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folkvangr-seidr · 4 days

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i heard your name [ii]

“i want you so, i can hardly let you go, please be mine for a time, now and forever”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after several weeks of trying to run in the opposite direction, you find you can no longer evade the magnetic pull yanking you towards her

warnings: explicit but gender neutral sexual content, being used both physically and emotionally, 'lover boy' is used ironic and is still considered gender neutral, implied teacher-student relationships

word count: 6.4k

A/N: definitely making another already because it’s kind of getting juicy. again inspired by pale fire and hot summer nights.

===+++===

You had always heard that people looked like their pets, but it had never occurred to you that someone could look like their house. Standing in front of Lovell Hill, it was impossible anyone else but Cairo Sweet lived there.

The building stood tall, with white towering ionic columns that reached to hold up the dark clay tile roofing like soft angelic hands lifted to the sky. Everything about the house was big, with a giant, wide cedar porch and a towering balcony that looked out over the small garden in front of its door.

You had figured Cairo was well off from her clothes and general overabundance of education, but this screamed a wealth so extreme it almost wasn’t computing in your brain. Not with your own tawdry house that had only been built two years ago and was about the size of Cairo’s home if you sliced it by a quarter.

You had seen homes like these in movies or on the home improvement channels. Most motels had the home improvement channels on the TV, and you had watched with a sense of awe, sitting on the mouldy carpet late at night with your mom asleep behind you, looking at the muted tours of the homes with a private envy.

Such grandeur was incomprehensible and didn’t exist beyond the screen and TV magic. Or, that’s what you thought until you stood at the end of her garden, with all its greenery and a few lines of flowers, looking up at the front door.

It was quite the dilemma, to knock or not to knock. You could turn around right now, save yourself a whole bunch of sleepless nights and half a brain if you just told her you felt sick and had to cancel. She’d be annoyed, sure, but maybe Cairo being angry was better than Cairo being hungry.

You weren’t all too sure you wouldn’t try to satiate her hunger, and that was a dangerous game to play. Since she had sat down beside you in class, fleeting had been slowly drifting away, and you found yourself clutching onto what little of it you had left, rebuking the witchcraft that seemed to tug you to her.

You were about to do that, walk away, but then the door to the balcony swung open, and out Cairo came, leaning over the railing with a smile, and you felt your own heart clutch to your ribs. She propped her head up on her palm, peering down at you.

“Are you coming in?” She asked, laughing. “You’ve been standing there for ten minutes.”

“I’m just looking. At the landscaping,” you called up to her, and it was mostly true, though Cairo laughed like you were being funny. You felt a blush rising to your cheeks. Fleeting, you idiot.

“It’s my parents’ house. I know it’s a bit much,” said Cairo, standing up straighter.

“A bit?” you said, the sarcasm worming its way into your voice. It was a lot much.

“Yeah,” she replied, smiling at you again all bright. “A bit.” You smiled back, holding a hand up to cover your eyes so you could continue to stare at her on the balcony in the sun, like your own Juliet.

“Can I come inside?” You asked, taking a few steps forward into the shadow the roof of her house casted over the ground. Cairo seemed to find a playfulness with the question, and you were left there like a moron, wondering why she was laughing again.

“No, actually,” she said. “I invited you here to make you walk over here and then walk home.”

“Did you."

“I did,” she nodded, having fun. “I’ll be down in a minute when I’m done with something; the front door is unlocked."

"That seems unsafe," you said.

She raised her eyebrows at you. "Why, are you worried for my safety?"

You shrugged, deciding neutrality was the best policy. There wasn't anything wrong with saying you were worried about her as a friend, but you knew she would draw some strange entendre. "I would worry about random people wandering in, to be honest."

Cairo shook her head. "Not here in Tennessee. Now go inside. The longer you stall me the longer it takes me to finish what I'm doing." With that, she disappeared back inside, leaving you on her porch. You swallowed the lump in your throat and went inside.

Cairo Sweet's house was much like her soul, in grandeur and in wealth. Even in the foyer, which was where you found yourself, the walls seemed to reach up much like the pillars, raised towards the covered sky. A grand staircase led up to the second floor, and with the soft closing of the door behind you, Cairo called out from up the stairs.

"You can go into the kitchen, I left some wine out on the counter."

You blinked. "Wine?" You said back, making sure you were hearing correctly. Cairo's laugh floated down from the second floor.

"Yes, 'wine.'" You had never had anything like wine before, though the way she threw it out so casually made you think she was no stranger to the concept.

The kitchen was the room right off to the left of the foyer, with a large bay window and some checkered ceramic tiling on the floor. In the centre sat an old gas range stove, a similar shade of green as the walls. The brass handle curved down to the drawer on the bottom, and it looked like a droll little mouth underneath the knobs.

On the white marbled countertop that boxed the stove in was a set of two glasses and a bottle of reddish wine that was three quarters full. The entire room was immaculately clean, with the perfectly angled chairs sitting around the nook table in the corner and the utterly spotless surfaces, both floor and table.

It looked just like those staged houses on the home improvement channels, and you wandered over to peer into the glass hutch, which was piled up with books in stacks around it. The top cabinet held an array of glassware, some of them gathering dust. They were pretty, and you leaned in to the ceramic ones with antique designs etched into the sides. You wanted to own dishes like those, someday.

"The plates are pretty, aren't they? It’s a real shame about the led.” You spun around to find Cairo behind you. Your heart immediately started doing a backflip in your chest. Cairo was no longer in the soft shirt and shorts she had been wearing on her balcony— no. Instead, she was now in a silky cream-coloured dress, one that clung to the curves of her body and hung elegantly from her shoulders in a way that made the tips of your ears warm.

She walked right up to you as if there was no difference, staring at the plate you had been looking at with what couldn't possibly be a genuine curiosity. Up close it was clear she had put on some makeup, her lips glossy and pink and her eyes dark. She had to know she was playing you like a fiddle.

You watched her in laser focus as she nodded at the plate. "My parents bought that one from a village in the Swiss Alps."

"What?" you mumbled, clever as always.

"The plate," she said, like it was obvious. "Most of the plates in there are from Switzerland or China."

"Oh...cool."

Cairo brushed past it, gesturing back to the bottle that sat on the counter. "Would you like some?" she asked, clasping her hands behind her back.

"But what would your parents say?" you asked. Mostly you were looking for any excuse not to, but you were also filled with curiosity. Cairo Sweet hadn't just fallen out of a coconut tree— she was the product of whatever her parents were like and you desired to put two and two together, and for that to make it make sense.

"They're not here right now," she replied, walking right over to the bottle and pulling the cork straight out. You swallowed but followed her over, and Cairo grabbed a glass to pour it into.

"So you live here?" It was a genuine question, and part of you was still struggling to understand that this was just someone's everyday lifestyle. Cairo nodded.

"That's what Winnie asked me too, when she first saw it. People say my house is haunted."

"They do?"

"Yeah," she said. "Lovell Hill. It's famous, or at least around here it is."

"Well... is it true?"

Cairo shook her head. "Sorry to disappoint. Only thing that lives here is me."

"And your parents?"

Her mouth thinned into a line at the question, but she spoke quickly. "Yes, them too." Then Cairo held up a glass. "Would you like some?"

"Uh, no thanks. We should probably start on the assignment...," you trailed off. Cairo was staring you down with a certain glint in her eye. “What?”

"You've never drank before," she said. It wasn't a question, and you could feel heat going back to your face. To any other person, you'd have no problem saying no, but to her you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"Uh, I have, I just don't want any right now," you lied. And Cairo knew you were lying, judging from the smile she watched you with. But she only shrugged.

"You can have some of mine later, then," she said, straightening up and walking out of the kitchen. You followed her like a proper guest, like she was a tour guide helping you through the jungle. You warily tailed her out of there and up the stairs.

On the landing there were even more books, in large, towering stacks near the railing, ended on each side by potted plants and small floor decorations. You stopped, taking a thick paperback from off the top of one stack and turning it over to read the back. “Have you really read all of these?” You asked. Cairo turned.

“Not all of them, no. Most of them belong to my parents, so they’re cheesy spy thrillers and soapy romances.”

You nodded. “My mom reads those ones too.”

“Anyways, what do you read?” Cairo asked, walking over to you and taking the book from your hands to look at it herself. You shrugged.

“For a while there, anything I could get my hands on.”

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, just that my mother didn't take me to bookstores a lot," you said, having gotten comfortable with lying. In reality, you had mostly read travel books and magazines from gas stations, since those were really the only places you and your mother stopped often. You didn't start actually reading book-books until you were about ten, and your mom bought you a kindle for your birthday.

But giving Cairo the truth would mean telling her you were on the road a lot, which would mean telling her about why it was you moved so often, which would mean telling her you would probably be leaving soon, so you lied. It was typically a better idea to vanish without warning one day, off to another state like you had been one giant bad dream.

"Mm," she hummed it agreement, putting the book back down and leading the way into a door that stood at the far end of the hall. "My parents didn't either, when they realised I bought like ten or twelve at a time," she said, tugging you into her bedroom.

It was exactly like you could have imagined it, with a darker shade of green and ebony wainscoting that matched the grand bed in the middle of the room with fluffy, lush bedding and a near mountain of pillows in the centre.

"Well then," Cairo drawled. "Shall we?"

The smirk she was staring at you with sent a shiver down your spine. You gave her a cautious nod and pulled your backpack off of your back.

===+++===

You had your paper almost completely done within an hour of laying down on Cairo's bed to write it, though in the corner where Cairo sat typing hers, she seemed incredibly frustrated. You had only been observing her a little, watching her type what could've maybe been a few words and then immediately holding down the delete key until they were all gone.

You understood to a certain extent— windows were so unbelievably symbolic it was possible to go in millions of directions when writing your story. But you were almost done, and inspiration had hit you from the moment you knew what your symbol was meant to be.

You put the final finishing sentences in where they were meant to go, and put down your pen, sitting up to crack your fingers and stretch your back. Cairo looked up at you, eyes glaring.

"You're finished?" Her tone was sharp, and you looked around the room in surprise.

"Yeah?" You replied. Cairo narrowed her eyes at you.

"How," she demanded sitting up in her chair and slamming her laptop shut.

You shrugged. "I don't know, I kind of rushed it anyhow."

"Let me read it, (Y/n)," Cairo said, holding her hand out. You leaned forwards and tossed the paper to her, rolling over onto your back to stare up at the ceiling while she read it. She had one of those popcorn roofs, with bumps all over it, and you found yourself tracing a little path in your mind.

"This is..." she said after a few minutes. You turned your head to look at her sideways. "This is really good," said Cairo, but in a way that made your eyebrows furrow.

"Why'd you say it like that?" you asked, sitting up from where you had been laying.

