#cairo sweet x y/n

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Can’t Break Tradition

cairo sweet x female reader

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

word count: 3k

a/n: office life au. Merry Christmas!

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knowing where she was meant knowing where to avoid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You froze. "Uh, yeah. Why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grip on the glass tightened.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bartender slides you another drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For now.

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

[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

[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.

[dollarbils]

i’ll trade you | c.sweet

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 knew without a doubt that her toothbrush was there to stay, and so was she. You both share a quiet smile, knowing that while the road ahead won’t be easy, but it’s one you’re ready to face together.

[whoops-all-jennas]

The Call

Vada Cavell x fem!reader

"Why'd you call me at 2 am?"

"I missed you."

Summary: You and Vada are currently at the flirting stage where things aren't defined, but there are definitely feelings. One night, Vada calls you and the relationship escalates.

a/n: this is by far my most intimate fic I wrote, probably the furthest I'll go tbh.

Word Count: 6288

Your soft snores fill your bedroom as your phone rings. You squirm in your bed, squinting at the bright screen on your phone to find Vada calling. You hesitantly answer the call, annoyed.

“Hi.” Vada smiles, laying in her bed.

You continue squinting at the screen. “Why’d you call me? It’s so late.” You groan, turning off your camera.

“I wanted to talk.” She huffs. “Turn your camera back on.”

You groan once again. “Ugh, fine.”

Vada softly chuckles while seeing your grumpy expression. She can tell you’re still sleepy and not in the mood to talk, but she still wanted to see you nonetheless. She laid on her side, holding her phone with both hands as she smiled warmly at you.

“What's up.” You say, your voice rough from just waking up.

“Nothing… I just missed you.” Vada mutters, looking you up and down on the screen.

You’re too tired to register her affection. “I was in the middle of this dream. We were at my house and, wait-” Your face flushes red, cutting off your own words.

“I shouldn’t say that.” You mutter, sheepishly.

Vada smirked, taking notice of the slight tint of color on your face. “Oooh, go on.” She teased, holding the phone closer to her face.

“What were we doing?” Vada giggled lightly, enjoying your flushed, tired expression.

You hid your face with your hands, the phone falling onto the mattress showing Vada your ceiling fan. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Vada can’t help but laugh while hearing you, watching you hide your face from embarrassment. She rolled onto her back and held her phone above her head. “Come on, tell me.”

Vada continued to jokingly nag at you, giggling. “I won’t laugh, I promise.”

“You promise? If you laugh I’m going back to bed.” You say, bluntly.

Vada sighed, rolling her eyes playfully. “Yes, I promise.

She assured you, trying her best to hide her smile. “Now, you gotta tell me what you were dreaming about.” Vada added, tilting her head to the side and waiting in anticipation.

You grab your phone again, the blush on your face deepening. “We might’ve been… kissing?”

Vada’s mouth parted a bit slightly at your comment, a small flutter of excitement rushing through her.

She tried containing herself, hiding the fact that she was also getting red in the face.

“Oh? Is that so?” Vada replied softly.

The blush on your face somehow deepens as you drive your face into your pillow. “That was so embarrassing, this was a trap wasn’t it? Get me while I’m sleepy to say something stupid.”

Vada let a light, soft laugh out. “Maybe.”

She smirked, amused by how easily flustered you were getting over the little story you revealed. Vada let her head rest on her pillow, looking up at the ceiling.

“Although, I wonder why you were dreaming about that.” She continued, wanting to tease you and see how far she could go.

You reveal your face, your cheek resting on your pillow. “I don’t know, tell me a dream you were in control of.” I say, defensively.

Vada smirked at your question, thinking back into her memories for a bit. She stayed silent before eventually looking back at the screen.

“I don’t know if I should say.” She muttered, enjoying your defensive, flustered expression.

You adjust your seating, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes, “Oh? It’s only fair after what I just revealed.”

Vada chuckled lightly before letting out a small huff. “Okay, okay.” She muttered, before looking up at the ceiling while recalling the dream she had a while ago. “Well, in my dream, we weren’t just kissing.”

Your moment of confidence slips, your face finding that now familiar red hue.

“I uh-” You find myself coughing from embarrassment. “What were we doing then?”

Vada smirked when seeing you stumble over your words, satisfied with how flustered you were getting. She let out a small giggle, holding the phone closer again.

“You sure you want to know? You’re already a mess as it is.” Vada teased, knowing that you were getting even more red.

“You know what? I didn’t wanna know anyways.” You said, childishly.

Another chuckle escaped Vada’s lips, enjoying your stubborn behavior.

“Oh no no, you can’t back out like that.” She said, playfully. Moving slightly onto her side. “You asked, now deal with it.” Vada added, taking pleasure in watching you squirm.

You found yourself at a loss for words, not knowing how to respond as your heart rate accelerates.

A smirk continued to be present on Vada’s face as she watched your flustered expression grow. “Aww, you’re getting even redder now.” She teased, moving her free hand to the camera.

“Are you speechless now? Hmm?” Vada added, wanting to get you even more riled up.

“I uh-” You look away from your phone as if that’ll hide your embarrassment. “How am I supposed to respond to that?”

Another small laugh left Vada’s mouth, clearly enjoying your flustered state. She shook her head lightly, before a smirk appeared on her face once more.

“Y’know I’m just teasing you.” She assured, before looking at you over the phone.

“You’re cute like this.” Vada said, bluntly.

“I’m what!” Your phone falls back onto the mattress, shocked.

Vada let out an amused laugh, hearing your phone fall against the bed. She couldn’t help but grin, knowing that you were growing more and more flustered by the second.

“You heard me.” Vada said, turning onto her back now. “I said you’re cute like this.”

You grab your phone once again, the camera revealing your flustered face. You look to the side, avoiding eye contact. “Well, I think you're cute in general. So…”

Vada’s smirk grew into a soft smile, hearing your flustered words. She felt a small flutter in her chest, taken off guard. Vada wasn’t expecting that, but she couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased. 

“Oh yeah? You think so?” She muttered, tilting her head slightly. Her own face growing a bit red.

You nod, a genuine smile creeping up onto your face. “You’re really pretty.”

Vada’s cheeks grew red as you complimented her, a flutter of butterflies rushing through her body. With a small laugh, she shook her head.

“Oh yeah? Pretty is the only thing you can think of for me?” Vada teased, trying to distract herself from all the feelings rushing within.

“That took all my confidence and that’s your response?” You say, teasingly. “I’m going back to bed.”

Vada suddenly felt panicked when seeing you end the call, and she immediately went to call you back.

“Don’t just leave like that.” Vada muttered, a small hint of desperation in her voice.

You find a smile creeping up onto your face. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

It’s silent for a moment, your brain thinking about what Vada said earlier.

“I think you’re far more than just pretty, you’re beautiful. But yet, it’s your soul and personality that draw people to you first.”

Vada’s cheeks were now beet red, and her heart raced with every word you spoke. She stayed silent for a few seconds, not expecting such sweet words to suddenly come out of your mouth.

“You’re really that much of a sap?” She muttered, but she was clearly enjoying your words.

Your face flushes red after realizing your sudden intimate words. “I uh- forget I said that!”

Vada let out an amused laugh at your panicked expression, feeling her own fluttering heart slow down. She grinned, before replying with a teasing tone.

“You can’t just say all that then take it back.” She muttered, shaking her head while trying to control the redness on her cheeks.

You look at the ceiling in an attempt to hide your face before groaning. You turn back to your phone, admiring Vada’s face for a moment. “I- I did mean it.”

