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When y/n arrived in front of Michael's room, it was wide open, probably because they were waiting for her or other players.
As she got inside, she saw that half of the team was there.
Rayan, Maghnes, Bradley and Warren were seated on the couch while Jules, Wilo, Upa, Mike and Ibou were on the floor and Kylian, Ousmane, Hugo and Michael were on the bed.
"Woah you actually didn't chicken out Micky" shouts Ousmane souding really surprised.
"Couldn't win without her" replied the Bayern player with a small smile on his face.
"Relax, we're not gonna team up and anyway who's room is this?"Asks y/n.
"It's mine, everybody keeps going there and they all manage to forget to close the door" answers Jules, a bit annoyed because of his friends.
"Come sit next to me" pats Kylian to the free space on the bed.
As she sat down, a voice called out her name: "Y/n how old are you by the way?" questions Wilo curiously.
"I'm 23, why?"she answers.
"Not wanna be mean to the staff and all but all of the employees are at least 30, how did you manage to get the job?" Wilo tells her.
"I graduated when I was 17, and it's only 3 years of studying" she replies awkwardly.
"And I didn't even get to graduate" laughs Rayan.
After 5 minutes of arguing about the composition of the teams, they finally started playing.
Y/n teamed up with Wilo because she recently filmed a video with some of the players and apparently he was the best at fifa according to Jules and Randal.
And she was right, because of him, they managed to win most of their matches.
Now was the final against Ous and Micky. While Michael wasn't any good, Ousmane was fine but not good enough to win against William.
Obviously, Y/n and Michael decided to play against each other. Their rivalry was pretty noticeable to everyone in the room, the tension was unbearable.
As they sat next to each other to start the game, their shoulders touched. Surprisingly, it is Mr Nonchalant who reacted to it by getting the chills which made his cheeks blush a little.
Of course, y/n hadn't seen it, but Upa and Ibou had definitely seen it and would talk to him about it later.
As they started playing, y/n chose Bayern and he chose Real .
"Are u trying to announce something right now?" Joked y/n.
"Well u chose my team innit" answers Michael.
"U told me to choose first and anyway you're getting benched" she says sarcastically.
"I don't know how you are gonna win without me?" questions Michael while finally looking at her in the eyes for a fraction of seconds before looking down again.
In that moment, she wonders if he is blushing or if he's always looked like that.
As the match finishes, Y/n wins 5-2 against Michael. She high-fives Wilo before telling Micky "have you noticed how I don't need you" with a playful smile on her face.
'Huh, next time I'm not letting you choose a team before me" he replies.
"I don't like this game" he adds while almost letting his controller fall on the table.
"Yeah u just don't like losing against someone who doesn't even like football" she tells him.
"Wait you don't? Now I feel even worse" he says sounding almost dramatic.
"No I don't hate it but there's always too much drama." She adds.
As Michael was gonna say something, Kyky stands up and says " okay guys before a debate starts, let's all go to bed. We've got a game against Brazil tomorrow."
"Finally I get my room back" murmurs Jules.
As everyone walks back to their rooms, Ibou and Upa decide that they are gonna talk to Kyky about Olise's little crush.
"Kyky I'm telling you, Micky got a crush on y/n, she literally made him blush and that was not out of embarrassment." Starts Upa.
"Plus he's never a gentleman, especially when it comes to games" adds Ibou.
"You know what? I think you may be right, I noticed that during lunch when we were still in Clairefontaine, Micky kept looking at someone and I couldn't quite tell who it was but it was probably her, she was in this direction." Explains Kylian.
He then adds "And during the plane, when I was the storyteller of the game, he apologised for his behaviour during the interview".
"Damn he's down bad, he never apologises normally" replies Jules laughing "Please guys, I should have never heard that, go back to your rooms and please let me sleep".
As they were leaving the room, they told Jules " don't say anything for now." And forgot to close the door behind them, leaving a angry Jules behind.
As y/n went back to her room, she decided she would post something to mock Michael.
y/n ✔️
Bro really thought he was winning against Wilo and I. #pathetic #michaelolise #michaelolisehateslosing
@m.olise @williamsaliba @edf
Comments
Rayancherki✔️ he was literally fuming
Kylianmbappe✔️ please do it again
M.thuram✔️ not so nonchalant anymore
10 543 other comments
She also decided to post on the french team's real account, I mean that was her job.
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.
being loved by michael olise was exhausting but wonderful.