"Like what?" She asked standing up from her chair and walking towards you, to lean on one of the bedposts. You swallowed.

"I... don't know," you muttered.

"Hm," she hummed. "I have a question."

"Yeah?"

"The astronaut. The one who goes crazy in outer space from looking out the window on his solo mission. Is that supposed to be you?"

"Oh. No, he isn't. He's just a character I thought of," you shook your head. Cairo raised an eyebrow at you.

"But he is a lot like you, isn't he? Alone, I mean. That's why you lied to Winnie about lunch." She got you with that line. You stared at her, frowning. Your mind screamed LIE over and over, but you knew there was no point. Not when she was reading you like a book. She took another step towards you, until she was standing in between your legs where you sat. You hadn't realised there was any connection with the astronaut when you thought of him, but maybe he was?

"Are you lonely, (Y/n)?"

"No? I mean, I don't think I am." It came out in a whisper; you didn't need to speak loudly when Cairo was so close. You could feel her hot breath on your cheeks like a fan.

"I've been thinking of you, since you arrived," Cairo murmured. Her fingers crawled up your knee slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing the hem of your shorts. She looked down at the small space between you.

"Yeah?" You asked.

"You're captivating," she said. "It's annoying. Shrouded in mystery and answering to no one."

"Yeah?" Pink was flushing towards your cheeks.

She smiled, looking up at your face again. "Yeah. It would be less distracting if you didn't come with such nice eyes."

You swallowed. It felt like everywhere her fingers went she left behind a trail of pure fire, churning up your insides. Your mind was screaming at you to not be an idiot. You'd probably regret this in a month or two when your mom told you you would be leaving again. Stop, right now and save yourself so much sleep, you idiot. That would've been the smart thing to do.

Her hands came up slowly, skimming gently up your neck until they landed at the nape, and you were reminded of the lollipop she had plucked from your lips to place in her own for a moment.

"Cairo, what're we doing?" you managed. Cairo shrugged.

"You ask me that but I'm not entirely sure. I just know it feels nice," she whispered to you. "So shut up and let me feel nice," she said with a smile.

Within an instant, her lips pressed hard into your own. You pulled your head back in surprise but Cairo's soft palms held you firmly where you sat, and you found yourself melting at the feeling. It was messy and it wasn't graceful, but it spoke of the passion that bubbled under Cairo's removed exterior. She started to move against you then, and you against her.

You found yourself entranced at the sensation, and pulled away just to get a look at her face. She was breathing heavily, lips red and eyes wild, and you only came back wanting more, reconnecting the both of you, your hands moving to her waist and then up her back.

"Cairo..." you mumbled, her lips moving to your jaw and then hastily to your ear.

"Mm," she hummed.

"Cairo, I can't," you managed, trying to pull away but finding her still on you. Your mind was yelling at you horrible, horrible things, not only about yourself but about what you wanted to do to her.

"Mm," she sounded again, moving down your neck in a way that left you tingly.

"Really, I just—"

"Take my hands off of you, then," she challenged, in between peppering kisses and sucking on a spot directly over your pulse. You shivered.

"I can't."

"Well, I guess we're at a crossroads," she said. Her right hand slid down your chest to the hem of your shirt, sliding gently underneath and laying itself flat against your stomach. She smirked when she reconnected your lips, knowing she was winning.

"This is a really bad idea."

"You talk too much."

"No, because this is really a conflict of interest. We're supposed to uh..." you stammered, getting distracted by he hand on your stomach slowly getting lower and lower, creeping towards the top of your shorts. "We're supposed read each other's stuff and be honest."

Cairo stopped, pulling away, raising her eyebrows at you. "Are you serious? You don't want to have sex with me —when you've been practically eye-fucking me since we met— so that you can be an honest peer grader???"

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds stupid."

"That's because it is stupid."

"I— I just can't do that with someone."

She scoffed. "Are you waiting until marriage or something?"

"No."

"Are you asexual?"

"No."

"Is it Winnie?"

"No."

"Do you like boys?"

"No!"

"Then why? I mean, come on. We both knew this would end one of two ways."

"We're better off as just classmates, trust me."

Cairo blinked at you for a moment, like you were the most confusing person she had ever met. Then she got up off of you. Your lap felt lighter, but also emptier, and you wanted to scream up at the stars for not being able to just indulge this one little desire.

"Fine," she said, and her tone caught you off guard. Most people would probably be upset or angry, but it just seemed like Cairo was challenged and endeared. Like she was going to work out your problem and get right back to this situation, only this time she'd get exactly as she wanted.

She wouldn't, you promised yourself. Never ever. The heartbreak wasn't worth it. Cairo checked her watch. "Could you come over tomorrow too? I'm not done with my story yet, and I want you to read it."

"Uh," you thought out loud. You didn't see why not. Maybe you wouldn't be lovers, but just innocent friends? You weren't so much a monster that you wouldn't be able to stop yourself if you hung out with her. Innocent friends were much easier to forget anyways. "Sure," you said, unknowingly giving her exactly what she wanted.

===+++===

You had gone to her house almost every night for the past week, laying on her bed while she sat in the corner in the same familiar chair, typing the same bloody story that she refused to be satisfied with. It was becoming a pattern, even an unconscious one. The next day had been entirely as awkward as expected, with you trying to act as unbothered as possible.

The friendship was going better than you had anticipated, and you were very pleased with your own self restraint. Winnie had come over too, once or twice, and you enjoyed existing within the context but still on the periphery of a friendship.

Cairo Sweet would hunt you down as her friend or as her whatever-you-were, so you figured giving into one would be the path of least resistance anyhow.

She must have been an insanely picky writer. She wrote every word with an overabundant caution, like she was trying so hard to craft perfection. It was like she wanted her keyboard to drip liquid gold onto the page, and the critics to all collectively clap when she finished a sentence.

"You're like George R. R. Martin with how slow you finish a story," you had said once, out of the blue. Cairo looked up at you, offended, and thrown a pillow in your direction that connected with your face.

"I'm trying to cultivate perfection of the written word," she said, and you rolled your eyes.

"God, writers are so pretentious," you wrinkled your nose. "The only people who like to read annoying writers' books are annoying people."

Cairo scoffed. "Yeah, what, you want to be surrounded by James Bond fans? Stephen King fanboys?"

"That's cool, though," you shrugged. "Gets the point across, isn't badly written, and makes a sometimes beautiful passage along the way."

"Oh, so your writing," she joked, smiling at you. It was an innocent smile, and one that so starkly contrasted the lustful one she had looked at you with only a few days ago. Even in memory, her eyes sent a shiver up your spine.

"Yeah, well, people seem to like it. I guess I’m doing something right," you said. Cairo frowned.

"I don't get it," she shook her head. "And you still won't let me read that first one you wrote."

"It's not exactly something I want to talk about to you."

"Why? Is it bad?" she asked, sitting up straight. You knew she meant 'tell me your dirty secrets' by that.

"I just don't want to."

"Hm," she grumbled, laying back in the chair. "And anyways, if what you say about that thing is true, I don't know why Miller liked it. His book is full of the flowery stuff you complain about."

"He wrote a book???" You were incredulous.

Cairo nodded. "A while ago. Apostrophes and Ampersands."

"Never heard of it."

Cairo shrugged. "It didn't exactly make massive waves. It was ingenious though. Grand and tragic."

"You read it then?" You asked, sitting up and turning towards her.

"Yes, I did," she replied nonchalantly. "I enjoyed it."

You looked out the window for a moment, then back to her. Friends should be friends. "Can I borrow your copy?"

===+++===

"God," you groaned, reading Mr. Miller's book with it held over your head, laying on your back. Cairo had given it to you two days ago and now you were slogging through it, waiting for it to get interesting. "'Human ruins of a madman's love,'" you mocked.

"It's gorgeous," Cairo said. She wasn't in her usual chair, she was sitting by the window with it cracked open, a cigarette in her hand.

"It's not— wait, are you smoking?" You asked, sitting up. Cairo rolled her eyes, grinning at you.

"No, I'm just sitting here with a cigarette lit in my fingers."

"God. Wine and a cigarette, what are you, thirty-four."

"Shut up," she said, putting the cigarette in between her lips and puffing out the window. "And anyways that quote is beautiful."

"Maybe," you challenged. "But what is it actually saying?"

"She means everything to him and he's going crazy for her," Cairo said, like it was obvious. You nodded.

"That's the thought and THAT'S what's good there. That's universal. He's losing the plot— getting lost in the sauce— of trying to sound like he's saying something, to the point where he's losing the entire meat of the message."

"Maybe," said Cairo. "But you said one of your books was If You Give a Mouse a Cookie. Not exactly the height of literature."

"And I stand by that," You said. "That's actually enjoyable. You don't enjoy reading this, you enjoy being clever enough to read this, when it's saying something you've heard a million times in a million more decipherable ways. And those ways end up being more beautiful, too.”

"Perhaps," she said. "Or maybe I think the writing is beautiful."

"Well then, I think you're crazy."

"You're welcome to do that," Cairo replied, smile still wide. "You probably will."

===+++===

You managed not to cave until a warmer day, about a week after that. Cairo Sweet had previously been a sweet exterior with absolutely nothing on the inside for you to feel a deep pull towards. Only now, after slowly becoming comfortable, was the magnetic pull becoming physically painful.

Winnie had been absolutely beside herself, miffed at Cairo coming down and swiping you for herself. For a friend or for something more, it didn't matter. You were indisputably hers. And after a life of belonging to no one, you thought maybe Cairo took some sort of glee over making you belong to her.

Class was boring, Mr. Miller was fine, your mom seemed to be doing better, and school seemed to drone on. So when you came back to Cairo's house like normal, you were entirely unaware of how quickly you would fail your mission.

You were barely in door before she was running down the stairs, and the look of worry and surprise in your face only worsened when she got so up close to you, just for a second, and then just as hungry and hurriedly as before, kissed you with a brutal ferocity.

You were taken aback. Something was off. You pulled your head away and Cairo's palms pressed to your cheeks, thumbs brushing against the side of your face. She pulled you back and you had to turn your head away. "Cairo, what—"

"Shut up for once, please. Just kiss me the way a girl wants to be kissed."

You could feel every neuron telling you to get away from her. This was exactly what you had said you didn't want. And then there was the other side of you. The one that wanted to take her right then and then. You swallowed.

"I can't do these kinds of connections, Cairo. I told you."

"That's fine," Cairo rushed, her hand resting on your shoulder blade now. "I need one thing from you, and that's it. I don't ask for much, but I really need this."

Your eyebrows furrowed at her. "What are you talking about?"

"You've said you don't want anything, and okay, that’s fine. At least give me your body for the night. No strings attached.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me. We just do whatever this is. You make me feel good, and that’s it.” Her fingers had slithered back up to your hair, scratching gently at your scalp in a way that pulled your focus.