Vada smiled softly, seeing your flustered state once more. She loved teasing you, and adored the fact that you got this way so easily. However, hearing your last words made her heart skip a beat.

Vada tried to compose herself before replying. “You mean it, huh?” She muttered, biting her lower lip gently.

You nod, face still flushed red. “That is how I feel. You have a beautiful soul Vada, a soul full of empathy and passion.”

A small, warm feeling stirred within Vada as she continued to listen to your words of praise. She found it hard to look at you through the screen, her cheeks growing redder.

“You’re too much, you know what? You’re gonna kill me if you keep this up.” Vada muttered, attempting to compose herself through the redness on her face.

You found yourself looking away, building up some sort of confidence. “You can try to kill me then if you want. With words, not literally.” You say, smiling as you clarify.

Vada let out a light, amused chuckle at your words. She raised a brow, noticing the sudden boldness.

“Oh yeah? You’re feeling bold all of a sudden?” Vada teased, enjoying hearing the confidence in your voice. “And what would you have me say then?”

The familiar blush found your face again. “I don’t know, I just poured my heart out a little bit, maybe you can say how you see me. What you like about me.”

You find your blush deepen at your last words, “Not like-like! I mean- Ugh, nevermind you know what I mean.”

Vada couldn’t help but grin at your flustered expression. It was way too easy to get you all tangled up in a red mess. She rolled her eyes, biting down on her lower lip to hold back another laugh.

“Yeah, yeah I know what you mean, silly.” Vada said softly, her teasing tone slowly fading.

After a moment of silence, Vada felt a flutter of nervousness in her own heart.

“I-” She began, searching for the right words to say. “I don’t know how to put it into words.”

“Take your time, it's okay. Finding the right words can be difficult.” You say in an attempt to comfort Vada’s nervousness.

Vada smiled weakly, appreciating your attempt to comfort her. She took a deep breath, her eyes searching through the screen and onto your face. She had to compose herself, to stop the redness from spreading.

“It’s just, You’re really important to me.” She muttered softly, holding the phone closer to her face. “I’ve never felt this way before towards another person, not like this.”

You found yourself lost in her words, remembering every syllable. “How do you feel about me?” You say quietly, lost in Vada’s eyes through the screen.

Vada softly bit her lower lip, slightly hesitant to say the words out loud. But she took another deep breath, before murmuring the words. “I like you. I really like you…”

Vada felt her cheeks growing warm again, and her heart felt as if it was thumping out of her chest. “More than I’ve ever liked anyone.” She mumbled, eyes still remaining locked onto your face.

You open your mouth to speak, but you’re at a loss for words as your face blushes at Vada’s intimate confession. “Like, like-like me?”

Vada let out a light chuckle, finding your flustered words and blushing cheeks incredibly cute. She smiled weakly, shaking her head.

“Yes, like-like you. Is that so surprising?” She teased lightly, her own cheeks growing redder.

“I- I never realized” You say, unsure how to respond.

“I like you too.”

A genuine, warm smile spread across Vada’s face as she heard your words. Her heart skipped a beat, and a strong fluttering sensation filled her body.

“You do?” She responded quietly, a mix of disbelief and relief in her tone. She held the phone closer to her face, wanting to get a clear view of your expression.

A grin finds your face. “Vada, I just told you how we were making out in my dream. Was it not obvious?” You say, flustered.

“Yes I-” I find myself smiling as I say the next few words. “I like you.”

Vada’s face grew redder at the thought of what you just said. Hearing you explicitly say that you liked her in that way made her heart flutter even more.

“You’re an idiot.” She said with a soft laugh, shaking her head. “But a cute idiot.”

You hid your face into your pillow again as it flushed red. “You need to give me a warning or something before you say stuff like that.”

Vada let out a small laugh, unable to hold back her amusement at your flustered expression. She shook her head, before responding in a teasing manner. “Warning? Then where's the fun in that? I just want to see how red I can make you.”

You scream into your pillow, kicking your feet into the mattress. You pry your face off the pillow, face beet red. “That doesn’t help either.”

Vada laughed again, thoroughly enjoying the way you were acting. She watched you through the screen, amused by how easy it was to make you flustered.

“Awww… You’re too easy to mess with.” She teased, a smirk spreading across her face.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You say with an annoyed tone, your smile showing your true feelings.

After you take a moment to get comfortable, you can’t help but get lost in Vada’s deep brown eyes. “I want to see you in person.”

Vada smiled softly, feeling a small flutter of excitement in her chest at your request.

“Oh yeah? You want to see me in person?” She teased, biting her lower lip. “You miss me that badly?”

“Duh.” You say, teasingly. “No camera can do your face justice. I just want to appreciate you in person.”

Vada let out a small laugh, her cheeks growing red once more. She shook her head, before responding with a teasing tone. “Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“What? We’ve been out later than this before.” You say, grumpily.

Vada tried to hold back a laugh at your grumpy reaction, finding you little temper adorable. “Oh, is someone getting grumpy?” She teased, her lips still curled up into a smirk.

“You’re the one who woke me up, and you have the audacity to say that I miss you?” You say, teasingly. “I do, but that’s not the point.”

Vada let out a small laugh, shaking her head at your sassiness. Her heart felt warm, as she continued to banter with you.

“And you’re the one who asked to see me in person at 2 am.” She teased back, smiling.

You find yourself silent for a moment, admiring her smile. “I was being serious about hanging out by the way. Maybe you can spend the night at my place or something.”

Vada’s heart fluttered at the thought. She quickly nodded, unable to hide the excitement in her voice. “Of course! I’d- I’d really like that.”

“I’ll pick you up!” You say, practically jumping out of bed to put on your shoes.

Vada smiled with excitement at your eagerness, her heart racing with anticipation. She couldn't help but laugh, seeing how quickly you were getting ready.

“Wow, you’re really excited to see me, huh?” She teased, her own eagerness growing.

Your face flushes red off the camera as you tie your shoes. “You’re not allowed to tease me whenever I’m driving.”

Vada chuckled at your words, her eyes still fixed on the screen. She shook her head in amusement, before playfully responding. “Oh, no teasing while you’re driving?”

She pretended to pout, putting on an exaggerated sad face. “But I love teasing you.”

“I love not getting into a car accident.” You say, grabbing your phone as you leave the house.

Vada rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help but laugh at your reply. She knew you were right, but still found your reaction adorable. “Fine, fine. No teasing while you’re driving, I promise. Can’t have you getting distracted now, can we?”

You step into your car, twisting the keys in the ignition. “You get it.”

You put on your bluetooth, putting on the playlist you and Vada made together.

Vada smiled as she heard the music, her heart racing once more. She felt a sense of nostalgia and warmth, reminiscing on the memories you shared.

“I do get it. Can’t have you distracted by me when you’re supposed to be keeping your eyes on the road.” She replied playfully, her eyes still locked on the screen.

Time passes quickly as you drive to Vada’s house, luckily she doesn’t live far.

“I’m here!” You say, eagerly. “Make sure you have everything you need.”

Vada couldn’t help but laugh at your eagerness, finding it adorable. “I’m ready, don’t worry.” She responded, grabbing her bag and heading out the door. She stepped out of her house, closing the door behind her.

As she reached your car, Vada looked through the window, a playful grin on her face. “You got enough room for me in there, or should I sit on the roof?”

You look around the car jokingly. The car is practically empty with 3 available seats. “No room, sorry.” You say, teasingly.

Vada rolled her eyes, but a small laugh escaped her lips. She shook her head at your teasing. 

