Nika Mühl X Reader
Fucked Well
You wake up feeling like absolute garbage, your head pounding, throat raw and scratchy, every joint screaming in protest. The flu has you in a chokehold this time, turning you from your usual lively self into a shivering, pathetic bundle under the blankets. But Nika hasn’t left your side once. She ditched her meetings without a second thought, told everyone she was taking a personal day and planted herself right here with you. Soup simmering on the stove, fresh tissues stacked on the nightstand, cool washcloths rotated every twenty minutes.
Now it’s evening and the fever’s got you drenched in sweat again, pajamas clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Nika notices the second she walks back into the bedroom with a new glass of electrolytes. She’s in those soft gray sweats that cling to her powerful thighs and a loose black t-shirt that shows off the definition in her arms and shoulders…basketball arms that can bench you without breaking a sweat. Her dark eyes flick over you, assessing, concerned.
“You’re burning up again, ljubavi,” she says softly, setting the glass down. Her Croatian accent wraps around the words like a warm blanket. “Shower time. It’ll break the fever, make you feel human. Come on, I’ve got you.”
You manage a weak nod, too wiped to fight her. She slides an arm around your waist, steady and strong, helping you stand. Your legs wobble but she just pulls you closer, letting you lean your full weight into her side as you shuffle to the bathroom. The moment she cranks the hot water, steam begins seeping out already loosening the congestion in your chest. It smells faintly of her eucalyptus body wash…comforting, familiar.
Nika helps you out of the damp clothes with gentle efficiency, no teasing, no lingering touches…just pure care. She strips quickly after, confident and unselfconscious, then steps in behind you. The spray hits your skin like mercy, hot enough to make you sigh in relief. You sway a little, dizzy, so she wraps one arm around your middle to keep you upright, the other reaching for the shampoo.
Her fingers work through your hair in slow, firm circles, massaging your scalp until your eyes flutter closed. You lean back against her chest, feeling the steady thump of her heartbeat, the rise and fall of her breathing. She rinses, then lathers soap over your shoulders, down your arms, across your back…careful, attentive, completely focused on making you comfortable.
The heat, the steam, her body pressed to yours…it all starts waking something up despite how awful you feel. A low, needy ache pools between your legs. You turn your head just enough to catch her eye over your shoulder.
“You know what would actually help me feel better?” you rasp, voice still hoarse but unmistakably suggestive.
Nika’s hands pause on your hips. One dark brow lifts. “More medicine? A nap?” She’s smirking, but there’s caution in her gaze…she knows exactly where your mind’s going.
You slide a hand back, fingers tracing the hard line of her thigh. “Shower sex.”
She exhales a soft laugh that echoes off the tiles, shaking her head. “No, baby. You’re sick. I’m not risking making this worse. I just want you better.” Her tone is firm, protective, the same voice she uses on the court when she’s locking in. She turns you gently to face her, rinsing the last of the soap from your skin with slow, deliberate sweeps of her hands.
You pout, but the fever’s making you bold, reckless. You press closer, slick bodies sliding together under the water. “Oh, this will definitely make me feel better,” you murmur, letting your fingers drift higher, brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. “Like, instant cure. Swear.”
Nika’s jaw flexes. She searches your face for a long second…checking for real discomfort, for any sign you’re pushing too hard. Then her eyes darken, pupils blown wide in the steamy light. “You’re impossible,” she mutters, but the fight’s already leaving her voice. Her hands slide to your waist, thumbs brushing the sensitive skin just under your ribs. “If this is what my girl needs…”
She kisses you then…slow at first, lips soft and careful under the falling water. But you deepen it fast, hungry, tongue sweeping against hers. You taste mint and the faint salt of her skin. Your hands roam up her sides, thumbs grazing the under of her breasts, feeling her nipples pebble instantly.
Nika groans low in her throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth. She backs you up until your shoulders hit the cool tile, the temperature shock making you gasp. Her thigh slides between yours without warning…strong, thick, and she presses it firmly against your center.
“Ride it,” she orders quietly, voice rough with want. “If we’re doing this, you’re gonna take what you need. Nice and slow so I can watch you fall apart.”
You whimper, already grinding down instinctively. The pressure is immediate, delicious…her thigh muscle flexing under you as you rock your hips. The water makes everything slippery, hot, obscene. You brace one hand on her shoulder, the other on the wall, and start moving in earnest.