It just took a final glance at her face, for the dam to break. Her cheeks were a dusty red, eyes dilated and staring at you, and though you cursed yourself and your idiot Cro-Magnon mind, your palms went to her legs, tugging her up harshly and wrapping her legs around your waist.

“Shit,” you muttered, highly aware this was probably a bad idea. Cairo wrapped her arms around your neck, kissing you with a smile, and then once that broke, a passionate fervour. It was so much but it was so good. You carried her like that, up the stairs to her room, throwing her down on the bed.

She flipped you over, sitting on your lap like she had been back when the both of you first tried this, and it was all too intoxicating. Cairo’s hands went to your shoulders, pushing you back against the mattress before she leaned over, kissing you softly for a moment until it grew into more.

“Wait—” You said, and Cairo sat up, glaring at you.

“You did not get me all the way up here just to back out now,” said Cairo, annoyed beyond belief. You shook your head, tugging her back onto you. Her hair fell around you like a shield to your little private moment.

“I’m not backing out,” you promised, whispering because you felt like you didn’t want to be too loud. “I mean I’ve never … before.”

Cairo smiled at you, looking into your eyes for a moment. “Me neither,” she whispered back.

“Really?” you asked. Cairo raised her eyebrows.

“Fuck you.”

“No,” you shook your head, hand reaching up to move some of her hair out of her face. That wasn’t how you meant it. “…Really?”

She paused, eyes boring into yours. Then she gently nodded, and lowered herself down onto you, placing her lips on yours for another divine moment. It was all too hot in there. She let out a gasp when you tugged down her skirt.

===+++===

It was about five weeks after you had arrived, and you had gone to Cairo's house almost every week day, to continue exactly what had latched around your throat and tugged you harshly towards her.

There, in the milky white lighting of Cairo's table lamp, with her body snugly laying back against you and her book out in front of her, you fell in love for the first time. Really, fell in love.

Not the kind of "love" that swirls around your head as a child and wraps around the leg of the pretty girl in your class who has shiny hair. That kind of “love” where you can't get out a real sentence while talking to her. In comparison to the heavy feeling growing in your chest like a tumour, that was a mild liking.

No, this was the real thing. Adults had always said cryptic things about love, like "when you know, you'll know," and it hadn't ever really made sense, until it did.

As you looked down to watch her nose scrunch from the Nabokov, those three little words took on a whole new meaning. Her dark hair tickled the bare skin of your chest where she laid. Unlike her you still hadn't put your shirt back on, and you shivered a bit, even from under her blanket and her body heat. Her eyes, dark and focused, scanned across the paper, before elegantly flipping past the page with her thumb.

It was one of those renaissance paintings people cried for, in the Louvre, only it was playing out right in front of your eyes. And with that sudden rush of messy emotion, came the dastardly realisation that you were truly fucked.

"You're staring," she said, pulling you from your thoughts. She looked up at you, curious eyes focusing on your own. "What're you staring for?"

You shrugged, the movement shaking her against you. "What's the book you're reading?" You asked. "You seem mad at it."

She hummed, leaving her finger as a bookmark and flipping the cover towards you. The cover read Pale Fire. "That's because it's mostly incoherent rambling," she said. "Makes no sense."

You raised your eyebrows at her. "You don't understand Pale Fire?"

She tilted her head back, challenging you. “And you do?" You nodded. You had written a report during the two months you were in Maine. "Of course you do,” Cairo groaned, rolling her eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Cairo shook her head, patting the side of your leg with her free hand. “Nothing.”

You sat up. “No, seriously. What do you mean?”

She sighed, closing the book around her index finger to hold her page. Cairo shut her eyes for a second, choosing her words carefully. “I mean... you’re annoyingly clever at something you don’t really care about.”

You laughed. "Careful, Sweet. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."

"Well, I am," said Cairo. "I care about writing so much, and here you come along with literally no passion for it, and you're out-writing me."

"Uh, sorry?" You said with a smile. But the frown you saw on her face told you she wasn't really joking. Cairo scoffed, sitting up and turning towards you.

"No, I'm serious. You barely even try and you spill some amazing few paragraphs, and Mr. Miller loves you like you're his favourite student," she lamented, throwing her hands up in frustration.

"I promise," you sighed, "that I really don't mean to. I don't get it either, so—"

"—See, but that's what's so frustrating!" She cut you off. "You don't mean to. You don't mean to get in my way, but you do because you're so unbelievably perfect at everything, and Mr. Miller loves you so much."

"Okay, wait a minute," you said. "That's not fair."

"What's 'not fair' is me working my ass off until senior year to get to do what I've ALWAYS wanted to do, WRITE, and then you come along and pull all the praise and probably the recommendation letter too!"

You sat there for a moment, taking her words in, your mouth open in surprise. There had always been an inkling that Cairo was unhappy with having you in her class, but you had drowned the thought out with her lips on yours and treasuring every moment you made her smile with something stupid you said.

You cleared your throat and Cairo was already apologising. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that," she said, reaching towards you. "It's just so important to me, I get really worked up..."

"It's fine," you rushed. You knew people screamed and said nasty stuff when they were mad. It's just how people were, and it made sense to you. Your mom was like that too, with the yelling and stuff. "Do you..." you mumbled, trying to figure out how to solve her problem. "Do you want me to stop trying?" You asked.

Cairo's eyes lit up within an instant at the idea. "That would be amazing," she breathed. "Thank you so much." She reached across the space between you, kissing with a softness that hadn't previously been there. It was sweet, just like she was, and you breathed a sigh of relief, with the confrontation being over.

You nodded. "Sure." Then your gaze went out the window, realising the sun was starting to set and rain clouds were starting to form. Your hand flew to your leg, having forgotten you were only in your underwear.

"You left it downstairs, remember?" Cairo said, almost playful. When the two of you had gotten to her house, her lips had been so firmly ravaging your neck that your pants hadn't even made it up the stairs before she tugged them off and flung them to the marble bust that stood nearby. You sighed.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, getting up from the bed and around to the other side to pick your shirt up off the floor. Cairo also got up, throwing the sheets off herself and walking right over to her closet.

"No, I left my phone at school on accident," she replied, opening the door and flicking through the hangers. You pulled the shirt on over your head and fixed the soft collar. On the opposite side of the room, Cairo pulled out the same cream-coloured dress she had been wearing when you first came to study with her. You paused.

"You're getting all fancy?" You asked, turning to her floor mirror and attempting to fix your absolutely messy hair in a way that it wouldn't be clear Cairo had run her hands through it and gripped on tight.

"Mhm," Cairo said. "Having a guest over tonight."

"Oh. They work with your parents or something?" You said, turning to watch her with curiosity over her answer. Cairo pulled off her shirt so that she was now completely naked. She turned back to you with a smile.

"Do you like what you see?" said Cairo, and it made you blush a bit. You nodded.

"You're absolutely beautiful," you said. If you weren't worried about getting home before dinner, you would have walked right over to her and tugged her back into her bed. Cairo waved you off.

"You're too kind," she said. "Now run on home, lover boy." Cairo disappeared into the bathroom with the dress in her hand, and you heard her rustling around with the sink, probably doing her makeup.

"I... I guess I'll see you, then," you said, left alone in the room.

"Mhm," she called from the bathroom. You frowned, but did a final scan for anything you needed to take before heading out her bedroom door and down the stairs, to where your jeans were clumsily thrown over the Roman statue's head. You tugged your phone and keys from the pocket.

"Fuck," you cursed. Only around thirty minutes to get the whole way across town to your house before your mom started worrying. You walked right over to the door... only to find it was also pouring down rain, now. Dammit. You tugged on your jacket from where it had been hanging on a steel coatrack by the door, pulling the hood up.

You walked out onto the porch, shut the door behind you, and took off running, going as fast as you could down the garden and then up the street into the woods. You got about a hundred metres from her house, that was, until you stopped.

Driving right past you, barely able to see him in the storm, was Mr. Miller. Driving right to Cairo's house in his little sedan. You froze, stopping dead in the rain to watch him go. Even after his license plate retreated in the distance, you felt a sickening sense of dread begin to pool in your gut, one that was already tarnishing your prior bliss.

===+++===

part three perhaps? i also have a tara carpenter one in the works and a lorraine day that's mostly done so hopefully i'll be updating more frequently

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folkvangr-seidr · 7 days

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"i hope that heaven will be a pleasant world just as you envisioned it"

i'll miss you, buddy 💔🖤

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folkvangr-seidr · 8 days

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amnesia

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

summary: in which you run into jenna after years apart

warnings: mentions of a car crash

word count: 1900+

author's note: here it is! the super depressing fic! definitely could've been even more depressing, but the concept itself is so sad to me.

college au!

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” you said as you pushed past people.

You were rushing through campus, desperate not to be late to class for the fifth time that semester, and it seemed that no one was safe from your path as you weaved in and out of others, cut through groups of friends, and nearly tumbled into a professor.

You glanced down at your watch--just for a second to make sure that you still had time--but your feet didn’t stop moving, which resulted in you ramming directly into someone. You let out a groan as you crashed to the ground, landing hard on the cement.

“Dude, watch where you’re going!” you heard someone chastise from your right.

“Sorry, sorry. That was my bad,” you apologized as you pulled yourself to your feet. You hovered above the woman that you had knocked over and held your hand out to help her up. “Are you alri--”

Your question was cut short as the woman looked up at you, a frown on her face and her eyes narrowed in annoyance. A chill ran down your spine as you took a step back, your hand falling to your side and your jaw slacking. No, you thought. It can’t be.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she huffed, and you couldn’t help the tears that sprang to your eyes at the sound of her voice. She still sounded the same. She stood up, dusted herself off, and then looked at you. “But you seriously need to, like, slow the fuck down or somethi--” She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, and you swallowed hard. “Are you okay?”

It took you a moment to find your words. “Y--yeah.” You could feel your breathing quicken the longer you stared at her, and your heart was thumping against your chest, threatening to break right out of your ribs. “Why?”

She tilted her head. “Well, you’re…crying.”

“Am I?” you mumbled, bringing a hand to your eyes and wiping them. Sure enough, they came away wet with your tears. “Sorry. It’s just…”

“Did you get hurt when you fell?” she asked quickly, and you clenched your jaw, trying to keep your sobs at bay. Even when you were at fault, she was still worried. She hasn’t changed a bit, you thought.

She took a step forward, her hands out like she was ready to inspect you, and you breathed out a soft, “I’m okay, Jenna.”

She stopped in her tracks at the sound of her name and raised an eyebrow, obviously confused. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking over your answer, and settled on a simple, “Yeah.”