“Oh, very funny.” Vada says, taking the passenger seat.

You instantly find yourself lost in her beauty. She really does look better in person.

Vada noticed the way your eyes were fixed on her. The fluttering in her chest grew stronger as she buckled her seatbelt.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just gonna take up all the armrest space.” She says, teasingly.

You put the car in drive, the car slowly rolling down the street. “Just save some space for me.”

Vada chuckled again, pretending to think. “Hmm, I suppose I can share.”

She scooted closer to you, leaning her body slightly to take up more of the on space on the console. She turned to you with a smirk, clearly teasing you once more. “But only a little bit.”

You find your face flushing red. She’s clearly ignoring the no teasing rule, but you don’t care. You enjoy her teasing too much. You slide your elbow onto the center console, moving it over until it’s touching Vada’s arm.

Vada’s heart skipped a beat as she felt your elbow touch her, the teasing smirk still present on her face.

As the car turned in the direction of your house, Vada’s gaze shifted out the window. She watched the street lights passing by, the night growing more cozy and intimate inside the car. The music from our combined playlist fills the car. You feel your heart rate accelerate just at the idea that this playlist is something you both share.

“If I get another red light I swear.” You say, as you stop in front of a red light, trying to calm your heart.

Vada noticed you feeling nervous, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re getting all worked up over a red light, huh?” She teased gently, trying to ease your anxiety.

As the light turned green, she reached over to give your hand a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, we’re almost there. And then you don’t have to worry about any more red lights.”

Your heart skips a beat at Vada’s touch, causing a shiver to go down your spine. Your face is beet red, contrasting the green light as we turn onto your street.

Vada couldn’t help but find your flustered reaction adorable. She kept her hand gently on yours, feeling the warmth and comfort of the moment.

You hesitantly pull your hand away, Vada’s touch lingering as you put the car in park in front of your house. “Is there anything specific you wanted to do? Maybe a movie you’ve been meaning to watch?”

“A movie sounds great.” She replied, her eyes lighting up at the suggestion.

Vada grabbed her bag, her heart still fluttering at the thought of your touch just moments ago. She followed you towards the house, a small smile on her face. As they stepped into your house, Vada looked around, taking in the familiar surroundings.

She shrugged off her jacket, hanging it near the doorway. “Anything you have in mind?”

You shake your head. “I picked last time, it’s your turn. I swear though if you pick another horror movie you’ll be the one paying for my therapy.”

Vada chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, I don’t pick THAT many horror movies.”

She then pretended to think for a moment, before a smirk appeared on her face. “But if I did pick a horror movie…” She teased, intentionally leaving the sentence unfinished to mess with you.

You walk past Vada, leading the way to the empty and silent living room. “Then you’ll be the one consoling me afterwards.”

Vada chuckled, following you into the living room. She watched as you settled in, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Oh, yes, I’ll be your personal cuddle buddy while you recover from the horrors on the screen.” She teased, flopping onto the couch next to you. She shifted into a comfortable position, trying to figure out what movie to pick.

“That doesn’t sound too bad.” You mutter to myself.

Vada smirked, hearing your muttered response. She leaned her against the back of the couch, studying the options on the TV.

“You really want me to hold you while you’re scared, hm? How adorable.” She teased, nudging you gently with her elbow.

Your face flushed red. “You heard that?” You watch as Vada scrolls through Netflix.

Vada couldn’t help but laugh at your embarrassed reaction. She gently poked your arm, amused by your flustered expression. “Of course I heard it, you’re sitting right beside me.”

She continued scrolling through the movie options, teasing you further. “You’re lucky you’re cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?”

You slide down the couch, your upper back resting on the back of the seat as you hide behind your hands.

Vada couldn’t help but find your attempt at hiding adorable. She chuckled, her eyes still scanning the movie options. “Aww, are you trying to hide now? Hiding your embarrassment won’t work, you know.”

She glanced over at you, still hiding behind your hands and shook her head with a smirk. She scooted a little closer, her shoulder gently brushing against you. “C’mon, I want to see your face.”

“You’ll have to pry my hands off my face then.” You say, your voice muffled.

Vada’s smirk grew wider, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She leaned closer to you, gently grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from your face.

As soon as she caught a glimpse of your flushed expression, she couldn’t help but laugh affectionately.

“Why are you so cute when you’re blushing?” She teased, her grip on your wrists still firm, keeping your hands away.

Your face somehow becomes a deeper shade of red as you fail to hide your face again, struggling against Vada’s grasp.

Vada’s heart fluttered as she saw the deepening redness on your face. “No, no, no. No more hiding. I want to see that adorable blushing face, so you better give up.”

She tightened her grip on your wrists. She scooted even closer to you, her body nearly pressed against yours. She was clearly amused, enjoying the little game they were playing.

Your body temperature rapidly increases as Vada’s body soon presses against yours, giving into defeat as you stop struggling. “You win.”

A victorious smile formed on Vada’s lips as you finally gave in. “I always win, remember?”

She loosened her grip on your wrists, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she continued to hold your hand, gently caressing it with her thumb. “Look at you, all red and flustered. It’s adorable.”

As your face holds the familiar red shade, you find yourself lost in Vada’s deep brown eyes. Your pupils dilating under her gaze.

Vada noticed how you became entranced, your gaze fixed on her eyes.

“You’re staring.” She pointed out, a hint of amusement in her tone.

She continued to hold your gaze, her own eyes searching your face for any sign of nervousness or discomfort. But all she found was a deep connection, her heart fluttering at the sight.

You glance at her lips for a moment before looking away embarrassed.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to.” You say, stumbling over your words.

Vada couldn’t help but smirk when she noticed you glancing at her lips. “No need to apologize.” She said, her voice soft and teasing. She watched as you stumbled over your words, finding your nervousness endearing.

Without thinking, her thumb gently brushed over the back of your hand, making small circular motions as she continued to hold your gaze.

Your eyes instinctively find Vada’s gaze again, as if you have no control over it. Time feels like it's frozen as you find yourself lost in Vada’s eyes once again. You blush under her touch, every ounce of intimacy darkening the hue of your red face.

Vada noticed how you were drawn to her gaze, as if entranced. She saw the way your blushing face deepened with every small touch and gesture. It made her heart race, the intimacy between them growing stronger with each passing moment.

She smiled softly, her thumb still gently caressing your hand. Vada couldn’t help but find herself getting lost in the moment as well, the world around them fading into the background. All that mattered was you and her, caught in the intensity of their connection.

Your gaze shifts to her lips for a moment, your mind full of ideas that you’re too anxious to attempt. “I, uh- Can I-”

You found words impossible to find under Vada’s intimate presence, vulnerability in your eyes.

Vada noticed this shift, the way your gaze lingered on her lips for just a moment. She could sense the nervousness in your words, the vulnerability in your expression. Her heart raced at the implication of your unfinished sentence, her own desire growing stronger by the second.

Her grip on your hand tightened just slightly, her thumb still tracing small circles on your skin. Without breaking eye contact, she gently nodded, as if silently encouraging you to continue.

As if the last puzzle piece slid into place, words formed together.

“Can I kiss you?”

You ask quietly, your heart practically jumping out of your chest, hearing each beat get stronger the longer you stare into her intimate eyes.

Vada’s breath hitched as she heard the words leave your mouth. The vulnerability you showed, the way you asked, her heart melted in an instant. She could feel your nervousness mirrored in her own fluttering heart.

