#low noise amplifier

[myerseng]

The Importance of Low Noise Amplifiers: Enhancing Performance in Modern Electronics

In today's advanced technological world, the performance of communication systems, radar, medical imaging devices, and various other electronics heavily depends on signal clarity. A critical component in achieving this clarity is the low noise amplifier (LNA). LNAs are integral in many high-frequency systems, ensuring that weak signals are amplified without introducing significant noise or distortion. This blog explores the importance of LNAs, how they work, and their widespread applications.

What is a Low Noise Amplifier?

A low noise amplifier is an electronic amplifier designed to amplify very weak signals while minimizing the amount of noise added during the amplification process. Noise refers to any unwanted signal that may interfere with the desired communication. By design, LNAs have a low noise figure, meaning they introduce minimal additional noise compared to other types of amplifiers. They are typically used at the front end of receivers in wireless communications, radar, satellite systems, and more wifi antenna booster.

The primary purpose of an LNA is to boost the signal-to-noise ratio (SNR), ensuring that the signal remains clear and strong enough to be processed effectively by subsequent stages of a system.

How Does a Low Noise Amplifier Work?

LNAs are often placed close to the antenna in a system to amplify weak signals immediately after they are received. The earlier the amplification, the less noise is added as the signal travels through different stages of the circuit. This proximity helps maintain the integrity of the original signal.

The core of an LNA’s operation lies in its ability to maximize gain (the ratio of output to input signal) while minimizing the noise figure. LNAs typically use high electron mobility transistors (HEMTs), field-effect transistors (FETs), or bipolar junction transistors (BJTs), depending on the application. The performance of an LNA is determined by its gain, noise figure, linearity, and bandwidth.

Applications of Low Noise Amplifiers

1. Wireless Communication Systems: One of the most common applications of LNAs is in wireless communication devices such as smartphones, GPS receivers, and Wi-Fi systems. In these systems, the LNA is essential for amplifying weak radio frequency (RF) signals received by the antenna, ensuring clear communication even over long distances.

2. Satellite Communication: LNAs are crucial in satellite communication systems, where signals from satellites are often extremely weak by the time they reach Earth. Without an LNA, it would be challenging to amplify these signals effectively without adding too much noise, leading to poor data transmission.

3. Radar Systems: In radar applications, LNAs are used to amplify weak signals reflected off distant objects. This enables the detection of objects that are far away or have low radar cross-sections, such as small aircraft or drones.

4. Medical Imaging Devices: In devices like MRI and ultrasound machines, LNAs play a critical role in improving signal sensitivity and resolution. They ensure that the diagnostic images are clear, which helps medical professionals make accurate assessments.

Importance of Low Noise Amplifiers in 5G and Beyond

With the rapid rollout of 5G networks and the increasing demand for high-speed, low-latency communication, LNAs have become more critical than ever. 5G operates at higher frequencies than previous generations, meaning signal attenuation and interference are more likely. LNAs help mitigate these challenges by boosting weak signals early in the process, allowing for faster data transmission and improved overall performance.

Conclusion

In summary, the low noise amplifier is an essential component in modern electronics, particularly in communication, satellite, radar, and medical systems. By providing high gain and maintaining a low noise figure, LNAs ensure that weak signals can be effectively amplified without compromising quality. As technology continues to evolve, especially with the rise of 5G and advanced medical devices, the role of LNAs will only become more significant in ensuring optimal system performance.

[chinasopofiber]

New Style 2 Port General Optical Amplifier #amplifier #edfa #amplifiers ...

[alx2psson]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--analog--amplifiers--low-noise-amplifier/ba4560f-e2-rohm-3414471

Low noise amplifier, Ultra low noise op amp, Microwave low noise amplifiers,

Dual Channel 30 V 6 mV Surface Mount Low Noise Amplifier - SOP-8

[nck2liftn]

https://www.futureelectronics.com/p/semiconductors--analog--amplifiers--low-noise-amplifier/ba4560f-e2-rohm-9106267

Operational amplifier, high-gain electronic voltage amplifier, low noise op amps

Dual Channel 30 V 6 mV Surface Mount Low Noise Amplifier - SOP-8

[misswynters]

The Noble Daughter

Viktor x fem! reader / wc. 1.5k

synopsis: You are the daughter of a influential noble house. And Viktor is your little secret.

warnings: 18+, smut ofc, getting caught, him whimpering, soft sex 🫶🏼, reader getting eaten out, switch lean sub! vik, fingering

there might be some mistakes… -.-

[note | pls don’t just like, but also reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned <3

Every shadow and flicker seemed to embrace the secrecy of your meeting, cocooning you in a world that was just yours and his. Viktor turned at the touch of your hand on his shoulder, his amber eyes widening in surprise before they softened, filled with a mixture of longing and tenderness that made your heart ache.

"You shouldn't be here," he murmured, his voice low and gentle, laced with both worry and desire. But his hand found its way to your waist, as though he couldn't bear the thought of letting you go.

"I had to see you," you whispered back, lifting a hand to his cheek, fingers grazing the roughness of his stubble. He leaned into your touch, and before either of you could say another word, his lips met yours.

The kiss started soft, hesitant, but soon grew with a fierce urgency. Viktor's hands moved to your waist, pulling you close, as if he needed to make up for every second you'd been apart. He broke the kiss only to breathe, his lips brushing over your cheek, your jaw, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched. You leaned back against his worktable, the cool metal pressing into your back.

With a glance up at you, Viktor lifted the edge of your blue dress, his fingers grazing the bare skin of your thigh. The contact of his hands sent a shiver up your spine. His gaze flickered up, silently asking permission, and at your nod, he continued, his hands guiding you, exploring every curve with a careful reverence.

"Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice gentle, his eyes searching yours, filled with both longing and concern. "I don't want you to feel..."

"Viktor," you murmured, sliding a hand along his jaw, tilting his face so he could see the determination in your eyes. "I’m in desperate need of your touch."

He bit his lip and with a shaky breath, Viktor nodded. His eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your waist. He entered you slowly as he filled you inch by inch. This is what you were yearning for. His eyes were shut close trying to suppress his sounds, however here and there a whimper would slip through.

Each thrust was met with the wet, quiet sounds of your bodies slapping against each other, amplifying every sensation in the silence of the lab. All you could hear was the wet squelching sounds you’re pussy made as he continued to fill you.

As he moved, Viktor's hands slid under your thigh, lifting one leg to rest against his hip. The new angle sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you bit down on your lip to keep from crying out, your nails pressing into his shoulders.

Viktor's breath grew heavier, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to hold back his own sounds. His gaze dropped down between you, watching where you were joined, the sight sending a shiver through him that made him let out a quiet whimper, his grip tightening on your thigh.

He began a slow, steady rhythm, each movement creating soft, wet squelching sound that continued to grow rapidly. The intimacy of it, the restraint you both held, only made the tension coil tighter. Viktor's gaze was intense, filled with both wonder and awe as he watched the way your bodies moved together. "I never thought..." he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. "You're... everything I dreamed of."

You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a breathless kiss, muffling both your gasps as he quickened his pace. The sounds between you grew louder, the wet, rhythmic noises blending with the quiet hum of the lab, filling the space with a symphony meant only for the two of you. Every motion, every shift, was precise, Viktor's movements guided by both his passion and his care for you.

The tension built, coiling tight as Viktor's restraint began to slip. His breaths came in shallow gasps, and his eyes met yours with a look so full of longing, of devotion, that it nearly undid you. You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, your body moving in time with his, caught up in the quiet, forbidden passion.

With a quiet, trembling sigh, Viktor buried himself fully, his own quiet whimpers echoing softly in your ear as he felt you shudder around him. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining, grounding you as the last waves of pleasure washed over you both.

In the stillness that followed, Viktor pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, his hands still resting at your waist, as though he couldn't bear to let go. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice full of awe and tenderness. "For loving me... for being here."

Moments have passed since you have reached your first organism and you were still on the table. As the quiet settled over the lab, Viktor held you close for a few lingering breaths, his forehead pressed gently against yours. But soon, the intensity in his gaze softened, replaced by a tenderness that left you breathless.

With a quiet reverence, he carefully knelt before you, his hands resting on your thighs. He was weary to not hurt himself which would cause him more pain on his limp leg. Viktor’s golden eyes met yours as he slowly lowered himself, his expression filled with something almost worshipful. He pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, then to your thigh, each touch lingering as though he was committing every inch of you to memory. His lips moved higher, grazing over your skin with soft, open-mouthed kisses that left a warm, tingling trail in their wake.

Your breath hitched as his mouth moved closer towards your pussy, the intensity of the moment making your heart pound.

Viktor's metal fingers traced along your thigh, the coolness of his touch a delicious contrast to the heat he was leaving with his lips. His long, slender fingers followed the curve of your leg, slipping inside your walls with a grace that was gentle. You felt his thumb press softly against your skin, steadying you, while his other hand reached up to rest at your waist, grounding you in the moment.

The coldness of his metal hand sent a shiver through you, heightening every sensation, and he seemed to notice, a slight smile tugging at his lips. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, a hint of mischief in his gaze. "Still alright?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern, but his tone held a knowing warmth.

You managed a nod, your hand reaching down to thread through his hair, tugging him slightly closer. His lips quirked into a soft smirk before he returned his focus to you, pressing another kiss to your folds. His mouth moved with a slow, deliberate patience. His kisses growing bolder and deeper, as his tongue darted inside you.

Viktor's metal fingers traced light patterns along your skin, each touch careful, his control a testament to his dedication. As he moved higher, his thumb pressed gently along the inside of your thigh, guiding you open for him with a mixture of care and desire. The coolness of his touch, combined with the warmth of his lips, sent tremors through you that you could barely contain.

His mouth hovered near your folds, his breath warm against you, but he paused, looking up with a gaze full of tenderness. "You're... beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur, as though he was confessing a secret.

Before you could respond, his lips finally met your pussy, a quiet, reverent kiss that left you dizzy. His metal fingers continued their journey, a gentle, precise touch that sent waves of sensation through you, heightening every nerve. He took his time, savoring each reaction, each shiver, his mouth and hands working in tandem as he explored, worshipping every part of you with a devotion that left you breathless.

As his cool fingers reached deeper, finding your sensitive spots. His mouth followed, leaving soft, lingering kisses that melted any remaining restraint. The contrast of his cold touch and the warmth of his mouth created a rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the table, biting down on your lip to keep from crying out.

Viktor's pace quickened, his cool fingers moving with a newfound intensity. Each motion was calculated yet filled with passion, his gaze flickering between his hand and your face, drinking in every reaction, every quiet sound you made. His metal fingers, precise and deft, moved inside you at a pace that left you breathless, teetering on the edge as he guided you closer with each stroke.

He murmured soft, breathy reassurances between the kisses that he laid on your thighs. His voice filled with warmth."You're perfect... absolutely perfect," he whispered, his free hand caressing the curve of your thigh.

Viktor's replaced his slender fngers with his tongue again, alternating between teasing flicks and deep strokes, savoring every taste. His metal fingers splayed across your thigh, holding you firmly, while his other hand trailed down to his own body. He shivered as he began to touch himself in time with his mouth on you, his quiet moans and hitched breaths vibrating against you, only intensifying your pleasure.

He glanced up now and then, his amber eyes darkened with desire, watching the way you responded, drinking in every soft gasp and tremble. The sight of your flushed face and parted lips seemed to drive him further, his movements becoming more hungry as he lost himself in the pleasure he was giving you. His fingers dug into your skin, his grip tightening as he grew more desperate, his own moans blending with yours, low and needy.

The lab was filled with the squelching sounds of your bodies. A mix of his restrained groans, the wet, rhythmic noises of his mouth, and your own stifled whimpers. You felt like you could cum any second as your stomach turned tighter. Viktor seemed to sense it, as his tongue pressing deeper, his pace quickening. His free hand gripped your thigh harder, pulling you even closer to him, as though he wanted to consume every last bit of you.

Just as you felt yourself reaching the edge, Viktor lifted his head slowly, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His chest rose and fell in deep, unsteady breaths, his flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression showing just how much he'd enjoyed himself. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your thighs, grounding you as you came back down, while he gazed up at you with a look of pure adoration.

He brought his metal thumb up to wipe away a stray drop from his chin, a slight, satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You taste... exquisite," he murmured, his voice low and rough, a mix of pride and lingering hunger shining in his eyes as he leaned up to kiss you, letting you taste the passion you had just shared.

Viktor then reached towards your soaked pussy to finger you again. The quiet wet sounds filled the air, amplifying the intimacy of the moment, creating a world that felt entirely your own. But then, a faint creak echoed through the room, and both of you froze. The unmistakable sound of the lab door opening snapped Viktor back to reality, and he stilled, his eyes widening as his gaze shot up to yours. You both turned, just in time to see Jayce entering, a stack of papers in hand.

Jayce's eyes met yours first, and then drifted towards Viktor, his fingers still inside you. For a brief, painful moment, silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the distant hum of hextech machinery. Jayce's expression shifted from surprise to awkward shock as the realization dawned on him. His mouth opened, as though he wanted to say something, but words seemed to fail him.

"I... I didn't mean to interrupt," he finally managed, his tone caught between embarrassment and disbelief. Jayce quickly looked away, his cheeks flushing as he backed out of the room, practically stumbling over his own feet.

"I'll... come back later," he stammered, disappearing from sight. The door clicked shut, leaving the lab filled with silence once more. Viktor's face had gone red, his eyes fixed on the floor, clearly mortified. But as he glanced down at you, the edges of his mouth twitched, and a quiet laugh escaped him, breaking the tension.

"Well," Viktor murmured softly, a hint of humor in his voice, "that... was unexpected." He lifted his soaked fingers towards his mouth as his other hand still lingering on your waist, sucking all of your juices as he maintained eye contact. His mouth made a popping sound as he let his fingers go from in between his lips. He then led his once soaked fingers towards the back of your neck, caressing your hair.

"Perhaps we'll continue... later?" he suggested, his voice low, a promise glinting in his eyes as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. You couldn't help but laugh, nodding as you pulled him into an hug. You hoped that jayce didn’t go out and tell anyone what happened. Because if he did and your parents knew, you would sure be in for a scolding.

taglist: @luneariaa @minagrayson @aliives @mammonsleftring @gxrextxgaidk @anna1-1 @bl-0-ndi-3

banner: @cafekitsune

[pseudowho]

18+, MDNI

You always knew Kento had sensitive hands...so while he's drunk and needy, you give him the touch he's craving.

Warnings: Finger sucking, gagging, fingering, handjobs, desperate!Nanami, sloppydrunk!Nanami, cumplay, pre-established relationship/consent

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If six large whiskeys hadn't washed the dirt of the day from Kento's soul, you doubted you'd be able to do much good. That didn't mean you couldn't try.

You smelled him as soon as you entered the living room; not a bad smell, but undeniably the smell of life, earthy and masculine in a way that stirred something nameless, older than the stars, within you. His cologne and the faint deodorised tang of sweat, cut with bitter spirit fumes, led you by the nose to the sofa.

Kento slumped, manspread and sloppy, his head tipped back and woozy. He felt, rather than heard you approach, and his head rolled forwards, a marionette. Liquor glazed his eyes, and a crooked smile slurred across his lips, sliding away as soon as it started.

"Love of my life." Kento rumbled, gravelly with inebriation. You sat beside him, sideways as you faced him, hip flaring a fertile hill beneath the hem of just-his-shirt. Kento's eyes caressed you, long and lascivious. The alcohol made him shameless in a way that leaked, toxic, through the crevices of your defence. You shivered, clamping your thighs together to ease the sudden needy throb.

"Rough day?" You whispered, your fingers moving over to stroke the loosened tails of his tie. Kento groaned, husky, as if it was his skin you stroked. He took another long gulp of whiskey with a hiss. As your fingers plaited with his around his glass, trying gently to remove it, Kento shot you an eerily flat look, scoffing as he resisted and whiskey slopped over his fingers.

"You could say that...look what you made me do." Kento toned, low and slow, and shifted his glass to the other hand. He raised his liquor-glossed hand, wobbling eyes mathematical in how they traced the amber drips, trailing down long fingers towards his wristwatch.

Kento tsked, his usually warm face twisted into a sneer, the alcohol amplifying the spite he'd carried home. "Expensive whiskey, that. I think you owe me, you menace--"

With little thought, you leaned forwards, taking his forefinger into your mouth, licking the whiskey off before it could reach his wristwatch. A strangled noise of bliss left Kento's throat, gasping for a second as your tongue stroked over the pad of his finger. His cock swelled fast, thin-blooded and quickened.

"...sta-stop...ungh, don't. Don't."

Your eyes flicked up to his, devious now.

"...don't?" You mimicked, ready to obey.

Kento's teeth gritted, something deep rumbling in his chest. A barely perceptible shake of the head, blushing faintly at your wicked smile.

You grasped his hand up to your face, brushing your lips over his fingertips, sighing over them. Your breath alone was enough of a caress. Hypersensitive already, and only lubricated by his drink, Kento's breaths grew deep and ragged, his thighs spreading further to accommodate his rapidly thickening length. His other hand, loose around his crystal tumbler of whiskey, draped over the back of the sofa.

Kento watched, hungry and fascinated, squirming with overstimulation as you took his fingertips into your mouth, one at a time, suckling, licking, flicking your tongue over their calloused pads. Kento rested his whiskey over the tenting in his beige slacks, his ring and little finger stretching out to graze over his aching bulge until he shivered.

"...that's it...good girl..." Kento slurred, lubricated with abandon, teeth bared and predatory. "More tongue...more...there we go...hnnn..."

Kento's head rolled back, loose, sighing with spread legs as if it were his cock in your mouth. Gently, insistently, he pressed his first two fingers into your mouth until they touched your throat. Kento looked up at the sound of your wet gag, continuing to thrust his fingers over your tongue, watching as the spit gathered on his knuckles and the tears gathered in your eyes.