Realization washed over Jenna’s face, and for a moment, you thought she remembered you--it was a foolish thought, you understood later--until she said, “Oh, we must’ve gone to high school together.” She shook her head and chuckled. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember most people from high school because of--”

“The accident,” you finished.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she blinked once, twice, before saying, “Right, of course you’d know. It was in our town’s newspaper for, what, three months after it happened?” She scoffed and glanced down. “Nothing interesting ever happens in that damn town, so obviously they had to highlight the poor girl with amnesia, right?”

Jenna looked back up at you when you didn’t respond. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Uh…” You swiped your tongue over your bottom lip nervously, and, faintly, you could feel yourself beginning to shake. “I have to go.”

“Wait, but--”

“I’m really sorry for…for crashing into you.” You spun on your heel and headed in the opposite direction, leaving Jenna standing alone, watching your back as you went.

* * *

You were pacing around your dorm room, your phone pressed against your ear. “Come on, come on. Pick up!” you whined, and you sighed with relief when you heard that familiar click of the person on the other end of the phone answering the call.

“Y/N?”

“Aliyah!” you exclaimed. “Hey.”

“Are you good?” the girl asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but, uh, I think the last time we spoke you failed to mention that Jenna goes to the same college as me.”

There was some rustling on the other end of the line, and then Aliyah’s hurried voice. “Did you see her? Run into her? Talk to her?”

“All of the above.”

“Oh, shit,” she muttered. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I completely forgot to mention it.”

“No, yeah. It’s, um, totally fine.” You sighed. “I’m totally fine.”

A silence followed. Then, “She didn’t remember you, did she?” Aliyah’s voice was soft, sad, pitiful, and you sucked in a shaky breath.

“No,” you admitted, the tears coming back. “No, she didn’t.” You stilled your pacing and sat on the edge of your bed. “I mean, I should’ve known she wouldn’t, but actually experiencing it, again…God, Aliyah. It was--” You clenched your eyes shut and swallowed down your cry. “It was horrible.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, that I forgot to warn you. It just totally slipped my mind last time we talked.”

You shook your head. “It’s not your fault.” You laid back, pressing yourself against your mattress like it would swallow you whole. “Is she…is she doing okay?”

Aliyah sighed. “Yeah. Well, you know, as okay as she can be. She still talks about how there’s gaps in her memories, obviously, and most of it’s, well, you, not that she knows that.” She inhaled sharply and asked, “So, what’re you gonna do?”

“Ignore her for as long as I can?”

“Y/N…”

“Aliyah, your mother would probably crucify me if she knew Jenna and I were in contact again. It’s best if I just…stay away.” The words broke your heart, but you didn’t see any other solution.

“Look, you guys are adults now,” Aliyah pointed out. “It’s completely different than when her accident happened, you know? Plus, you could be a physical presence in her life again. That’s what my mom was worried about.”

“I know.” You pressed your free hand to your eyes. “I don’t know. It hurts, being around her and knowing she doesn’t remember anything about us--knowing she doesn't remember me.”

“Yeah. I get it. But, when you two were together, Jenna was the happiest I ever saw her.” Aliyah sighed. “I think you should try. Maybe…you two could get there again.”

You swallowed, the very idea of being with Jenna causing butterflies to stir in your stomach like you were in high school again. “Yeah,” you chuckled. “Like that'll ever happen.”

“I mean, hey. You never know.”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t think I’m gonna try, Aliyah. I mean, you say she’s doing well, and I don’t wanna…confuse her, or anything.”

“Y/N, I really think--”

Knocks on your door pulled your attention away. You stood, Aliyah still talking in your ear, and crossed the room before cautiously opening the door. You nearly dropped the phone at the sight of who was standing there.

“I’m gonna have to call you back,” you said, interrupting whatever the girl was saying. You didn’t even register if you got a response as you hung up, your eyes still trained on the woman in front of you. “Jenna.”

She smiled carefully. “Y/N. Hi.” She glanced behind you. “Could I come in?”

“Uh, yeah.” You opened the door wider. “Sure, of course.”

Jenna slipped inside and sat on the edge of your bed. You shut the door and joined her, leaving a few feet of space between your bodies.

You opened your mouth, shut it, and then said, “How did you find where I live?”

“Oh.” She chuckled. “I just asked around if anyone knew who the woman that practically ran me over was.” She smiled. “It took a while, but I finally found one of your friends. I told them I needed to talk to you, and they led me here.”

“Right.” Your eyes flitted around the room. “So, what’s up?”

Jenna swallowed. “I need to know who you were to me.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at her, anxiety filling your veins. “W--What?”

“I have gaps in my memory, because of what happened, and you said we went to high school together, and I just need to know how I knew you.” She tilted her head. “Please?” she whispered.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I just…I want to know if you were someone important to me.”

You shut your eyes, ran a hand down your face, and said, “Okay.”

“Okay.”

You inhaled deeply and tried to quell the shake of your legs. “Well, we met when I moved to town in freshman year. You, uh, showed me around the school, and we became friends almost immediately.

“Before winter break started that year, you…asked me out.” Her eyes widened, mouth falling open. You looked away. “You…you handed me a gum wrapper and it said ‘will you go out with me?’ and there were two boxes underneath. Next to one of the boxes was the word ‘yes’, and next to the other box was…also the word ‘yes.” You chuckled at the thought and ignored the fact that that gum wrapper was still tucked away in your wallet.

“Anyway, we dated for”--you sighed--“for two and a half years.”

“What?” she mumbled. You looked at her. Her eyes were wide and glossy, pooling with tears as her bottom lip trembled. You desperately wanted to reach out and cup her cheek, the way you used to, but you didn’t. “Two and a half years?”

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah.”

“What happened? Why did we…”

“We didn’t want to break up,” you admitted. “But, uh, during spring break of our junior year, my parents told me we were moving again when summer started.” You clenched your jaw. “We wanted to make things work, you know? We were determined.

“And then, the night before I was supposed to leave, you were driving to my house. It was dark, and some kids had messed with the stop sign on the corner of Maple and Elm, and you…” Tears were falling from your eyes. You pressed the heels of your palms against them, willing them to stop. “You got into your accident.”

“Oh,” Jenna whispered.

“I made my parents delay our move, and I waited by your hospital bed for four days until you woke up.” Your voice was shaking, and you glanced up at the ceiling, unable to look at the woman as you said the next sentence. “The first thing you said to me when you were awake was ‘Who are you?’”

The tears were falling faster, and you bit your bottom lip. “Your mom…after learning about, you know, your memory loss, thought it would best if we just…cut contact.” You nodded. “I wasn't gonna be a physical presence in your life anymore, and she didn't want things to be more confusing for you than they had to be. So, I went home, and I blocked your number, and your socials, and she did the same thing on your phone. Deleted all the pictures of us, too.”

You glanced at her, catching sight of her own tear-streaked face. “She erased me from your life, made sure no one talked to you about me, because she thought it’d be easier for you, Jenna.” You gulped. “Which is why you have those gaps in your memory. It’s because that’s where I slot in.”

Jenna reached out, placed a hand on your shoulder. You shivered beneath her touch. She was trembling. “So we--we were…Were we in love?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Yeah.”

She frowned. “I’m sorry I can’t remember it.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, not daring to raise your voice too loud in fear that you’d break down. “It’s not your fault.”

“I wish I could. I wish I knew you.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I wish you knew me, too.”

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folkvangr-seidr · 11 days

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Luck Runs Out |Part 11|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: Drugs, Blood, Guns, Fighting, Killing, Death, Murder (I think that's it?)

Word Count: 6.1k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You had your hands shoved in your pockets as you made your way to the dock. Mabel didn’t live far from the docks, well not far by car, on foot though, it was a decent walk. A part of you wished Mabel could have given you a ride, it wound have been quicker and you would have gotten to spend more time with her. Having Mabel drive you though wasn’t worth the risk, you didn’t know how much they knew about her but the less they knew the better, if they saw you getting out of her car they could drag her onto the boat with you, intending to use her as leverage.

You jumped when tires screeched next to you. You whipped around ready to fight when you saw the black SUV with its dark tinted windows. You didn’t have time to do anything else before the passenger door opened and a large man jumped out and quickly threw you into the back seat. You pressed yourself against the nice leather seat, your eyes darting around the car.

The guy who had tossed you into the vehicle was the same one who had nabbed Charlie, the one driving was another man you recognized working for your boss, and then in the seat next to yours was your boss. The boss had this chin resting on his fist, looking out the window, looking as if he was contemplating life. He didn’t even so much as turn towards you, you didn’t dare speak, they needed you to get the drugs but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t do something to you before you even got to the boat.

“I needed to make sure you’d actually show up,” your boss said, still not looking at you. “Hope you enjoyed your goodbye.” He turned, looking you dead in the eyes, you saw no remorse staring back at you, you knew your goodbye was really your last goodbye.

You sat silently in the car, only moving when the car hit a pothole. When the car finally pulled up to the docks it was still dark, the sun had just barely begun to peek its head above the horizon. At least you’d get to see a nice sunrise before you died, you silently thanked Apollo or whoever was pulling the chariot that day.

The driver got out, opening the door for the boss to effortlessly slide out. The guy in the passenger seat got out at the same time, opening your door before dragging you out of the car, making sure to flash you his gun, letting you know what would happen if you tried to run. You wanted to roll your eyes, if you wanted to run you never would have been making your way to the docks. You watched as the driver opened the trunk and the boss grabbed a large black duffel bag out of the back, cash, a lot of cash. You furrowed your brow; you didn’t know what the boss needed so much money for. The duffle you gave the doctor to cover Mabel’s debt had tens of thousands of dollars in it but even it wasn’t stuffed as full as the one your boss was carrying around.

The guy guarding you aggressively pushed you to follow the boss and driver. Your boss led the way, the driver behind him, you behind the driver, then the lackey guarding you behind you. Despite the boss clearly not being afraid of you, his men were doing everything they could to keep you away from him while his back was turned. You followed along silently, occasionally feeling a hard shove to your shoulder as you all made your way down the ramp to the boats. You looked at the boats as you passed, wondering which one you’d be getting on. They blew up your crew's boat when they killed them, you weren’t sure how quickly they came up with another boat.

The boss came to a stop, raising his arms with a wide smile on his face. “She’s beautiful!” He yelled.

You looked around him, seeing a large fishing vessel. It was definitely much bigger than your crew's boat but wasn’t as nice, they didn’t have all the shiny new toys yours did, not that it helped much with the heavy load of drugs, your boat still nearly tipped. A man on the deck grumbled something you couldn’t hear before waving all of you up, you assumed he was the captain.

“We should have gone into business together a long time ago my friend,” your boss said, smiling widely at the captain.

“Where’s the money?” Is the only thing the captain asked.