She let out a soft, shaky breath, her gaze still holding yours. A moment passed, and then she nodded once more, a warm smile spreading across her face. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yes, you can.”

A shiver ran down Vada’s spine as your hand found its way to the back of her neck, drawing her closer. The moment your lips touched, her mind went blank, leaving only the sensation of you against her. She kissed back gently, her lips molding to yours as if they were made for each other.

She moved her hand to cup your face, her fingertips brushing your skin as the kiss deepened. Vada could feel your warm breath mixing with hers, and the taste of your chapstick on her lips only fueled her desire.

Vada’s heart raced as the kiss deepened, each movement of your lips sending waves of electric arousal through her body. She could feel the desire to be closer, to be engulfed in your presence. The feeling of your hands cupping her face, your body squirming against hers, ignited a fire within her.

Your hands slide down to her hips, sliding under her shirt to feel her bare skin as they rest on her waist. Your tongue gently passes your lips, the touch of it asking to deepen the intimate kiss even further.

A soft gasp escaped Vada’s lips as your hands found their way under her shirt, the contact of your fingers against her bare skin sending a rush of electricity through her body. The feel of your touch against her sensitive skin made her shiver, her desire to be close to you consuming her every thought.

As she felt your tongue gently passing through your lips, she eagerly responded to your silent request. Her tongue brushed against yours, the kiss deepening in intensity as she pulled herself even closer to you, the need to feel you against her body growing stronger.

Vada’s tongue claimed a dominant position, the sound of heavy breathing escaping our mouths as our bodies pressed against each other. Your hands roaming across her bare back only fueled her eagerness, the feeling of your touch causing goosebumps to form on her skin.

Her hands clutched your shoulders, her fingernails digging into your skin as she pulled you down on top of her. She wanted to feel the weight of you against her, to feel every inch of your body.

You gasp as Vada rolls you on top of her, our bodies on the edge of the couch almost falling off.

You didn’t care.

All you wanted was to be closer, your body yearning for hers.

She moaned softly at the contact, her arms wrapping around your neck, pulling you down to deepen the kiss. She wanted to feel your entire body against hers, every inch of her craving your touch, your presence, your everything.

Your knee slips off the couch, causing us to fall off. Your tongue slips out of her mouth, a trail of saliva breaking. Your back thuds against the carpet.

Vada came crashing down on top of you, her body landing on yours with a soft thud.

For a moment, you both laid there in a tangled mess, breaths heavy and chests rising and falling rapidly. Then Vada let out a soft laugh, her head buried in the crook of your neck.

She lifted her head, a cheeky smile on her face as she looked down at you. “Well, that certainly wasn’t in the plan.”

You find yourself unable to contain your laughter. “Are you okay?”

Vada’s laughter grew louder as she heard your giggles, her heart lighter in your presence. She shifted her body so she wasn’t completely pinning you to the floor, propping herself up on her forearms.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She managed to say between bouts of laughter. She looked down at you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Are you? I hope I didn’t crush you too badly.”

You found the opportunity too perfect to not abuse. “I think you might’ve ruptured my spleen, and fractured 12 vertebrae.” You say, teasingly.

Vada couldn’t help but roll her eyes playfully, a smirk forming on her lips. “Oh, you’re such a drama queen.” She retorted, gently flicking your nose. Her body still lay partially on top of yours, comfortable and familiar.

“Trust me, you’ll survive. I bet your spine is made of steel or something.”

Vada’s playful expression quickly shifts as she hears the sound of footsteps descending the staircase.

She props herself up on her elbows, shifting slightly to make sure she’s off of you.

“Shit.” You mumble softly, your eyes focused on the door to the living room.

You found yourself scrambling to your feet, your breath still heavy and unstable as you find a seat back on the couch.

Vada follows suit, straightening herself up and making sure her hair isn’t a complete mess. She takes a seat next to you, her body still close, and subtly takes a moment to regain her composure.

Your heart races, knowing that whoever is coming down the stairs will be able to tell something has been going on.

Your mom walks into the living room, shocked to find Vada sitting next to you. “Oh! I didn’t know you were here Vada.”

Vada glances up as your mom appears in the doorway, her heart still pounding in her chest from the sudden interruption. She offers a small smile, trying to hide any hints of the intimate moment she had just shared with you.

“Hey, Mrs. Y/l/n.” Vada replies, sitting up straighter as if trying to appear more composed. “Just hanging out with Y/n, didn’t mean to surprise you.”

“It’s okay, you’re always welcome here.” Your mom looks at your beet red face, looking between us knowingly. “Don’t have too much fun.”

Your face flushes with embarrassment as your mom turns around to head back upstairs.

Vada watches as your mom leaves the room, a mixture of relief and embarrassment washing over her. She can’t help but notice the knowing look on her face, and the intense blush on your face isn’t helping her suspicions.

A smirk spreads across Vada’s face as she turns to look at you. “Your mom knows, she totally knows.”

“Gee, you think so?” You say sarcastically, reflecting Vada’s smirk.

Vada shakes her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “Oh, I know so. She’s got that mom superpower, you know? It’s like they can smell when something’s up.”

She laughs softly, shifting closer to you on the couch. “Your face was a dead giveaway. You looked like a tomato.”

Your face deepens a shade of red. “You of all people should know I can’t control that.”

Vada chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She leans closer, her arm brushes against yours as she teases you further.

Yeah, I do know.” She admits with a smirk. “But it’s cute. I like that I can make your face turn red like that.”

She bumps her shoulder against yours playfully. “It's a good thing your mom is cool. I don’t think she’d appreciate catching us while making out though.”

You found yourself swallowing your saliva, the taste of her tongue still lingering. “We’re lucky it was my mom, my dad would’ve killed you.”

Vada rests her hand on your knee. “Well, it’s a good thing your mom has a soft spot for me then.”

She squeezes your knee gently, still smiling. “But yeah, your dad would probably freak out, huh? Gotta be more careful next time.”

Her last few words echo in your head. “So, there’s going to be a next time?” You ask, the feeling of her hand on your knee sends electricity rushing through your body.

Vada’s smirk only widens as she notices the effect her touch has on you. She gently squeezes your knee once more.

“Oh, definitely.” She replies, her voice low and teasing. “Why stop when things just started getting interesting?”

Your breath hitches as she leans closer, teasing me with her presence.

Vada relishes the reaction she elicits from you. She leans even closer, her body pressing against yours on the couch. She can feel the rapid beat of your heart in your chest.

“You’re getting all flustered again,” She whispers in your ear, her breath fanning across your skin. Her hand gently moves to rest on your thigh, just about your knee. “I love that I can affect you so easily.”

Your body temperature rapidly increases under her endless teasing. “We should probably calm down before my dad actually catches us.” You say, disappointedly.

Vada lets out a soft chuckle, amused by your attempt to regain composure. She withdraws her hand from your thigh, reluctantly putting some space between you two.

“You’re right, we shouldn’t push our luck.” She agrees, nodding. “Your dad would probably go into full parent mode if he found us like this.”

She leans back against the couch, her body still close, but no longer touching you.

The sensation of Vada’s hand lingers on your bare thigh, missing her touch. “Maybe we can actually watch a movie now.”

Vada can’t help but notice the way your eyes linger on the spot her hand was, a satisfied smile on her face.

“That sounds fun.” She says, disappointedly.

You notice her mood drop before looking at the clock. “Or maybe-” You cut yourself off as your face flushes. “We can go to bed, it’s getting pretty late.” The hue of your face deepens as you imagine sharing a bed with Vada.

