brown eyes when she leaned down, squeezing the sides of neck harder as she felt the knot inside her getting tighter. That feeling of desperation growing impatient in her chest.

“Have I lost myself, or have I gained you?” You asked in a soft voice, following a steady pace with your fingers as she moved herself on you. Even when you were the one carrying her in your hands, it was hers that controlled the air in your lungs. 

You’ve always seen Cairo as a spoiled girl that grew up in a big house, having all her wishes wrapped in a pretty paper waiting for her on her bed when she came home from school. But now, as she falls apart in your hands, saying your name like a sacred mantra, you saw beyond words and actions, you saw the urge to be held and cared for, like a little girl that didn’t get a hug after they wake up.  

Staring at her in awe, you felt tears coming to the brim of your eyes, the squeeze cutting every small space for the air to bring you life, but you didn't care, not when you saw the vision of what heaven must be like; the curly brown hair falling over her right shoulder, the soft strands tickling the skin of your neck as she fell over you, hiding on your chest.

Coming down from her high, Cairo carried a sly smile when she looked at you. Her kiss tasted like ashes, bitter, against your tongue. 

“You taste sweet.” The writer whispered in between kisses, sucking your tongue into her mouth over and over, sighing in pleasure at the fingers that slid off of her. Carefully bringing your coated fingers to your mouth, you wrapped your lips around them, being watched with full blown eyes every movement of yours.

“And you taste divine.” 

It only took a millisecond for her lips to meet yours once again, the softness of the act long forgotten as she bit your lower lip, tasting the iron in her tongue with a sadistic smile at the painful cry you let out, squeezing her ass in your hands; burning the peachy skin with your fingertips. The words of her writing echoing inside your brain, spreading it on your blood flow. 

“I like this sweater, you look charming in dark blue.” Her hand found the collar of it, tip of her fingers tracing the skin underneath, making the fabric itch around your neck. “Take it off.” Despite the sweet tone in her voice, you obeyed the breathy order, pulling it over your head and tossing it somewhere in the unknown bedroom. Cairo stood up, removing the brown leather boots and her own dress, the white lacey set that remained on her body making you gulp. 

The writer stood in between your legs, her hands on your hair while yours held her by her waist, goosebumps all over her body as you kissed the toned abs, softly biting the skin.

Cairo looked down at you with curious eyes, the tip of her tongue trapped between her teeth, admiring the small galaxies your mouth left all over her like she was an empty canvas that needed some color. And you were doing the perfect job, painting an universe on her skin as you knelt down, bringing her underwear along with it. The writer kicked the useless cloth, putting her leg over your shoulder and hooking it behind your head; you salivated at the view of her cunt glistening in front of you. 

One of her hands caressed your face with gentleness, her thumb sliding over your bottom lip before she made you open your mouth, pushing her hips closer to your lips. She was dripping on your tongue, the taste of her filling your mouth as you hummed in pleasure, licking what escaped your agape mouth. 

The big brown eyes stared at you in flames, burning your skin into a bright scarlet crimson. You nudge your nose closer to her, inhaling the intoxicating smell; everything about Cairo was sweet, from her last name, to her voice that could recite the most beautiful poem by core, to the honey flavor slick that dripped from her aching hole, running down her thighs at the view of you ready to worship her, and when your tongue slid in between her folds in a long, slow lick, her head fell back and a shiver went down her spine. 

Pressing your tongue flat over her hardened nub, you closed your eyes, the grip on your hair pulling you impossibly closer. You circled her clit with the tip of your tongue, drawing random patterns with precision on the sensitive nerve, earning yourself a praise that came with a smile when she looked down on you. 

Moving your hands up her thigh, you squeezed the muscle, making her ride on your tongue, aggressively and delicious. The sounds escaping your open mouth reverberated all over her sensitive flesh. 

Cairo was an exhibitionist, she adored having eyes on her all the time, paying attention to every admirable detail that was attached to her. And having you on your knees praying against her cunt was filthy, enticing and agonizing, that heat wave scorching her insides and melting on your tongue, and you made sure to swallow it with a gratifying smile.

You could suffocate in between her legs and it would be a heavenly death. 

Kissing your way up, you brought her body closer, circling her waist as she hooked both legs around you, sliding her tongue over your shiny lips before you dropped her on the bed. Cairo was about to complain at the lack of care, but she soon shut her mouth, watching you kick your converse to the side and unbuttoning the tailored pants that hugged your curves in the right places.

Taking a deep breath, you slid the fabric down, taking your underwear with you, the shyness taking over you once you were free from any cloth covering your body; all this being watched with lustful eyes. 

The young writer’s eyes pierced your soul, engraving in her brain every mole you had around your shoulders, silently choosing her favorite one to add to the list of small details of your body she loved and kept fresh in her memories, always making sure to add ‘em in her writing. It amazes her how you never noticed the importance you had in her work, you were her muse. 

“Come to me.”

She didn’t have to ask twice, at the sound of her sweet voice your feet led your body closer to hers, moving according to her words, your knees sinking in the mattress only to find balance on top of her.  Her hands on your back brought you closer and you fell, once again, into that piquant feeling where it felt like you were about to drown, but her lips on your neck got you breathing in fervor. 

It was easy for the brunette to take control, reversing positions and sitting atop your abdomen, gripping one of your legs and casting one of hers in between them, fitting herself against you. 

“Fuck, Cairo.” You mewl, closing your eyes at the aggressive way she pressed herself down, easily gliding on you. One of your hands found her thigh, squeezing the flesh until it blemished under your fingertips, moving your hips according to the pace she set. It was cruel, desperate, the dark brown eyes fluttering closed. 

The bed slammed against the wall, the old wood-frame fated to snap at any moment; you didn’t care, it was impossible to focus on anything that wasn’t the girl in between your legs, rubbing herself on you with an inner desire to split you in half. You dazed at her, the angelical aura surrounding her like an armor, preventing the sins from escaping the walls of the still unknown bedroom like the squelching noises were, the lewd sounds from the both of you echoing around the hallway for anyone that dared to come closer and press their ears against the locked door. 

When the impetuous climax hit you like a jolt of electricity spreading in your veins, Cairo fell on top of you, exhaustion taking over her senses as well as the tired muscles complaining from all the spasms. 

The writer looked at you, tearful eyes as you soothed her bare back with an equally pleasured expression. Your bodies were weak, relying on each other at such a delicate and overwhelming moment, marked in black and blue by your hands and mouth, a greedy memory that will last. And if it ever vanishes, like the galaxies made out of bruises, all you needed to do is knock on her window.