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Ive been so obsessed with dbf!jensen 😭 i want daddy so badly i genuinely tremble thinking about him. I imagine him taking advantage of my daddy issues and god just be a little pervert yet caring enough to make me more attached.
(if youre not into rpf then heres one ab soldier boy) whats your headcanon/thoughts on domestic abusive soldier boy? 👀👀
you and me both 😔
I don't write for real life people bcs I feel like that's too invasive but I love the trope so I will write dbf! for soldier boy. can still do the second ask if you want me to
MDNI (reader is an adult)
dbf! ben who visits you every time you get into a fight with your dad. he gently knocks on your door and enters your room before you can even respond. tears run down your puffy face "please go away" you whisper quietly and try to conceal your tears by bringing your hands to your face.
"don't hide that sweet face. what's the matter, doll?" he asked quietly in that low deep voice of his. with confident steps he approaches you, his scent filling the room up with a manly presence. he settles down onto your bed right next to you with a sigh. his hand reaches in his pocket taking out a small box. "here, it made me think of you. c'mon wipe those cute tears and open it up" he hands you over the small box. you open it up finding a silver necklace.
a smile washes over your face and you whisper a thank you putting it on your nightstand for now while slyly looking down at the matress. he tilts your chin up towards him taking in the sight of your puffy lips, red eyes and your dry tears "wanna tell me what you were cryin' about, doll?" he asked while looking at you so tender that it makes your body run cold.
your cheeks heated up but something about his demeanor made you want to open up to him. with a deep breath you began telling him about what has been bothering you "it's just my dad, ugh I don't understand how you can be friends with him. he is always so distant but still finds time to always complain about everything I do. he's never happy with me I swear to god and-" ben's hand rubbing your knee distracted you entirely from what you were about to say next.
ben chuckles "you have it way too easy nowadays. back in my day we used to get a good ol' spanking you know?" you rolled your eyes "great, exactly what I need. another person not taking me seriously." your eyes filled up with tears again. ben shifted his position, his back leaned against the wall as she spread his legs. quietness filled the room for a brief moment before ben patted his right leg, gesturing you to sit in between his legs. "c'mere, sweetheart. youre gettin' emotional again. you just wanna have a daddy that makes you feel cared for. don't you?"
you hesitate at first but settle down in between his legs, he wraps his muscular arms around you. the close approximately grounding you. you close your eyes entering a complete calm state of mind. but the peace gets disrupted when you feel ben's large hand gliding under your night gown. you squirm in his grap which only makes him hold you tighter "god ben, what are you doing?"
he brings his face close to yours, his beard scratching your cheek as he whispers "shhh, just relax for. me, just showing how much I care for you. now be a good girl and stay still." his fingers graze over your damp panties. he grins "my my what a dirty girl, knew it was inside of you. sweet lil thing like you... getting wet by a guy two times- almost three times older than you"
you could feel his bulge pressing against your ass making you freeze up in response. he slides your panties down, keeping them around your knees. ben stacks his index finger on top of his middle finger, plunging them in your hole. he groaned in your ear "mhmm look at my fingers sliding right in that tight hole from how wet you are. so excited for you to take my cock." you were about to melt in a puddle, your cheeks heating up "god this is too much"
he chuckles "too much? suddenly acting all innocent as if I don't notice how you always try to wear the shortest skirts infront of me whenever I come over to your house" he brings his other hand down to play with your clit. "you're lucky I don't bend you over and fuck you right there and then." he accentuates his point by pinching your nipple making you squeal.
ben leans down to kiss you with utmost hunger as he keeps on playing with your cunt. he pulls away breathing heavily "been wanting those lips on mine for months now" just before ending that sentence someone knocked on the door which instantly made ben pull away leaving you feeling all empty inside but you knew there would be many more instances like these.
summary: ben has a reputation to uphold as a legendary supe, but his girls are worth the risk
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If anyone from Ben’s past, anyone from Payback or from the old days, could see him right now, they wouldn’t even recognize the man.
He’d look them dead in the eye and swear that he was just "handling his responsibilities" and doing his job as the man of the house, but you knew better.
The legendary Soldier Boy. The strongest man on earth. The ruthless leader of Payback who didn't take shit from anyone, was currently being held hostage in his own living room.
Your baby girl was a few months old now. She was a lot more mobile, bubbly, and completely unaware of who her father was. Her tiny fist was curled tightly around the collar of his shirt, while her other hand gently tapped his face, her small fingers poking at his beard curiously as if to see what would happen.