Vada raises an eyebrow, noticing the hint of red on your cheeks. She leans in closer again, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“Whatcha getting nervous about?” She teases, her hand gently touching your arm.

Your blush only gets worse under her longing touch, you break eye contact before speaking. “Or we can watch a movie in my room, whatever works for you.”

Vada notes the way you shy away from eye contact, your cheeks flushed. She grins, loving how easily she can get to you.

“Oh, so you just want to go to your room now, huh?” She teases, gently nudging your shoulder. “I see how it is. You just want to get me alone in private.”

She laughs softly, her hand finding your thigh as she gives it a squeeze. “A movie in your room sounds good. Your bed is more comfortable anyways.”

You found yourself shivering under her touch, standing unnaturally fast after she squeezed.

“I uh!-” You stammer, blushing. “Let’s head to my room then.” You say, failing to act nonchalant.

Vada chuckles softly as she sees you stumble over your words, clearly flustered by her touch. She stands up gracefully, her eyes fixated on you with a knowing smirk on her face.

“Looks like someone’s getting a little worked up.” She teases, slowly following you up the stairs, her footsteps light and nimble as she tries to contain her excitement for the night ahead.

a/n: heyy guys!! this fic was kinda an experiment for writing stuff like this. feel free to lmk how you feel about it and if I should write more intimate fics like this :)

[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!

-

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.

[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.

[aroooheartzzz]

Lights Camera Fuck!

Summary: You and Cairo Decided decided to make a little video for Mr.Miller

𐬺 Content! Smut, Lesbian Sex!, slight Pussy Slapping, Pet names!, Fingering, oral (f! receiving)

“You sure this will work Cairo?” Cairo’s eyes were filled with Desperation she only Smirked at you. Wondering what was going on in that pretty mind of hers. You both sat down onto the floor Cairo smirks at you before saying “take off your shirt”. You nodded before proceeding. Cairo looks at you with utter lust in her eyes.

“So damn pretty it hurts” She was inches away from your lips you could feel her warm breathe settling onto them, you leaned in to take the first kiss Cairo leans back causing you to chase after her soft pink lips. “Please Cairo”

“wait a minute Beautiful” Cairo gets up you saw her rambling for something, until she pulls out a black camera she sets it up to where it could see the both of you full body view. “ Now, please what?” Cairo smirks as she fully leans in to kiss you again her Tongue makes it way into your mouth. Heavy breathing could be heard.

Cairo’s hand slides up your back as she unclips your bra Letting it fall to the floor cairo pulls away staring at your perfect perky tits.

“How about we get started hmm” You Nodded more Desperately then you attended to. She Sits up on her knees as she pulls down her black leggings Cairo pushes you down roughly, she grabbed your panties tearing them from your body.

“Cairo! That was a new fucking pair” Cairo rolled her eyes, she crawls in between your legs, your wetness glistening in the Dim light. “so needy aren’t you” and in fact you were needy your pussy Ached for a touch or something. “Please Cairo touch me” and so she did her Tongue Licks while her mouth clenched itself around your clit sucking harshly.

“Taste so good Pretty girl” Cairo chuckled Darkly her Tongue working wonders On your pussy, your eyes began to roll back while your legs would tremble from the amounts of pressure and pleasure given.

“fuck!, oh my gosh! This feels so good Cairo I’m so fucking close” Cairo took this opportunity, sliding three fingers into you, she began speeding up as a result to get you closer to your Orgasm to which her Tongue and finger did just that perfectly.

Your legs began to shake and spasm rapidly, as you squirted all over the place including all on Cairo’s arm.

You started to calm down after a few Minutes later.

“Do you think he’ll like that?”

“Oh I think I’ll just keep a hold on this myself”.

[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!”

Ellie Alves

Hello...you

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!

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[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 🫶🫶🫶

[whoops-all-jennas]

Every Universe - w.a.

Wednesday x witch!reader

"Do you think we're friends in every universe?"

"I hope so."

Summary: You and Wednesday are walking to Jericho after Wednesday had her vision in the meeting house. You have a question for Wednesday which gets her stuck in thought.

Past Lives one-shot

a/n: might have somethings that don't make sense if you haven't read 'We'll Meet Again' or 'Past Lives' but most of this doesn't need that context.

My boots squish into the mud of the dirt path, the rain just stopping a moment ago. Your shoes follow the pace of mine, meeting the same muddy fate.

There is a comfortable silence between us. We never had to try to force conversation, satisfied with merely the presence of one another.

"This is a stupid thought." You begin talking over the occasional patter of water dripping off the leaves. "Do you think we're friends in every universe?"

I stop in place, my boots sinking deeper into the mud. You halt beside me, finding my eyes with yours.

"Like, maybe we're Sherlock Holmes and John Watson." You say with a smile, looking into my eyes as I respond with silence.

You look at the ground with an embarrassed smile as you continue walking. "I told you it was a stupid thought."

You walk ahead of me for a moment, the squish of muddy footsteps filling the woods.

I find myself stuck in place, as if the mud was holding me. The only thing I can think about is that red string.

I find myself smiling as you pull the lever on the blue slushie machine for me. "Tell me when." You say with a smile.

You stop before the blue ice overflows out of the cup. "I didn't say when!" I say, teasingly.

"It was going to spill over, Vada." You grab another cup, holding it under your favorite flavor before looking at me with an expecting glance.

I pull the lever, the colored ice filling the cup.

"When." You say, a playful smile creeps up on my lips as I don't let go.

"Stop!" You playful shout, pulling the cup out of the way as it overflows.

"Vada!" I can't help but giggle as you grab a bunch of napkins to clean your cup.

We're both walking down the street, the lights illuminating our dark path. I hold a grocery bag of sweets and other snacks in hand, my slushie in the other.

I glance at you as I loudly sip from my cup. You're staring at yours, lost in thought with a smile on your face.

"Do you think we get to do stuff like this is every universe?" You say quietly.

I stare at you for a moment, admiring your cute sentiment.

"Of course!" I say with a wide smile.

You raise your eyes from your cup, finding mine as you return the smile.

I'm reading your poem silently as you stand in front of me awkwardly. The warm lights of my bedroom creating the perfect cozy aesthetic.

Your poem clearly follows the idea of two souls destined to be together, no matter what.

I look at you above the paper after I've finished reading, unsure what to do or say.

"So, what do you think Cairo?" You ask, curiously.

I take a deep breath. "I'm not a big fan of the idea of soulmates."

You look at me confused. "What do you mean?"

I stand before sitting next to you in my bed. "Soulmates are destined." I say, holding my eyes onto yours.

"The idea of destined connection dilutes the experience of love." I inch closer, putting my hand on your bare thigh.

"I prefer the idea that we're together because we choose to be, our souls breaking the quantum chains that bind us apart just for a chance to feel each other's touch a moment longer."

You shiver as I caress your thigh. "The feeling of you forever lingering on my skin, itching for just one second longer, as if that would be enough to satiate my hunger."

You're eyes look through mine with infatuation, my 'fancy words' as you would call it always had this effect on you. I move my hand up to your cheek, looking into your eyes lovingly. "Our determination for just that one mere second guiding us in every universe. Even if fate defies us, we would rather die trying than to spare another moment apart."

I slowly bring my face closer to yours, feeling your unsteady breath on me as I glance at your perfect lips. "I would choose you in every universe. Not because we're destined to be, but because there is no one else I'd rather have."

You grab my face, pulling your lips to mine hungrily. Your arms move down, wrapping around my neck as you pull me down to lay on top of you. As our lips touch, I ingrain the feeling permanently into my mind.