Your bosses laughed; he flung the duffle bag down at the man’s feet. The captain huffed as he kneeled down, unzipping the bag. Your eyes widened at the amount of money, looked to be hundreds of stacks of twenties. Twenties were a small enough bill to not get flagged like hundreds or fifties but a big enough bill that they didn’t take up as much space like ones, fives, or tens.

“There you are my friend,” your boss said. “One million dollars.” The captain smirked before reaching down to grab the duffel bag. Your boss was quick to click his tongue, the driver, stepping up behind the boss and putting his hand on the gun that rested in his waistband. “Not until we’re at the coordinates.”

The captain huffed glaring at the boss who remained unflinching. When the captain finally glanced at the driver he backed down, not before his eyes went to the gun, the driver had no problem pulling if needed.

“Are we ready?” The captain asked.

“Just waiting on a few more,” your boss said, smiling. He zipped up the duffel bag before hoisting it up and tossing it at the driver who slung it over his shoulder.

Not even a moment later you could see two more SUVs pull up, five men piling out of each of them. Even from the boat you could see all the men were strapped with some sort of gun from a handgun to automatic rifles. You clenched your hands into fist, hoping that would hide the shaking.

“Now we’re ready,” your boss said, smiling at the captain.

The captain looked around nervously at all the armed men who had now boarded his boat. He nodded, fidgeting with the baseball cap on his head before turning and going to the wheel. One of the armed men followed him, probably to make sure he didn’t try to backstab anyone and radio the coast guard or something when you got far enough out to sea.

You remained on the deck with your boss and the rest of the armed men. You caught site of your boss staring at you out of the corner of your eye, but you refused to look at him. You kept your eyes locked on the floor, only shifting when the boat went over a larger wave. You were used to the sea, the way a boat swayed, and the waves crashed around it, you gave a ghost of a smile as you caught a few of the men stumbling and struggling to stay up right.

You glanced around the boat, it seemed to be a standard fishing boat. There were a couple barrels, crates, and nets, all things you were used to using when bringing in a catch. There were some ropes in one corner of the boat, along with extra cannisters of gas. The boat had definitely seen years of love, it was quite large, you wondered how big of a crew the captain usually had working on it.

You finally looked up when you felt the boat start to slow down. You looked around seeing nothing but ocean on all sides. “This is it!” the captain called down, dropping the anchor.

“It better be,” the boss mumbled, flicking a glance at you. You held his gaze until he turned around to give his men orders.

You walked to the edge of the boat, aware of your guards' eyes on you, just waiting for you to make a wrong move. You glanced over the side and stared down into the dark depths of the ocean, from the top it seemed like an endless abyss that would suck you in and never let you go. There were no landmarks, it was the middle of the ocean after all but assuming the captain followed your coordinates correctly then you were in the spot you nearly died. About a week ago you were standing on a different boat, with a different crew, under different circumstances, in the exact same spot. You survived death once; you didn’t think you’d be so lucky a second time.

“Suit up,” your boss ordered. Your head snapped to him, looking on as a few of the men he brought with him stripped down and began putting on wet suits.

You stood quietly by as a handful of men went into the ocean, all of them in scuba gear, and one of them holding straps to latch onto the pallet of drugs that they’ll be able to connect to the hook that will raise the drugs. You waited up top as the men swam down to the dark depths, until they’d eventually touch the ocean floor. You waited, unable to stop yourself from eyeing the radio in the boss’s hand.

As the last man flipped back into the water the captain came down to the deck. “Alright, can I have my money now?” He said impatiently. It wasn’t like he could go anywhere but the man was working with drug dealers so it wasn’t like you could blame him.

Your boss rolled his eyes before turning to face the captain. “Of course,” he said with a smile. He nodded at his bodyguard who tossed the bag of money at the captain’s feet.

The captain instinctively bent down to reach for the money again before freezing and looking up at your boss who gave him an annoyed nod. The captain smiled as he bent down the rest of the way, opening the bag even wider to get a better view of all the money. He pulled out a stack of cash, flipping through it as the smile on his face only got bigger. He dropped the stack back into the bag before zipping it back up.

“The wonders this money will do for me,” the captain mumbled more to himself than anyone. The captain went to the side of the boat, resting his hands on the edge as he stared out across the sea. The sun was just beginning to rise, and you had to admit it truly was a beautiful sight.

You caught the movement out of the corner of your eye before you could register what was happening. Your boss quietly moved so he was standing right behind the captain, he pulled out the gun strapped to his waist, pointed it at the back of the captain’s head and pulled the trigger. You jumped back at the blast, your eyes wide open as the bodyguard helped the captain’s body the rest of the way into the ocean, tossing him over the side as if he were just more trash.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” your boss said, shrugging as he walked over to his bag of money. “Put this somewhere safe,” he gestured at the bag, nodding at his bodyguard.

When he turned to face you, you could see little flecks of blood from the splatter on his cheek. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest as he made his way over to you. Your entire body went rigid when he swung an arm around your neck, the barrel of his gun tapping your chest whenever he moved.

“You know how to work that, right?” your boss whispered in your ear, pointing his gun in the direction of the machine that lifts the net with the catch. He phrased it like a question, but you knew it wasn’t. You could only nod your head. “Good,” he tapped his gun against your chest again before abruptly releasing you.

You let out a shaky breath, watching as he walked over to his bodyguard. The bag of money was sitting off to the side, never too far out of reach of one of the boss’s men. Four men went down to retrieve the drugs, leaving the remaining six up on the deck. While the bodyguard never left the boss’s side the other six men walked around the deck or through the cabins of the boat, all their eyes watching for anything amiss.

You weren’t sure how long you waited on the deck, you didn’t move from your spot, your gaze remained on the ocean, watching as the waves lightly crashed against the boat, making it sway back and forth. The water was still bloody from when the captain went into the ocean, but there was no sign of the body. The only reason you were aware of time passing was because it was officially light out. The sun wasn’t high in the sky, it was still pretty early in the morning, what was probably normal hours for the average person waking up and going to work. The ocean truly looked beautiful any time of day, reflecting the moonlight or the sun glistening off the top of it, forever unable to reach down to the dark depths of the bottom.

You jumped when you heard the radio in your boss’s hand crackle. “Go again?” your boss said, clicking the button as he raised the radio to his mouth.

The radio crackled again. “We…” one of the diver’s voices came, through all the static. “Found… it…”

The boss glanced at you, clicking his tongue as he nodded to himself. “Load it up.” He continued to hold the radio close to his mouth, so he was ready when they gave him word that the load was secure. “Guess you weren’t lying,” he directed at you.

“Load… is… strapped… down…” crackled through the radio.

“Come on up.” He strapped the radio to his belt and nodded at you to go to the machine.

You quickly did as asked, your eyes widened as you stared down at the control panel. Lifting the load was never your job, you had done it a few times, but you definitely weren’t the best person for it. Luck seemed to be on your side for a bit longer because the control panel was relatively simple to work, it had the lever to lift the haul, the lever to direct the crane, and the button to drop the hook.

You waited at the control panel until you saw the four divers’ surface, then you carefully maneuvered the crane over the water and dropped the hook into the ocean. One of the divers swam to the hook to grab it and swim it back down to drugs so he could secure it in place while the other divers climbed back aboard the boat. You watched as the cord connected to the hook continued to move the deeper the diver brought it, a part of you wished it was too deep for the hook to reach.

“Load… is… locked… and…” a voice crackled through the radio at your boss’s side. “Secure…”

The boss looked at you, giving you a nod. Your hand didn’t stop shaking until it was resting on the cool handle of the lever. You slowly began pulling the lever down, the machine whirred as the cord tightened and began to retract. You kept your eyes on the surface until finally the tip of the pallet broke through the waves. A loud noise made you flinch; you glanced to the side to see Your boss had barked out a laugh, he was smiling wide as the pallet got further out of the water. Within minutes the pallet was fully raised and hanging off the hook in the middle of the air was millions of dollars’ worth of drugs.

“Good, good,” the boss said, coming up and slapping you on the back, hitting your injured shoulder. “Now, keep it steady,” he whispered in your ear. “We have business to attend to.” You could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of your face, but you refused to look at him as you hit the button, making sure the pallet would stay in the air.

Your boss kept his arm around your neck as he directed you away from the control panel. He walked you to the edge of the boat before finally releasing you. You stared out across the ocean, out of the all the things you could see before your life ended, you had to admit there was nothing like the sea, it felt fitting.

“Walk forward,” your boss ordered. You hesitantly lifted your foot and began inching your way to the side of the boat. With each step you knew you got closer to your death. “Stop.” You instantly came to a stop.

You couldn’t help the tears that filled your eyes as you stared off across the water. Soon you’d be one with the sea, your body lost forever to the dark abyss, your soul forever bound to the ocean floor. You reached up, your finger brushing over the trident necklace that still rested under your shirt. Maybe you had redeemed yourself enough for Poseidon to have mercy on you, you wouldn’t make it to Elysium but maybe he would consider reincarnating you as a tiger shark. You closed your eyes when you heard the click of the revolver pointed at the back of your head.

A loud nose broke through the wind, making you jump, your eyes snapped open. Your eyes darted around seeing the boat and the ocean, you hadn’t died yet, then the noise happened again. The noise hadn’t been the firing of the gun, it was a horn from a boat. You looked around, seeing a boat coming up on you in the distance. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw Finestkind across the front of it.

You spun around, knocking your boss’s arm out of the way causing him to fire the shot meant for your brain into the side of the boat. Before he could recover and aim the gun at you again, you flung yourself over the side of the boat and into the water. You held your breath, opting to stay underwater. You didn’t know what was happening above, but you saw dark outlines of a handful of people looking over the side of the boat. You quickly pushed back, swimming under the boat as bullets rained down where you had just been. You peeked your head out from under the boat seeing the shadows of the men looking over the boat, trying to catch a glimpse of you or your body. You went further under the boat when you saw the shadow of the Finestkind getting closer.

You popped out on the other side of the boat, making sure to stay near to keep yourself hidden. You could hear the boss shouting orders, his men screaming, and more gun fire. You couldn’t see them, but you heard another boat engine and felt the waves as it most likely passed by, you could only assume it was the Finestkind. Suddenly something grabbed your ankle, you had just enough time to take a big breath of air before it was yanking you down to the dark depths of the ocean. You could only watch as the light above slowly began to face. You tried kicking at whatever attacked you, all you knew was that it didn’t feel like teeth. When you whipped around you saw the light from a diving mask illuminating a diver’s face, the diver who had gone back down to secure the drugs.

He grabbed you by the waist, yanking you deeper as you struggled against him. You hit and punched at his chest before finally getting your hands around his mask and ripping it to the side. While he struggled to readjust his mask, you reached for the knife strapped to the side of his leg, then kicked him in the chest, sending him floating further away. You began swimming to the surface again, just as you were about to break through you were yanked back down again.