"...so good for me...sweetheart...look so pretty..." Kento mumbled, fascinated as he pressed the pad of his thumb down on your tongue, examining your mouth with a thick swallow.

A gasp shuddered out of him as you clamped his thumb between your teeth, kneeling to straddle him. You raised the hem of his borrowed shirt, just enough for him to see that you were bare beneath it.

Kento slopped the rest of the whiskey back with a rusty groan, abandoning the glass so he could dig his fingertips into the fat of your hips, growling as he gave it a shake and barely restrained appreciative slap, just to see it jiggle. His crooked smile returned at your sweet laughter around his thumb.

Returning your sucking attentions to his fingertips, without breaking eye contact, you spread Kento's legs again, reaching in and gripping his erection to release it. Kento hissed, cursing to feel it slap against the neat patch of honey blond hair beneath his navel.

"...sh--shit...lover, I...I can't...no fit state..."

"Then just...take."

"...excuse me?"

"Just take. Just for today, let me..." You sucked his fingertips again, enough to free a desperate, wanton moan from Kento's bobbing throat, "...let me, play with you, instead."

Bleary and drunk, Kento had no interest in refusing such a generous offer, and his moan only dragged longer to feel you suckle his fingers again, your other hand grasping his cock in one long, heavy stroke from ball to tip.

Gasping like a fish out of water, Kento moaned jagged, stilted little moans. You felt yourself throb, edged by watching Kento writhe beneath your strokes. Not wet enough, you removed his fingers from your mouth with one wet pop, for long enough to drop a glob of spit onto his cock head, stroking it over his length, rolling his sensitive tip in your palm until Kento cried out in bliss.

As he thrust his fingers into your mouth, watching you straddle him, jerking him off with genuine enjoyment, Kento felt himself come undone with shocking speed. Reaching down to hook his balls out too, he fondled them in one broad hand for just a few seconds, before dipping his fingers to the honeypot between your legs. The crooked smile grew again to feel you squirm, his fingers teasing at your entrance.

"...thassit...so good t'me...so good...fuck-- be inside...please...good girl..."

Kento was a lecherous drunk, if only with you, and you gasped to feel one thick finger thrust inside you. You squirmed downwards, riding his fingers until he was knuckle deep. Kento had enough tension in his body to keep his fingers stiff enough for you to grind him inside you. Mirroring himself, his other fingers thrust into your mouth, over your wet little tongue, to your gagging throat, and back again.

Only the liquor stripped away the shame he would otherwise have felt at approaching his orgasm so quickly. As your hand sped up with wet little plap plap plaps, so did his, and you felt your wrist ache and your cunt ache and your throat ache with the burn of pleasuring him. It was worth it, to watch him sloppy and groaning beneath you.

You felt a rush, riding his fingers inside you, and the ball of his palm against your clit, unable to wait any longer to feel his cock twitch and pulse in your hand. You didn't need to cum, to feel the deep aching satisfaction of making Kento break.

You wouldn't have to wait; Kento's thighs clenched, and he cursed, gasping with ecstasy.

"--f-fuck...fuuckk I'm...I'm...g'nna cum...haaaaahfuckyesgoodgirl, good giiirrlll--"

Kento bucked into your fist as glugs of cum spurted into your hand, not quite as warm as your own arousal seeping onto his fingers. Kento groaned, long and ragged, with each contraction of his cock, each gradually weakening spurt of milky thick seed onto his belly. Kento shivered with bliss, edging on hyperstimulation as you milked the last drops of cum from him.

Kento panted, rough and devastatingly sleepy as he came down from his high. He groaned, another spurt dripping weakly onto his belly as his fingers slipped out of you, and you wiped off his cum between your folds. He knew, with a possessive rush, that you just liked having it there. He blushed faintly, suddenly himself again, the stress of the day melting off him.

"Shit, I'm...I'm sorry, darling, I...I did nothing for you..."

You pressed a long, silencing kiss to his lips, nuzzling your nose against his with a whisper.

"You'll get me back...I know you will."

[aouiaa]

NOT JUST ANYONE’S | A. ANDERSON

warnings and disclaimers, (enemies to lovers), porn w plot (yay), a word count of 15k+?!, wlw content, mean!abby, jealous/delusional!abby, mentions of reader’s hair, abby being a book wormy, abby describes the reader as a goddess (once), fluff, angst, different povs, bullying, light workplace mistreatment, SEXUAL CONTENT, mean/softdom!abby, sub!reader, semi-public sex (hospital’s office), panties stealing, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, masturbation, usage of a vibrator (once), scissoring, squirting, nipple play, degradation, body workship/praising, overstimulation, usage of pet names (baby, babe, pretty girl, good girl, dirty girl), cum eating, mutiple orgasms, DARK CONTENT, stalking, act of stealing narcotics, cursing, jealousy, alcohol/drug consumption, mentions of inflicting harm on others, acts of frame-up.

TAPE THAT MOUTH SHUT, this is probably one of the biggest/questionable pieces of art i’ve done. though it’s FINALLY fucking done idk how to feel honestly. i just feel like i have such an emotional bind to each and every piece of work i have done. this is my baby, the full nine months and everything, and now the world will see her for her. i feel like a mother watching her baby go off to kindergarten. :”(

ONESHOT PREVIEW | ABBY ANDERSON’S MASTERLIST

PRESENT TIME

saints mary’s hospital - 2:30 am on a saturday morning

the saying goes, “it’s not about how you start, it’s how you finish.” didn’t quite apply. time seemed to move in a blur, making it impossible to piece together a coherent thought. the room filled only with the echoes of your loud, wanton sounds mingling with abby’s, far removed from anything deemed professional. however you weren't concerned with those details, not at all. with the way abby was able to extract those sounds from your throat was almost painful.

almost.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else, but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby.” your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

abby's fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?

MONTHS BEFORE

saints mary’s hospital - 3:20 am on a monday night

the staff room was still mostly quiet, the faint sounds of a few muttered conversations and the soft hum of the fluorescent bulb created a low hum of background noise to complement the bigger situation in hand. you had just finished discarding your dirty gloves and discovered that some residue had clung to your uniform, prompting a soft groan of disgust to escape your lips.

you picked up another clean uniform and quickly changed into it, your mind wandering to the series of events that led you to this moment. working in a hospital meant dealing with a never-ending slew of new problems each day, some imprinting themselves in your memory more vividly than others.

and this time was memorable—at least for the night —for an aggravating sense. it was a vomiting incident in room nine that not only you witnessed, but you were also permitted to clean up after. fun, you thought sarcastically as you trudged your way with a bucket and sponge. nonetheless here you were, the aftermath, running a hand through your uniform to smooth out any wrinkles with your other hand on the doorknob, taking a long, exasperated intake prior to stepping out.

with a final exhale, you turned the knob and stepped out into the main hospital ward. the familiar sounds of hushed conversations and the constant hum of machinery filled your ears as you walked through the hallways.

with your desk in your line of sight now, your body starts to move faster as the thought of getting some much needed rest sets in. despite that, you took a quick glance around, searching for her presence, but finding no resemblance.

a sigh of relief escaped your lips as you settled into the plush chair, the cushions embracing your tired body. hands squeezing the pads provided on the arm’s office chair, this was heaven. but satan herself wouldn’t let that alleviation last for long, she never does. not in this hospital. your body suddenly tensed up and jerked forward as the sound of a hand slamming into the surface of your desk reached your ears. fuck, you thought, your head automatically turning to see the horned asshole with the little tail stuck up her ass.

“what the fuck was that back there, huh? i’ve had people complaining left and right.” she spoke, her face contorted with anger. you knew that was a lie, only there to further embarrass you in front of everyone. the “great” abby anderson was known to make something bigger than it actually was. but you’d be lying if you didn’t say that disruption left you breathless, seemed like all and any explanation that could clear your name left you, but even if you did, would it even work? or would abby deem it as a barely acceptable excuse, or quote “a three year old can lie better than you” excuse?

you could hardly breathe, your mind racing to try to explain yourself. every mistake seemed to be met with harsh criticism, and it was taking its toll on you. your voice wavered as you stuttered out a singular word in response: “what?”

abby’s expression only hardened further, her voice mocking your supposed ignorance. “couldn’t you see the medication you gave her was gonna result in nausea?”

each word was enunciated with sharp frustration, as if you were supposed to have known better, but you didn’t know. it wasn’t stated on the patient's file that she’d react like that. you followed protocol, knowing the consequences if you didn't, and followed through based on the information in hand. you weren’t in the wrong, and you explained that to abby.

though she didn’t seem to care at all, instead her words echoed through your mind like a painful reminder; you keep it up, and you’ll end up on your ass in front of this hospital.

her threat sent a pang of dread through you, and the loud thud of her office door shutting only added to your sinking feeling. you let out a heavy sigh, bringing your hand up to your eyes and rubbing them, trying to ward off the exhaustion and anxiety swirling within you.

your thoughts were interrupted as you realized the truth behind abby’s threat. you had a proven record as a dedicated and skilled employee, and deep down, you knew abby knew it too. there was a reason she couldn’t just fire you on a whim —she needed a valid justification to complete that pesky employee termination form sitting on her desk.

as you pondered on these thoughts, you let out a resigned sigh, the threat suddenly feeling less intimidating and more like a broken record you heard over and over again.

FIVE DAYS LATER

saints mary’s hospital - 11:01 pm on a saturday night

there was a newfound sense of comfort that accompanied your realization. although abby’s words still stung and cut deeply, you now had a silent reassurance— a knowledge that her threats were ultimately empty, that mere words could do nothing. your mind was now at ease, knowing that despite her harshness, she couldn’t truly harm you. the thought gave you a strange sense of power, even as she spewed her usual cruelty.

with your profound resilience, you found yourself feeling more lively and vibrant than before. you no longer fretted over every small mistake or worry constantly about doing your job wrong. your once reserved and introverted self now blossomed, making connections and building friendships where there had been none before.

amelia, the colleague who sat beside you for a year, but whom you had never truly spoken to, was now a friend, and the two of you formed a bond beyond just work-related interaction.

“darling, it’s wishful thinking that the inferno herself would let you off so easily,” amelia teases, the soft pads of her fingertips dancing along the keys of her keyboard. her familiar british accent rolls off and into your ear, making you scoff.

“it’s just for a day.” you mumble, your hands flipping the page to the never-ending paperwork waiting for you. you stop and look at amelia who’s now reclined in her chair, arms crossed with a knowing smirk.

“oh love,” laughed amelia, her playful jab at your wishful thinking only making her more endearing. “i’d love to entertain your rather ludicrous idea, but in doing so would be criminal!”

her words stung a little, you knew she was right, but hearing her say it out loud had you clenching your jaw slightly. abby would never agree to letting you take a day off from the hospital, it seemed like the whole place would fall apart without your presence.

and while it felt like an honor— at times. you longed for just one day off, a single day to rest amongst the countless days spent diligently working at the hospital. how criminal could that be? as amelia called it, you felt your shoulders sag and nodding quietly in resignation. your features must have betrayed your disappointment, as amelia swiftly noticed and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

amelia smiled sympathetically, her eyes soft as she saw your frustration. “cheer up, darling. it was just a quip.” she said softly, her tone filled with comfort.

you tried to hold back your tears when you spoke, your voice faltering as you looked up at amelia. “It's not that. i just… work my ass off, and don't even get the recognition i deserve.” your words trailed off as you let out a frustrated sigh. “and it's not like i’m just looking for that.” you pause to mend the right words together. “just some sort of break from it all.” you quickly sniffle, attempting to hide the tears that had escaped from your eyes during your confession. your embarrassment was evident as you turned away, trying to compose yourself. “god, i’m sorry for this.” you sighed heavily, reaching for a tissue to wipe away your tears.

amelia pats your shoulder, her voice filled with understanding. “no, no, i get it, darling. you need a break as much as anyone does in this bloody facility. perhaps more than hamburger-munching samson over there.” she quips, referring to a less than efficient employee.

you let out a tearful laugh, your grin still tinged with sadness. “yeah.” you agreed, your voice heavy with resignation.

amelia smiled warmly at your smile, her hand giving your thigh a comforting pat. “go ask her, and if she doesn't oblige, tell her i'll cover for you.”

her sweet words of offering to cover for you had you fighting back tears again, determined to not further burden her with your crying, and managed to let out a shaky chuckle.

you try to protest, feeling a pang of guilt for potentially inconveniencing her. “you don't have to do that.” you say softly.

however, amelia is resolute, dismissing your objections with a firm, yet gentle push. “no darling,” she replies firmly. “i don’t, but i want to. now go on.” her insistence is unwavering, and you can see that she will not take no for an answer.

with a resigned sigh of “okay”, you straighten your shoulders and approach the entrance to abby's office. a quick glance back at amelia sees her raising her thumbs in a gesture of encouragement to go ahead. you return a grateful smile before turning back around and lifting your hand to knock on the door. but before your knuckles make contact, the door swings open, revealing abby.

you freeze in surprise, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of abby before you even had the chance to knock on the door. you realize you must look like a fool, standing there frozen with your arm raised in the air. feeling a sudden pang of self-consciousness, you quickly lower your arm and bring your other hand up to cup it gently, almost as if you could somehow conceal your awkward position.

abby’s smile catches you off guard, surprised to see her display such genuine happiness at your surprised arrival. "oh—there you are.” she says.

you stand there, slightly confused by her unexpected demeanor. her next words, spoken calmly, further perplexed you: "come in." this gentle tone is unfamiliar coming from her, as she's never used it with you before, reserving it only for the presence of supervisors.

she leaves the door open for you, a silence gesture for you to enter before taking her seat at her desk. "i was going to call for you, but it seems like you heard my call telepathically." she quips, chuckling at her own joke.

you internally scoff at her stupid joke, quietly shutting the door behind you as you enter her office. "well, don't just stand there, sit." she instructs, her smile still uncharacteristically cheerful— almost eerie. you can't help but wonder if this is all just an act, a facade that will undoubtedly crack like it always does, given abby's fiery nature. however, you comply silently, watching her sift through documents on her desk.

you struggled to keep yourself from asking what she was searching for after you caught a glimpse of it being the employee files. your heart began to race as an oppressive silence enveloped the room, fueling your nerves. was she looking for your file? was this gonna be the moment when she’d reveal the anticipated reason to use on that dreaded employee termination form? your mind swarmed with questions, each more pressing than the last. how much more can you deal with this suspense looming over your shoulder like the grim reaper.

you attempt to speak in a firm tone, but your voice betrays you, wavering at the edges. “why are you so happy?” your own curiosity battling with a sense of reluctance to hear the answer.

“and why are you so gloomy?” she taunts with a smirk, chuckling. “put a smile on that face for me, yeah? you’re gonna do me a big favor.” she admits, her eyes sparkling with anticipation as she mentions the word “favor.” finally finding the paper she had been searching for, she slid it across her desk in your direction. the paper contains the resume of someone you’re unfamiliar with, and your curiosity piqued.

"this is cassidy mcclair," she pauses. "and you'll be her mentor for the week. she's the new replacement nurse after what happened to poor old sadie." a pang of irritation stabs at you as abby uses a condescending tone when mentioning sadie. her untimely demise still weighed heavily on your mind.

you inadvertently let out a scoff as you cross your arms, immediately regretting the impulsive action. abby glances up at you, arching her eyebrow before speaking.

"is there a problem?" her question rhetorical, signaling her indifference to your potential objection. however, you're determined to express your feelings, regardless if rhetorical or not. you werent gonna give some half-ass smile and nod. after all, it wouldn’t be the first time your opinionated mind got you into trouble, as abby so often reminded you.

you respond with a defiant tone, your words clearly expressing your dissatisfaction. “yeah, there is actually.” you retort, your arms remaining defiantly crossed. “you’re supposed to do this. not me.”

abby chuckles at your boldness, her expression growing serious as she responds, “that was rhetorical, surely anyone with a hint of common sense would catch on. frankly, i don’t give a fuck if it is.” she dismisses your argument, beginning to organize the documents on her desk, grabbing the paper in front of you without sparing an eye, her attention now focused elsewhere. despite your differences, you remain silent, yet seething within at her dismissive response.

“be here at eight pm sharp on monday.” she adds, ending the conversation on her terms.

so much for a day off..

AN HOUR AFTER

hospital’s break room - 1:17 am on a sunday morning

after your unsolicited meeting with abby, your emotions were overflowing and the need to confide in someone was at an all time high. though the term 'confide' may be a stretch, considering you practically unloaded your frustrations to the mere mention of "hey, heard you had a meeting with the boss?"

“she didn’t even let me speak, once!” you exclaim, frustration seeping through each and every word, punctuating your sentence with lifting your pointed finger.

talia responds with a sympathetic tone, saying, “she tends to do that..” her words trail off, and you can almost feel the strain in her voice, knowing that she’s the unsuspecting recipient of your pent-up frustrations.

“right! god, she’s so fucking…” you trail off, trying to find the right word to describe her. “infuriating!” you say louder than anticipated.

she looks up from the coffee maker, surprise etched on her face as other heads turn towards you, startled by your outburst. you sheepishly mutter an apology before letting out a dejected sigh. trying to lighten the mood, you force a smile and lean against the counter. "so, have you had to do any of abby's dirty work too?" you quirk an eyebrow.

the long haired girl chuckles at your antics, her gaze fixated on the coffee maker as it slowly fills her cup with the dark, yet energizing substance. she turns her attention back to you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "yeah, actually.” she replies, her voice filled with good-natured sass. "but she made the task sound much kinder when she assigned it." she jested.

you jokingly say, "oh, fuck you," to which she responds with a playful eyeroll, but then curiosity takes over. "but really?" you ask curiously. "how'd it go?"

a dreaded sigh escapes talia’s lips as she recounts her memories of being assigned to mentor a new employee. the mirth vanishes from your expression as she begins to share her experience, the once lighthearted atmosphere replaced by a sense of foreboding.

