Bini Imagines or AU's

Mikhcey

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It was a regular Wednesday night. The evening air was cool, and the faint glow of city lights seeped through the large windows of Mikha's condo. The place wasn't overly luxurious, but it was comfortable—just big enough for Mikha to unwind after a long day of training. She was known as one of the fiercest volleyball players in school, a force to be reckoned with. Tall, tough, and with an air of nonchalance, Mikha ruled the court. Her teammates and even her opponents admired her skill and resilience, but only a few knew the truth about her softer side—especially when she was around Stacey.

Stacey Aubrey Sevilleja was the school's beloved model, chic and stylish, always radiating a soft elegance that drew everyone's eyes. But despite her glamorous exterior, Stacey was head over heels in love with Mikha, her fierce, red-haired volleyball girlfriend. The only person who ever saw Mikha's true self, the baby she became whenever the world wasn't watching, was Stacey.

Mikha arrived home that evening, her body aching from the grueling practice. As soon as she stepped into the condo, she could hear the soft sounds of Stacey's favorite show playing in the living room. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but exhaustion weighed her down. She let out a tired sigh, dropped her bag carelessly by the couch, and headed straight for the comforting warmth she knew was waiting for her.

Stacey was lounging on the couch, her long legs stretched out, her eyes focused on the screen. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, even in her casual home clothes. Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail, and her face was free of makeup, showing the natural glow she rarely revealed outside.

Without a word, Mikha collapsed onto the couch, resting her head directly on Stacey's chest. She felt the familiar softness of Stacey's body beneath her and sighed contentedly. She wrapped her arms around Stacey's waist, burying her face into her girlfriend's body as if trying to melt away her weariness.

Stacey smiled softly, turning her attention away from the show. She looked down at Mikha's damp red hair, still wet from the post-practice shower, and gently ran her fingers through it. Mikha, the tough and seemingly unbreakable player, was a different person in moments like these. She whined softly, pressing closer, seeking comfort in the warmth of Stacey's embrace.

"Tired, baby?" Stacey whispered, her voice soothing as she continued to play with Mikha's hair.

Mikha nodded wordlessly, her cheek pressed against Stacey's chest, her body slowly relaxing under her girlfriend's tender touch.

"Poor thing," Stacey murmured affectionately, rubbing slow circles on Mikha's back. Her hands were delicate but firm, knowing exactly how to coax the tension from Mikha's muscles. She loved moments like these, when she could take care of Mikha, offering her the gentle affection she craved.

Mikha's grip on Stacey tightened as if holding on for dear life. She had faced fierce opponents and grueling matches, but nothing compared to the comfort she found in Stacey's arms. Here, she didn't have to be the tough, intimidating volleyball star. She could be vulnerable, soft—even needy—and Stacey would love her all the same.

As Stacey continued to rub her back, Mikha shifted slightly, resting her chin on Stacey's chest and looking up at her with tired eyes. "I don't think I can move anymore," she mumbled, her voice a little muffled.

Stacey chuckled softly. "Well, lucky for you, I'm not going anywhere," she teased, leaning down to plant a kiss on Mikha's forehead. "You're stuck with me, babe."

A small smile tugged at Mikha's lips, and she let out a soft laugh. "Good," she whispered. "You're all I need."

There was a brief pause, the soft hum of the TV filling the air. Stacey continued to run her fingers through Mikha's hair, brushing away the strands that clung to her damp skin. "You work too hard," Stacey said after a while, her tone gentle but concerned.