pairing: michael olise x f!reader . . . masterlist
genre: fluff
synopsis: michael shares an intimate moment at the pool with you
a/n: first football fic! i'm back!! hope u enjoy :) feel free to request for football!!
it started when one of the bayern boys said, "come over, everyone's bringing someone!" before long, nearly the entire squad had shown up alongside their partners.
now all you could see and hear was the water beneath you, the music blaring, and the multiple conversations going on. some guys were playing fifa outside on the tv, some playing some sort of water volleyball.
you'd spent most of the afternoon talking with some of the other girlfriends, but it was never for long. the observing was more fun; sitting back, minding your own business, enjoying the sight of people having fun.
michael also drifted between conversations, occasionally stealing glances your way. he wasn't the loudest in the group. not even close, but somehow you always knew where he was.
now the sun was low, casting everything with a golden hue.
you sat on the edge of the pool, feet kicked lazily beneath the surface, the cool water regulating your body temperature from the earlier heat.
"i still don't understand why you haven't gotten in."
you looked up. michael walked toward you in the pool, his shoulders shimmering from the sun and water. he rested his forearms on the edge of the pool before pushing himself up just enough that he was eye level with you.
"i'm comfortable here," you replied.
he fought back, "you've been saying that since you sat here."
"i have."
he rolled his eyes with a smile that barely reached his lips. the closest thing to teasing he ever did.
"come in the pool, babe." his hands inched towards your thighs, just tracing them gently.
a quiet hum escaped your lips. "hm, no."
without another word, he stood taller in the pool, the water reaching just above his waist.
he stepped closer and closer, just until he was directly between your knees.
your legs instinctively parted just enough to make room for him, your feet still floating in the water behind him.
he looked at you, up and down, checking out his girl before him.
"you could just..."
his hands rested on either side of your thighs, not holding you, just balancing himself against the pool's edge. his thumbs just lightly grazed the skin.
"...slide in."
you raised your eyebrows in slight disbelief on how sensual he made that sound. "is that your only argument?"
"i haven't finished."
"really?"
he leaned forward slightly. "the water's nice." he added.
"mhm." your reply was nothing but inviting.
"you'll cool off."
"i seem fine where i am." you leaned in an inch this time.
"you'll make me less lonely."
you couldn't help smiling. "there are like 12 other people in the pool."
"i don't want them."
the words were so simple but they caught you off guard. michael seemed to realize what he admitted a second later, looking away with a small, embarrassed smile. "i meant-"
"i know what you meant, mikes."
his eyes found yours again. the noise around you seemed to disappear. someone cannonballed into the deep end, drawing cheers from the others, but neither of you looked away.
you lifted your hand to cup his jaw. "you know," you said, "you're not usually this persuasive."
"i'm trying something different." a smirk played on his lips.
"i noticed." a small giggle escaped you.
he gently nudged your knee. "come in."
you sighed dramatically, hand dropping from his face. "i don't know..."
"you're already a bit in."
"but i don't want to get fully in." you slightly whined.
"but why not?" his head tilted slightly as his eyes wandered again. and so did his hands.
a tingle ran through you like an electric shock, the effect he had on you by just a touch was unfathomable. "my hair. i don't want it to get wet."
"i can change that."
you gasped.
"michael, don't."
a grin spread across his face. it wasn't a big one, just enough to wrinkle the corners of his eyes.
"there it is. the smile." you commented.
"what smile?"
"the one you pretend you don't have."
"i smile." he feigned offence.
"you smirk."
"i do smile!" his offence was starting to become no longer sarcastic.
"you definitely smirk."
he chuckled under his breath before reaching up. his fingers brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the gesture was slow, almost hesitant, as though he was checking if you'd pull away.
you didn't.
"you've got sunscreen on your cheek," he murmured.
"you just made that up," you said with disbelief.
"i did."
you laughed, shaking your head. "god, this boy.."
after a moment he spoke again, "so..."
he tilted his head. "are you coming in?"
you pretended to think about it, looking away. "hmmm.."
he placed his finger beneath your chin, making you face back to him. "are you okay?" soft concern laced in his voice.