“oh, terrible," talia responds through the sigh, her laugh edged with strain before looking back at the coffee maker, which is about a quarter away from being done. "sometimes, i wondered what would be inside her head if i were to cut it open. a brain made out of putty, or no brain at all?" her words make you wince as you begin to imagine what your own experience might be like. the idea of being a mentor to a complete idiot was less than appealing.

talia takes notice of your nervousness and quickly tries to reassure you, saying, "but i assure you, your experience won't be like mine." she offers a nervous smile, hoping to alleviate your concerns.

you respond with an uneasy chuckle and a reluctant "yeah.” not truly convinced by her reassurance. you know that only time will tell if her words will hold true, and so you find yourself resigned to the fact that you'll have to impatiently wait until monday to find out.

THREE DAYS LATER

your home - 6:03 am on a monday morning

the incessant blaring of your alarm felt like background noise for the past three minutes, though you've been wide awake for about ten minutes prior to its start. last night, sleep eluded you, as anxiety and exhaustion plagued your thoughts. you had hoped that your previous activities on your day off would tire you and help you sleep, but unfortunately, that was not the case. you had laid awake for an extra hour, struggling until sleep finally took over.

your anxiety, semi-dissociative state can be attributed to your "big day" ahead, as abby had nicknamed it. the thought of the unknown had you sweating bullets. not to mention, your boss’s words that stayed with you like crazy glue, stubbornly stuck in your mind. with reluctance, you forced yourself out of bed and into the bathroom.

as you turn on the faucet, the soft meows of your kitty-cat, charles, reach your ears. your face lights up with a smile as you turn and spot him. you kneel down, showering him with a few gentle pets as he responds with a pleased purr. "hey, buddy," you whisper, planting a kiss on his head. you then stand up to check the water temperature, only to huff in frustration when it doesn't meet your desired level. turning to the kitty by your side, you murmur, "i know, bud. lemme feed you while i wait for the water."

the kitty yowls eagerly and paws at your legs, anticipating its food. you repeatedly tap the can's bottom against the bowl until the food finally falls free, landing on the plate. the cat's excitement escalates as it watches you kneel down to place the plate on the ground. chuckling, you observe the kitty pounce on the food as soon as it touches the ground.

“eat up, spud.” you give your feline friend one last pat before walking away to the bathroom. you undress and check the water's temperature once more, finding it to your liking. with a satisfied nod, you step inside, letting the hot water wash over you and momentarily rinse away your worries for today.

AN HOUR AND HALF LATER-ISH

saints mary’s hospital - 7:28 am

what was meant to be a calming shower had obliterated your sense of time, leaving you in a scrambling to finish your morning routine. with a start, you realize it was nearly seven-thirty, and sprung into action, throwing your clothes on at an almost superhuman speed. you had never dried your hair this quick before in your entire life. yes, abby had mentioned to be there at eight, but you knew that translated to "be there before eight."

you arrive at the hospital just before eight, clutching your coffee like a lifeline, knowing all too well that you wouldn't make it through the day without it. you quickly exit the elevator, stepping into the lobby to find abby engaged in conversation with a red-haired woman.

the ginger had her hair braided, resembling abby's but with more volume. her fair complexion was adorned with freckles, resembling a sky full of stars. like many others on this floor, she wore a blues-and-white uniform, with a small cat pin attached to her shirt pocket. her colorful keys hung around her neck, and her radiant smile oozed an infectious energy, effortlessly drawing a reciprocating smile from you as you approached.

your smile momentarily falters as you overhear abby's sarcastic, yet condescending tone. “oh, there's the princess!" she exclaims, closing the distance to you with the woman following suit behind. this must’ve been the woman abby was talking about, leaving you feeling increasingly anxious, your eyes locked on the girl behind her. however, abby manages to draw your focus as she speaks up.

“this is cassidy. the one i told you about the last time we spoke.” she says firmly, bringing her hand up to her shoulder and beckons her toward you.

“hi.” you say shyly.

cassidy reciprocates the greeting with a wave, her expression a mix of nervousness and surprise. however, before she can respond, abby cuts in, with a tone of sarcasm. “i trust you won't be as late as our little princess here was," she says, referring to you, causing cassidy to nervously laugh and answer with a tentative "no."

your frustration peaked as you clenched your fists, your anger evident. It was clear what abby was trying to do once again, to twist the truth and make you appear worse than you actually are. she smirked, seemingly enjoying your irritation, before patting cassidy on the shoulder and wishing her good luck.

with the condescending smirk, abby leaned in to whisper in your ear, her tone different, dripping with sarcasm. "good luck, princess." and with that, she walked away, leaving you to face the challenge ahead.

"cunt," you silently say to yourself in annoyance, sending a glare at abby's retreating form. after a moment, you plaster on a forced smile and turn your attention to the ginger girl in front of you. you extend a hand and saying, “hi, i’m y/n."

"hi, i’m cassidy, but you already know that," she laughs, taking your hand in hers and shaking it firmly. after releasing her grip, she absentmindedly begins to stroke her braid with the same hand, a subtle fidget that seems to be her go-to anxiety coping mechanism.

you smile, genuinely impressed by her hair color. “yeah, i love the color of your hair, by the way. it's beautiful.” a hint of bashfulness washes over cassidy's cheeks as she responds, "thank you, it's my natural hair."

you let out a soft "cute..." as your eyes dart over her vibrant locks before gathering your thoughts. "well, let's get to work," you sigh, beginning to walk over to your desk. cassidy quickly follows, and upon reaching your desk, you set down your things and greet amelia with a friendly smile. you then turn your attention back to cassidy, clipboard clutched in your hand.

“alright, just follow me this way.” you lead cassidy through the hospital floor, providing her with a tour of the different departments. while the tour starts off awkwardly, you and cassidy manage to strike up some small talk. despite her quiet demeanor, she proves to be a hard worker, efficiently tending to her tasks. you can relate to her reserved nature, knowing firsthand how it feels to be somewhat introverted.

FEW HOURS LATER

hospital’s break room - 12:40 pm on a monday afternoon

after having cassidy follow you around like a lost puppy, occasionally taking notes on her little cat shaped notepad when needed. you both sat in a corner, eating in comfort silence. amongst the normality, you couldn’t help but notice her lunchbox also in a cat-like shape. a soft chuckle escaped you, causing cassidy to look up from her food, her chewing briefly stopped to ask, “what?”

you point out the box which promptly makes her look down, mouthing “oh.” cassidy chuckles nervously, her cheeks tinted with a hint of embarrassment. "i suppose i’m a cliché," she admits, her smile widening. "it’s no secret now that i enjoy girly things.”

you nod, a smile playing at the corners of your lips in response. "i think it's cute." you utter with a slight smirk.

cassidy grins, a hint of self-consciousness in her expression. "you don't think it's too silly?" she asks, seeking validation.

"nope," you reply sincerely, “everyone has their own interests. who am i to judge?" you shrug, emphasizing the point.

cassidy chuckles again, playfully teasing you with her next words. "i'd beg to differ." she pauses for a moment, before continuing, "dr. anderson seems to be quite interested in you." her tone implies a hint of a tease, suggesting that abby's fondness for you may be noticeable to the people around you.

as soon as cassidy suggests that abby has a soft spot for you, you sputter and cough, practically choking on your food. between gasping breaths, you manage to exclaim, "what?! you definitely need your eyes checked!"

cassidy's eyes widen with concern, and she begins to pat your back to help you through your coughing fit. after regaining your composure, you nod, trying to play it cool as she asks if you’re alright. your voice is still strained when you speak, "i’m fine, but what makes you say something like that?" you ask, completely bewildered.

once she's assured that you're okay, cassidy begins to chuckle lightly and leans back in her chair, arms crossed in a confident stance as if she solved the equation pi in her one sitting. "i’ve seen the way she talks to you," she says, low and soft, smirking.

“yeah, she talks like she has a stick up her ass.”

your blunt comment about abby having a "stick up her ass" makes cassidy erupt into laughter. "yeah, that's—that’s definitely true," she concedes, still giggling, "but there's also… a passion behind it." she pauses before continuing. “It's like she does it out of love or something," her eyes fixed on you.

you let out an amused sigh and roll your eyes, responding with a playful retort, "yeahh, I don't know about that." you can't help but chuckle as you continue, "but, that’s definitely crazy talk." you tease, a hint of mirth in your voice.

cassidy laughs, feigning surrender by holding her hands up in a playful gesture. "hey," she says, a toothy grin plastered on her face, "i know what i'm seeing." she retorts.

you continue to eat, a scoff escaping your lips as you try to dismiss her earlier accusations. "you saw a bunch of nothing.” you remark, keeping your tone nonchalant. cassidy responds with a soft scoff of her own, but the silence that follows is strained, uncomfortable, well at least for you… you think.

your mind drifts back to all the times you've interacted with abby, a strange feeling beginning to grow inside you. there were no signs, no hint of anything more than anger and hatred, right? no itty bitty details so unmissable to others, but you? no, it couldn’t be, that’d be ridiculous, hell, every it'd be a synonym in the book ridiculous! there were never any crossovers besides hatred, a mysterious hatred, but hatred nonetheless. come to think of it, you never really found out why she hated you so goddamn much. was it envy? fear? if so, of what exactly?

whatever the case was, it doesn't matter. because you would fucking pay to see her at your mercy. beneath you with a look of hopelessness glistening in her eyes, for it to be her to struggle to utter a simple explanation, only for you to completely demolish the right of speaking. to watch that stupidly neat braid disheveled and her oh so infuriatingly muscular arms that seemed to taunt you, begging to be popped like a balloon.

yeah… you definitely hated this woman.

SIX MONTHS LATER

front desk - 1:30 pm on a wednesday afternoon

gathering any loose strands of hairs from the nape of your neck with one hand, you create a makeshift ponytail, struggling to keep a straight face as cassidy’s stifled laughter resonates nearby. you playfully chastise her, trying to suppress your own laughter.

“stop laughing,” you admonish, your attempt at a stern tone is undermined by your own stifled giggles. “you’re gonna get us caught!”

as luck would have it, you and cassidy had bonded over an unexpected shared interest— a love for plants. and they say that a mother’s life is over when they have kids. quite literal bullshit if you ask anyone with a brain. cassidy, besides being nature’s supporter, was also incredibly humorous, her wit and humor made work a little more bearable.

over a few rounds of cold beers, she had discovered abby’s mysterious hatred for you. her curiosity knew no bounds, weaving theories on why, but never truly connecting the dots. from that point on, she couldn't resist teasing abby when she erupted into her typical outbursts—episodes she jokingly dubbed "hissy fits." just a few weeks ago, she had been assigned to work the counter beside you after amelia went on maternity leave.

"check this one out," the red-head chimes, tilting her phone towards eyes’s view to reveal a piece of media from abby’s instagram. cassidy, as if being a FBI agent was her second job, didn’t break a sweat looking for abby’s entire life online the moment it was plausible.

now, knowing who to call, you glance to see a photo of the blonde with her usual serious expression. the framing itself is taken from an awkward angle. “she’s so stiff, like a damn statue.” she laughs.

you let your hands fall once successfully securing your hair in a bun, a chuckle escaping your lips. "not a bad-looking statue, though," you remark casually, shrugging your shoulders. a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you added, "maybe she should start a new career as a model. the 'stiff but stunning' look could be all the rage."

cassidy quirks an eyebrow your way, a mischievous gleam in her eye as she teases you, “oh, am i sensing something here?”

you respond with a scoff, hastily denying any such notion with playful push. “god, no!” you exclaim, feigning offense, your laugh mingling with her own.

amidst the laughter, your moment is abruptly interrupted by the overwhelming waft of a potent perfume that assaults your senses. immediately, you recognize the scent and dart your gaze towards its source—abby’s new assistant. wearing a top brazenly too small for her ample cleavage with an extravagant makeup job tailored for a circus clown, it's painfully obvious whom this performance is intended to impress.

fucking ‘asshole’ anderson. It’s a pity really; she’s a decent-looking girl, but a relentless ass-kisser. everyone in the hospital picked up on her antics pretty quickly, constantly trying to win abby’s favor. rumors speculated, suggesting they did more than just work together, but hey, they’re just rumors.

“you should be working, abby wouldn’t like this.” her grating voice rings out, dripping with unwarranted confidence.

“we’re on our break, alexa.” you reply coolly, not bothering to mask the distaste in your expression.

she theatrically glances at her watch and purses her lips, stating smugly, “not anymore.” her gaze flicks to you, a smirk playing at her lips. it takes every ounce of restraint you possess not to grab her by the hair and slam her head against the wall. instead, you listen as she adds, "i should be informing abby about this,” she emphasizes with her hand, going in a circular motion towards you and cassidy before finishing. “but she's requested your presence in her office right now."

you stare at her, bewilderment etched across your face. abby? needing you in her presence? the confusion can’t linger long when she impatiently snaps her fingers.

"chop, chop, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” she prompts, her tone dripping with condescension.

fucking bitch.

"you said you needed me?" you inquired, poking your head through the door’s open crack.

"yes, shut the door and take a seat." she affirms, witnessing firsthand the intentitive— almost obsessive behavior driven by a need to be perfection itself. her eyes don’t move from the paperwork at hand, but there’s no need for her body language and demeanor is a revelation on its own.

her stoicism matched almost flawlessly, as if they had been meticulously practiced in the mirror—akin to a morning ritual, like a cup of coffee. and her physique? it’s a memoir to resolution, sculpted from the divine hands of a deity, making you wonder: how could a person be so flawless? is she a forsaken angel, once god's favorite, now cast away from grace?

her voice, now with a hint of a crisp clear edge, breaks the silence, stating firmly, "i need to discuss something with you." her arms are now visible, resting on top of her desk, hands neatly folded together, an action that seizes your attention like a magnet. was this beautiful “angel” of a woman merely toying with you, masquerading as a jester with deceptive tricks?

nervously, you lick your dry lips and nod, responding with a strained voice, "yeah?" she picked up on that.

her eyes narrow with curiosity, and she leans forward, her voice laced with suspicion as she queries, “tell me,” she begins, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. “why do you still waste time with cassidy?” her tone carries a note of mild disdain. “she’s a bit.. odd, don’t you think?”

within the span of a moment, a wave of frustration surges through you, compelling you to argue your case. however, you find yourself inexplicably entranced by her features, unable to break the spell that has woven its way around your thoughts. nodding without conscious thought, your gaze is transfixed on the magnificence standing before you— the artistry of her face and form.

the sun's warm glow streams through the windows just behind her, casting a radiant light upon her as if nature itself were emphasizing its own masterpiece. every detail of her appearance is meticulously crafted, like a tempting apple dangling in front of the unsuspecting. a loose strand of hair falls gracefully in front of her face, accentuating the fine features of her facial structure. the angular lines of her nose seem to carry the weight of her sharp-edged spectacles, and her eyes, often lacking warmth, rarely seek solace in anything but themselves.

the sinew, a testament to the muscularity of her arms, even beneath the loose confines of her doctor’s coat, as if they were destined to stand out, to be admired. the way she held her pen moments ago makes it seem almost insignificant in comparison to her thick fingers, wrapped around it like a vice. her penmanship is impeccable, smooth and faultless, as if her hand is a perfectly calibrated machine.

god’s greatest gifts bestowed on its worst creation alive.

"are you even listening to me, right now?" she questions, her jaw setting tight.

startled, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking to moisten the dry eyes that had forgotten to blink in their fixated state, you confirm. “yes.” no.

“i asked you a question.” she snaps, her voice stern.

“what was the question?” you stammer, feeling flustered under her intense scrutiny.

“why—forget it.” a sudden shift in her expression indicates a change of mind. it seems the words didn’t sound as smart when she voiced them aloud.

“what?” you stutter, leaning forward in your chair. “what were you going to say?”

“i said, nevermind,” she replies, her tone firm and dismissive. “you’re free to go.” she averts her gaze from you, redirecting it towards her paperwork, as if you had suddenly become unimportant and unworthy of her attention.

you’re left dumbfounded, what was that about?

FEW HOURS LATER

your bedroom - 3:20 am on a thursday morning

your sharp gasp and the tension in your body were palpable, confined to the bed where your body lay cushioned. a hand ran through your hair before tugging it tightly, adding to the pleasure that coursed through you. the serene hum of your vibrator, nestled between your legs, was a poor substitute for the fantasies that danced through your mind.

your guilty pleasures, your secret desire.

“oh, abby!” you moaned, the broken syllable laced with longing. images of her flashed through your mind, your body yearning for the warmth of her fingers instead of the cold, mechanical pleasure your toy provided. the thought of being stretched by her strong, capable hands was all it took to push you over the edge.

a wave of ecstasy crashed over you, your body shaking as you orgasmed, the fantasy of abby's touch more potent than the reality. the intensity of your pleasure left you breathless, even as you knew it was only a fleeting escape from reality.

as your mind snaps back, an overwhelming rush of realization washes over you. you toss aside the vibrator, sitting up with a sigh. you can’t help, but feel shame towards yourself. the thought of your boss—the one person who makes your life a living hell—occupies your thoughts. how could you even entertain the thought of her?

a fallen angel, huh?