I murmur awake to the sound of a heartbeat monitor. The pain of all my wounds from the Ghostface attack quickly settling in as I open my eyes.

I feel another sensation, the feeling of your hand in mine. After I recognize this feeling it's as if all my pain fades away.

My eyelids finally finish prying themselves apart to find you asleep by my hospital bed, hunched over in a chair. Even as you sleep, you tightly grip my hand, as if you're you're afraid you'll let go.

I find myself smiling, admiring you at my bedside. I squeeze your hand in an attempt to wake you.

You squirm a bit in your seat, your grip tight as ever.

Your eyes open, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Tara!" You jump awake, a noticable weight off you after you see my smile.

Your grip loosens for a moment before squeezing my hand once again. "I uh- How're you feeling?"

My smile widens under the mere presence of you. "Better now."

You place your other hand over mine, caressing my knuckles lovingly. "I'm not leaving this hospital unless you're leaving with me."

I find myself lost in your hands, watching your thumb gently move between my knuckles as if I could break if not handled with care. I always loved how gentle you were with me. You manage to make me feel like a beautiful flower, scared to damage my petals and stem that I only see as a part of me, but you see it as so much more.

"I hope you're there for me in every universe." I say, looking up from your gentle hands to your eyes. "I don't know how well I would have handled this on my own."

The heartbeat monitor fills the momentary silence between us, words forming in your thoughts.

"I know I'm there for you in every universe, the same way you're there for me." You look into my eyes as if they were windows, your emotions passing through with ease.

I focus on the caring sensation of your touch, allowing your love into the windows to my soul.

I look back on the vision of our past selves I had in the meeting house, feeling the red string that binds us inside me.

"Wednesday?" You ask, stopped ahead of me.

I pry my boots out of the mud, the deepest it sunk into the ground. My squishy footsteps fill the woods as I catch up to be by your side.

"I believe we're together in every universe, whether it's because we found each, or because we choose to." I say, attempting to hide the emotion that so strongly desired to be on stage.

A genuine smile replaces the embarrassment on your face before turning to continue walking, our comfortable silence resuming as we head back to Jericho.

a/n: heyy hope you enjoyed this super short thingie. I plan on making more past lives one-shots before s2 of Wednesday releases. feel free to request ideas for that :))

[ajortga]

truth be told

pairing: cairo sweet x fem reader

summary: when cairo catches herself falling in love, she also catches herself in lies that were destined to bite back in the end

word count: 4.3k

author's note: hi guys:)

-

Cairo Sweet wasn’t sure when she had started stalking you.

‘It’s not stalking, I just happen to know where she’s at’ she’d say, although at this point, she caught herself following suite wherever you went.

It began when she had the ability to start noticing. Of course she had noticed things before, like how Mr. Miller would tap his foot like a ticking time bomb, or how she’d know people were lying if their eyes flickered around too much. 

But it was a different kind of noticing. Noticing how you would be styled in jeans and a top that was her favorite color. It was a coincidence, she had never acknowledged you enough to share that her favorite color was navy. 

You and Cairo had gone through years of school together, yet you both had never come to a point where you became friends. It was strange, how you could know someone for such an obscure amount of time yet not enough to wave a hello?

Until, well, something had happened–you were both in Mr. Miller’s class, and Cairo’s wandering eyes had landed on you while you were writing words quickly on your paper. 

She shouldn’t have found you blowing your bangs to the side so hot.

What. The. Fuck.

Cairo didn’t know what happened.

In a blink of an eye, you began to appear everywhere, why was it after her? To just notice it now?

It started off small; she’d pack up slower when the bell had rung, and once you slipped out of Mr. Miller’s classroom, she’d stay a modest distance behind you just enough to know what your next class was.

By the end of the week, she knew every single class you had. She found out you went to your film class and forensics workshop for office hours. 

Suddenly, Cairo Sweet was chasing. Chasing you. God forbid how much she wanted to catch you, like you were some billion dollar auction to win.

And no matter how many fucking dollars someone bid higher than her, she would be the one to win.

You were a month younger than her.

You had an older sister.

You were vice president of your school’s class council.

You liked to read as much as her.

You went to the libraries on Wednesdays.

You went to sleep at 11:50 PM.

You woke up at 6:35 AM.

Your middle name is Y/M/N

Your father’s name is-

Yeah. It was like you were on Cairo’s board of interest. She was calculated, subtle.

The brunette knew that you were into literature just as much as she was. You more interested in the book assignments like she was the writing pieces. 

So, she had stopped by Mr. Miller’s classroom one day after school.

A knock of the door, then a creak open as her platforms stepped inside.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” she said politely, in a clear voice, slinging her bag to one side as she approached Mr. Miller.

He gave her a polite smile, “Cairo,” he greeted, “You’re lucky, I just finished a meeting, so you’re not. Do you need something?”

Cairo skimmed through her bag, pulling out the book your class was reading. “A favor, I believe I’m slightly trailing behind on the work you’ve assigned on this book. It’s not my cup of tea, so it’s been hard to read. By chance, do you have someone that might be able to help me with explaining the book better?”

She had spent an hour coming up with what to say for all of her answers to eventually lead to you.

Mr. Miller had thought for a moment. “Well, I do agree that this isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, because of the writing style. I suggest you look online for a in depth summary of each chapter.”

Cairo waited patiently.

“But, if you do need more assistance, Y/N has been exceptional with her work based on this book lately. I could ask her if she could help you, only if she agrees, of course. I can ask her tomorrow after class.”

Bingo.

“That’d be perfect, thank you.” Cairo said, her nonchalant voice definitely differing from the smirk that dared to appear on her face.

Mr. Miller nodded slowly, noticing the slip of excitement in her voice as he cleared his throat, “I’ll have to ask her, she does have quite the extracurriculars.”

-

“Cairo Sweet?” You asked with a smooth voice as you entered the room, closing the door of the empty classroom with your backpack slung over your shoulder. You turn to the light switch, turning it off as you switched on another, causing the whole entire room to be lit up with fairy lights.

Y/N, founder of a non-profit organization, captain of the-

You slip into the seat beside her, the light cascading your face in a warm glow. She didn’t realize she was boring holes through your face until you glanced up at her, causing her to look away. “So, Mr. Miller told me yesterday that you’re not quite caught up in what we’re reading. Shakespeare not for you?”

Cairo scoffed lightly, “I’m not into sappy romance, unfortunately. It’s more of, half the time the characters aren’t speaking in modern English. More like the medieval times.”

She was tangling herself in a lie. A lie that might bite back at her later. For the most part, Cairo had absolutely no issue reading the play. She silently told herself that she’d tell you later on. 

You pull out your books and notebooks, “I think that Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy more than romance. But I get what you mean. Here,” you point at your notes, “could you show me what you’ve written for each act so far? I’ll try my best to translate it to something you might understand.”

It was stupid, not being able to do nothing but nod. But at this point, that was all she was capable of.

-

The scent of Cairo’s bedroom was tainted with smoke as she took a hit from her blunt. She scribbled words on her journal that she didn’t even knew she would ever write. 

Sinful, dirty words, about somebody she barely even took notice of.

A flutter of eyelashes, that’s all it took for her to unravel in your hands like putty.

Yet, she couldn’t seem to stop. She never thought how much she could write when she was inspired. 

She was never a sappy person for romantic crap. She wasn’t like Winnie, who’d have a new crush every week, or end up with someone in her bed on Friday nights. 

The weekdays weren’t dreaded anymore. Yet–she felt like she was turning into somebody so corrupted.