"mhm," a hum from you before he placed his lips on yours, a soft kiss.
another one followed after a pause of a moment.
a third kiss followed as he sneakily wrapped his arms around your waist.
"nuh uh." you immediately knew what was up, trying to fight against his arms. "michael, hey, no."
"what?" he asked, pretending to be clueless.
"stop! michael!" after giving up on attempting to pry his hands off, you tightly wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life.
with one smooth movement, he lifted you enough to steal your balance. you squealed, holding on him tightly as he quickly slipped you into the water.
the splash wasn't nearly as dramatic as you expected. he didn't fully submerge you underwater. thank god.
the water reached above your shoulders, managing to get in your mouth. you sputtered it out. nonetheless, the pool was freezing for a second.
it was so cold, you began shivering. opening your eyes, you were met with the sight of michael laughing and apologizing already.
"i'm sorry."
"no you're not! you planned that." your grip on him loosened, yet his hold around you didn't falter. he could tell you were cold from not adapting to the water yet, so he attempted to warm you up with his hands and body.
"...maybe."
you splashed him in the face. "there! revenge."
he wiped the water from his eyes with one hand, refusing to let go of you. "worth it."
you rolled your eyes and rested your hands on his shoulders.
the pool got more comfortable after a few moments, yet he steadied you without pulling you any closer than you already were. around you, the party carried on as if nothing had happened.
the laughter was in the distance, and it felt like the two of you had somehow found your own little corner of the world.
she was convinced he would always choose the easy way out. he was convinced wanting her was a line he could never cross. every time things became real, he ran. this time, she refused to let him.
the first thing she learned about michael was that silence was his favorite weapon.
not because he was shy. that would have been easier. shy people eventually opened up.
michael simply chose not to.
he could walk into a room full of cameras, reporters, and people desperate for a piece of his attention and somehow make it feel like he was the only person who wasn’t trying.
he didn’t chase the spotlight. the spotlight chased him.
and she hated that.
not because he was famous. not because he was talented. those things were obvious.
she hated that he knew exactly how much people wanted from him and still managed to look completely unaffected, especially during interviews.
especially with her.
“michael, after tonight’s performance, do you think the team is finally finding its rhythm?”
the camera light blinked. the room went quiet.
michael leaned back slightly in his chair, getting comfortable, his position almost cocky. god, this guy never made things easy.
his expression remained unreadable.
“we played well.” his reply was delivered so casually, so completely deadpan, that she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.
she stared at him. she had been doing this for six months. six months of interviews. six months of watching him give the same three answers in different combinations. six months of trying to pull an actual personality out of him.
“that’s your answer?” there was a slight edge of irritation in her voice, and it was impossible for him to miss it.
his eyes lifted to hers.
dark.
calm.
annoyingly calm.
“you asked a question.” his reply was so deliberately sarcastic that she almost laughed out of disbelief.
the cameraman immediately looked away to hide his laugh.
she pressed her lips together. his lips lifted.
“yes, michael. a question that required more than three words.”
“three words were enough.”
“according to who?”
“me.”
she stared at him. there it was. that tiny hint of amusement. the smallest curve at the edge of his mouth.
he was doing it on purpose.
“you enjoy making my job difficult.”
“no.” he shifted forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his attention fully on her. something dark moved through his eyes, but as soon as he leaned back against the chair, it disappeared. “i enjoy watching you get frustrated.”
the room went silent. she blinked.
for a second, she forgot they were recording. then she recovered.
“great. wonderful. amazing. glad we could establish that our star player enjoys being a professional inconvenience.” her words came out coated in sarcasm, every syllable carefully chosen to irritate him.
michael’s eyes stayed on hers.
“star player?” cocky. confident. he had liked that. of course that word got his attention, out of everything she had said, it was that one word that made him not break the eye contact.
she frowned.
“what?”
“you called me a star player.”
“i did.”