SAID “FALLEN ANGEL”

abby anderson

she was fucking on one today, and in return she thought you were too. her mind was consumed by you. even the morning coffee, always a comfort, tasted bitter and cold. she didn't even acknowledge the usual flirtatious advances from her assistant when she greeted her this morning. instead, she simply asked for her requested files and retreated to the sanctuary of her office, locking the door behind her.

it was always you, stirring up trouble by merely existing near her. cassidy mcclair, that braid-wearing copycat bitch, had you wrapped around her serpentine fingers. and you? you should have known better than to waste your precious time with people like that, but there you were. in fact, compared to these idiots you had to call coworkers, you were leaps and bounds above them.

you were just making a mistake, a mistake that was costing her sleep— more than she already doesn’t get.

she silently fumed as she stood in front of her office door for her daily check on what everyone was doing, over the years making mental lists of the flaws of each employee. amelia, didn’t know if she was bleating or laughing, and those killer front teeth— literally. one glance and someone’s head would be off. then there was samson, who seemed to do nothing, but shove burgers down his gargantuan throat. she was convinced he never even bothered to chew.

it was laughable, and she could go on and on about the flaws each one of her employees had. but you, well, not a single flaw could be attributed to you. not one mentioned on any list of the many she had. in essence, you were the embodiment of a boss's dream employee—quick on the case, a good sport, but until now, there was one flaw that had eluded you: the habits of hanging around the wrong people.

granted, it's not like cassidy was forcing drugs down your throat, but it was clear she was trouble. competition, that had to be eliminated. but one might wonder, why? why did abby have such a deep-seated grudge against you? why did she feel this burning urge to take you down? just like a pack of wolves, having her sights set on the weak link, ready to pounce.

deep down, abby didn't fully understand her intense feelings towards you. each attempt to articulate her emotions only led to frustration as they were often misinterpreted in the delivery. you made her nervous in a way that was both understandable and utterly perplexing, leaving her with feelings uncharted. in a desperate attempt to maintain control, she decided the best course of action was to keep her fondness for you hidden. surely, as long as you remained oblivious to her affections, there would be no complications, right?

she’d pledge that promise to the death, do everything to her power to keep it this way. there would be no vulnerability, no broken hearts to be on the mend, even if meant being cruel. but when cassidy came and first laid her eyes on you. oh, how she wanted to claw her eyes out just for even staring at you for a millisecond long.

it infuriated her to see how easily cassidy could evoke laughter and smiles from you, things that abby denied herself. many long, self deprecating nights filled with overflowing ashtrays of spent cigarettes and a collection of empty whiskey glasses were becoming too often to be called a casual drinker.

the day she requested your presence in her office, and sat across from her as she filled out the paperwork to transfer cassidy to another floor was a moment of triumph. however, her satisfaction evaporated rather quickly—leaving her dry to the bone. throughout the entire conversation, you appeared to be dazed, barely registering a word she spoke. had she been too late? were you already so smitten with cassidy that you couldn't even comprehend a word coming out of her mouth?

was it already too late?

after you had left her office, abby found herself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts. alone with her musings, her mind raced, and suddenly, all her thoughts aligned. if the two of you were indeed in a relationship, as it seemed so obvious, then separating the two of you would create an irreversible ripple effect. like two peas in a pod, together you were a force to be reckoned with, but tearing one away and crushing it would change everything.

if cassidy wanted to stoop low, she could go lower.

ANDERSON’S ESTATE

4:54 am on a sunday morning

due to the convoluted approval process, the transfer paperwork would likely take weeks, if not months, to be approved. there was no way abby could allow that to happen. by the time the transfer was accepted, you'd be off in dubai for a honeymoon with your apparent soulmate, sipping margaritas without a care in the world. no, she had to find a way to expedite the process, and it had to be done by the end of this overcoming week.

so she found herself in her office, nursing a few glasses of whiskey and indulging in chain-smoking cigarettes, a habit she could never partake in one without the other. surrounded by the solace of her private liar, the alcohol and nicotine fueled her thoughts, as she brainstormed list after list of ways to get rid of cassidy. patient abandonment was one option, but it ran the risk of tarnishing her own reputation as well. however, she was past the point of caring about the repercussions of her actions. all that mattered was taking down cassidy, one way or another.

feeling a mixture of an uncomfortable unfulfillment and disoriented, she runs a hand through her tousled mane. with a groan, rubs her eyes and gets up, smoldering the glowing embers of the cigarette in the overflowing ashtray before trudging off to bed like a pouting toddler.

In the comforts of her bed, shafts of dawn gently seeped through the curtains, with her loyal puppy, alice, sleeping at her feet, whining occasionally as she glanced up at her owner. abby couldn't help but wonder if the dog was attempting to communicate with her, as if offering a cautionary message. was it the effects of the whiskey and cigarettes playing tricks on her mind, or was her canine companion genuinely trying to warn her of impending consequences? these thoughts swirled through her muddled mind, yet the idea of it actually seemed far-fetched.

it’s a thing to think of, and another to do.

ONE DAY, MONDAY

cheshire cat grin

“and i want you all to be more aware— if you haven’t been already.” the firm voice snapped abby out of her reverie.

a weary sigh emits as her body slumps into a loose crescent shape, the strain of sitting in an ass-numbing chair for hours was finally taking its toll, and listening to her supervisor drone on and on about the same old report on employee performance wasn’t helping either. however, one particular statement caught her undivided attention.

the rise in unauthorized narcotics.

the report revealed that there had been a 3% increase in the number of supplies used compared to the usual amount. this increase caused considerable stress for the superior, who advised—no, demanded that all doctors on each floor find the culprit.

with mounting irritation from the current predicament, the overseer noticed abby’s expression and prompted her with a question. “is there anything you’d like to say, abigail?” she inquired, presumptuously.

as the superior fixed a firm gaze on her, abby’s initial instinct was to reply with a simple “no.” but then a new thought took hold. she sat up straighter, straightening her normally confident demeanor even further, and responded with a question of her own. “hypothetically speaking, if i do uncover the perpetrator, what measures will be taken in response?”

the woman’s scoff conveyed a dismissive tone, as if the answer was lingering in the air. she smugly responded, “well, hypothetically, they’d be fired on the spot, and all hospitals in the county would be notified never to employ them again.” there was a brief pause before continuing with that same overly confident demeanor, “so, they’d have to move just to find another job.” eyeing abby as if searching for even the slightest hint of nervousness.

under normal circumstances, abby’s temper would have flared at her superior’s condescending tone, but in that moment, everything was perfect. a polite smile abby offered held more than the naked eye could see.

the jigsaw pieces were falling into place.

TWO DAYS LATER, WEDNESDAY

surprise!

the days melded together, each one weighed down by a stack of endless papers and an incessant, desperate assistant who was over her shoulder, relentlessly nagged for her attention. in those moments of exhaustion, she started regretting ever giving them the slightest bit of her attention in the first place, justifying the brief lapses in her focus as mere 'moments of weakness'.

in obeying her supervisor's advice, she had been carefully observing everyone, with a heightened level of scrutiny directed towards cassidy, intentionally growing increasingly “suspicious” of her. with a fierce determination, she wrestled hard to suppress the many outbursts that threatened to spill over simply due to the sight of you and cassidy together.

even as a child, abby had a knack for fixating on unimportant details, down to the intricate nuances of color. her attention to detail had grown into a deep obsession, enabling her to familiarize herself with an object or being within days. with cassidy, she had approached it like disassembling a game of jenga, meticulously analyzing her every action, carefully calculating her plans. all she needed now was the opportune moment to set everything into motion.

just as she was about to execute her plan, a sudden, unexpected event occurred, as if on cue.

with newfound courage bolstered by a glass of whiskey and a cigarette, she rose from her chair, only for the shrill ring of her phone to pierce the tense atmosphere, and she glanced down to see a rarely-seen name on the screen— her grandmother, susana. an unyielding, meticulous woman, had been a source of inspiration for abby as she grew up, shaping her into the determined individual she had become.

susana, was a renowned fashion designer based in paris, a demanding professional life that had left her with limited time to spend with her beloved granddaughter. with a huff, sitting back in her office chair, abby picked up her phone and pressed it against her ear, preparing for their conversation.

"oh, my darling abigail!" the sound of her grandmother's sweet, melodic voice filled abby's ear.

a subtle wince crossed her face, and a forced smile tugs at her lips, almost as if her grandmother could see her through the phone.

"hi.” she responded, prompting her grandmother to lightheartedly tease, "oh, darling, why so timid?" her chuckle echoed over the line.

abby responded with a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. "sorry, gam-gam, I'm just a bit stressed." she confessed.

her grandmother replied with a lighthearted hum. “well, in that case, meet me at the cafe down the street for a little whine down.” and with a click, the line went dead, leaving abby scarcely a moment to protest.

with a heavy sigh, she tossed her phone aside, muttering, "damnit." frustrated, she ran a hand over her face.

in the reserved confines of their booth, her grandmother inquired with a casual tone, "so, did you receive my letter?" she pierced a strawberry with her fork, taking a bite.

abby responded with a nod, her thoughts momentarily astray to the brief moment earlier when she'd seized the opportunity to execute her plan on cassidy's unattended bag during your lunchtime in the break room. she knew such an opportunity might not present itself again anytime soon, as cassidy was set to be away until friday.

“and the book?”

abby paused, strawberry mid-air on her fork, perplexed by her grandmother's question. "what book?" she questioned with a full mouth, confusion lacing her voice.

her grandmother sighs, explaining, "the book didn't arrive?" she grumbled about the subpar mailing service. "doesn’t matter," she continued, "we can just head over to the bookstore after and replace it." her interest piqued as her grandmother added that it was another mythology book, a favorite topic of hers.

abby's eyes sparkled with excitement. "awe, sweet! i’ve been meaning to go." she responded enthusiastically.

the older woman chuckled, observing, "old habits die hard, I suppose." she then posed a question that seemed to ignite her interest even more. "tell me, have you managed to swoon any girls with your extensive library of knowledge?" her grandmother's smile grew wider at this question, her genuine wish for abby's happiness evident. how could abby possibly ruin her grandmother's happiness?

abby wasn't one to lie, but she felt compelled to do so, especially since the truth was more difficult to share. a gentle smile tugged at her lips, and a blush appeared on her face as she played with the blueberry on her plate. though it was a lie, it was an effortless one. "well, there's this one girl at work," she began, her voice growing more softer. "she’s incredibly sweet, and I think she likes me." the rosiness in her cheeks deepened, adding a touch of authenticity to her fib.

“awe, sugarplum, who is it?”

“her name is y/n.”

ANOTHER TWO DAYS LATER, FRIDAY

the final act

after two days of being completely immersed in the book, abby managed to force herself back to reality. cassidy had reappeared, prompting abby to resume her daily observations. she diligently watched over you and cassidy, particularly monitoring the red-head’s interactions.

she had arranged a private conversation with the supervisor, raising concerns about “suspicious” behavior involving cassidy. the supervisor guaranteed action before six pm that afternoon. all she needed to do now was secure her bag alone before then. abby set an alarm on her watch, stashed the narcotics in her pocket, and exited her office, determined to carry out her plan.

she closed her door and was immediately greeted by the familiar sounds of chatter and movement, the distinctive scent of the hospital filling her nose. as she inhaled, it was as if she was breathing in the purest air. but then, the explosive sound of a voice abruptly shattered her moment of comfort. she jumped in surprise and turned her head to see a nurse.

"sorry, doctor," she apologized, her smile tinged with nervousness. "i—uhm, have documents for you to sign for a discharge." she extended the clipboard, waiting for abby to take it.

still feeling discombobulated, abby nodded stiffly as she accepted the clipboard and signed it. “are… are you okay?” the nurse's question caught her off guard, prompting her to look up. "yes—yes, I'm fine.” she replied, her voice somewhat strained.

saying a brief goodbye, she walks down the hallway, and sees cassidy getting dressed in the staff room. abby smirks, and walks inside just as she’s gonna leave. the initial door opening scares, making her jump back, and she sees it’s abby, she greets her with a smile, and quick hi, trying to exit. but abby isnt gonna let her leave so quick.

abby says a brief farewell and proceeds down the hallway, catching sight of cassidy dressing up in the staff room. she stops with a grinch-like grin saunters into the room just as cassidy is about to exit. the sudden door opening startles cassidy, making her jump back. she quickly greets abby with a smile and a casual "hi," attempting to leave. however, abby is determined not to let her go that easily.

"hey, wait." abby halts cassidy in her tracks with a firm arm grab, causing her to stop.

cassidy looks up, bewildered, and clutches her bag close to her shoulder, waiting to see what this was about. abby’s eyebrows furrowed, it’s been truly a long time since she stood by her self-proclaimed enemy. she didn't seem to have changed much— not that she cared to notice, except for the new pin on her shirt— a small pride flag, cute.

abby scoffs, chuckling which prompts cassidy to raise an eyebrow. “what’s so funny?”

in response, she shakes her head dismissively, replying with a hint of mischief, "nothing, just a joke i remembered." adding slyly with a cunning smile, she continues, "how do you like working here?"

cassidy swallows, her nerves becoming visibly apparent as she nods in agreement. "it’s good," she reiterates, adding, "yeah, i love working with the children."

abby hums in response, laughing. "well, don't let me stop you." she promptly opens the door for cassidy, eliciting a smile from her in response, and as she begins to pass through, the taller blonde adds. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

as she watched cassidy leave with her bag in hand, abby's emotions were divided. she felt a sense of sheer satisfaction, empowerment, her lips twisting into a muscle straining grin as she watched the bag recede into the distance, carrying her ticket goodbye. and she didn’t feel an ounce of regret because she did warn her. to enjoy it all, her time at the hospital to its fullest, and she meant it. true to her nature, abby prided herself on consistency, even more so in her efficiency, like a stealthy ninja.

in and out, no flaws, no witnesses.

no window for the light to shine through.

THE LIGHT

cascading over your form was from the now straining lamp above. your head ached, overwhelmed by the events of the day. but one interaction stood out as particularly odd— an event you didn't take part in, rather witness instead.

it seemed under every blue moon that cassidy and abby would interact, despite working on the same floor. there were no crossovers, so when a hand broke that line. there was something unsettling about the whole interaction, especially the invader's body language. her movements were mechanical, unnatural even, making it all hard to ignore.

a chill runs down your spine as you consider the implications. you know what you witnessed, but it feels almost unbelievable. just as with notorious serial killers, you struggle to comprehend the thought processes behind such heinous acts. perhaps this lunatic in particular requires her own account to explain her motives and actions.

you arrived at just the right moment, only a few seconds before their conversation ended. fortunately, you had come in time to witness abby casually slipping something into cassidy's bag while she was turning away. the object had a distinct pill bottle shape, subtle enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention, but enough to pique your interest.

the rumors of stolen narcotics had been circulating, and a mysterious culprit was being gossiped about behind closed doors. you and cassidy had spent some time discussing the topic, sharing silly theories, though nothing more than just pure hearsay.

your eyebrows furrow in thought, though it wasn't helping. instead, only intensified the now throbbing headache, slowly morphing into a full-blown migraine. with your hands holding your head up, you look down at long forgotten paperwork that was meant to be done from the comforts of your own home, but considering the distressing state you’re in. it was far from comforting now.

with a frustrated sigh, you flick off the lamp and abandon your paperwork, ready to rise from your desk. suddenly, your phone rings, jolting you with a spike in heart rate. you glance down at the caller ID.

you immediately answer the call, only to be met with cassidy's hysterical voice. through her sobs and gasps, she reveals that she was fired due to stealing narcotics. your worst fears were confirmed; it was no longer just a mere theory. you had indeed witnessed abby slipping something that resembled a small pill bottle into cassidy’s bag.

as you try to console your friend, a whirlwind of emotions begins to roil within you. some of that emotion directed towards yourself, but strongly towards abby. it was true, you saw it with your very own eyes, and yet chose to wait. you hated the fact that it took you so long to come to your senses, and a wave of guilt consumes you for not marching straight to the supervisor moments after witnessing it.

even if it was too late for your friend, it wasn’t for abby.

the lobby, now shrouded in dimmed lighting with very few sources of illumination, seemed like something straight out of a horror movie. paying no mind to the eerie ambiance, you quickly make your way towards abby’s office door, knowing she typically uses this time to prepare the employee’s schedules. the reasoning behind why she does it in her office is unknown, but frankly, not your biggest concern.

your knuckles collide forcefully against the wood, channeling the full extent of your anger’s strength. the door swings open, revealing a slightly taken aback abby. she utters, “what—what are you doing here?” her tone seems somewhat off.

you don’t waste any time, no words, and cut straight to the chase. “what did you do to cassidy?”

she raises an eyebrow in confusion, responding, “what are you talking about? are you on something, y/n?”

without hesitating, you push past her into her office. turning your head at neck breaking speed to set your hardened gaze onto hers. your voice takes on a more firm tone: “am i? are you?!”

you repeat your question with unwavering determination. “what did you do to cassidy?”

with a scoff, she crosses her arms, feigning innocence. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.” she denies.

“oh, don’t play dumb,” you retort, your gaze unwavering. “you know exactly what i’m talking about! tell me, what was it that you threw into her bag?”

she nervously swallows, her composure faltering for just a moment before she regains control. this reaction was all you needed to confirm your suspicions.

"that’s confidential.” she repeats assertively, making her way behind her desk.

"confidential, my ass!" you yell in response. "i know damn well what i saw!"

she stops in her tracks and turns her head to face you, a look of indignation on her face. “what did you just say to me?”

ignoring her interruption, you push on, demanding answers. “what did you do to her? what did you say?!” your fist clenched tightly.

for the first time, she drops her facade, maintaining eye contact without hesitation, as she admits. “i gave her a little parting gift.”

the intensity in her eyes makes your blood run cold, trying to gather a sense of what her cryptic response implies. you stammer. “what—what does that even mean?”

she suddenly realizes the gravity of her confession—how she inadvertently revealed her actions, but anger clouds her morality. "just drop it.” she grits out through clenched teeth, patience wearing thin.

the fire in your eyes flares up, brimming with anger and defiance that refuses to let you back down. "no!" you firmly retort. "you’re going to tell me!" frustration seeps through your voice as your patience wanes. you’re tired of her smug superiority, the audacity to act as if she had everyone under her command.

her lips curl into a smirk, her voice oozing with sarcastic scorn. “oh, i’m gonna tell you?” she taunts, scoffing. “tell you what? about your little friend?” her tone carries undertones of something against your mere friendship with cassidy.

the mention of something more regarding your friend sends a pang of defensiveness coursing through you.