Ben grumbled, but he didn’t make any effort to move away. On the contrary, his arm was wrapped around her, holding her steady so she wouldn’t lose her balance and fall.
He looked up when he heard your footsteps "Doll, she’s testing my beard again" He said with an impatience you knew wasn’t really there “Tell her it’s not a damn toy”
You walked into the living room from the kitchen, a warmed baby bottle in your hand "You can always put her down, you know" You said with amusement, sitting next to them and leaning back on the couch.
Ben scoffed, looking at you like you’d just suggested something ridiculous.
"I can't" He muttered "She’ll cry if I put her down. Then she’s gonna give me those damn eyes, and eventually I’ll have to pick her up again"
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. You knew better than to believe he was holding her out of obligation. He didn't put her down because he simply didn't want to.
Ben reached out, taking the bottle from your hand. He guided the nipple to her mouth, and your daughter immediately cuddled against his chest, latching on her milk. Her tiny, bright eyes never left his face.
Ben supported her head as he watched her drink "She looks exactly like you, y’know" He muttered quietly, his tone softening just a bit "Got your nose. Your eyes" He paused for a moment, staring at her face before a dark, protective scowl appeared on his face "Look at her. She’s gonna grow up, use those damn eyes on some idiot, and get whatever the hell she wants. Just like you do with me"
He looked up at you then "If she ever brings a boy home, he’s not coming out again. I’ll bury him in the backyard”
You burst out laughing "Ben, she’s not even a year old yet. Relax"
"I’m just thinking ahead, doll" He grumbled "Gotta keep the vultures away"
A few days later, the quiet afternoon was interrupted by soft, happy babbling coming from the nursery. You paused what you were doing and made your way there to check on your baby girl, assuming she had just woken up from her nap.
But when you pushed the door open, she wasn't in her crib.
She hadn’t just woken up from her nap, but she was also sitting on the soft carpet of the room. Her hair still a little messy from sleep, but she looked awake and content, with Ben sitting on the floor right next to her.
She was surrounded by a comical amount of toys, and a brand new baby swing that definitely hadn't been there yesterday.
You leaned against the doorframe, a smirk on your lips. It was hilarious how her little collection of toys had grown, and it was all because of Ben. The man absolutely loved spoiling his two girls, even if he would completely deny it every single time you teased him about it.
Just the other day, he’d walked through the front door carrying a boutique shopping bag. He’d tossed it on your lap with a casual grunt.
“Brought something for you” He’d muttered, nodding towards the bag “And for the squirt”
When you opened it, you nearly melted. Inside was a gorgeous summer dress for you, and right beneath it, a tiny, identical matching version for your daughter.
When you had teased him about it, asking if the great Soldier Boy was getting into fashion, he’d just grumbled “They were on sale. Don't look into it”
But the small smirk on his face had completely given him away. He wanted his girls to match.
You looked at them. Your daughter grabbed a plushie from the floor, clumsily lifting it with both hands and holding it out to Ben, looking up at him expectantly.
Ben looked at the toy with narrowed eyes, then looked up at you "She's looking at me again" He grumbled "Like she expects me to entertain her. I’m a global icon, doll. I don't do that peek-a-boo crap you do"
You laughed, walking into the room "Oh, come on. I’m sure a global icon can handle a stuffed bear”
"I handle threats to national security, not fuzzy animals" He complained, tho his hand was already reaching out to take the toy from her.
Before you could tease him back, a soft babble interrupted. Your little girl cooed, her eyes locked on Ben's face.
"Da…da" She babbled, patting his knee and handing him another toy. Then she repeated it, more clearly this time “Dada”
The room went silent for a moment. Ben froze, his hand stopping mid-air. For a split second, his tough-guy attitude completely cracked. A mix of pride and a rare vulnerability appeared on his face.
It was her very first word. And it had been him.
You felt your own heart melt. A soft, emotional smile on your face as you watched your daughter and Ben’s reaction.
But Ben didn't do emotional crap. He caught himself quickly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as he grabbed the toy she was holding out.
"Yeah, yeah. That’s right" He muttered, a small, smug smirk on his face "You tell your mom who’s number one around here"
You rolled your eyes, but there was pure warmth in your chest. You sit down with them and leaned in, resting your head on his shoulder while your daughter happily started chewing on the ear of a stuffed bunny.
Ben dropped the stuffed animal to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you tightly against his side while his eyes were still on the baby.