“you usually call me difficult.”
“that too.”
a pause.
then, almost too quietly:
“i think i prefer star player.” a quiet amusement flashed in his eyes, and she immediately regretted giving him the satisfaction.
and somehow that annoyed her more than if he had argued. because she noticed the difference.
the problem was everyone else noticed too. the entire team had noticed.
the players. the coaches. the staff.
everyone.
because michael and her were incapable of being in the same room without turning it into a competition. behind every argument was a feeling they refused to acknowledge. they hid behind sarcasm and irritation, pretending there wasn’t something deeper growing between them.
there was an invisible thread between them, one they both pretended not to feel.
they argued about interviews. they argued about training schedules.
they argued about whether his answers were too short
“they’re not too short.” michael had said once.
“they are literally one sentence.”
“efficient.”
“lazy.”
“efficient.”
“lazy.”
“you’re repeating yourself.”
“because you aren’t listening.”
and the worst part? everyone found it entertaining.
the team had even started taking bets.
she discovered this when she walked into the locker room one afternoon and heard:
“twenty bucks says they admit it before the end of the tournament.”
she stopped.
“admit what?”
instant silence.
three players suddenly became extremely interested in their phones.
désiré looked at the ceiling.
bradley looked at the floor.
she crossed her arms, raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. then, she tilted her head slightly, skepticism written all over her face.
“interesting.”
“no idea what you’re talking about.” désiré said, he looked at her with an expression of complete innocence, though she wasn’t fooled for a second.
“you were betting.” she met his eyes. the certainty in her voice left little room for debate.
“no.” he delivered the lie smoothly, almost too smoothly.
“you were.”
“no.”
“who started it?” she waited for an answer.
everyone immediately pointed at michael. who was sitting in the corner, tying his boots.
he didn’t even look up.
“traitors.” michael said, pretending to be offended.
she looked at him. there was a small smile tugging at his lips. the audacity of this man.
“you knew?” she waited for him to meet her eyes.
“of course.” his response came out flat and effortless, his attention still fixed on his boots rather than her.
“and you didn’t stop them?” she waited for an answer, but he only continued tying his boots, his movements slow and unhurried.
“answer me.” she said, the slightest edge of frustration slipping into her voice. she hated how easily he could ignore her.
“no, i didn’t stop them.” his voice was as relaxed as ever, which somehow annoyed her even more.
“why?”
after making her wait, finally, he looked at her — and somehow that was worse than him ignoring her, because now she had his full attention.
“because it’s funny.” he answered, like he couldn’t understand why she needed an explanation.
she narrowed her eyes.
he looked entertained at her reaction.
“you think this is funny?” she asked, her voice sharper now.
a pause.
“a little.” he admitted, looking far too pleased with himself.
“a little?” she let out a humorless laugh and narrowed her eyes once more. “that’s your defense?”
“yeah?” he said, meeting her frustration with effortless patience.
she blinked and shook her head.
“you’re unbelievable.” she muttered, but the small smile she tried to hide betrayed her. the worst part was that he looked completely satisfied with himself.
his gaze stayed on hers. michael studied her expression, like he was memorizing every little reaction she had to him. the corner of his mouth lifted. she forced herself to hold his gaze, even as a nervous feeling she refused to acknowledge crept in.
“that’s becoming your favorite sentence.” he said softly, like he was keeping track of every time she used it.
she had a reply ready. she always had a reply. but the way he was looking at her made her pause.
for once, the words didn’t come immediately.
and she hated that he noticed everything.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
the night everything changed was supposed to be simple.
a post-match interview. a few photos. a quick media session. then home. except the weather. except the weather had other plans.
the storm arrived suddenly. rain hitting the stadium windows so hard that everyone kept turning to look. the kind of rain that made the entire world feel smaller.
by the time she finished packing up her equipment, most of the building was empty. she checked her phone.
no messages. no missed calls.
great.
she grabbed her bag and headed toward the main entrance. only to find the doors locked.
she pulled. nothing.
she grabbed the handle harder this time and pulled again, only to be met with the same resistance. her frustration grew instantly.