"what?" you breathe out, taken aback. "what does that even mean, huh?"

she takes a step forward, each breath heavy and labored. her voice betrays her impatient nature, a predator preparing to pounce. “oh, you know what that means,” she retorts, scoffing internally at how dull you’re being to an obvious situation. despite the tension in the room reaching a high, it’s abby’s intensity that seizes the moment. you half expected to see her licking her lips with anticipated hunger, like a ravenous beast.

it sends a rush of conflicting emotions coursing through you—an alluring mixture of curiosity and trepidation. the encounter itself feels like a high-stakes game of chess where you struggle to predict your opponent's next move. as you step back, your confidence falters, and your voice softens into a small whimper.

“i don’t...”

abby catches onto this, pouncing on it like a hungry lion sensing weakness, further igniting her motives.

you gasp as your back meets the cool, solid wood behind you. in an instinctive movement, your eyes flick briefly behind you before darting back forward. only to find abby’s overbearing presence suffocating your personal space.

"oh, i think you do." she rasps, tilting her head to the side, a chuckle escaping her lips. her faltering gaze lingering to your lips for a fleeting moment before pulling away. her tone seethes with anger, words biting as she scoffs.

“you think you’re so damn slick, huh?” she paces back and forth, a fierce intensity in her stride, causing you to wince in response.

“you act like i wouldn’t catch on to your little games, as if it wasn’t painfully transparent to everyone around you!” her frustration builds, and she raises her arms, unleashing a frustrated sigh before bringing them down forcefully to slap her thighs. "as if i wouldn’t notice!”

you couldn't understand where this anger was coming from. sure, she had always been an asshole, but lately, her outbursts and irritability have seemed to reach a new assholery. and it seemed to have started around the same time you had become friends with cassidy. It was almost as if your newfound friendship had awakened something within her, something darker and more volatile. perhaps jealousy?

abby’s anger blazes brightly in her eyes, her words sharp. "god, you’re infuriating," she says, her voice laced with hostility. "like some fucking prodigy, you think you know everything, don’t you?!" she emphasizes with lurching her body forward, her hands slamming down on the desk either side of you, effectively trapping you in place.

your breath hitches as she draws nearer, her proximity sending an intoxicating wave throughout your body. the intensity of her anger is palpable, every labored breath brushing against your skin like a gentle caress. her lips are tantalizingly close to yours, separated by an annoying invisible barrier that could be shattered at any moment if she so desired. just one push.

"fuck you, abby!" you hiss, your voice faltering for a moment before hardening. "you always had a goddamn bone to pick with me, you piece of shit!" your words linger in the air, carrying years of built-up resentment directed at abby. but the shock of her unexpected confession wipes away your outrage, replacing it with astonishment.

"because i love you!" she yells, her voice ringing out louder than intended. her revelation hangs in the air, rendering you speechless. as those words sink in, your breath catches in your throat. "what?" you manage to croak out, hardly believing what you've just heard.

you observed a flicker of vulnerability in her expression that's quickly replaced by a hardened composure. there was no turning back, the cat was out of the bag, and so she only pressed forward with determination.

her voice descending to a low, sultry tone, she says "you think watching what's mine prancing around like a slut at her own workplace doesn't make me livid?" each word drips with possessive anger and suppressed desire.

your voice comes out smaller and fragile than anticipated as you muster the words, "i’m… i’m not yours." you struggle to meet abby's intense gaze, your body tensing subconsciously as you push yourself against her desk, attempting to create some space between the two of you. the air is thick with tension, the room practically vibrating with the weight of abby’s confession and your denial. you felt trapped, your body practically molding into the desk behind you.

"do you believe that?" she inquires, raising a brow in challenge. she lifts a thumb to slide across your bottom lip, her touch firm yet almost teasing. she pauses for a moment before letting out a gravelly chuckle, further probing into the tension. “i don’t.” she admits with a light shrug. her movements felt taunting, yet calculated as if she’s trying to catch you in a lie, and to fess up.

abby was frustrated, bordering on infuriated, trying to make sense of the situation. her mind was a tangle of emotions, and she felt like she was grasping at straws, trying to connect the pieces in her head. she had the mental board laid out in her mind, each string connecting to a different thought, all pointing to one central question: you and cassidy, and the enigma of your poorly hidden relationship. this uncertainty fueled her anger, and you weren’t making it any better. she wanted to do something— anything— to show you that you weren't just anyone's; you were hers.

"what about alexa, huh?" you ask, gaining a peak of confidence, your words snapping her attention back.

“what about her?” she questions truthfully, amused by your presumed jealousy. “you jealous?"

caught off guard and exposed, you feel the equilibrium shift, upending the chess pieces in your mind. "i’m not jealous," you insist, realizing the power her words hold. it’s as if she has cornered you in this game, check. mate.

“oh, sure you aren’t." abby steps closer, her body pressing against yours, trapping you between her and the desk. her words take on a dual edge of ire and yearning as she smirks. "i should’ve known with the way you’ve been acting, you’re practically begging me to put you in your place.” she murmurs, chuckling gravely. "to fuck you until you can only say yes, doctor anderson." she feigns a high pitch moany tone, a lewd and terrible, yet obvious admit of sounding like you as she says “yes, doctor anderson.”

she laughs before humming, seeming to enjoy that fantasy as she lets herself become lost in the idea for a moment before continuing.

abby’s features lean in closer, the heat from her breath caressing the apple of your cheek as she murmurs against your ear, “tell me, do you let cassidy make you her personal pocket pussy?” her words send a shiver down your spine as her hand moves to caress your cheek, pausing to let you feel the weight of her question in the air before inquiring further, “to bend you over anywhere, anytime, and you’ll just take it like a good girl?” her words laced with a lewdness that sends a thrill through your body, despite the fact that you know you should reject the notion. the question itself was filthy, taboo, and utterly intoxicating. but you couldn’t deny the existence of being drawn to it, deep down knowing more than ever if you ever were to think of that fantasy, you’d want it to be her, not cassidy.

“no, no, it’s not like that.” you attempt to defend yourself, trying to find the right words, but abby interjects before you can say anything else. she scoffs at your attempted denial, her grip on you tightening, causing you to wince. her voice lowers into a dark laugh, her disbelief evident. "oh really? you really expect me to believe that bullshit?"

her name escapes your lips in a gasp, but abby cuts you off yet again, her eyes darkening as she speaks.

"lemme tell you what it's like," she begins, her tone husky. “i think you'd like it. hell, you pray that it does happen because you're nothing but just a pathetic girl who wants some attention. is that what you want? attention?" abby inquires, licking her teeth in an almost predatory manner. your heart races in your chest as her words cut through you.

the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unexpressed desire and emotion. you find yourself unable to hold back any longer, your voice quivering as you voice your deep-seated need. “i want your attention," you confess, your words almost inaudible, they're so faint.

even if faint, she heard all of it, dissected each syllable. it’s all she ever wanted, no, needed to hear from you. “yeah?” her voice falters into a soft whimper, tilting her head to the side and grabbing your cheeks with her large hands, only now focusing on your lips. “i’ll give you all my attention.” she promises, swiftly pulling your face, smashing yours onto hers.

your body trembled from the conflicting sensations, a clash of cold and hot, a maelstrom of warring emotions. years without her touch had left you craving her embrace, and her lips on yours sent heat coursing through your veins. though the kiss stood unspoken, there was no need for actions that spoke louder. both hatred and desire intertwined, two sides of the same coin, fueling this volatile gesture. your hands roamed her body, exploring every curve and contour, as hers did the same, desperately pulling you closer, kneading your flesh like clay. your hands finally found a resting place on her shoulders, gripping her like a lifeline in the storm of sensations swirling around you.

your movements, your gasps and sighs, fueled the fire within abby, and with a determined strength, she hoists you up onto her desk. the sudden change in position elicits gasp from you, pressing your body against hers with an arch, and abby seizes the moment, slipping her tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth with a fervent passion. it was a dance both familiar and new, a moment of fiery connection that consumed you both.

her breath ragged, lips tingling from the passion of the kiss as stares down at you, her eyes dark and filled with hunger as she murmurs her confession. "i've always dreamt of this… having you," her fingers roaming over your body slowly as she says this, relishing in the way you react to her touch. she presses her forehead shading yours, her dilated eyes reflecting the depth of her desire. her cold thumbs find their way underneath your clothes, tracing slow circles, sending a shiver through your body. "having this feeling of your skin under my fingertips."

your voice quivered as you call her name, and for a moment you think your plea to have her lips on yours again are answered, but instead, she finds her new focus, your neck. her lips fall, leaving a trail of kisses and love bites. the sound of your whimpers only spurred her on, her hands gripping your hips possessively as she continued to mark your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys.

abby was in her element now, and your desperate tone only fed her desire. she wanted more, to hear you call her name even more. with a smirk, she lifted her head, eyes burning with amusement. "yeah? you like the sound of that, pretty girl?" she muses, her hand suddenly landing a sharp smack on your thigh, making you jump. in response, she chuckled at your reaction, her laugh sent tingles down your spine, a mixture of amusement and desire. her grip on your thighs tightened, pushing them higher up, and drinking up the sight of you, spread before her with your feet on the desk sent abby's desire spiraling out of control. she couldn't help but lick her lips, taking in the full view of your flushed skin and parted legs. you couldn't hold back a squirm, feeling so exposed— though you weren’t — under her intense gaze.

"i love seeing you like this," she murmured, her voice thick with arousal. she steps towards you again, nestling herself in the newfound space. her lips return to your neck, greeting the previous bruises plastered on your neck with soft licks and kisses. "so desperate and needy."

her hands leave your thighs as she lifts herself up to meet your gaze, taking in your already disheveled state. with a hum of satisfaction, she asks, "who gets you like this?"

you manage to respond with a barely audible, "you, abby." she hums at your whimperish respond, a smirk crossing her lips at the confirmation, "yes, not that bitch, cassidy. me. and only me, right, baby?" she gives a slight nod, as if she’s responding for you.

the blonde brings her hand up to your lips, watching as you open your mouth to invite her thumb, which she eagerly accepts.

she let out a low, guttural groan as you suck and lick her pad of her thumb, enjoying the sensations that your mouth causes. she couldn't resist the urge to voice her thoughts, her words thick with possession and desire.

"hm, such a dirty girl." she paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, before amending her statement with a husky tone, "my dirty girl."

you release her thumb with a pop, humming a tone of satisfaction, and licking your lips to savor the lingering taste of her. a chuckle escapes abby's lips as she watches you, her eyes roaming your body yet again. the desire to rip your clothes off and shut you up has been building since the moment you walked into her office, "take this off, baby. you’re killing me with not showing me what's mine," she growls, her words tinged with need and possess. "need to see it, feel it. need." she mumbled against your skin, completely submitted to her delusions. you don’t fight this time, barely able to remove each article of clothing with abby eagerly kissing and licking every available inch of skin. but stops at your bikini line, encountering a setback— your underwear — cockblocking her.

her eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, looking up at you with an almost comical expression of frustration, and offense. as if being unable to take off your underwear because of her was a you problem. “funny.” she retorts, tone dripping in sarcasm, but nothing on her face shows amusement. “real fucking funny.” she remarks, punctuating her words with a sharp smack to your hip, kneading at the red skin roughly, making you wince. “you fucking tease.” she continues, her voice laced with a mix of desire and irritation.

"i should punish you for that little stunt," her fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear, intending to pull them down herself since you’re incompetent to do so. “but, fuck, look at all this.” she relents, sliding them off your legs— and pocketing them for later — to reveal your core, practically weeping for her. “all this f’me?” she pants, eyes flicking up to yours.

a whiny moan of her name slips past your lips, but she shushes you gently, her voice softer now. "i know, baby, i know." she cooed, her large hand running comfortingly up and down your side. as she spreads your quivering legs further, exposing your drenched folds, abby feasts her eyes upon the sight before her. her lips curve upward, "fuck," she breathed, her eyes never leaving your pulsing core. “look at this pretty pussy. this is prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen—this has to be mine.” she leans down, her warm breath ghosting over your clit before she pressing a tender kiss there, savoring your reaction to her smallest touch, and now wondering what other reactions she could get out of you.

you weren't prepared for what came next, not one bit. expecting her to take things slow, you were completely caught off guard as abby gripped your thighs and, in one swift motion, separated your slimy folds, lapping any sweet nectar waiting for her. you tense from sudden sensation, letting out a loud, unapologetic moan as you arch off the desk. your hands instinctively tangle themselves into her steady braid that soon unravels from being used as reins.

encouraged by your fervent response, abby delved deeper, her skilled tongue tracing a path to your engorged nub. enclosing it between her lips, she whispered her praise, "you taste better than i thought." her voice trembled, mingling with your own moans.

as her teeth gently nipped at your sensitive bundle, you cried out, your thighs involuntarily squeezing her shoulders. a wicked smirk graced her lips as she basked in your reaction, taking immense pleasure in your submission.

the unexpected pinch sent jolts of shock through your body, your limbs twitching and writhing in a frenzied dance. in response, abby repositions her left hand on your abdomen, gripping tightly to anchor you in place. each sound that escaped your trembling lips fueled her hunger, her throaty hums resonating against your flesh. with a devilish gleam in her eyes, she teasingly traced circles near your navel with her thumb, heightening your anticipation.

a groan rumbled in her throat when your fingers gripped her hair, the sensation only spurring her on. her mouth fastened more insistently around your swollen nub, sucking harder as you cried out her name. the strain in your voice confirmed her suspicions: you were on the cusp of your release, and she was eager to push you over.

abby's fingers joined the fray, sliding in and out of your slick folds with practiced ease. her relentless assault on your clit continued, her touch sending shivers through your body and causing your breaths to come in ragged gasps. the sight of you, quivering and exposed before her, stoked a fire within her, a determination to send you flying over the edge.

abby derived an addiction from your pleasure. each moment of ecstasy seemed to fuel her further, driving her to amplify the tempo and depth of her ministrations. as the room filled with the lewd symphony of flesh meeting flesh and intertwined heavy breaths, something stirred within abby. something unfamiliar, uncharted. normally, she would exhibit unrivaled confidence during intimate encounters, but with you, it was different—more intense, deeper. a desperate craving to be perfect, to ensure you'd never seek anyone else but her. she’d hate to admit it, but the realization gnaws at her: the longing for you even after this is over.

"who's making you cum tonight?" abby questioned the obvious once more, but her arrogance tone underlined the strong need for reassurance. your moans were her only response, and while she adored the sweet sounds, she craved more. a sudden shift in her fingers’ movements made you yell out, "you, abby," your words punctuated by cries of pleasure.

her fingers, now confined within your tight grip, sensed the growing tension, the impending eruption, the imminent of your orgasm. "uh-huh, come for me," she ordered, "let me hear who’s making a mess of you."

the warnings of your impending release came with fervor, each thrust hastening to the inevitable snap of the tightening band in your abdomen. then when it did, a cry rang out, loud and clear, as her name left your lips in tandem with your essence painting her features. in this haze of euphoria, you suddenly find a sense of clarity, wondering how in all worlds did you end up in this situation, in the arms— or rather the mouth of your boss?

it’s rather short lived, quickly fading into a hazy blur. you threw your head back as her eyes closed, savoring the taste of your ecstasy with a hum, helping you through your orgasm until your body laxs.

withdrawing her fingers, abby admired the sight of your juices clinging to them, a testament to her efforts. a satisfied smile stretches across her face as she reveled in the knowledge that she had brought you to such heights.

she licks them clean, feeling a rush of gratification that only you can provide. releasing her fingers with a soft pop, her lips make way and pave along the curve of your hip, leaving a trail of wet, sticky kisses behind as she moves up to stand before you. “such a good girl..” she mumbled against your skin. you lift yourself up with your elbow, taking a moment to catch your breath, your body still quivering from the intensity of your orgasm that has left you momentarily speechless. you couldn't help, but notice abby’s disheveled appearance as well. untangled, her hair strays from its famed braid, now flowing around her face like a cascade of waves.

but before you could comment on the sight, she claims your lips in a tender, sweet kiss, her hands cupping your face. the connection was brief, and when she pulled away, a grin lit up her features. without another word spoken, she unclothes herself, revealing herself in all her glory. you knew she worked out, but goddamn, did she work out! the determination to achieve the physique showed immensely. in your admiration, you felt the apple of your cheeks warm up, causing you to look away.

"don’t go shy on me, babe," she chided playfully, repositioning your face to meet hers. she seals the deal with another kiss pushing you down gently onto the desk. "lay back f’me, ‘kay?"

with a nod, you comply, watching as the corded muscles in her arms flex as she moves into position, lifting your leg. a grin tugged at the corners of your lips as she placed a tender kiss on your ankle, making her soft chuckle fill the air in return before she securely set your leg on her shoulder.

the moment your wet folds connected, a guttural moan escaped her lips. the sensation was everything she craved, wasting no time in starting a vigorous grinding motion. as she ruts back and forth, she can’t help but mutter curses under her breath, lost in her own pleasure. "fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good." she hisses, throwing her head back. the raw intensity of her emotions written clear as day on her features.

her concentration nearly falters when she glances down, and the sight that met her eyes threatened to make her cum on the spot. the image of your hair spread out across the desk, your bouncing breasts with every upthrust combined with the feeling of your warmth against hers drove her to near insanity.

abby swore she had to be on the edge of a near-death experience, or some type of dejà vu as she gazed upon you in awe, swearing that you resembled a goddess straight out of a mythology book she had once read. though the memory of the goddess’s name was just out of reach, abby couldn't shake the feeling that she had personally seen a painting she once visited come to life in front of her very own eyes.

your hair, freed from its usual up do, was now cascading around your head and spilling off the edge of the desk like an ebony waterfall. your body, unrestrained, was a breathtaking display of femininity. each heaving breath caused your breasts to sway gently, your nipples hardened in anticipation. the way your skin glistened with a thin film of sweat only added to the captivating tableau.

in that moment, abby could almost imagine you as a divine muse from an ancient myth, a vision of beauty and desire. if she didn't snap herself back to reality, the mere sight might have been enough to send her hurtling toward an orgasm. but she had other plans, and she was determined to make them happen.

without warning, abby leaned down, her left hand resting beside your head to brace herself. as her mouth wrapped over one of your taut nipples, her tongue danced over the sensitive bud. simultaneously, her free hand kneaded your other breast, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. your hips bucked involuntarily, meeting her thrusts, and for a moment, it stuttered her pace, a low moan escaping her lips.