"Look at you two" He murmured lowly "You’re completely ruining my reputation. If the guys from Payback saw me right now, I'd have to kill 'em all just to keep 'em quiet"
You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder "Is it really that bad?"
Ben stared at you for a long moment, his thumb tracing your cheek before dropping back down to hold you tight. A small smirk appeared on his face as he looked between his two girls.
“It's worth it" He murmured softly against your hair.
so i wasn’t really thinking about a part three for this little story but @angel444riley shared an idea and this is what i came up with, i hope i did justice to what you had in mind haha
When this poll was on around 31 votes Mikey was winning but now the poll is sound 78 votes Désiré is winning 🥹 but don’t worry Michael one shots are yet to come!! The poll is open until Friday so u less Mikey gets more votes this one shot will probably be leaning towards Désiré 🫠 but feel free to leave any requests xx
Woah 100 likes on Break The Ice!! This actyakky means a lot to me I’m so glad everyone who’s liked it enjoyed it and there’s much more to come so feel free to request 🥰
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Summary: Désiré likes to tease you by taking your daughter’s side. (Y/D/N= Your daughter’s name)
·༻𐫱༺·
·༻𐫱༺·
It had been a long day and you were still a little frustrated from your earlier argument with Y/D/N. At just three years old she had an incredible knack for pushing my button like refusing to eat her vegetables, throwing a tantrum when you wouldn’t let her watch cartoons before bedtime and finally, the cherry on top, knocking over a cup of juice on purpose when you told her “no” for the tenth time.
After you cleaned up the mess and managed to calm her down, she pouted at me with those big dark eyes, so much like Désiré’s but you stood your ground. “No more juice Y/N. You have to learn to listen,” You had said firmly.
She had stomped her little foot, crossed her arms, and muttered, “Mean Mummy.” And that was that. She was upset you were exhausted and we were at an impasse.
As you headed to the living room, ready to vent to Désiré about the battle you had just fought, you found her already there, curled up against his chest. His arm was wrapped around her, his fingers absentmindedly running through her soft curls while she clung to him like a koala.
“Daddy,” she sighed dramatically peeking up at him with those big innocent eyes.
Désiré glanced down at her, already smitten. “Yes, my little princess?”
You folded your arms, eyeing them suspiciously. “Oh, don’t ‘little princess’ her yet you don’t even know what she did!”
Before you could even explain Désiré grinned mischievously and kissed the top of Y/D/N head. “Naughty Mummy being mean to my precious princess?” he teased looking at you with playful accusation. Y/D/N snuggled even closer to him, clearly enjoying this newfound alliance.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come on. She threw her juice on the floor on purpose!”
Désiré chuckled, rubbing her back. “Did you do that Y/D/N?” She buried her face in his chest and mumbled something unintelligible. Désiré gave you a look one eyebrow raised. “Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”
You huffed, sitting down next to them. “You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with today.”
Later that evening when Y/D/N was finally asleep, Désiré pulled you into his arms and said “You know she’s just testing boundaries right?”
You sighed resting your head against his chest. “I know but it’s exhausting and then she runs straight to you and you make me look like the villain.”
He chuckled tilting your chin up so you’d look at him. “I don’t think you’re the villain. I think you’re the best mum she could ever have. And she knows it too she just likes to see how far she can push.”
You smiled feeling some of the tension ease. “You’re going to have to back me up more you know.”
He nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Of course. But I reserve the right to call you ‘Naughty Mummy’ when it’s funny.”
You swatted his arm but you couldn’t help laughing. Life with Désiré and Y/D/N was chaotic but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. ‘I’ll show you how naughty mummy can get’ I teased him which then led the night to be an exhausting yet fun night.
·༻𐫱༺·
The next morning you woke up to the sound of little footsteps pattering across the floor. Before you could even fully open your eyes Y/D/N was already climbing onto the bed squeezing herself right in between you and Désiré.
“Daddy,” she whispered loudly as if you wasn’t right there.
Désiré hummed sleepily, pulling her close without even opening his eyes. “Mmm, morning, princess.”
You turned your head to look at her. She peeked up at you cautiously as if trying to gauge whether you were still upset. “Are we going to talk about what happened yesterday?” You asked gently.
She hesitated then without answering turned her attention back to Désiré running her tiny fingers over his face. “Daddy, can we have pancakes?”
Désiré cracked an eye open and smirked at you. “She’s smooth, I’ll give her that.”