“you have got to be kidding me.” she whispered, staring at the door like it had personally betrayed her.
a voice behind her answered. she turned immediately.
“that sounded optimistic.” he remarked, leaning against the wall, clearly enjoying her reaction.
michael.
she froze. of course. of course it was him.
michael stood a few meters away, holding his phone.
she looked at him, genuinely surprised. “why are you still here?” as if his presence alone was becoming a problem she didn’t know what to do with.
he raised an eyebrow.
“i could ask you the same thing.” he answered, holding her gaze.
“i was working.” she said, giving him a look that suggested he should already know that. unimpressed by his question.
“so was i.” his voice far too relaxed for the situation.
“you don’t work.” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “you kick a ball around for a living.”
he stared at her for a moment, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. “that’s a very simplified version of my career.”
“it’s the version everyone understands.” she said, like she had just delivered the most reasonable explanation in the world.
a faint smile appeared on michael’s lips. it reached his eyes. he shook his head.
“there she is.” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“what?” she repeated, studying his expression like she was trying to figure out what he meant.
“the insult.” he clarified, his tone now fully amused.
she looked away.
“i didn’t insult you.” she said, looking at him like the accusation was ridiculous.
“you absolutely did. you called my job ‘kicking a ball around.’” he gave her a well-knowing look.
“well, maybe because-”
the lights flickered. both of them looked up.
the stadium suddenly felt much larger. and much quieter. the storm outside was the only sound.
she slowly looked back at him. he was already looking at her. and somehow, that was more unsettling than being alone.
“tell me you know how to get us out.” she said, her voice quieter this time.
michael looked toward the locked doors. then back at her.
“i don’t.” he admitted, his voice dropped slightly, calm and unbothered.
she closed her eyes.
“of course you don’t.” she rolled her eyes and let out a sigh.
“you expected me to?” he asked, his tone low and teasing.
he moved closer, his footsteps echoing softly through the empty stadium. the space between them shrinking with every step.
“i expected you to be useful.” she said, though the confidence in her voice wasn’t as strong as before. she was aware of how close he was getting.
“i’m hurt.”
“you’ll recover.”
“probably.” his tone was dry and final.
he stopped close enough that she could hear his voice clearly even over the sound of the storm outside. for once, neither of them had a sarcastic remark ready.
still, she found herself standing a little straighter as he got closer, suddenly too aware of the silence between them. his eyes stayed on her, quiet and focused.
“michael.” she said, breaking the silence. forcing her usual confidence back into her voice.
her voice pulling him out of whatever he was thinking. his eyes dropped to her lips. he was staring at her, and for once, she couldn’t tell if he was about to make another sarcastic comment or if he was simply watching her.
his presence, heavy and palpable, skimmed down her spine.
she didn’t say anything because she was internally shaking at his closeness. just the idea he might touch her sent every nerve ending in her back tingling in expectation. he had never touched her before. at least, not in the way she wanted him to.
his expression had changed, the usual teasing look was gone, replaced by something calmer, harder to read. more dangerous.
his hand came to rest at her waist, a brief gesture that made her pause.
she inhaled slowly. released it.
“michael.” she repeated again, her voice shaking with anticipation.
“i’m done playing games with you.” he said, the words carrying a weight she wasn’t expecting. she was used to him joking, teasing, pushing her buttons, not this.
“is that what you think we do? play games?” her voice barely a whisper, only for him to hear. she was searching for a shift in his expression.