"fuck—baby, don't—don't do that," she pleads, filthy groans slipping pass her lips as her hand slides down to your hip, holding you firmly in place as her engorged clit pulsated with building intensity. she was determined to make you cum before she did.

your whispered invocation of her name caused her to glance up at your flushed, disheveled appearance. the sight was a temptation she couldn't resist, and crashed her lips against yours, the feverish kiss mirroring the urgency of your coupling. the closeness and ferocity of both embraces unconsciously synced your movements, hips rocking in unison.

"fuck! abby, i’m gonna cum, please!" your gasps grew heavier and staccato, your forehead pressing against hers as her pace quickened, breaths entwining. normally, abby would step in and reprimand her employees for behaving too freely when seemingly having too much fun. however, in this moment, she actively encourages it, the atmosphere brimming with an intense hunger for it.

"i know, baby, i know." abby's hand found your cheek, stroking it soothingly as if trying to appease your mind to allow what’s inevitable. "cum for me—cum with me," she pants, her pace faltering as she reached her zenith. her arms enveloped you, her hair acting as a curtain around the two of you. guiding you through your release, the slick of your shared pleasure coated your entwined bodies.

once over, abby’s rhythm ceased, and she collapsed on top of you, utterly spent. the weight of the night's passionate encounters bore down, leaving the two of you entwined in the afterglow.

in the act of catching your breaths, it gave abby post-nut clarity. her cheeks reddened, overwhelmed with shame for her past behavior, guilt gnawing at her insides as she realized how much of an ass she had been. it makes her get up, promptly making you sit up, confused.

with a shaky breath, she pushed her hair behind her ear, an expression that was nothing like her usual confident self. "look," she began hesitantly, her voice strained as she struggled to find the right words. unable to meet your gaze, she continued, "i’m sorry for everything. i've been having these feelings, feelings i-i don't even know how to process about you, but i... just wanted to say that i'm sorry for being such an asshole. it was pathetic."

finally, she looked at you, her lips laced in a pout. her confession took you by surprise, leaving you speechless. it was a side of abby you never saw, apologetic.

“asshole is an understatement.” you finally say, laughing softly, an attempt to alleviate the tension in the air, yet it brought no amusement to the receiver. with a quick gulp to clear your throat, you question, “what kind of feelings?” tilting your head to one side.

abby's mouth forms into a tight smile at your lighthearted comment. "they're romantic feelings," she confessed, taking a step forward. she knew the likelihood of your response, but nonetheless continued. "i wasn't lying when i said 'i love you’… but if you don't—" she let out a shaky exhale, the next words stinging. "I'll understand."

unable to suppress an oncoming smile, you take the sight of the usually tough-as-nails abby anderson, now a softie. taking for a moment before responding with a soft voice that leaves abby confused, "you look pretty like this.”

"what?"

"yeah, you should wear your hair down when we go on a date."

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru

ONESHOT TAGLIST, @st4r-b3rries, @h0pe-scotch, @grey-jedi12, @lucidfairies, @luvmily, @sarahduke, @sc0ttstre3ted, @lonelyfooryouonly, @4pascal, @rew1nds, @viswifetotallyreal, @giuliaexe66, @andersonfilms, @ankle-biter69, @ellieslovr, @wakeupitsdawn, @lavdia17, @donalesaa, @xayn-xd, @brunaedn, @fatamoangana, @drunkonnatasha, @freesmbdy134, @sincerely-forest, @mytwoseater, @starrywilliams, @pinkygirliee

[myerseng]

Enhancing Communication: Understanding the Role of Low Noise Amplifiers

In the realm of modern telecommunications, where clarity and precision are paramount, low noise amplifiers (LNAs) play a crucial yet often understated role. These electronic devices form the bedrock of signal reception, ensuring that weak signals can be boosted without introducing significant additional noise. Their importance spans across various industries, from telecommunications and broadcasting to radar systems and scientific instruments.

Understanding the Basics

At its core, a low noise amplifier is designed to amplify signals from antenna amplifier or other sources with minimal introduction of noise. This is particularly critical in scenarios where signals are weak, such as in satellite communication, deep space exploration, or medical imaging equipment. The primary function of an LNA is to increase the strength of these signals without distorting or degrading the original information they carry.

Applications in Telecommunications

In telecommunications, LNAs are employed extensively in radio frequency (RF) receivers. Mobile phones, for instance, utilize LNAs to amplify incoming signals from base stations or satellites, ensuring clear and reliable communication even in areas with weak signal coverage. Similarly, in satellite communication systems, LNAs are pivotal in capturing faint signals transmitted over vast distances in space.

Advancements in Technology

Advancements in semiconductor technology have significantly enhanced the performance of LNAs over the years. Modern LNAs are capable of operating at higher frequencies while maintaining low noise figures, which is crucial for applications requiring precise signal detection. The integration of gallium arsenide (GaAs) and gallium nitride (GaN) technologies has further pushed the boundaries of LNA efficiency and reliability.

Design Considerations

The design of an LNA involves a delicate balance between gain, noise figure, and power consumption. Engineers meticulously optimize these parameters to meet specific application requirements. Low noise figure is particularly critical as it determines the sensitivity of the receiver—lower noise figures allow for the detection of weaker signals amidst background noise, thereby improving overall system performance.

Challenges and Solutions

One of the perennial challenges in LNA design is achieving high gain without compromising noise performance. This often involves innovative circuit design techniques and the use of specialized materials to minimize internal noise sources. Thermal management is another concern, especially in high-frequency LNAs where heat dissipation can affect both performance and reliability.

Emerging Trends

Looking ahead, the demand for LNAs is expected to grow alongside advancements in wireless communication technologies such as 5G and beyond. These next-generation networks require LNAs capable of handling higher frequencies and supporting increased data throughput while maintaining low power consumption and minimal interference.

Moreover, LNAs are also finding new applications in fields like automotive radar systems, where they enhance the detection capabilities of autonomous vehicles, and in medical imaging devices, where they improve the clarity of diagnostic scans.

Conclusion

In conclusion, low noise amplifiers are indispensable components in modern communication systems, ensuring that signals are received and processed with utmost fidelity. Their evolution—from early vacuum tube designs to today's advanced semiconductor-based solutions—reflects the relentless pursuit of better performance and reliability in telecommunications and beyond.

As technology continues to evolve, the role of LNAs will remain pivotal in enabling seamless connectivity and efficient signal processing across a wide range of applications. Whether facilitating global communication networks or advancing scientific research, LNAs exemplify the intersection of engineering ingenuity and practical utility in the digital age.

[chinasopofiber]

2U 16 ports high power optical amplifier(EDFA) #amplifier #operationala...

[trashytracktales]

Drive me, clutch | LN⁴

𐙚 summary ──── He should be worn out after the night he's had. But Lando is insatiable, and one night is not nearly enough. His need has only been stoked by a few hours of sleep, giving him an endless supply of energy that matches his intensity on the track.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, established relationship, fluff & smutt, bit of praising, swearing & a down bad Lando.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Nov. 1, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I'm new on writerblr can y'all tell :')

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE MORNING LIGHT sneaks in through the curtains, creating a gentle glow and soft shadows all around the room.

He was always a deep sleeper, not easily disturbed by noise or movement. Over time, he conditioned himself to slip into catatonic slumbers, because in his line of work, it's vital to be fully rested. She, on the other hand, has always slept like a bunny, her ears picking up even the subtlest sound, amplified by the quiet of the morning.

With one arm stretched possessively over her waist and his face nestled into the curve of her neck, Lando is wrapping her like a second blanket, his warm breath fanning across her skin in steady, sleep-heavy sighs. His body radiates a deep warmth, a furnace that causes her to shift and almost run out of breath in the cocoon they've created.

It's way too hot.

She moves again, trying to get his arm off her waist while suppressing a quiet giggle when she realizes her attempts are futile — and that she made it all worse because now, Lando pulls her in, resting half of his body weight on her.

“Lan… ” she cries in a sleepy voice, lifting her hand to brush stray curls off his forehead. “Baby, you’re suffocating me,” she tries again, feeling Lando anchoring himself tighter around her waist.

His brows furrow in mild protest while he stirs slightly, as if he can already sense she's trying to get away. However, he gently presses his nose on her skin, muttering something incoherent in a sleepy, low voice. Even in his half-awake state, his thumb is making languid circles over her skin, just to remind himself that she's there, in his arms. There’s a spark in his touch, a warmth that seems to spread like wildfire, and she can feel it.

The girl decides to give it one more try, his name falling from her lips in a loving whisper.

“Mhm… ‘m heavy?” he asks.

She puffs out a chuckle, “A little, but the heat bothers me more.”

Lando lets out a soft chuckle, pushing the blanket off in a swift move, the air in the room immediately feeling cooler against their bare skin.

“Better?” his voice is a gritty, gravelly whisper that feels like sandpaper against her skin after being warmed by him.

The girl gasps in surprise, laughing at the sudden change in temperature, “Lando, we’re fucking naked. Put it back!”

“Oh, now you’re worried?” he asks, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her shoulder.

His eyes finally flutter open, sleepy yet filled with a familiar mischief. A lazy grin spreads across his face as he locks eyes with her, a quiet intensity lingering just beneath the surface. His fingers move along her body in a way that makes her shudder as his hand goes up her side. His gaze never leaves hers, glimmering with a glow of want and danger.

“Of course I am. We all get self-conscious in the daylight,” she admits, reaching for the blanket to put it back over them.

Lando stops her just in time, holding the velvety material out of the way. He leans over her on his forearms, loving how quickly she changed her mind just because she got shy from his intense staring session.

“I wanna see you.”

“No,” she protests, pullig him in, so his chest could cover hers.

“What do you mean no?” he chuckles. “I've had your thighs around my face last night, but now you're getting self-conscious?”

“It doesn't matter. I’m still shy,” she whispers.

The distance between them vanishes in an instant, his fingers running through her hair, while his lips are slightly brushing against hers, meaning to meet in a deep, tender kiss that is infused with the passion and hunger of the night before. But Lando has other plans. On one hand, he wants to kiss all the shyness away, to show her that there is nothing she should worry about, because she'll be beautiful in his eyes no matter what, day and night, and always.

On the other hand, he knows it's his job as a man and as her boyfriend to make her feel comfortable in her own body — a body that he worships with every chance he gets. He loves the constellations on her back, the softness of her legs, and the way she fits perfectly with him.

If he wouldn't know better, he'd say they were made for each other, in every aspect.

Lando watches her as she closes her eyes, knowing she's expecting him to kiss her. Instead, he chooses to study her face, closely, like he's never done it before, taking in every detail, from the tiny mole under her left eye and her rose lips that can do so much damage to him, to the marks he left over her neck and shoulders the night before.

Without thinking twice, he traces his finger over some of the darkened spots, taking in every part of her that he’s made his own — an artist admiring his own work.

“You’re mesmerizing.”

It's the last thing she expects him to say. Usually, he'd call her beautiful or breathtaking, but this time the compliment goes behind the surface. He knows he could look at her for hours, without getting bored. It means that, in the daylight, he is finally able to see something more profound.

She can’t help but let out a sigh in protest, but still smiles in return, “Shut up.”

“And all mine, yes?” he adds, letting his eyes slide down her bare chest, following each line and curve.

She nods, “You know it.”

It’s making him crazy — the way her body lays out under him, and the way he can clearly see the result of his need, desire and hunger on her skin. He’s speechless for a while, his mind filled with one lonely thought: her.

Her eyes snap open the moment she feels his hand gently squeezing one of her breasts, caressing her nipple with his thumb.

“Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks softly, pressing a finger into one of the hickeys that ended up looking like a little, weirdly shaped heart.

Her soft wince takes them both by surprise, a sudden wave of guilt washing over Lando at the thought that he could hurt her unintentionally.

“I’m fine,” the girl tries to assure him, but he frowns, already beating himself up for losing control like that.

He can't help it, though.

“I’m so sorry, I—”

“Don't,” she cuts him off, “You didn’t hurt me, I promise. Plus, I got you good, too,” she says, running the pads of her fingers over the crimson fingernail marks left on his shoulders.

He can hear the sweetness in her voice, all the guilt melting away in an instant. From there, Lando moves with an intensity and skill that is all too familiar — as if he were on the track, determined to put together the perfect lap.

He presses his lips on her silky skin, desperately wanting to soothe her. To continue to worship her. To thank her for existing and choosing him to share herself with.

“If it hurts later...” Lando begins, raising his head to look at his girlfriend.

Her hand glides up to cup his chin in her palm, “It'll be a reminder of how good you make me feel every single time,” she finishes his sentence, finally pulling him in for a kiss.

At the sound of her words, a low moan slips from his throat into her mouth, the simple affirmation enough to make Lando lose it. Her hands land on his shoulders, pulling him as close to her as possible. The eagerness is making him so desperate, wanting to feel the connection in every vital point of his body.

She wraps her legs around his waist, while Lando's hand travels up to hold the side of her neck, his tongue delving into her mouth into a messy kiss. Another moan escapes through her lips this time, the second she feels his hand slightly squeezing her.

As he deepens the kiss with a smile on his lips, she tries to speak, hardly able to form more words, her voice vanishing into a gentle moan.

This time, the race is different, and he is not in a haste to finish, enjoying every turn with an air of confidence that is unmistakably Lando. He seems to be able to read her so easily, even when she goes non-verbal, because it feels so good to have him on top.

With every touch and every inch of him, they fall into harmony. With each heartbeat and kiss, the low hum of energy between them intensifies until the world beyond their entwined bodies disappears into a fuzzy, faraway blur.

It's just them and the need to crawl under each other's skin.

His palm moves to cradle her face as he brings her closer, causing her to catch her breath and quiver. Her senses are sharpened, each gentle touch and soft sound more vivid than the previous, and she feels herself immersing herself in the present. In him. Entirely.

Lando feels her body arching up against his, a reflex reaction when he puts a little pressure between her legs. His tongue pushes deeper into her mouth, his hips rolling against hers, a low moan coming from the back of his throat.

“Your mouth…,” she exhales breathlessly, raising her hips to meet his halfway.

As a result of countless nights spent together, Lando gets the memo without her needing to elaborate. He became a pro at reading her body language like it's an open book, which makes him smirk, so proud he manages to understand her needs from a simple movement.

His lips are traveling south, leaving goosebumps in their wake. When she feels his hot breath hoovering above her thighs, her fingers find home in his hair, guiding Lando where she needs him most. His mind goes blank as soon as he feels her warmth, the taste of her flooding his senses.

He buries his face further, his tongue lapping at her intently, wanting to feel more of her. Much, much more. One of his hands moves down to her hips, anchoring them to the bed as he smiles at the sound of her soft whining — his favorite melody.

As soon as she starts to wiggle under his touch, his tongue begins circling, delving deeper than before. Her taste drives him wild while his mouth is making little wet noises against her.

“So sweet and warm f'me, aren't you?” he asks rhetorically, bringing his free hand between her thighs. “Fucking hell,” he lets out a breathy exhale, his thumb moving to rub against her clit, while two of his fingers push slowly inside.

She uses a hand to grip the sheets just as Lando pulls back a little, keeping his fingers thrusting in and out at an increasing pace that make her toes curl.

“Baby…,” she sucks in a breath, feeling the pressure building slowly, but surely.

“I know, baby,” he whispers, rolling back on top of her to muffle her moans with a furtive kiss. “You're so pretty, you know that? So pretty, taking my fingers so well.”

“Lando, please,” she whines, moving her hips in unison with his hand, trying to catch the wave that she's been chasing ever since she felt his tongue on her pussy.

Lando bites his lower lip in an attempt to hide his smile; he loves to see her losing herself like that only from his fingers.

“Mhm, you take what you need, yeah? Fuck my fingers, that's it.”

She arches against his hand harder, bringing her arms around Lando's neck for more stability. He lets his forehead drop on hers, their breaths blending together while she pants at his encouragements. Their lips come in contact once more, as Lando slows her down with the other hand on her hip, gripping her tightly to gently pull out his fingers.

The sudden emptiness forces her to let a cry out, her pussy clenching down hard on nothing.

“Don't piss me off,” she warns, wrapping her fingers around his neck, bringing his mouth to hers with the aggression of a needy woman that knows what she wants.

The kiss hits like a turbocharger at peak RPM, fast and powerful, leaving them breathless in its wake, their minds spinning wildly like they are racing against time.

“Need to be inside you,” he chuckles ar her eagerness, pumping himself in his hand a few times before rubbing the head of his cock over her needy core to spread the wetness.

The feeling leaves her almost breathless, her thighs wanting to press together instinctively, until Lando stops them with a firm grip.

He lets out a noisy moan into her neck, her body making him feel like he's sinking, the feeling of her walls squeezing him bringing up all the memories from last night. Lando buries his face in her chest, trying to steady himself, but it's a losing game.

He's already a goner.

“How are you always this tight around me, baby, fuck,” he pants, breathing wetly against her skin.

Every cell in her body feels like it's on fire, his words far from being registered in her head. Instead, she spreads her legs wider, making more room for him to fill her up completely, inch by inch.

“Shit, it feels so good. You feel so good, please,” she continues begging, because there's nothing else she can do. Except raising her hips to push back against his thrusts as he finally starts moving.

The sound of skin on skin reverberates around the quiet room, peppered with occasional whimpers and Lando's low moans. It's almost too much, but that doesn't stop her from meeting her boyfriend halfway. Quite the opposite. She's aware she's ruining the sheets with how wet she is, her pussy dripping with both their juices. But seeing the look on his face while he drives her it's enough to simply not care about the mess they're making.