Cairo began to shift subjects during your study sessions, ‘accidentally’ brush her hand against yours when taking notes, asking innocently for your phone number so she could ask you questions.

You text her, sometimes. Respond to her texts, tell her little things about your day, like how you were working on your big science project that meant so much to you, maybe text her about the things that you do after school, as if she didn’t know already. 

But gosh, you two had went back and forth one night till midnight. And, you had the audacity to send her a photo of your sleepy self with a messy bun and glasses on. Cairo had scanned the photo for a few minutes straight, how your cheeks were rosy pink from the salt lamp in front of you, your half-lidded eyes dazed with sleep.

Yeah, she had to send you off to bed after that.

Cairo knew that you were the person that could capture the eyes of anybody. You had straight A’s, you spent almost all your weekends volunteering, and you had never seemed to try hard to do what you were doing. You had won the science fair in your district and in the nation. Everyone was always excited for what you were working on now.

She’s seen you, you were that sweet girl, willingly offer somebody half of your home-made food if they were still hungry, pay for your friends food, you had even apologized to somebody who literally hit you straight into the face with a volleyball.

You were the person that people would take advantage of for your kindness.

It just seemed like each time she stepped closer to knowing you more, she’d tangle herself in little white lies. Lies that could’ve been prevented, like she was manipulating you with a persona she couldn’t even catch up with.

And every time, Cairo would take your friendly gestures in the wrong way. She’d savor every drop of the teeniest bit of attention you even gave her. 

When she’d see you smile at her, with a crinkle around your eyes, Cairo almost felt her stomach twist in knots. She had lied about a lot of things. 

She lied about not feeling well, crying so that you stayed with her during lunches. Cairo had told you that she had a sickness. She’d find herself putting an act as you were forced to abandon whatever or whoever you were currently with to sit next to her.

Each time she felt you grow distracted, she’d throw in a lie, to get pity, keep your worried, pretty eyes back on her. And the last thing Cairo would have never imagined herself doing, she had said her grandfather had passed away, from cancer. It was when you had told her you hadn’t been spending time with your family recently because of the three hour long tutoring sessions. Your friends either, Cairo had dragged you away at lunches.

You had knew how much her grandfather meant to her, you’ve heard about him a few times before. The feeling that Cairo was taking advantage of you scratched at her.

She was more than upset, she had other friends, but it made her frustrated. Cairo Sweet always won, she wasn’t going to let you start slipping away. The brunette didn’t even know why she did it, but after she feigned worrisome horror, it was too late. The web of lies keep growing. 

“Oh Cairo, shit. I’m so sorry.” You murmured, your eyes looking guilty.

Guilty for her crying about something that didn’t even exist.

Cairo could see how worried you were for her, how you started calling your friends. It made her bite her cheek, eyes boring at the floor in shame.

Cairo Sweet was a liar. And it’d be back to snap back at her.

It made her sick every time after, lying to you, yet she’d find herself crawling back to jump again.

The truth always bit back.

-

You felt yourself becoming closer to Cairo. She’d invite you at hers almost every night, and you would try coming at least twice every week. Maybe you were slowly drifting apart from others, but Cairo made you forget all about it.

Most of the time, you’d talk, listened, shared. She was sweet, she was Cairo Sweet, after all. And everything she’d say, you’d lend an ear and believe it. You liked her, she’d always be there at the right time at the right moment. 

You never knew how she did it.

Cairo found you beginning to lean your head on her shoulder, fall asleep against her, ask her to hang out on the weekends.

One day, she hoped it would be more. To have the title of a girlfriend.

It was perfect. You were perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

It was another typical day, she approached you as you closed your locker, “Y/N.”

The familiar voice caused your head to turn to her, your eyes crinkling as you smiled, “Hi, Cairo,” you replied, walking alongside her as you both headed to your next class, conveniently being Mr. Millers. “Hope you aren’t tired out today by the rain.”

You watch her as she rolls her eyes playfully, shaking her head as she looks back at you, “You wanna come over to mine and bake later? I’m supposed to be helping fundraise, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep some for ourselves.” The two of you snicker as you nod and head into Mr. Miller’s class.

“I’ll have to see, I was planning on working on my science project since I’m so close to practically inventing some sort of robot. I’ll have to show you, it’s been working so well with the programming lately-”

“Well, let me know, I’d be happy if you came.”

Somehow, it was the second day you ditched researching for your project. Maybe she should’ve let you keep working on it, whatever you were working on seemed really important to you.

By the time you two went back to her house, you both were stirring the batter of your cupcakes and cookies. 

Cairo was having fun, she could sense that you were too. In the span of a few weeks, you grew comfortable with her, not having to prepare what you were going to say to her without making the conversation awkward. 

You found yourselves laying on her bed as the goodies were baking, you were curled into her, yawning. It was peaceful for you, your quiet thoughts drifting. She feels you turn to observe her, hesitant.

“Do you miss him, sometimes?” 

Cairo looked at you, propping up. “Who?”

“Your grandfather.”

It takes Cairo a few moments, you can see it too. You would say you were good at reading people. But something in her movements didn’t align correctly. 

You would’ve thought that there would be a moment of sadness in her eyes, nostalgia, melancholy. Her eyes always spoke to you, shining, dimming. Yet, they didn’t share the feeling of grief. It was small, but you couldn’t miss the confusion, then full on flicker of panic in her eyes, before in a blink of an eye, it was gone.

Cairo swallows, picks at the skin at the edge of her nails, “A lot,” she forces, avoiding your gaze as she began to travel back to all the times she lied to you about her grandfather. Fuck. What did she talk about? She can’t remember.

Cairo can’t remember.

She sticks to being silent for a moment, “I think that he was the closest thing I had to a best friend when I was little. He always took me out to get ice cream, make secret treasure maps. I think a part of me, well, my whole family died when he passed away from his heart attack.”

She senses something, a shift in your form as you tense slightly. She turns and tilts her head, a question of what happened.

“I thought you said he passed away from cancer?”

Shit.

Cairo straightened, thoughts scrambling as her mind grew foggy. “I mean, yes, he did pass away mostly due to cancer. But the heart attack was.. Well, it was what was the reason it caused him to pass away so early.” 

Please don’t ask anymore questions.

She had ran, ran away from her lies, but they started running faster.

Please let it go.

She could see the way you were studying her, the slight furrow of your eyebrows. She knew that something wasn’t adding up in her timeline. But after a short moment, your eyebrows fell and you leaned back. “Oh, I see.”

Cairo let out a long breath when you scooted closer to her and closed your eyes for a small nap.

-

You wrapped yourself further into your project, your room filled with notebooks of coding, engineering, and all of the information of your possibly new invention of a robot that could help the world.

It meant having to turn down weekend plans, small gatherings, meet-ups with Cairo.

Oh boy. 

The timer for Cairo had ticked again.

She shouldn’t do it. This was something that was important to you.

It would only be till the span of the deadline and you’d be hers again. Hopefully.

But she couldn’t stop. She was already so close to snatching you. 

Just this last time. She’d stop. She promised herself. 

Like the broken promises she had made after each lie she told you.

She had gotten an idea. It wasn’t a good one. Well, it was genius for her. Perfect for her. But she knew that this idea would indefinitely break you and your relationship with her. She was putting it at risk a very high one. If you found out, Cairo knew that it would be over.

She was jeopardizing your relationship, your project, your future,

She would jeopardize you.

And if she ever saw the look on your face once you knew it was her, she’d never forgive herself.