“i don’t care what you call it.” he said, his voice steady and deep. “i’m done pretending.”
his eyes filled with darkness. the kind of darkness that wraps around your soul and pulls.
he grasped her by the throat, pushed her back against the wall. the space between them felt heavier than everything.
his frustration finally breaking through the calm mask he always wore. she couldn’t understand his sudden anger.
he swallowed her next breath in his mouth. an explosion of fire burst inside her, spreading from her stomach to the tips of her fingers. her blood sizzled. the press of his lips against her hit her with such intensity.
his hand moved from her throat to her hips, his palm sliding down to the curve of her ass, caressing her.
he nipped at her bottom lip and then licked it, soothing the sharp sting with his tongue. a moan traveled up her throat. her fingers curled, and she scraped her nails down his stomach, feeling his abs.
she swayed towards him, her body melting against his. his lips pulled away slowly, after she’d only had a single taste of him and protest flooded her veins. she wanted more.
she suddenly wondered how many women he’d kissed, but that thought was long gone when he moved a hand in her hair, grabbing a fisful and tilting her head.
he nipped a line down her neck, pulling the skin beneath his teeth and lightly sucked. she moaned.
oh.
her heart was beating so hard she was scared he could hear it.
the heat of his body, his unexplainable anger and the force of his presence, everything stole her breath.
with her palms resting on his stomach, she could only pant while he nipped and sucked at her throat, her collarbone and the top of her breasts. heat tugged in her lower stomach.
he wasn’t kissing her anymore, just softly touching her while only their breaths and the sound of rain could be heard.
while he was distracted watching his own movements, she rose to her toes and kissed him. a rumble escaped him, half-groan, half-growl as her tongue met his. a hot sweep and then she pulled away before he could.
she was breathless. and delirious.
the urge hit her so hard, her mouth watered. she wanted him in her mouth. her hands worked on getting his sweatpants off, with every intention of dropping to her knees.
he groaned and made a tortured noise.
“fuck. not here.”
“michael, please.” she pleaded.
before she could lower herself, he caught her wrists and pressed them against the wall and slowly slid them up above her head. his grip was like fire and his presence intimidating.
a shiver rolled through her as his lips pressed against her ear.
so, this was what it felt to be touched by him…
addictive.
stepping closer, he pressed his front to her, until they were flush with one another.
his heart, it was beating so hard.
she’d never felt more alive.
his gaze met hers. it was madness.
he looked at her lips and then to her breasts that moved with each inhale and exhale.
this man was hot for her. the evidence was very obvious now, pressed against her stomach. she wanted to make him feel good.
suddenly, his gaze shifted, something unreadable settling in his eyes. his whole presence felt off.
“let’s get out of here.” he said, his tone dry.
he let her go and she almost screamed in protest. he put a few feet between them, his shoulders tense. he looked like he was trying to collect his thoughts.
she knew this was over.
“that’s it?” she asked quietly, clearly expecting him to say more, unable to hide the confusion in her voice. “you kiss me, tell me you’re done pretending… and that’s all?” disappointment settling heavily in her chest.
michael didn’t answer.
he just stood there, his back now turned to her, his shoulders rising and falling with a slow breath. his jaw tightening as if there were a hundred things he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to say any of them.
“you finally stop pretending… and your solution is to walk away?” she needed an explanation. she was tired—tired of the mixed signals, the endless arguments, and trying to figure him out on her own.
he let out a quiet breath before turning to her. his eyes finding hers for only a moment before drifting away.
“i don’t know.” he admitted after a long silence. “i’ll figure it out, okay?”
“by pretending again?” she whispered, her eyes searching his face.
he caught the disappointment in her voice, and his chest tightened. he did not want to hurt her.
hurting her had never been his intention.
he closed his eyes for a brief moment. he hadn’t walked away because he didn’t care. he’d walked away because he cared too much. but fear had always been easier than vulnerability.
“i don’t know how to do this.” he admitted. “fuck, i don’t even know what happened just now.” he let out a slow breath, running a hand over the back of his neck.
he continued. she let him.
i’ve spent so long pretending none of this meant anything that…” he let out a quiet, frustrated breath. “i don’t even know what’s real anymore.”
she took a slow step towards him.
“this is real, michael. i just need you to stop running every time something feels real.” her voice was quiet but unwavering.
he shook his head slowly.
“i’m not running because i don’t wan’t this.” he finally looked at her. “i’m running because i do. and i don’t know what the hell i’m supposed to do with that.”