“Fuck, that's it, baby. Like that,” he moans, gripping her thighs, partially to hit her with hard, long strokes, that he knows it drives her wild. But mostly because he needs something to hold on to.

Soon enough, Lando's breath starts coming out in quick, hot pants, his free hand clutching at the sheets by her head. His body is on fire, being able to feel her raw and see her face change with pleasure every time he hits her sweet spot. His eyes squeeze shut, the build-up almost too much for him to not lose it.

“Fuck, baby, you're killing me. Squeezing me so tight, I'm not. Gonna. Last,” he admits, accentuating the words with each hard thrust.

“Don't hold back, please. Please, don't stop…,” her words fade at the intensity of the warm knot that forms in her stomach, her legs tightening more around him.

“Yeah? You want to come, baby?” he asks, fucking his cock deeply into her, making her squeeze her eyes shut at the feeling, while her nails are slowly digging into his back.

She doesn't have time to feel bad for causing new scratches on top of his old ones as pleasure meets pain at its sweetest level. He's not bothered in the slightest, too preocupied to enjoy her, his focus on how every inch of his length gets hugged by her walls so tightly.

“I'm… Oh, yes! Fuck. I'm so close,” she moans, her mind going numb, letting her breath out in short spasms.

He hears the desperation in her voice, which makes him picking up the pace, bringing his hand between their bodies so he could rub her clit in a ferm, circular motion.

With that, it's enough for her to let out a string of moans as she comes hard around his cock. Her mind wanders through spaces filled with pure pleasure, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

The sight of her drives him crazy, determined to reach his release while she still has that satisfied look on her face. Lando starts fucking her harder, pressing their bodies roughly into the mattress as he mumbles filthy words in her ear, that she's too dizzy to decipher.

“So fucking pretty when you come, my baby.”

His baby.

“Yours,” she agrees, her mouth parting slightly at the feeling of his hands roaming everywhere on her body.

She knows he's close, judging by the sloppy thrusts he's struggling to keep under control. But control is overrated, anyway. And it only takes a couple more until hot shots are spilling deep inside, filling her up.

“Fucking hell,” Lando exhales, collapsing on top of her, his cock throbbing against her walls, too sensitive to pull out right away.

She wraps her arms around her boyfriend, kissing his forehead, his cheek, and shoulder, their heavy breaths echoing throughout the bedroom.

He swallows hard, completely spent, running his arm up and down her side, while her hand ends up in his hair, pushing his curls out of the way so she could look at him.

“Should we go get coffee?” she asks matter-of-factly, her genuinely curious tone making Lando laugh.

“After I take you from behind?”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[lyl2kvinn]

Ultra low noise amplifier, rf amplifier, Microwave low noise amplifiers, op amps

Dual Channel 30 V 6 mV Surface Mount Low Noise Amplifier - SOP-8

[jaylalolz]

⌗ ┆𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑 . . . nicholas chavez

★┊[ fem!reader x nicholas.c ] .ᐟ

SUMMARY, after spotting a stranger staring at her across the club, things swiftly escalated when he brought her in for a dance.

A/N, i lwk hate this but it’s wtv😔 didn’t proof read so lmk if there’s any mistakes AND ik it’s long i’m srry💔

WARNINGS, smuttyyyy

The music in the bar throbbed with a steady pulse, the bass vibrating through the floor. Bodies moved rhythmically under dim neon lights, and the scent of alcohol mixed with the sharp tang of spilled beer. She sat alone at the edge of the bar, fingers tracing the rim of her half-empty glass, feeling a little abandoned. Her friend, who had been so excited for a girls’ night out, had ditched her to hit the dance floor the moment her favorite song came on. Typical.

Her gaze drifted over the crowd, idly watching as people swayed and laughed. She sighed, the sense of isolation creeping in as the noise of the bar seemed to amplify her loneliness. Just as she was about to check her phone for a distraction, she felt a prickling sensation, the kind that told her someone was staring at her.

She looked up, scanning the room, and her eyes locked with his.

He was leaning casually against the far wall, partly obscured by shadows. His features were sharp, confident, framed by messy dark hair that suited him far too well. The man was tall, his broad shoulders relaxed in a leather jacket that looked worn in all the right places. His eyes, though, were what held her captive. Intense, unwavering, like he was studying her. She shifted in her seat, feeling an unexpected warmth rise in her cheeks. Why wasn’t he looking away?

She considered breaking the eye contact, but something kept her gaze locked on his. There was something magnetic about the way he watched her. Not in a creepy, predatory way, but with an intensity that made her feel like the only person in the room.

The bartender interrupted her thoughts, sliding a fresh drink in front of her with a practiced ease.

“I didn’t order this,” she said, puzzled.

The bartender leaned in slightly, his voice low enough to be heard over the music. “The guy in the corner paid for it,” he said, gesturing subtly in the direction of the mysterious stranger.

Her heart skipped a beat. She glanced back toward him, and sure enough, the guy was still looking at her. He lifted his drink slightly, a silent toast in her direction, before taking a slow sip. She hesitated for a moment, unsure what to make of it all, but she wasn’t the type to shy away from something that intrigued her.

“Thanks,” she muttered to the bartender, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a cautious sip. It was good. Better than what she’d been drinking before. She stood up, smoothing her dress and trying to calm the flutter of nerves that had sprung to life in her stomach.

She walked across the room toward him, weaving through the throngs of people until she stood just a few feet away. Up close, he was even more striking, his chiseled features more defined in the low light. He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said, tilting her glass toward him. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugged, his voice deep and smooth. “I wanted to. You looked like you could use something better than whatever it was you were drinking.” She laughed softly, relaxing a little. “Was it that obvious?”

He smirked, his gaze never leaving hers. “Just a guess. I also figured you could use some company. Your friend seems… occupied.”

She glanced over at the dance floor where her friend was still lost in the music, completely unaware of the world outside her rhythm. “Yeah, she does that.”

He extended a hand toward an empty chair beside him. “Mind if I join you for a bit?”

She hesitated for only a second before sitting down, feeling the tension in her shoulders ease as they fell into a comfortable conversation. His presence was easy, his humor dry but charming, and before long, she found herself forgetting she had ever felt alone at all.

As they talked, she found herself losing track of time, drawn into the smooth flow of his words and the way his voice rumbled low in his chest. He was sharp, witty, but not in a showy way—more like he spoke with quiet confidence, leaving space for her to fill the conversation. Every now and then, his gaze would flicker down to her lips before meeting her eyes again, and it sent a little thrill through her that she couldn’t quite explain.

At some point, there was a pause in the conversation. He looked at her for a moment, his expression softening.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and sincere, “you’ve got this way about you. It’s hard to put into words, but… you stand out. Even in a place like this.”

Her breath hitched a little at the compliment, unexpected in its simplicity yet so direct. She wasn’t used to being noticed in that way, especially in a crowded bar. “Is that your way of saying I look out of place?” she teased, though her voice was quieter than she intended.

He shook his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Not at all. I mean… yeah, you’re different. But in a good way.” His eyes flickered over her, not in a way that felt disrespectful, but appreciative. “You look incredible, and the way you carry yourself… it’s hard not to notice.”

Heat crept into her cheeks again, and she quickly looked down at her drink, swirling it around to avoid holding his gaze too long. “You’re smooth, you know that?” she said, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

“I try,” he replied with a laugh, leaning back a little, his confidence as effortless as ever. “But only when the moment calls for it.”

Before she could think of a reply, he stood up, offering his hand to her. His eyes met hers, playful yet serious all at once. “What do you say we ditch sitting here for a bit? I’ve been wanting to ask you to dance since I saw you across the room.”

She hesitated for a split second, glancing at the crowded dance floor where her friend was still somewhere in the mix of people. Then, she looked back at him, the way he stood there with his hand extended, waiting patiently, his smile just a little crooked but completely genuine.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she admitted, though the idea of being close to him made her heart race in a way that had nothing to do with her lack of dancing skills.

He shrugged, his smile widening. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, it’s not about being a great dancer—it’s just about having fun.”

The words were enough to make her decision. She slipped her hand into his, feeling the warmth of his touch, and let him lead her toward the dance floor.

The music grew louder as they moved onto the dance floor, the bass pulsing through the crowd. Bodies swayed in sync with the rhythm, and the neon lights cast a soft glow over everything, creating a sense of intimacy despite the chaotic energy of the bar.

He turned to face her, his hand still holding hers, and with a small, easy smile, he pulled her gently into the beat.

At first, their movements were cautious, testing the waters of the moment. She could feel the warmth of his body close to hers as they danced, their steps naturally syncing with the slow, sensual rhythm of the music.

Then, with a confidence that made her stomach flip, he slipped his hands to her waist, his touch firm but not too much.

His fingertips pressed gently against her hips, guiding her movements in time with the beat. She felt the heat of him through her dress, the steady pressure of his hands making it impossible to ignore the way their bodies were starting to move together.

She inhaled sharply, her breath catching as she glanced up at him. His eyes were on hers, dark and focused, but there was a softness there, a silent communication that made the crowded room feel like it was just the two of them.

His grip tightened slightly as their bodies moved closer. Her hands instinctively found their way to his shoulders, steadying herself as they fell deeper into the rhythm. Their bodies pressed together, the space between them disappearing with each beat of the music. He was taller, broader, and as they swayed, she could feel the heat radiating off him, making her heart race.

The closeness felt dangerous in the best way possible—intoxicating, the same way the lights and the liquor had blurred her senses. She let him pull her in tighter, her body fitting against his like it was inevitable.

The song built, the beat dropping harder, and they moved together, the space between them disappearing. His touch was enough, his breath warm against her neck as he leaned in, whispering something she couldn’t make out over the music. It didn’t matter. She just let herself sink into the moment, her mind too fuzzy to question it.

Her heart was racing now, faster than the music, faster than the flashing lights around them. She turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of him—a sharp jawline, dark eyes that glinted in the low light, lips parted as though he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. He just moved with her, like he had been waiting all night for this moment too.

The room around them felt like it was disappearing, the other dancers fading into the background, the colors swirling around them like they were in their own world. Everything was heightened—the heat of his body, the slick sheen of sweat on her skin, the heavy pulse of the music vibrating through them both.

She tilted her head slightly, catching his gaze again, and the intensity there made her breath hitch. He leaned down, just a little, so his lips were close to her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"You're a better dancer than you think" he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music but still sending a shiver down her spine.

She smiled, biting her bottom lip as her fingers unconsciously curled into the fabric of his jacket. "Maybe I just needed the right partner."

He leaned down, his breath warm and sweet with liquor, barely brushing her ear as he spoke over the music. “Come with me,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the noise like it was meant only for her.

Her pulse quickened, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head up slightly, letting the question hang between them as she studied him—his sharp features softened by the dim, swirling lights, the shadow of a five o’clock stubble catching the glow of the neon. There was a pull there, something magnetic, reckless.

“To the bathroom,” he added, his voice just above a whisper now, as though the words were something illicit, dangerous. His fingers brushed against hers as he said it, not pushing, just offering.

The suggestion was bold, maybe too bold, but it was like the music, the lights, and the drinks had made the room feel less real. Everything was slowed down but intense, like the rest of the world didn’t matter, like there were no consequences.

Her eyes flicked to the back of the club, where the hallway to the bathrooms stretched in dim, shadowy light. A rush of heat surged through her chest. She was buzzed, lightheaded from the alcohol, and she could still feel the lingering heat from where his hands had been, the press of his body on hers. Part of her knew what this was, the kind of night it could become. The other part of her… didn’t care. Not right now.

She raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, teasing the space between them. “Why?” she asked, her voice smooth but playful, challenging him.

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and for a second, there was something dark and electric in the way he smiled. “Because you want to,” he said simply, his fingers sliding over her wrist, thumb tracing her pulse.

The world felt hazy, but his words rang clear, cutting through the fog of music and alcohol. He was right. She could feel it in the way her skin buzzed, in the wild, impulsive energy that had been building all night.

The bass dropped again, the lights flickering in rhythm, casting them both in a wash of blue and red. She looked over at the hallway, then back at him. Her heart pounded, the music matching its beat.

He didn’t wait for her to respond, not with words anyway. His hand slid down from her wrist, fingers curling lightly around hers, and he tugged her toward the back of the club. It wasn’t forceful—just enough to make her follow, the thrill of it buzzing through her veins as they wove through the crowd. People were everywhere—sweaty, laughing, lost in the music—but they moved around them like ghosts, fading into the background.

The hallway stretched out in front of them, narrow and dimly lit. The bass from the club still pounded through the walls, muffled but insistent, like it was never going to let her go. The door to the bathroom was ahead, half-open, flickering neon lights spilling out from under the frame.

When they reached the door, he pushed it open and stepped aside to let her in first. She hesitated for a split second, her breath catching in her throat, but something about the way he stood there, waiting, watching her with those dark eyes—it pulled her in.

The moment she stepped inside, the world changed. The lights overhead were a deep, glowing red, casting everything in a heavy, almost suffocating warmth. It felt like walking into another dimension, the kind where reality was left behind, and only this moment, this feeling, mattered. The air smelled faintly of something sweet and metallic, the scent mixing with the distant echoes of music from the club.

The first thing she noticed was the mirror—massive, dominating the center of the room. It stretched from one side of the wall to the other, reflecting the blood-red lights in strange, almost surreal angles. In front of the mirror, a long, sleek sink stretched out, polished and pristine, the dark surface reflecting the glowing lights above.

He stepped in behind her, closing the door softly with a click that seemed too loud for the heavy silence of the room. She caught his reflection in the mirror, his eyes locked on her as he moved closer, his body heat seeping into her skin as he came up behind her again. The red light turned his face into something dangerous, casting shadows under his jaw, across his sharp cheekbones.

Her hands found the edge of the sink, fingers curling around it, steadying herself as her reflection stared back at her, bathed in red. The lights made her skin glow in a way that felt almost unreal, and in the reflection, she could see him too, standing just behind her, watching her through the mirror like a predator sizing up its prey.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against her ear, the space between them shrinking until there was none left. His fingers brushed her waist, slow and deliberate, like he was still waiting for her to make the next move. For a moment, the world narrowed down to the feeling of his touch, the throb of the music still pounding faintly through the walls, the glow of the red light bathing them both.

In the mirror, his eyes met hers, dark and intense, filled with a challenge. Neither of them spoke, but the air between them was thick, heavy with the things they weren’t saying. She could feel her pulse in her throat, the tension wrapping around her chest like a coil.

He leaned in even closer, his lips barely grazing her ear as he whispered, “Would you let me do whatever I wanted to you?”

The question lingered in the thick, crimson haze of the room, daring her to answer, to make the next move in a game neither of them wanted to stop playing.

“Yes” she let out.

He caresses her breasts as he runs his hand up her body through her clothes. She could feel a deeply knotted tension finally dissolve just from the contact.

He gave her lower lip a quick swipe with his thumb before forcefully putting two fingers in her mouth. "Suck," he commanded. She ran her tongue over him, taking in his middle and index fingers. Shutting her eyes, she imagined it was an another aspect of him that she would not object to have in her lips.

He plunged his fingers deeper into the back of her throat, suddenly. She lurched forward, saliva pooling in her mouth as she instantly and uncontrollably gagged at the intrusion. He pulled his fingers away so she could see the mess she'd made.

She let out a squeal and as he gave her a slap her ass. "Be quiet." She felt his hand touch her behind once more, but this time he rubbed and caressed it. He felt himself close his eyes for a moment, taking in her lovely, feminine groans. He enjoyed them. For later that night, he knew, those same moans would become screams.

He unzipped her dress carefully till it stopped at the hilt. He removed the sleeves and allowed the flowing fabric to fall to the ground. Then he undid the clasp on her black lace bra and pulled it off her sleek arms, letting it drop to the ground.

Her skin was smooth and immaculate, her curves soft and glistening in the warm light; she was the ideal blank canvas for what he had imagined. His touch sent shivers down her spine as he brushed along her panties. "Bend over and take them off - slowly." She wobbled her hands and hooked her thumbs along the lace fabric. She leaned in and exposed herself to him, exactly as he desired. With all the sensuality she possessed, she carefully pulled them down. As she was doing that, he began removing his belt and pants.

He took hold of her wrists, pinning them to her back. Then he thrusted from behind inside her. Her initial reaction was to lunge upward, but he prevented that from happening. He pinned her wrists to her back with one hand, then used the other to tug her hair, turning her head so she could face the mirror. He put all of his weight on her figure. He gripped her wrists tighter against her back as she moaned louder. She was unable to move or scream. She could just take it.

He was very aggressive. With strength and raw force, every thrust and stroke forced its way inside of her. She sensed waves of pleasure rising deeper and deeper within her as her walls were more tightly closed. Feeling her limbs start to shake, he continued to press her down with enough force to leave bruises.

That only made him apply more pressure to her fragile frame. He reached through her dark hair and tugged at her scalp. He continued at his unrelenting pace without pausing.

He sensed her body starting to weaken. Her respiration was shallow to nonexistent, and her legs were trembling. She banged her hands on the counter in front of the sink as he removed her wrists from her back. Then he slowed down, achingly pulling in and out of her.

"Beg me to fuck you harder." she was incoherent, recovering from her sustained lack of air. "Please... more..."

"Not good enough," he demanded

"Please fuck me harder- please."

At last, he approached her from a new angle and pressed his cock deep into her. With a loud gasp, she held onto the corners of the counter until her knuckles turned white. The thrust was so deep that it burned with a hint of sweet agony.

He repeatedly struck the same area till her face were covered in tears. "Scream louder, angel."

He didn't need to remind her twice as she completely let herself come undone. Her sweet cries of pleasuring and pleasure were mixed with hard thrusts.

"Come for me. Let go."

She lost all feeling and nerves in her body. Once more, he had bound her wrists to her back without flinching. They stayed there, deep and cruel to her broken body. She sobbed until she lost consciousness. She completely fell apart giving way to an overpowering wave of pleasure.