She should stop.

Yet it wasn’t enough for her to stop.

In the morning, Cairo woke up jittery, biting the side of her cheek. The stirring feeling in her stomach stayed as she walked to school, slipping into the hallways.

It had to be quick; you had told her that you were going to drop off your project in Mr. Miller’s classroom and show it to him after class. Cairo couldn’t erase the thought of how proud you looked when you said it, your eyes saying it all. 

Cairo breathed in deeply, shaking her head, pulling a strand of her hair as she cursed. This wasn’t a fucking game. Why couldn’t she just wait a few weeks?

You had spent months researching, building, adjusting. It would take Cairo statistically 8 seconds. Then she’d be out, and by the time she walks to class with you, she’d be hero again. She’d be the killer for 8 seconds, then the rest she’d be the hero long enough to forget about it.

Cairo knew that Mr. Miller would be out with Coach Filmore on Tuesdays, he’d leave the keys in the front office till the time they both came back, with some sort of black coffee.

The brunette was calculated, having a printed schedule she wouldn’t be using as she walked into the office. Nobody batted an eye. 

The next thing she knew, her hands grazed over the doorknob that was under the words

J MILLER

Pressed down slightly, and pushed as she didn’t bother turning on the light. Her hands roamed around the solid, flat area of a wooden desk, searching. She squinted until her fingers hooked against the loophole of the keys and charms of what she was looking for. Holding it in her hand as it jingled, she rushed out.

-

It was at least 15 minutes before the bell would ring. She’d have 10 to make it back and return the keys.

Cairo’s eyes were trained on the building in front of her as she walked, keys jingling, her hands just in reach-

“Hey, Sweet.”

Your soft voice pulled Cairo out of the frenzy she was in as her heels spun quickly. 

“Woah there. Goodmorning to you too.” You giggle, studying her unbelievably pale face. “Are you okay?”

You could read her expressions. You could read anybody in a blink of an eye. But Cairo knew that you could read her better than anybody else. 

“Sorry, yeah, a little jittery. Too much coffee this morning. I really have to do something at the moment, but-”

“Coffee?” You ask, giving her a confused, lopsided smile before it almost shifts to a straight line. “I thought you said you were passing on coffee this morning because it made you feel all weird after lunch.”

Your tone was accusive, just curious, it sounded a little raw.

“Well, I guess I lied to myself,” Cairo tried to joke, she had 12 minutes. She really needed to get into that room.

Before you could say more, your friends waved you over, calling your name. 

“I should go,” you say instead, eyes flickering back to her. You sighed, realizing that she had already fled into the building, the jingling slowly fading away.

Cairo rushed through the empty hallways, the sound of her footsteps following after her as the keys clinked together when she inserted it in through the keyhole and turned it.

The silent click of the light switch was all the noise Cairo had made–beside her breathing that shouldn’t be this ragged.

Her eyes scanned the desks, searching. She gripped onto the keys as she walks between the desks, feeling regret begin to pool in her stomach.

She had 6 minutes, it’ll only take 8 seconds. 

Her plan was stupid. She didn’t know why she was going to do it. Cairo slowly took your robot lying so perfectly, untouched, and perfectly program on your desk, into her palms. She just had to snap it so it would be enough to snap wires, enough for you to be pulled back from her invisible string and cry while she comforted you.

Comforted you for her own wrong doing.

8 seconds, 4 minutes and thirty seconds.

Cairo felt the eyelashes caress her cheeks as she closed them, gripping onto your months of work. She breathed deeply, placing her hands on opposite sides.

She could just put it back.

Cairo began to bend, until she could hear the struggle of wires, the small chip of plastic, the door opening-

“Cairo?” 

Your voice was soft, unsure, your hand trembling on the doorknob as you watched the fallen angel holding thousands of hours of work in her hands turn around slowly. Her doe eyes were like the one’s of a deer in headlights. 

The room was quiet, the only noise was a buzzing sound signaling the failure of the robot in Cairo’s hand. And if you counted it, the loud, guilty beating of her lying heart.

She wanted to explain, tell her that her lies caught her in every reckless and stupid action she had done. Yet, the vocal chords of her words died in her throat.

Cairo Sweet was a manipulator of many things. Feelings, people, the truth. But, the only thing that she never wanted to manipulate was you. Yet, she had manipulated every part of you. 

To have you catch her, even when she wouldn’t even fall.

The look in your eyes made her feel like she shoved a dagger through your heart. Yet, your voice was soft enough to make her feel like you'd still be the one to say sorry even if you were the one bleeding out.

“Y/N.” She paused, “How did you- I didn’t-”

You pull out a keychain, jingling it. “I heard,” you mumbled, voice much different than it was 5 minutes ago.

It was only 8 seconds.

You looked at her, trying to understand. And even though you never did, you still raised your hand up slightly to interrupt. “It’s okay, Cairo.” You murmur, she could hear the way a sense of hurt laid beneath, “Really. I wish you could’ve just told me you were here.”

You walked towards her, but you weren’t looking at her, you focused on your broken robot. The room was quiet as you slowly kneeled down, shattered pieces of plastic and glass on your hands. The ripped wiring was making a buzzing sound, and you felt your heart grow heavy. You were supposed to turn it in a week by now. The damage was too much to fix in that amount of time.

It was meant to get you a scholarship.

The way you stood silently somehow made her feel worse than if you were to yell at her. Your face was unreadable as you slowly began to get up.

You couldn’t see Cairo’s expression, but her eyes moved upwards when your voice came, quiet. “You didn’t have to do that.” You murmur, voice emotionless, yet, it sounded so bitter, so unknown. After all, you had never been like this with Cairo. 

But you force to look at her, tilting your chin up. She could feel the string between you two unraveling.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this.”

You were already biting holes on the inside of your cheek, “You didn’t mean to break my robot?” The tone in your voice was almost sarcastic.

“It’s just that you didn’t have time anymore and I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. You and me.”

“And you decided to break my fucking robot that I’ve spent months working on instead of just telling me?” 

“Y/N, please, I’m sorry.”

You close your eyes, try to steady your breathing, your voice softening. “You could’ve just told me. I would’ve came.”

Cairo saw the way you were spiraling, your body trembling from how overwhelmed you were. She stepped closer, yet you stepped away. “I can’t even look at you right now,” you sniffed, turning away from her. It was only then that she realized that you sounded like you were about to cry.

You head towards the door, opening it. “I should go. Don’t bother coming after me, okay? I.. I need some time to think.”

Cairo stood in the empty classroom as the closing of the door had echoed through her surroundings. She could’ve stopped, yet her lies would always bite back.

The next few days, the brunette hadn’t heard anything from you; no more silly photos of you, sleepy voice messages, stupid memes.

cairo 1:24PM: can we talk, pls?

cairo 1:24PM: i just want to talk and explain about what happened

cairo 2:13PM: y/n 

Please don’t do this to me.

Cairo Sweet had always been reckless. She would’ve been the one to flee, to leave. Yet, you never know how much someone really matters till they walk away–and only then did Cairo realize that for the first time, she wasn’t the one leaving. You were.

You would’ve always came back, but Cairo took advantage of it. Pried on it. Took too many risks that the truth had came back.

Now, her kitchen was quiet, lacking the sound of laughter. Passing periods were boring, peeking the corner where your locker was to find that you’ve completely relocated where you walked.

She thought she could bring you back to her, doing this. But she had never felt farther. She was so close. But you caught her.

And Cairo would have to live with knowing that she had broken the one thing she had wanted most.

-