“Y/D/N,” you said firmly resisting the urge to smile. “What do we say when we do something wrong?”
She finally turned to face you fully her little lips pressing into a pout before she muttered, “Sorry, Mummy.”
You softened instantly. “Thank you, baby. But you have to try to listen next time, okay?”
She nodded dramatically then grinned. “Now pancakes?”
Désiré laughed, sitting up and scooping her into his arms. “Come on, let’s make some. But you have to promis no throwing juice today.”
She giggled and held out her pinky. “Promise!”
Désiré winked at you over her head as he carried her toward the kitchen. “See? Reasoning with her works.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face. Life with them was never dull but you wouldn’t change it for the world.
Guys if I make a one shot where the reader is an exotic dancer at a club 😉 and she performs for a footballer which could potentially lead to eventual smut…🫣
Even tho there’s 2 days left til the vote end, I may get started on this soon if everyone would like that? Judging by what I’m seeing I think Désiré is winning so far so this story will likely be about him
heyyy can you write a guela doue fluff please ..it is their weekly date night but guela missed it because of how busy he’s been but reader isn’t upset-she’s understanding and considerate of his training and busy schedule. They’ve been dating for a while. Guela feels bad even though she said it was fine, he could see the sadness in her eyes and he makes it up to her with a cute romantic gesture.
thank youuu💕
The Date Night He Missed
Guéla Doué x Reader
·༻𐫱༺·
·༻𐫱༺·
Thursday nights belonged to the two of you.
It had been that way for almost as long as you’d been together. Life could get hectic, schedules could change and plans could fall through but somehow you and Guéla always found time for your weekly date night. Sometimes it was a fancy restaurant or sometimes it was takeaway eaten straight from the containers while sitting cross legged on the sofa. It didn’t really matter what you did. The important part was spending uninterrupted time together.
That was why when seven o’clock came and went with no message you found yourself glancing at your phone more often than usual. You weren’t angry not even close, but rather understanding. You knew how demanding football could be. Training sessions ran over recovery work took longer than expected and meetings got added at the last minute. It happened and understood that better than anyone.
As the evening stretched on you couldn’t deny the small knot of disappointment sitting in your chest.
By the time it was ten o’clock, you heard the keys in the door jangle and then suddenly the door was unlocked. You were curled up on the sofa beneath a blanket a film playing quietly in the background. The television cast a soft glow across the room as you looked up and saw Guéla standing in the doorway. His training bag hung from one shoulder, his hair slightly messy from a long day and the moment his eyes landed on you his expression fell.
That’s when he remembered what day it was. It was Thursday. The day you would always have something planned together, but I’m afraid not this time. The guilt was immediate.
“Oh no.” He whispered to himself
You couldn’t help smiling. “What?”
His bag hit the floor.“The date.”
You watched the realisation settle across his face completely. One hand dragged down his features as he closed his eyes for a moment as he shook his head “I forgot.”
The disappointment flickered through you again, but only briefly. You knew he hadn’t done it on purpose. “It’s okay.”
His eyes opened immediately. “No, it’s not.”
“Guéla.”
“I’m serious.”
You stood and crossed the room stopping directly in front of him. Up close he looked exhausted. The kind of exhausted that came from spending an entire day being pulled in ten different directions.
“You’ve been busy,” you said softly. “I know how much you’ve had on this week.” You ran a finger tracing his features softly. “Trust me Guéla, I know how much work you have to do, it’s okay! I understand that you know I do.”
He shakes his head with guilt “That’s not an excuse.”
“It doesn’t have to be one.”
For a moment neither of you spoke, instead, you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I promise I’m not upset.”
And you weren’t, not really, because you were understanding, and that’s something Guéla loved about you. He know you were always thoughtful and caring, and seeing himself almost betraying you tonight made him feel small.
But Guéla knew you too well, he could see it in your eyes that tiny hint of sadness you hadn’t quite managed to hide. Not because you were angry with him but because you’d genuinely been looking forward to seeing him and that somehow made him feel even worse.
The next day the image of the glint of sadness on your face last night stayed with him. No matter what he was doing he kept remembering the way you’d smiled and told him it was okay. The way you’d immediately tried to make him feel better despite being the one who’d been let down. Most people would have been annoyed but youhad simply been understanding.
By the time training finished Guéla had made up his mind.If he couldn’t give you date night yesterday he’d make today unforgettable.