This time you quickly spun around, not hesitating as you swung the knife around, stabbing him in the neck. You ripped the knife out, your eyes widening as he brough a hand to his neck, but his blood still seeped out between his fingers, tainting the surrounding water. He reached out for you with his other hand which you easily dodged. You used one hand to push him away, watching as he slowly sunk down into the darkness, the light from his mask slowly disappearing.

When your head burst through the water you couldn’t help but take several deep breaths. You spun around, trying to regain focus, the shooting being what brought you back. You swam to the boat, then swam around to where you could pull yourself up onto it. You stayed crouched down, seeing your boss and his men shooting at something, when you peeked your head a little higher you could see the Finestkind circling around, dodging most of the bullets, you couldn’t see who was driving the boat or anyone else thankfully.

When one of the men got close to your position you popped up, slicing his throat before he had the chance to see you. You liberated him of his gun before he fell into the ocean. His body must have made a loud splash because one of the other guys turned around before you had a chance to duck and hide again. Your eyes widened at seeing his gun facing you, you lifted the one you had just taken and fire, nearly losing control of the automatic weapon but managing to hit the guy.

You ducked down again when two more men turned to face you, instantly firing. You covered your head as bullets flew above your head, piercing the wood you were hiding behind. You heard firing from two more weapons, different weapons than the boss and his men were using. There was a thud and another thud and the bullets sailing past your head suddenly stopped. You peaked around the corner only to see the two men that had been firing at you lying dead on the deck.

You slid to the other side to peek around the other corner, seeing your boss and his men hunkered down. Lifting your head a little higher you caught sight of Charlie and Costa crouched down and running across their boat. Before you ducked back in cover you saw one of the men raising his gun, aiming it at Charlie’s head that was just barely poking out. You raised your gun and fired, filling the man’s back with bullet holes. The guy he was next to reacted, sitting up taller as he aimed his gun at your position but was instantly met with a bullet to the head by Costa.

There was nothing for a moment, just the sound of the waves rocking the boats back and forth until you heard someone grunt. You peeked around your corner again to see the Finestkind had drifted closer and two of your boss’s men were able to jump aboard and were now fighting Charlie and Costa. You swung the strap of your gun around your shoulder before running and tackling a third guy before he could jump aboard the Finestkind.

You got a few punches in before the guy shoved you off himself. The two of you stood face to face circling each other, waiting for the other to make a move. The man got impatient and charged you, but you dodged out of the way, using your knife to slice him across the ribs as he passed you.

He did the same thing, running at you full force, his arms wide to tackle you. You ducked under his arms, grabbing one of his arms, twisting it behind his back with one hand while the other brought the knife to his throat. You held him pressed against you as you pressed the knife further into his skin, surely drawing blood. You turned around, keeping his body in front of you. You kept your head hidden behind his as you stared straight into the eyes of the guy who had kidnapped Charlie and forced you into the SUV.

The guy smirked before raising his gun and fired bullet after bullet into his own man. You kept the guy’s body upright as you pressed forward using him as a human shield. When you were close enough you pushed his body at the man who had been guarding you. While he was distracted you grabbed his hand, hitting it against the latter, trying to get him to drop his gun.

Distracted in trying to get him to drop his gun you didn’t realize he had pushed the others guy’s body out of the way, giving him full access to grab you by the back of the hair and slam your head into the railing of the ladder. You collapsed to the ground, reaching up for the ladder to try and regain your footing. When you looked up, through your spotted vision you saw the guard pointing his gun at your head.

Behind him you saw Tommy coming out, shooting one of the men that had been attacking Charlie. You couldn’t help but smile despite your predicament, the blood from your nose dripping down into your mouth.

“What the fuck are you smiling at?” the guard asked.

You could only chuckle as you saw Charlie flailing through the air as he landed on the guard. You scooted out of the way, only able to watch as Charlie and the guard struggled on the ground, taking turns punching each other. Charlie put both hands on the gun, trying to twist it out of his hands. There was a loud bang, your eyes widening as both men froze.

You released a breath when Charlie sat up, his shoulders relaxing. You couldn’t help but scoff at the guy who forced you into the SUV, the guy who was an enforcer for your boss, was now just a guy with a bullet in his chest. Charlie pulled himself to his feet and held out a hand to you, helping you to your feet as well. You both turned when you heard another bang, seeing Costa aiming his gun and the other man who had jumped aboard the Finestkind fall back into the ocean.

“Well, well, well,” you whipped around when you heard your boss’s voice. “Look what we have here.” Your boss was smirking but nodded his head to the side. You looked to see what he was nodding at, you and Charlie both froze at the sight of the bodyguard over on the Finestkind, a gun pressed into Mabel’s side and the rest of the crew on their knees with their hands behind their heads. “Get over there,” your boss ordered, nodding at Charlie.

“When you get the chance,” you whispered, barely moving your mouth so only Charlie would hear. “Run.” Charlie scrunched his eyebrows when he looked at you, his eyes widened with realization when you lifted up the back of his shirt and slipped the diving knife in his waistband. You held Charlie’s gaze for a second; you needed him to run as soon as he got the chance.

Your eyes went back to Mabel, seeing her forced to her knees next to Tommy. Thankfully she didn’t look hurt, you weren’t sure if you could keep your composure if they tried to hurt her. You couldn’t help but be grateful for her, she came with them, she came to rescue you, you couldn’t believe she actually came. Mabel had been free, free of this life, free of you, she was free of all the trouble and yet she still came to help you.

“Now!” your boss yelled again, waving his gun impatiently.

Charlie glared at your boss as he hopped back over to the Finestkind. The bodyguard made sure to have his gun on Charlie the entire time. When Charlie got close enough the bodyguard slammed the butt of the gun into Charlie’s ribs, making him double over as he got to his knees. “Hands up!” The bodyguard ordered, nudging Charlie in the back of the head with the barrel of his rifle. Charlie subtly glanced back at the man, giving him a glare.

“So much trouble and for what,” your boss said, walking up to you, “you?” He shook his head in disappointment. “You made this so much messier than it needed to be.” He glanced over at the Finestkind where the others were being held hostage. “You’re the girl that was with Mr. Hero here,” he gestured at Charlie. “The one my man let go?” He called out, looking at Mabel but she only acknowledged him with a glare. “I’m assuming she’s who you wanted to say goodbye to?” He looked back at you, chuckling. “Love,” he said wistfully. “It’ll only get you killed. Bring the girl here.”

Your eyes widened, you glanced at Charlie, he gave you a subtle nod, but you still held your breath as you waited to see how this would play out. As soon as the bodyguard walked up behind Mabel, shifting his gun to only one hand so he could grab Mabel by the wrist with his other, Charlie made his move. Charlie spun around, you didn’t even see him slide the knife out of his waistband, you just saw him move his arm, slashing the man’s heel.

The bodyguard screamed, instantly letting go of Mabel as he reached for his injury. Charlie knocked Mabel out of the way as he grabbed hold of the gun still in the bodyguard’s hand and pushed him back. As Charlie was fighting the bodyguard you rushed toward your boss when you saw him raising his own gun at Charlie, slamming into him, sending both of you to the ground.

You quickly pushed off him and ran to the side of the boat when you caught sight of the duffel bag. You snagged the duffel bag and put as much distance between you and the boss. You glanced at the Finestkind, seeing Charlie struggling with the bodyguard until finally he tossed the guy over the side of the boat.

“One wrong move and say goodbye to your money,” you said, when you saw your boss had recovered. He was wobbling on his feet, but he had made to raise his gun at the others again.

You kept the automatic weapon close to your side to help give you more support while you used your other hand to hold the duffle bag out over the side of the boat. You saw your boss’s finger twitch, but he didn’t raise his gun at you or the others. His eyes kept going from the bag to you, you could see him debating in his mind if you’d really follow through and toss his money into the ocean.

“Easy, easy,” your boss said. He smiled, trying to appear calm, acting as if he was still in control, but there was an edge to his voice. You held all the power now; you just couldn’t take your eyes off your boss.

“They’re going to leave now,” you said, surprising yourself with how calm you sounded. “Charlie!” you hoped he got the message; you couldn’t spare a glance back at them.

“What are you doing?” you heard Mabel call. “No! No!” you flexed your hand, gripping the gun just a bit tighter; Charlie was doing as you asked.

You finally released a breath when you heard the engine of the Finestkind start up. You felt the boat sway as the Finestkind began to pull away. Your eyes flicked down, looking at the ground behind your boss, there was the gas cannister, still rolling around. You didn’t have a plan when you first grabbed the bag of money, you just wanted to give Mabel and the others a chance to escape but now you knew what you had to do. Your breathing wasn’t as shaky as you imagined it would be, but you guessed that’s what happened when you looked death in the eye for the third time. You blocked out Mabel screaming your name and yelling at the others to turn the boat around.

You twisted your body, using your one hand on the gun to pull the trigger, shooting up the panel that controlled the crane that was holding the drugs. “No!” your boss screamed, running towards the panel as it sparked and whined before dropping the drugs back into the ocean, nearly tipping the boat in the process.

Your boss whipped around, his eyes looking like a rabid animal as he ran at you. You used the duffel bag to hit him in the chest, knocking him back to the floor. With him on the ground you tossed the duffel bag into the ocean. You stepped up onto one of the crates, placing one foot up onto the edge of the boat. You spared your boss one last glance, watching as he held a hand to his chest as he tried to catch his breath and find his balance again. You took a deep breath then raised your gun one last time and fired.

You jumped off the boat the second your finger pulled the trigger. You didn’t need to see the bullet hit the gas cannister. You hit the water and the force of the explosion pushed you deeper. You ignored the sting of saltwater, your eyes wide opened as you watched the sky light up, bits and pieces of the boat sinking down to the bottom of the ocean. You waited a few moments, hoping all the debris was done falling before swimming to the surface.

You took a deep breath when you finally broke through the waves. There was nothing left of the boat and certainly nothing left of your boss. You began to swim through the wreckage, avoiding burning pieces of wood floating in the water. Your arm brushed against something and when you looked to see what it was you couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the duffle bag, maybe you still had a bit of luck left after all. You flung one arm over the duffle bag, using it to help keep yourself afloat.

“Y/N!” you heard Mabel shout. You whipped your head around, trying to figure out where her voice was coming from. “Y/N!” you broke out into a smile when you saw the Finestkind coming through the smoke, you never thought you’d be so happy to see that damn boat.

“Holy shit you’re alive,” Charlie said when the boat got close enough. You breathed out a laugh, which seemed to be becoming Charlie’s saying when it came to you.