“you just have to stop convincing yourself that leaving is easier.” she whispered, holding his gaze. “because it isn’t. it’s just what you’re used to do.”
she wanted him to let go. not of her — of the fear, the excuses, the endless pretending. she wanted him to stop fighting something that was already there. she was tired of almost. tired of the looks that lasted too long, the words they never said, the feelings they both kept pretending weren’t there.
she just wanted him to be honest.
to finally stop hiding from her.
“okay.” for once, he didn’t argue. he didn’t make a joke. he just accepted it. it was a surrender.
she waited for him to move. for him to make another excuse. for him to walk away like he always did.
but he didn’t.
for once, he stayed.
this time, it was different. they both knew it.
no excuses.
no pretending.
no running.
he didn’t have all the answers. he didn’t suddenly know how to make everything easier.
but he stayed.
not with grand words or empty promises, just with the quiet certainty that he wasn’t leaving.
because after all this time, after all the times he had chosen distance, he finally chose to stay.
Michael isn't overly affection in front of other people. He's more reserved, so you probably wouldn't catch him constantly kissing or hugging you in public. But when your alone it's different. He'd always find some excuse to be touching you, a hand on your thigh while he's driving, his arm around your waist whenever you're doing your makeup, or his head on your shoulder while you're watching a movie together.
B - bad days
Michael notices your mood before you ever have to say anything. If you've had a bad day, he won't pressure you to talk. Instead, he'll quietly sit beside you, put your favorite show on, order your favorite food, and wait for you to speak. He believes just being there is sometimes enough.
C - compliments
He's not the type to compliment you every five minutes, which somehow makes every compliment mean even more. You'll walk into the room wearing pajamas, hair messy, and he'll glance up from his phone before saying, "You look beautiful."
D - dates
Michael definitely prefers simple dates over expensive ones. Late-night drives, trying a new café, staying home and cooking together, wandering around bookstores or quiet streets.
E - effort
Michael remembers the little things. If you once mention your favorite chocolate, he'll come home with it weeks later without you asking. If you're stressed with work he'll make sure dinners all sorted out. He doesn't make a big deal out of what he does, he just wants your life to be a little easier.
F - first "I love you"
He wouldn't rush it. Michael would wait until he knew he meant it completely. When he finally says it, it's probably late at night, lying beside you after talking for hours. Just a quiet, "I love you." Barley even heard cause of how quiet he whispered it.
G - gifts
Michael isn't the type to buy huge, extravagant gifts just because. Instead, he'd notice the little things. If you once said you liked a certain candle, book, or snack, don't be surprised if it magically appears on your kitchen counter a month later. His gifts always have a meaning behind them, and that's what makes it so special.
H - hugs
He's definitely a hugger when it's just the two of you. The kind where he'll pull you into him after a long day and stay there for a while without saying anything. Sometimes he'd bury his face in your neck, other times he'd rest his chin on your head. He doesn't like to rush them because they mean so much to him.
I - insecurities
Michael wouldn't make you feel silly for being insecure.If you admitted you were overthinking something, he'd listen and help you feel better. Then spend the rest of the day making sure you felt loved without making it obvious.
J - jealousy
He's not overly possessive, but he's definitely observant. If someone was flirting with you, he wouldn't cause a scene. Instead, he'd quietly walk over, slip an arm around your waist, greet you with a soft "Hi, baby." and suddenly whoever was flirting would get the message. Afterwards, he'd probably tease you about it more than admit he was jealous.
K - kisses
He loves giving you kisses, it's his favorite thing. Whether it's before training, after training, or when you're just on the couch he'll always find someway to kiss you randomly. Even if he walked past you for two seconds, he'd leave a quick kiss somewhere before continuing whatever he was doing.
L - love language
Michael shows love through acts of service and quality time. Charging your phone because you forgot. Filling your car with gas. Bringing you water before bed. Sitting with you while you finish work, even if he's doing something else. he just likes spending time with you even during those moments.