Nika’s eyes never leave your face. She watches every flutter of your lashes, every hitch in your breath. One hand stays braced on the tile beside your head… the other grips your hip, guiding your rhythm without rushing you. “That’s it, baby,” she murmurs, accent thicker now. “Use me. Let me feel how wet you are even when you’re sick.”
The praise hits you like a spark. You grind harder, clit dragging along the firm ridge of her thigh with every roll of your hips. The steam swirls thicker, the sound of water and your own ragged breathing filling the shower. Your thighs start to tremble, muscles burning in the best way.
“Nik…” you gasp, head tipping back against the tile.
She leans in, lips brushing your ear. “Come on my thigh, ljubavi. Show me how much better this makes you feel.”
That’s all it takes. The coil snaps tight and then shatters. You cry out, hips stuttering as the orgasm crashes through you…sharp, bright, overwhelming. Your nails dig into her shoulder, walls fluttering around nothing as pleasure pulses hot and liquid between your legs. Nika holds you steady, thigh pressed firm so you can ride every last wave, murmuring soft Croatian praises you only half hear through the haze.
When you finally slump forward, panting, she catches you easily, arms wrapping around your waist. She kisses your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth…soft now, reverent.
“Better?” she asks, smirking against your skin.
You laugh weakly, still trembling. “Getting there.”
She chuckles, low and dark. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”
She spins you slowly, pressing your chest to the wall. Her hands slide down your sides, possessive, fingertips trailing fire over your wet skin. She nudges your legs apart with her knee, then slips one hand between your thighs from behind. Two fingers tease your entrance first…slow circles around your swollen clit, gathering the slickness that’s already there…before sliding inside you with one smooth, deep push.
You moan loud, the stretch perfect even after coming once. Nika sets a rhythm immediately…hard, controlled. Each curl of her fingers drives them deeper, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur. Water pounds down on your back, her front flush to you, one hand braced beside yours on the tile, the other working you relentlessly.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” she growls against your neck, teeth grazing your skin. “Even when you’re sick, you take my fingers like you were made for them. My perfect girl.”
The praise, the angle, the way she’s railing you with just her hand…it builds fast. She adds a third finger, stretching you fuller, her palm grinding against your clit with every thrust. Your second orgasm coils low and tight, then explodes without warning. You come hard, walls clamping down around her fingers, a broken moan of her name echoing off the walls. Nika fucks you through it, pace faltering only when your spasms start to slow, curling her fingers one last time to draw out every aftershock before gently easing them out.
She turns off the shower first, the sudden quiet almost startling after all the water noise. Then she turns you around carefully, cradling your face in both hands to kiss you slow and deep…lazy, lingering, all tongue and soft affection now. When she pulls back, her eyes are soft, searching yours.
“You okay, baby?” she whispers, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “Not too much?”
You shake your head, smiling through the haze. “Perfect. You’re perfect.”
Nika reaches for the big fluffy towel she left on the rack earlier and wraps it around your shoulders first, tucking it snug so you’re cocooned in warmth. She dries herself quickly, then focuses on you…gentle pats over your arms, your back, your legs, making sure every drop is gone so you don’t get chilled. She kneels to dry between your thighs with extra care, pressing soft kisses to the inside of your knee when she’s done.
“Stay right here,” she murmurs, stepping out to grab something from the bedroom. She comes back with one of her sweaters and helps you into it, sleeves swallowing your hands. Then she scoops you up like you weigh nothing, carrying you back to the bedroom despite your weak protest that you can walk.
She settles you against the pillows she’d already arranged earlier, pulls the thick comforter over your legs, and tucks it around you until only your head peeks out. Nika climbs in beside you, pulling you into her chest so your back is flush against her front, her arm draped protectively over your waist. She nuzzles into your damp hair, pressing kisses along your shoulder.
“Rest now, ljubavi,” she whispers, voice low and soothing. “I’ve got you. Fever’s gonna break soon, and you’re gonna wake up feeling brand new. But until then, you’re not lifting a finger.”
You hum contentedly, already sinking into the warmth of her body and the steady rhythm of her breathing. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on your stomach through the sweater, grounding you, calming.
“Love you,” you mumble, eyelids heavy.
“Love you more,” she replies, kissing the back of your neck. “Sleep, baby. I’m right here.”
And with her holding you like that…safe, warm, completely taken care of, you finally let yourself drift, the ache in your body replaced by nothing but soft, hazy bliss.