You tossed the duffel bag onto the stern before taking Charlie’s hand, allowing him to pull your aboard. You collapsed onto the deck, breathing heavy as you looked up at the clear blue sky. “Thanks,” you breathed out.

Mabel collapsed to her knees next to you, resting her hand on your cheek as she turned your face to look at her. “Hey,” you said still breathless. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You’re an idiot,” she said, clearly holding back a sob. You nodded, unable to argue with her, you did do a lot of dumb things. “I hate you.”

“I know.”

She lifted your head off the deck, pulling you into a kiss. You leaned up, instantly kissing her back. Mabel’s tears streamed down her face, mixing with the saltwater you were soaked in, despite the salty taste it was the best kiss you ever had. Mabel pulled away, keeping her forehead resting against yours. “You paid my debt,” she whispered.

Now you were breathing heavily for another reason, your eyes never left her lips. “I owed you,” you admitted. Paying her debt that she only had because she was trying to save your life was the least you could do.

“I really hate you,” she sniffled. You couldn’t help but chuckle before she pulled you in for another kiss. She could hate you all she wanted if it meant spending the rest of your life like this.

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folkvangr-seidr · 12 days

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Ask game: 1 - who is/are your comfort character(s)?

yelena belova for sure

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folkvangr-seidr · 13 days

Text

i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

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folkvangr-seidr · 14 days

Text

here’s weirder asks

who is/are your comfort character(s)?

lighter or matches?

do you leave the window open at night?

which cryptyd being do you believe in?

what color are your eyes?

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies?

how many water bottles are in your room right now?

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

would you slaughter the rich?

favorite extracurricular activity?

what kind of day is it?

when was the last time you ate?

do you love the smell of earth after it rains?

are you a parent? (all answers qualify)

can you drive?

are you farsighted or nearsighted?

what hair products do you use?

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

do you say soda or pop?

something you’ve kept since childhood?

what type of person are you?

how do you feel about chilly weather?

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing?

perfume/body spray or lotion?

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times?

about how many hours of sleep did you get?

do you wear a mask?

how do you like your shower water?

is there dishes in your room?

what type of music keeps you grounded?

do you have a favorite towel?

the last adventure you’ve been on?

is there a song you know every word to by heart?

what’s your timezone?

how many times have you changed your url?

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years?

a soap bar that smells good?

do you use lip balm?

did you have any snacks today?

how do you take your coffee?

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site?

what’s your take on spicy foods?

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it?

can you remember what happened yesterday?

favorite holiday film?

what was the last message you sent?

when did you first try an alcohol beverage?

can you skip rocks?

can i tag you in random stuff?

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folkvangr-seidr · 14 days

Text

Doctor’s treatment

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍

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folkvangr-seidr · 14 days

Text

friends? - cairo sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: A new class leads to some heated feelings

Warnings: Finally wrote an enemies to lovers, they’re academic rivals ur honor, my writing, cairo being a meanie, quite an excessive use of italics

Word Count: 1k+

A/n: wanted to practice some, tell me what u think? do you want a part two?

“Cairo Sweet.” You read aloud, scrolling down your class list for the next year. Winnie —your best friend since childhood—laughs quietly at the sound.

“Funny name.” She mumbles when you quirk an eyebrow at her.

There was no reason to think ‘Sweet’ was a weird surname; however, Winnie, at the moment, was high out of her mind, so you let it go.

“Jacob Weinstein, Sophie Bell, Anthony Smith—god I don’t know any of these people!” You whisper, the slightest bit of anxiety creeping in.

Your first day is tomorrow, and you’ve sworn to yourself not to check who is in your specific class, wanting to try to spontaneously make new friends.

The keyword was try, because god you were bad at small talk.

Even in her mellowed state, Winnie could tell the nerves were settling in. She reaches out and draws you towards her, sitting so you’re facing each other, only a finger away from completely pressing into one another.

She swirls the lollipop in her mouth around, angling your head to look her in the eyes.

“It’s gonna be fine. Don’t sweat it, please? It makes me sad to see your pretty face in distress.” She spoke evenly, making you feel like you had steady ground to walk on, helping you come back to earth. You let out a deep breath, one you didn’t know you were holding.

“You’ve got to stop flirting with anyone and anything that moves.” You tell her, lightheartedly. She had helped taken the edge off, for now.

Bless her heart, Winnie’s reassurance lasted about until she left for her own home, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the big lonely house you had to call home.

It takes a book, or maybe two, for your eyelids to flutter shut, comforted by the smell of old paper and the feeling of coarse parchment.

Walking to school is no different. You listen half-heartedly to whatever Winnie decides to babble about this specific morning, your mind elsewhere.

As you near the doors of your next class, Winnie gives you a quick wink.

“Good luck soldier.” She says, smiling an almost teasing smile.

The minute you push open the doors you’re taken by surprise. It was fairly early, and though you expected no one would be there yet, there was a girl sitting smack dab in the middle of the class. Her head rested on her hands, staring blankly at the chalkboard in front of her.

You walk up silently to the desk behind her, far enough so you weren’t in the first few rows, but close enough that you wouldn’t be sitting with all the slackers in the back.

You slip out a book, kick your feet up to rest on the wooden table, and relaxed slightly. She seemed to pay no mind to you, and didn’t seem to want to pay any mind to you.

After a few pages in, you realize you’ve been reading the same sentence over and over again, not quite comprehending the letters that now looked like a random jumble.

There was a sinking feeling starting in your stomach, as if something were twisting and screaming for your attention.

Table or chair, wind or sun—you couldn’t quite figure out what it was that was bothering you.

Your eyes wandered from the page to your surroundings, trying to pinpoint what it was.

You must’ve been making quite some noise, because the girl in front of you turns around, an obvious distaste on her face. The moment you lock eyes you feel it.

Ah, I know what it is now.

It seems almost silly to say, but you could swear, she was the root of your problems.

There was an almost inimical aura about her, the way she acts—the flick of her eyes, the slight clench in her jaw, her rigid robotic posture—was enough for you to cower.

Of course, you had never even talked to the girl, but you could tell all at once, you weren’t going to be good friends.

“Could you stop moving so much? It’s distracting me.” She tells you, in a manner too rude to be a real request.

Her eyes narrow when you don’t answer. You had elected instead to stare at her freckles, ones that littered her face. Not counting your current feelings for her, you couldn’t deny it, she was beautiful.

However, the way she was acting now was more than enough for you to be sure she was not someone friend-worthy, and you ignored her remark.

In a quiet retaliation, you wait till she titled her head back that you scratch the rug beneath you with the heels of your feet.

It creates a faint screeching sound. When the mysterious girl turns back once again, this time with fury in her eyes, you avert your eyes and look around the room, whistling.

You could tell you were pushing her buttons, but oh boy if it wasn’t just the most fun. If it weren’t for the sound of the door opening you’re positive she would’ve gotten up and confronted you.

In walked a short, scruffy, middle-aged white man whom you concluded must have been the teacher.

“I didn’t expect anyone to be in yet. Students aren’t usually thrilled to learn my class.” He said, sounding pleased with himself to have two new focused students.

“I’m quite excited to see how it’s going to go, I’ve never learned with a favorite author of mine.” The girl spoke, this time with no venom in her voice.

The professor let out a strangled sort of squeak, obviously caught off guard.

Great. She’s also a suck-up.

“Well, i’ll be damned. I’ve never met someone that’s read my book— other than my wife. Although I’m not sure if she even read the whole thing.” He said, failing to hide the excitement and disbelief he was surely feeling.

“I thought it was amazing commentary on modern marriages and love through difficult times.” She said, the light from outside lighting her hair up a lighter shade of brown.

Blah, blah, blah. Someone save me.

As if hearing your prayers, another student entered the room, effectively cutting off that godforsaken conversation. More pupils start filling up the class, and even though you can tell the professor wants to keep talking to the brunette, he steps up to the small platform.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr. Miller, and I’ll be teaching you english literature.” He announces, voice full. You can tell he’d practiced this beforehand.

Your plan to make friends, to both your joy and dismay, get crushed almost immediately. There are no group activities or opportunities to even speak to the other people in the class, all attention directed to the front while Mr. Miller scrabbles on the chalkboard.

The brunette’s name, you learn, is Cairo. She manages to be the first person to raise her hand, to challenge Mr.Miller, to question almost every single thing on the board.

And even though that nagging feeling you felt when you first saw her is gone, you let yourself dissociate and simply stare at the girl. If the class was going to be boring, it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye candy, would it?

“Now, who can tell me exactly why Orwell chose to use these sets of words? What do they give to the overall tone of the book, umm-y/n?” Mr.Miller called, looking from his list of students.

You stir in your chair uncomfortably; you have not been listening to him. The air had turned very cold; your heart picking up its pace.

“I don’t know.” You mumble after a while of every face turned your way, impatience in their gaze. You shrink into your seat.

You hear a little scoff from ahead of you, coming from none other than Cairo Sweet.

You bite back an insult, and try to ignore the disappointed murmur that comes out of Mr.Miller.

Before you know it the hour is gone, and the sound of books stacking against one another breaks you out your daze.

Winnie’s waiting for you outside the door, quite creepily, you tell her as you walk together to your next class; a subject that you both have.

“So, how was it?” She nudges you lightly, smiling expectedly.

You flash her a tight lipped smile, then let it drop when you know she’d be able to see right through you.

You grip her arm and lean in closer, checking around you.

“There was this one girl, she was horrible!” You whisper, a new spark of energy flowing through you at the prospect of telling Winnie about it.

“She was the BIGGEST teachers pet, and she said something so rude to me before class, so like we were sitting and…” You continue to recount the story, trying your hardest to recreate Cairo’s glare.

When you get done, you turn to Winnie, waiting for her to join in on your gossiping.

“So am I going to witness an enemies to lovers type of thing right in front of me?” She sighs, exasperated.

You’re so shocked you don’t follow her into the class, stood rooted to the spot at the door.

“Wait, what?”

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folkvangr-seidr · 15 days

Note

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog!

hmmm tough one!

1. i speak 5 languages fluently

2. i'm disabled

3. lately i never stay for longer than a year before moving to another city

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folkvangr-seidr · 15 days

Text

𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗲 (𝗶𝗶) | 𝖼𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗈 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 & 𝖿𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

cairo's actions continue to frustrate you, but when unspoken words are finally said out loud, you understand her.

tags. mdni! jumpscare: mr. miller, sexual tension, a bit of angst, jealous cairo, small reader x winnie situation, scisorring, face riding (cairo receiving), language, smut in general, brief softness. | word count. 4619

part 1 . part 2 | masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked a few times, pursing your lips together.

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

“Anytime.”

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

“God, no.” He laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like?”

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

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

“I think he wants to take her upstairs.”