M - missing you
Michael isn't the type to constantly text, "I miss you," every hour. Instead, you'll randomly get a picture of his hotel view, a meal he's eating, or a sunset with no context. When you ask why he sent it, he'll simply say, "Thought you'd like it." That's his way of saying he wished you were there.
N - nicknames
He'd mostly use "baby" without even realizing it. Sometimes "love." The really cheesy nicknames only come out when he's tired or trying to make you smile. If he's teasing you, he'll probably just say your full name with the most serious expression possible before laughing.
O - overthinking
Michael notices when you're overthinking before anyone else does. He'll ask, "What's going on in that head?" If you insist it's nothing, he won't push, but later that night he'll quietly check in again.
P - pda
He's pretty subtle. Holding your hand. A hand resting on your back as you walk. Brushing your shoulder as he passes. Nothing that draws attention, but enough that everyone knows you're together.
Q - quiet moments
His favorite moments are in the mornings where you're both half asleep, making breakfast in silence. Long drives with music playing softly. Or just teaching you how to play his favorite games.
R - reassurance
Whenever you're doubting yourself, he doesn't just tell you you're enough, he explains why. He'll remind you of things you've forgotten about yourself.
S - sleep
Michael would absolutely pull you closer in his sleep without realizing it. If you rolled away during the night, he'd unconsciously reach for you until you were back beside him.
T - trust
Trust means everything to him. Once you earn it, he'll tell you things he doesn't tell anyone else. His worries about football, the pressure, the expectations, and he'll slowly let you into parts of his life the public never gets to see.
U - upset
If the two of you argue, Michael won't like going to bed angry. Even if he needs time to cool off, he'll eventually come find you. He'd rather have an uncomfortable conversation than let silence ruin anything.
V - vacations
Michael would prefer quiet places over crowded tourist spots. Somewhere with good weather, good food, and enough privacy that the two of you can actually relax.
w - waiting
No matter how long you're taking, he'll wait. He might send a playful "Are you almost ready?" text, but once you finally walk out, he'll forget he was ever impatient. The first thing he'll tell you is about how gorgeous you look.
x - eXpressions
Michael isn't always good at putting everything into words, so you learn to read his expressions instead. One small smile from him can tell you he's proud of you. A raised eyebrow means he's amused. The way he looks at you when you aren't paying attention says more than he could.
y - you
If someone asked Michael what his favorite thing about you was, he probably wouldn't answer with your looks. He'd talk about the way you laugh at your own jokes or about how excited you get over little things.
Z - zero words
One of the most meaningful moments in your relationship wouldn't involve speaking at all. Maybe it's after one of his matches. He spots you in the crowd, exhausted, and the second he reaches you, he just wraps his arms around you.
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: he's not very clingy but when he is, it's exhausting because he keeps kissing you too much until you have swollen lips.
michael had a problem that only exists whenever you were around.
according to him, your lips were his favorite thing in the world. it would’ve been sweet if he had any self-control whatsoever but unfortunately he didn’t.
that was how you found yourself standing in front of the bathroom mirror on a random morning staring at your reflection in disbelief.
“michael.”
from the bedroom came an innocent hum, that immediately told you he was guilty.
“michael!”
you walked out of the bathroom and see him sitting on the edge of the bed scrolling through his phone completely unbothered.
you pointed accusingly at your face.
“look.”
he looked up then immediately smiled, it proved he already knew.
“what?”
you stared. “what do you mean what?”
his smile got bigger, now he was actively trying not to laugh.
“look at my lips!”
he did, far more attentively than necessary and it only made him smile more.
“they look nice.”
“they’re swollen.”
he tilted his head studying them. “yeah, slightly.”
“slightly?”
“okay maybe a little,” he shrugged.
“a little?” you sounded offended. “this is your fault!”
he put his phone down.
“come here.”
“no.”
“why?”
“because i know you.”
“wow.”
“don’t wow me.”