Syncing with her, he matched her movements and again pressed into her tight walls. Once they had shared an intense climax, his deep groans blended with her gentle cries as they both became conscious.

The silence in the bathroom, thick and pulsing with tension, was broken by a sudden, sharp knock on the door. It echoed through the small space, cutting through the haze of red light, the vibration of it jarring. For a second, they both froze, eyes meeting in the mirror, the moment suspended between them.

Another knock, louder this time, impatient. “Yo, hurry up in there!” a voice called from the other side, muffled but clear enough to bring the real world crashing back in.

He straightened up slightly, still close but no longer pressing into her, his fingers loosening their hold on her waist. The spell wasn’t completely broken, but the urgency from outside the door was creeping into the room. She blinked, her eyes shifting away from his reflection, the heat still lingering between them, but now laced with the reality.

[treasuringizu]

“Gimme a kiss,” Atsumu murmurs, deep voice low in your ear. His hands are on your hips, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. 

You pull him away from you, hands cupping his face and thumb running along his cheek in the way you know he likes. You raise an eyebrow, smiling softly, “I’m wearing lipstick, you know.” This causes his eyes to drop to your lips, gaze hungry, suddenly reminded of the fact. 

“So?” he asks, eyes flicking from yours and back to your lips. “Let everyone know I belong ta ya.” 

“You’re going to walk around with my lips printed on your face?” 

He nods eagerly, ducking to bury his face in your neck. “I’d be the happiest man alive if I got ta walk around like that.” 

This makes you laugh, your heart melt, and you reposition your arms around his shoulders to squeeze him closer to you. “You’re going to be late for practice, ‘Tsumu.”

“Just one kiss, baby. Even if it's on the cheek.” 

You sigh, but you know that he knows you’re only faking your reluctance. “Kay.” 

He pulls away from you, giving you his right cheek, and tapping his pointer finger against it with a giddy smile. You make sure to dramatize your actions, making an amplified noise when pulling away, laughing when he gives you his other cheek, and repeating your actions until he finally lowers his mouth to yours. 

He makes sure to deepen the kiss and only chases after you when you pull away, giving you little pecks and placing kisses all around your face, playfully biting your nose when it scrunches in fake disdain. When he finally separates from you, you take notice of the bright red lip marks on his cheeks, and the red tint left on his lips that are stretched into a grin. 

“How do I look?” 

“Like you are definitely mine.” 

His smile widens. “Great. ‘Xactly what I was goin’ for.” 

[evilgwrl]

for educational purposes *cough cough* maybe you could show us an example of price's kinks demonstrated? idkkkk, like a fic displaying public play, with toys and praise...? for educational purposes ofc

this is one of my fave requests ever… hehe

Summary: Restaurant fun with Price involves dining out… and vibrators

CW: Public play with sex toys, praise, orgasms

Your thighs clamped together inside the restaurant, skin sticky with sweat and the evident arousal that leaked from your messy cunt. Your eyebrows darted together in a scrunched pose, wrinkles coiling into your forehead as you gripped the cutlery in the palm of your hands.

“Y’ alright, sweetheart?” John cooed, sick smile coaxing his features as he lapped in your evident frustration.

“T-Too much,” you squeaked, your voice barely loud enough for him to register what you were saying, but the desperation that leaked from you told him all he needed to know.

His fingers clicked against his phone screen, and for a moment you thought you were going to be put out of your misery, before you felt the vibrations against your clit grow even stronger, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as your fork clattered against the china plate.

It was all too much, your panties slick against your heat as you bit your lipstick-stained skin, nibbling the tender flesh between your teeth as you held in any noise.

“Look at the fucking sight of you, hm? Such a beautiful girl.”

“J-John, I can’t,” you whimpered, holding your thighs closer together as you jolted in the chair, your cleavage amplified as you attempted to compose yourself, nipples in stiff peaks under the silken material of your dress.

“You can handle it sweetheart, it’s nearly at 100%. You’re so close aren’t you? You gonna make a mess for me in public?”

You nodded, your head fuzzy with pleasure clouding your vision as you dug your nails into the fat of your thighs, tender flesh wounded with small marks as John turned the power of the vibrator up.

Your legs convulsed as you choked on the air, staring at him with anguished eyes and bitten lips, teeth lightly stained with your makeup. You spat out an expletive as dark blue eyes watched you, taking in every twitch, every soft flutter of your lashes.

The restaurant was lively, couples of all ages situated around you, sharing different stories and lives over an expensive bottle of wine. You were sure it was obvious what was happening to you, but in a sick way, it got you off even more. And it sure as hell got John off, large print of his cock strained against the fabric of his pants, tip leaking a fat pearl of precum.

“Good girl, taking it so well. I could just fuck you right here.” His tone was sultry, laced with want as he stared at you through hooded eyes, his voice a low pitch.

You could barely respond, the vibrations against your puffed clit convulsing ripples of pleasure through every vein, every tendon, every muscle of your body.

“Take your panties off and give them to me,” he demanded, reaching out to grab at your hand across the table, stroking it with faux affection as your eyes widened.

“H-Here? What if someone sees?”

Price smiled, a sickly cloud glazing over his eyes as he nodded. You hesitated, looking around the room before lifting your hips slightly, frustrated fingers hooking the soaked panties down the plush of your thighs, over your knees, and past your ankles as you lifted them from your shoes as discreetly as possible, slipping them into his course palms.

A satisfied grin found a way to his face as he praised you with a simple, “that’s my good girl”.

Somehow, the lack of panties only added to the immense pleasure as your hips rutted against the chair, your slick most likely pooling at the plush underneath your behind.

A string of expletives seeped through your tongue as you gripped onto John’s hands, your panties now tucked away in his breast pocket as he watched you with a sharp expression, eyes lapping over ever inch of you.

You could feel the coil building, the pressure tensing in your stomach as you gripped a napkin, shoving it between your lips. Cerulean eyes glared into yours before your own fluttered shut, the pleasure expanding in your belly snapping, a rough whine settling between the cotton shoved in your mouth.

Your clit convulsed against the vibrations of the silicone toy, breasts shaking as you muffled sweet noises, begging John to slow the pace as the strength of your orgasm washed over you, the nectar the Captain loved gushing from your aching cunt as he brought a palm to your cheek, rubbing affectionately.

“You did so well, honey. Let’s get you home so I can reward you.”

[milkteabinniechan]

want so bad - Minho ♡

membership // m.list

pairing: idol! Minho x gn! reader

warnings: angst, mentions of depression, poor self care, struggling mental health (minho just wants to take care of you :'))

Have you eaten?

The question rang through your ears in a low hum. You could hear the words but they were so far away. You pulled yourself further under the covers. The heavy blankets consumed your body and weighed you down into an immovable mass. You wouldn't be going anywhere today. Monday had faded into Wednesday, then Thursday into Saturday.

Have you had any water?

By now you couldn’t tell if the words were your own brain or some guardian angel flying down from Heaven every few days to remind you to breathe, to eat, to bathe. Some days were harder than others. Most of the time you could get up and join society as if it weren't a chore, weren’t a burden. But lately, life has been a deep chasm of an inky black sludge that was pulling you inside its horridly ragged mouth. You wanted to fight, to pull yourself out of this monster’s ragged jaws, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to fight alone.

"I’m home!” A voice chimed from the front door. Minho, home from his most recent tour.

This tour had lasted longer than the others. He had called you every night like clockwork, sharing every experience he had while he was away. There was always a longing tinge in his tone like he truly missed you. That always made your heart feel warm. You hadn’t shared the location of your recent residency, your bed. You never told him about the inky black sludge that was slowly creeping its way up your legs, pulling and scrapping at the last bits of strength you had. Instead, you told him things were fine, that you were fine. You gave vague details about your day and your daily diet.

But the word fine had become stuck in your throat every time you spoke it, sticking and clinging onto your vocal cords. Sometimes you could literally feel it hanging on, choking you. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

“Are you here?” Minho set his keys down and made his way to the kitchen, then the living room. His last stop, the bedroom, is where he found you. You poked your head out from under the covers, just your nose and tired eyes, breathing out a quiet hi.

Minho’s face softened as his eyes fixed on yours. He hummed quietly and made his way over to you. He sat down on the side of the bed and ran his hand over your face. For a long while, he didn’t say anything. He just stroked your hair, then your cheeks. He sat with you on that soft bed, in that dark room. You closed your eyes and focused on his hands, his fingers, the smell of his clothes. Finally, Minho asked, “Have you eaten?”

You shook your head, knowing better than to lie to Minho about eating. He truly enjoyed feeding those he cared about. He stood up from the bed, silent again, and made his way to the kitchen. You sat up slowly and leaned forward, trying to see him from the bedroom. You only caught glimpses of him moving around the kitchen. He bent down to grab a large pan, then opened the fridge to grab something else.

Soon, you could hear chopping noises and a low sizzle coming from the aforementioned pan. The sizzling grew louder as the ingredients Minho was chopping fell into the pan. Close behind, an intoxicating aroma of spices filled the entire apartment. A sweet and spicy fragrance wisped past your nose and seductively pulled at your senses, willing you to get out of bed. You closed your eyes and listened as the sizzling from the pan continued to grow in volume, taking with it the smells and scents, amplifying everything in the house.

Minho returned to the bedroom with a big, steaming bowl in his hands. Bibimbap. Your favorite dish. The first dish he had ever made you when the two of you moved in together. You breathed in the warm steam as it lit up your senses yet again.

“Open your mouth, kitten.” Minho gave you a stern, loving look as he brought a spoon up to your face.

You opened your mouth and let Minho feed you, literally feed you. The combination of rice and sauteed vegetables danced on your tongue. The heat from the gochujang sauce warmed your throat and wrapped you in a warm blanket. Minho stayed next to you until you finished the entire bowl. He meticulously watched you bite, chew, and swallow every last spoonful. When you were finished, you rubbed your full belly, a ritual between the two of you as if to say so good, so full.

You let your head fall onto Minho’s shoulder. He instinctively rested his head on top of yours, sighing deeply at the feeling of your skin against him. You sat in silence again, neither of you feeling the need to say anything, at least not right now. Right now would just be about this moment, about Minho feeding you, loving you, right when you needed it. And for an instant, the inky black sludge didn’t pull, it didn’t tug. For a minute or two, it felt as if Minho was battling the monster for you. You didn’t have to fight alone. Maybe you never did. Maybe, Minho was the hand strong enough to pull you out of the sludge and back into the light. 

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows

[fleming-o]

Under the weather - Mapi Leon X Ingrid Engen X ADHDteen

sick fic beacsue im sick and bored

4k words

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The moment you opened your eyes, you knew something wasn’t right. Your head felt heavy, like it was being pressed into the pillow, and your throat burned with each shallow breath. Your body was achy, muscles sore and tight, even though you hadn’t pushed yourself too hard at training the day before. The cold sweat clinging to your skin was enough of a sign—you were sick. But you couldn’t miss training, not today. You couldn’t afford to fall behind again.

Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, hoping that maybe after a few minutes, you’d feel better. But the pounding in your head didn’t ease. The sharp sting in your throat only worsened. You closed your eyes, breathing in slowly, telling yourself it was just a little cold and nothing more.

You dragged yourself out of bed, feeling every inch of the effort it took. Your legs felt heavy, and your arms weak, but you ignored it. Training was important, and you couldn’t let Mapi or Ingrid worry about you. They had enough to deal with, and you’d already struggled to keep up at practice for the past week.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you barely recognized your own reflection. Your face looked pale, and your eyes were dull, rimmed with dark circles. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wake you up, but instead, it only made the pounding in your head worse. You leaned over the sink, gripping the edges as dizziness hit you hard.

“I’ll be fine. Just get through the day,” you muttered to yourself, trying to believe it.

You forced yourself to get dressed, tugging on your training kit and pulling your hair back. The routine felt heavier than usual, like each movement was in slow motion. The cold air outside hit you the moment you stepped out the door, making you shiver violently. Every noise—birds chirping, cars passing, people talking—seemed to hit your ears all at once, amplifying the pounding in your head. It was overwhelming.

As you made your way to the training ground, each step felt like dragging lead weights, but you tried to focus. Maybe once you started moving, it would get easier. Maybe the adrenaline from the drills would push the sickness away. But deep down, you knew better.

The walk seemed longer than usual, and by the time you reached the field, you were already out of breath. You spotted Mapi and Ingrid chatting near the bench, and the sight of them gave you a small wave of comfort. But even that quickly faded as you forced a smile and waved weakly. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with concern, but you shrugged it off, pretending you were fine.

Warm-ups began, and right away, you knew something was off. Your legs felt like they were stuck in cement, each stretch making your muscles ache even more. The usual burst of energy never came. Every move felt like a battle, and the noise around you—the sound of cleats on the turf, the chatter of your teammates, the whistle blowing—seemed too loud, too much. It all blurred together, making your head spin.

You pushed through the first few drills, biting your lip to keep from wincing. But your body was betraying you. Every time you sprinted, your vision blurred for a second. Every whistle blew felt like a shockwave through your skull. Your hands shook slightly as you tried to catch your breath, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

Ingrid was the first to notice. She had a way of sensing when things weren’t right with you, even if you tried to hide it. She jogged over, her eyes narrowing as she looked you over.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice low, but full of concern.

You nodded, swallowing hard against the dryness in your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice scratchy. “Just... tired.”

But you could see the doubt in her eyes. Ingrid wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she stayed close, watching as you struggled through the next set of drills.

It wasn’t long before Mapi caught on too. She noticed how you were lagging behind, your usually sharp footwork slow and unsteady. You could feel her eyes on you, and it only made you more anxious. The overwhelming noise of the field mixed with the pressure building inside you—it was too much. The world felt like it was closing in, the sounds and lights blurring together.

Finally, during a sprint, your legs gave out. You stumbled, barely catching yourself before hitting the ground. That was enough for Mapi. She marched over, her expression stern, but there was concern in her eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You looked away, guilt gnawing at your insides. “I’m fine. Just a little... off.”

Ingrid wasn’t having it either. She stepped closer, placing a hand on your forehead before you could protest. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt the heat radiating from your skin.

“You’re burning up,” she said, her voice filled with worry. “You’re sick.”

Mapi’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to miss training,” you muttered, feeling your throat tighten. The thought of falling behind, of being a burden—it weighed on you heavily.

Mapi sighed, exchanging a glance with Ingrid. “You can’t train like this. You’re going home.”

Before you could argue, Mapi and Ingrid were already taking charge. Ingrid was gathering your things while Mapi kept a steady hand on your back, guiding you off the field. You wanted to protest, to say you could push through, but the truth was, you were relieved. Every step off the field felt like a small weight lifting from your shoulders, even if the rest of your body felt like collapsing.

The car ride home was quiet. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, feeling the vibrations of the road through your skull. The steady hum of the engine seemed to echo in your ears, making the pounding in your head even worse. Every bump in the road sent a jolt through your aching body, and you could feel your fever rising.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Ingrid said from the front seat, her voice gentle. She glanced at you in the rearview mirror, her eyes soft. “We’ll get you home, and you can rest.”

Mapi reached back, her hand resting on your knee as she gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about training. Just focus on getting better.”

You nodded weakly, though the anxiety inside you refused to calm down. The overwhelming noise, the fever, the constant pressure in your head—it was all too much, and your ADHD only made it worse. Your senses felt overloaded, every little sound amplified, every touch feeling too sharp. It was like your brain couldn’t process anything properly, and it left you on edge.

When you finally arrived at the house, Mapi helped you inside, her arm steady around your waist. You collapsed onto the couch, too exhausted to even care how weak you must have looked. Ingrid brought over a blanket, wrapping it around you as she sat beside you, her hand gently running through your hair.

“You need to rest,” Ingrid said softly, her voice calm and soothing. “Let us take care of you.”

You wanted to protest, to tell them you didn’t want to be a burden, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could manage was a small nod as you leaned into the warmth of the blanket. Mapi disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear the sound of the kettle boiling, the clinking of mugs. Every noise felt too loud, too sharp, making your head spin even more.

The lights in the living room seemed too bright, the blanket too heavy on your body, and your thoughts raced. Your fingers tapped anxiously against the fabric, unable to stop the nervous energy coursing through you. You hated feeling like this—helpless, overwhelmed, and too sick to do anything about it.

“I can’t relax,” you whispered, barely loud enough for Ingrid to hear. “It’s too much.”

Ingrid shifted closer, her hand stilling your tapping fingers, squeezing them gently. “I know,” she said softly, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here.”

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on her voice, but it was hard. The sensory overload was getting worse, the lights and sounds around you pressing in, making it impossible to think straight. The fever only heightened your sensitivity, every touch, every noise feeling like too much for your brain to handle.

Mapi returned with a cup of tea, sitting beside you and offering it gently. You tried to take it, but your hands were trembling, and the cup shook in your grip. Mapi quickly took it from you, placing it on the table before any more tea spilled over the edge.

“Easy,” she said softly, her tone calm and patient. “Don’t push yourself.”

You leaned into her, your body aching with exhaustion. The warmth of her arm around you and Ingrid’s gentle touch on your hand helped a little, but the restlessness inside you was relentless. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing shallow as the panic began to rise. You felt like you were losing control, like the world around you was moving too fast and too loud, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“I hate this,” you muttered, your voice breaking as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “I just want it to stop.”

Mapi’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as Ingrid rubbed soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay to feel that way,” Mapi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. Just breathe.”

You tried to focus on her words, on the steady rise and fall of her chest as she held you. Ingrid’s calming presence beside you was a lifeline, her hand grounding you as the storm inside you continued to rage.

“We’ll get through this together,” Ingrid said softly, her voice like a warm blanket around your frayed nerves. “Just take it one breath at a time.”

Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. The noise in your head wasn’t as overwhelming, the lights not as blinding. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. You leaned into Mapi’s embrace, letting the exhaustion take over, your body finally relaxing as the world around you quieted down.

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