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

“Are you sure about that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe you should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

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

"Yes!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you taste divine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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folkvangr-seidr · 18 days

Text

Luck Runs Out |Part 10|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 2.4k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Mabel paced around her apartment. You had just left not too long ago, left to go meet a bunch of drug dealers who would put a bullet in the back of your head the second they got what they wanted. She hated you; you were a selfless self-sacrificing asshole. She didn’t know what to do with herself, she would never know for sure if you were alive or dead, she’d never know if you suffered. You almost kissed her, she wanted nothing more than to close the gap, but you pulled away, going that extra distance would have meant something, she didn’t think she could handle it meaning something if you were just going to go off and die.

She kept glancing at the clock, every minute felt like hours. You might not have even been on the boat yet, you had to walk, so there was a chance you were just getting to the dock. Mabel kept glancing at her keys, it would be so easy for her to hop in her car, drive down there and pull you into the safety of her vehicle. Doing that would just mean, she, you, Charlie, and anyone else connected to any of you would be in danger.

Unable to take the unbearable silence Mabel grabbed her keys and jumped in her car. She turned the key and just sat there, the sun had just begun to rise, the rest of the world still wasn’t awake yet. She smacked her steering wheel until the palm of her hand began to sting. She really hated you for what you were making her do. She let out a scream that turned into more of a groan and let her head flop onto the steering wheel. Mabel lifted her head, putting on the familiar emotionless expression she used to always use before flipping on her turn signal and pulling out of her parking space.

Mabel drove, her surroundings a blur as she passed them. She didn’t even bother turning on the radio, her thoughts were solely filled with you. God, she really hated you, she hadn’t known you for very long and yet you had effortlessly worked your way into her heart. Part of her really wished she had met you before, then maybe the two of you could have been something, maybe the two of you could have lived out each of your dreams. Part of her felt that way, the other part of her was glad she met you when she did. If she had met you before, she probably wouldn’t have given you a chance. She would have written you off like every other dealer she’d known, like she almost did.

She glanced out the window at the condo complex and she parked her beat up red car on the street. She sighed, looking up at the tall building, even if she got her dream job, she still wouldn’t have even been able to dream about living some place so nice. The doorman glanced at her, wrinkling his nose as she yanked open the door to the lobby but didn’t otherwise so much as attempt to stop her. Mabel glanced around the fancy lobby as she waited for the elevator, seeing the leather couch and chairs by the window that didn’t look like they had ever been sat in.

Even the elevator was fancy, soft music playing as it lightly hummed, as it took her to the floor she wanted. A robotic female voice lightly crackled through the speaker, informing her when she arrived at the floor, then told her to have a nice day. When she stepped out, she looked from side to side, seeing a handful of doors stretched out on each side. As Mabel made her way to the correct door, she noted how the space from one door to the next was bigger than her entire apartment.

Mabel let out a sigh, shaking her hands as she put her game face on. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, her knock sounding louder than ever as it echoed through the quiet hallway. Mabel looked down the hall as she waited for an answer, the amount of people living in the building, and she doubted any of them knew each other. She wasn’t friends with her neighbors, but they all knew each other, these people probably couldn’t pick their doorman out of a line up let alone tell someone his name.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes when she finally heard the click of the lock being slid out of place. She knew the condo had to be big but that didn’t mean it had to take three minutes to answer the door. Mabel had a snarky remark at the ready, but the words quickly died in her mouth when the door opened.

“What are you doing here?” The doctor asked, glaring at Mabel. He stood in his doorway, using his body and the door to block her from seeing into his place.

Mabel stared up at the doctor, her mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. “What the hell happened to you?” Finally left her mouth.

The doctor’s face looked like it had been beaten in. There were dark bruises around his eyes and cheeks, his nose was smashed, he had a split lip and more bruising. He somehow looked even worse than you. Mabel might not have spent much time with the doctor, but she had never seen so much as a scratch on him. People begged to work with him, they bent over backwards to please him, he wasn’t some lackey on a random gang's payroll.

“Come to get an up-close look at what your little friend did?” he sneered.

Mabel furrowed her brow, she didn’t have any friends, she definitely didn’t have any that knew the doctor, besides Charlie, but she knew there was no way he had done that. “Y/N?” Mabel’s eyes widened.

“Nearly broke my fucking hand,” he said through gritted teeth.

He held out the hand he had originally hidden on the side of the door. Mabel’s mouth dropped open. The doctor was a surgeon, his hands were basically everything. His right hand wasn’t in a cast or even wrapped up, but Mabel could still see the impression of a boot. There was bruising all across the back of his hand, if whoever stepped on it had pressed down just a bit harder then surely, they would have smashed his hand completely.

He pushed off the doorway, leaving the door open as he walked back into his apartment. “Or did you come to finish the job?” he called out.

Mabel slid her foot forward, almost crossing the threshold into his apartment. In the hallway she was safe but if she crossed into the apartment anything could happen. Before she could think through her decision and why it was a bad idea, she stepped into the apartment.

“What happened?” she asked again. She looked the doctor up and down, he was favoring his left leg as he made his way to the kitchen island to poor himself a drink, despite it not even being eight in the morning yet.

The doctor spun around, drink still in his hand, tilting his head as he watched Mabel. “You don’t know?” he asked, letting out a humorless chuckle.

Mabel could only shake her head. You visited the doctor, but you had barely even met him, she didn’t know how you could possibly know where he lived or worked. You beat the shit out of him, Mabel hadn’t even seen people who were late on payments suffer such a beating. Maybe you knew the doctor from before, because clearly this was personal for you. Mabel didn’t think you were much of a fighter, not in that way, but she hadn’t known you very long, so many the truth was she didn’t know you at all, maybe this was exactly who you were.

“Your friend,” the doctor spit, Mabel could hear the disgust in his voice. “Paid your debt.” He chuckled loudly, sloshing his drink as he waved his arms around.

“What?” Mabel whispered, her eyes widening at the implication of those words.

“Your debt,” he said bitterly. “Paid off!” he threw his hands in the air, sloshing more of his drink, not that he seemed to notice. “Warned me to stay away from you,” he pointed at her. “Completely paid everything,” he pointed across the room. Mabel followed his finger to a duffel bag next to his couch. “Said if I ever contacted you again, they’d kill me.” He threw his head back, downing the rest of his glass.

Mabel ignored him as she walked to the duffel back. She held her breath as she slowly unzipped it. She pushed the bag apart, her eyes landing on stacks upon stacks of money. She brought a hand to her mouth, the only way you could get access to that much money that quickly would be if you used your savings, the money you had been saving to get a sailboat so you could follow your dream.

“When?” Mabel asked, turning back to the doctor.

“Yesterday,” he said, shrugging. “Had to use my vacation time. Now, get out,” he pointed towards the door.

Mabel didn’t need to be told twice; she was out the door before the doctor could pull himself away from the kitchen island. On her way down to her car she kept trying to figure out how you knew about the doctor. Mabel had never told you about her debt to him let alone mentioned how much she owed him. She didn’t tell you because though you were the one he was helping it wasn’t your problem, she was the one who called him.

Based on the timeline you had visited him before going to see your boss. You grabbed your life savings and paid Mabel’s debt before you went to try and save the life of her ex and his friends. You really were selfless, god she really hated you. When she got in her car, she turned her key and sped down the road, already knowing where she was going. If you thought you could just go off and secretly pay her debt and then go get yourself killed, you were wrong.

Mabel sped down the street, ignoring most traffic laws, she didn’t have time to stop at things like red lights and stop signs. She slammed on her breaks when she got in front of her destination. She got out of her car, slamming the door before she started her march up the walkway, to the house she had become very familiar with in the last year.

“What are you doing here?” Charlie asked, coming out the front door before Mabel even got to the first step. “Did something happen? Are you okay?” He rushed down the steps, reaching his arms out as if he were going to touch her but stopped before he could.

“We’re going to rescue Y/N,” Mabel said.

“What?” Charlie took a step back, his eyes widening.

“Call Tommy,” Mabel gestured impatiently. “We don’t have a lot of time, they’re probably already on the water.”

“Are you insane?” Charlie held out his arms, his eyes darting all around Mabel’s face.

“They paid my debt.” Charlie scrunched his eyebrows before his shoulders relaxed, his mouth dropping open at the reveal. “I can’t just let them die.”

“What do you expect to do?” Charlie asked softly. Mabel clenched her jaw, it took everything in her to not snap at Charlie, she knew he was just looking out for her. “These guys are bad news, you said that yourself. What’s the plan?”

“I don’t know!” Mabel ran her hands across her face and through her hair. “But I can’t just do nothing! Please,” she begged, looking up into Charlie’s eyes.

Charlie held her gaze, his eyes searching for something before they widened slightly as if realizing something. Charlie nodded but there was a small frown on his face. “Okay,” he sighed. “Okay.”

Charlie called Tommy from the car. Mabel didn’t waste time as she sped her way down to the docks. She caught Charlie out of the side of her eye as he argued back and forth with Tommy until he tossed his phone onto the dashboard when the conversation was over. Charlie had his elbow resting on the door and his head propped up in his hand. He looked focused, his eyes never leaving the road.

“Tommy letting us take the boat?” Mabel asked, she quickly flicked a glance at Charlie, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Yeah,” Charlie sighed. “He’s already there, we’ll be ready to go as soon as we arrive.”

Mabel nodded, opting not to say anything else. Charlie called Tommy and he was willing to come with her and help try and save you. Charlie’s mood was close to how it was after they broke up. Mabel couldn’t be sure what Charlie saw when he looked into her eyes but whatever it was it seemed that he finally accepted that they were truly over and that she was ready to start moving on.

Mabel whipped into a parking spot, slamming on the breaks as soon as she could. She didn’t even look to see if she was between the lines before she jumped out of the car and ran down the ramp to the docks. She heard Charlie right behind her as they rushed to the boat, seeing Tommy on the deck, Nunes, and Costa beside him. Costa grabbed her hand, helping her onto the boat.

“This is stupid,” Tommy said, locking eyes with Charlie.

Charlie shrugged. “We can’t just do nothing.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hat before flicking a glance at Mabel then back at his brother. “You better have a plan,” he shook his head.

“Figured we’d gameplan on the way.”

Tommy grumbled something incoherent before making his way to the helm. Charlie tapped Mabel’s arm, nodding at her to follow along. Mabel joined Charlie, Costa, and Nunes around a table behind Tommy and began planning out exactly how they thought they could save you while also taking on a bunch of drug dealers.

Tommy put in the location they found originally and used weather patterns to determine where and how far you drifted from, giving them a solid area to start heading towards. With Tommy at the wheel, they began making their way to your location, Mabel was just hoping she had moved fast enough and that you wouldn’t already be on the ocean floor by the time they got to you.

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