“i wasn’t going to do anything.”
the problem was that michael couldn’t help himself.
he would see you then immediately want a kiss, then another, and another, again and again.
thirty minutes would pass and he’d still be kissing you completely unaware of the passage of time like a man with absolutely no limits.
you sat beside him on the bed still annoyed or at least pretending to be because deep down you knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose.
he was simply absurdly affectionate, sometimes to a ridiculous degree.
“you’re smiling,” he pointed at you.
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
“prove it.”
“i can see it.”
“that’s not proof,” he moved closer and you narrowed your eyes immediately.
“don’t.”
“don’t what?”
“whatever you’re planning.”
“i’m planning nothing.”
it was possibly the worst lie he’d ever told, he was already looking at you with the look that usually ended with him forgetting how personal space worked.
“michael, behave.”
“i always behave.”
a few seconds later he rested his head on your shoulder completely casually.
“you know,” he sounded thoughtful. “i don’t think they’re that swollen.”
“get out.”
he immediately smiled, burying his face against your shoulder before you could push him away.
michael looked up and you remembered why you never stayed annoyed at him for very long, whenever he looked at you like that it became painfully obvious just how much he adored you.
he reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“you’re cute.”
you rolled your eyes immediately. “don’t try to distract me.”
“it’s working.”
“it’s not.”
unfortunately, it probably was. he leaned forward very slowly giving you more than enough time to stop him.
“if you kiss me again i’m leaving.”
he considered that seriously for approximately two seconds then smiled. “worth the risk.”
before you could finish threatening him, he pressed just a quick kiss against your lips, immediately pulling back afterward.
even if it wasn't the kiss he wanted, he was looking too proud of himself while you sat there staring at him.
where michael gets jealous of the way désiré talks to you.
day 12 of my world cup 2026 series ~
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
recovery day rolled around again. this time, michael, désiré, kylian, rayan and mateta invited you along to a little cafe hangout.
des had been one of your good friends for a while, longer than you and michael had been together.
well, together was a stretch. it was more of a situationship-talking stage thing. neither of you wanted to put a label on it just yet.
at the cafe, you sat beside michael and across des. the latter had made a joke about your drink choice which caused you two to laugh. michael, however, was confused.
“what’s so funny?” he asks, looking at you before looking at des.
after a couple of giggles, you explained that it was some inside joke you’d had from a while ago.
he nodded but didn’t look too content with that explanation. inside joke. why wasn’t he involved?
he wasn’t too fond of how you guys were looking at each other too. des had a look of love in his eyes. at least in michael’s eyes; maybe he was just blinded by his jealousy.
as the table continued to converse about anything and everything, you felt michael’s leg brushing yours every time désiré would direct his conversation at you.
the first time he did it, you brushed it off. maybe it was an accident. the second time was a little more obvious, his hand also moving to rest on your knee. the third time, though? you fully picked up on what he was trying to do. his hand even went up towards your thigh. thrice is a pattern after all.
you shot a glance towards michael and he just maintained his stoic expression.
‘what is your problem?’ you mouthed, and instead of giving you an explanation, he just shrugged.
your eyes basically rolled to the back of your head before you rejoined the table.
*
after the meal, the 6 of you guys decided to walk around the city more. you and michael lingered at the back and that was when you decided to ask him about just now.
“what was that about?” you ask softly, folding your arms while staring at him.
michael let out a snort. “so this is what this is about?”
you glared at him hard, in turn causing him to raise his hands up in surrender.
“fine, okay. sorry. i just didn’t like how des was staring at you so intently. like he wanted to eat you up or something,” relented michael with a small smirk on his face.
you groaned, giving him a light smack on his shoulder. “is that all? seriously? i didn’t peg you for the jealous type y’know…”
“hm. now you know.”
you rolled your eyes again but you went to hold his hand and give it a squeeze.
“if it makes you feel any better,” you started, arms swinging along with his as you two walked, “des has a girlfriend who he loves very much. we’re just good friends.”
he squeezes your hand back and smiles. not a smug kind of smile, this one was a genuine smile smile.