When you got home that evening you immediately knew something was different. The hallway lights were dimmed and soft fairy lights glowed throughout the living room. Their warm golden light reflected against the walls making the entire house feel cosy and intimate. Your eyes widened as you stepped inside, spotting small handwritten notes scattered around the room.
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “What on earth…” you whispered to yourself smiling.
The first note sat on the console table.
Open me first.
You picked it up and inside was a memory: a tiny story about your first date. By the time you’d finished reading, another note was waiting nearby.
Then another.
And another.
And another!
Each one led you through a different chapter of your relationship, the first holiday you’d taken together, the first inside joke, the first time he’d introduced you to his family and the most ridiculous argument you’d had over directions because neither of you wanted to admit you were lost. You found yourself smiling wider with every note. Your face was expressed with quiet laughter and occasionally wiping away suspiciously emotional tears.
By the time you reached the final note, your chest felt warm.The handwriting was instantly recognisable of course.
Thank you for always understanding me, even when I don’t deserve it.
You stared at the words for a moment before looking up. Guéla stood at the opposite side of the room flowers in one hand and a nervous smile on his face. For someone so confident on a football pitch, he suddenly looked remarkably unsure of himself. “Well?” he asked.
Your eyes immediately filled with tears. “Oh, you’re in trouble.”
His face dropped. “What?”
You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him before he could say anything else. He let out a surprised laughquickly pulling you against his chest as you buried your face in his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous,” you mumbled.
“I know.”
“You didn’t have to do all this.”
His arms tightened around you slightly. “I wanted to.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. You pulled back just enough to look at him. “One missed date night wasn’t the end of the world.”
“I know.”
“Then why do all this?”
A small smile appeared on his face because to him the answer was obvious. “Because you’re important to me.”
The room suddenly felt very quiet, no awkwardness, just love warmth and comfort. “I love you.” He muttered with his lips pressed against your head as he applied small strokes to your hair.
You smiled up at him and for the first time since the night before, the guilt finally disappeared from his expression. The date night had been missed but either way you’re standing there wrapped in each other’s arms with fairy lights glowing around the room and years of memories written in his own handwriting, it felt like the most meaningful date you’d ever had.
“I love you too.” You said as you tip toed to match his height to kiss his lips.
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By Saturday afternoon, Michael found himself grateful for the familiarity of football. Over the past few weeks, his life had become divided into two completely separate worlds. One consisted of lawyers, timelines, legal strategy and questions he was forced to answer repeatedly. The other was football, training sessions, match preparation, tactical meetings and the routine he had followed for years. Out of the two, football was by far the easier place to exist.
But everything surrounding it remained familiar.Training schedules, team meetings, match preparation, the same dressing room he’d walked into hundreds of times before, the same teammates discussing tactics, joking around, arguing over music choices and making predictions about the afternoon’s game. It was normal. And after weeks of legal meetings, timelines, evidence files and media speculation, normal felt surprisingly refreshing.
As Michael stepped into Bayern’s dressing room before kick-off, nobody looked at him differently. Nobody whispered, nobody asked uncomfortable questions and most importantly nobody mentioned Fati. In fact, nobody knew.
The case existed in an entirely separate part of his life. A world that began when he walked into Y/N’s office and disappeared the moment he stepped onto a football pitch. For ninety minutes there were no allegations, only football, and that’s how Michael preferred it.
The atmosphere before the match against Mainz was relaxed but focused. Bayern sat comfortably near the top of the table, but complacency wasn’t something their manager tolerated. The team meeting that morning had been full of reminders about intensity, concentration and avoiding unnecessary mistakes.
The Mewa Arena felt exactly as it always did on an away match day. Across the room Harry Kane was discussing set pieces with a coach. Everything felt ordinary and Michael found himself appreciating that more than usual. Mainz weren’t expected to win in which, according to the coaching staff made them dangerous. Football had a habit of punishing teams who underestimated opponents.
As the players walked out of the tunnel the stadium erupted into noise. Thousands of supporters filled the stands a sea of colours mainly red and white stretching across the arena. Michael glanced around briefly as the teams lined up. This was the world people associated him with. Not lawyers or courtrooms or legal disputes, just football.
The referee’s whistle blew. The match began. Unfortunately for Bayern, so did Mainz.
From the opening minutes, the away side played with an energy that immediately caused problems. Every loose ball was contested. Every challenge was followed through. Mainz took over as the fierce and brave home team who were dominating the first half so far.
The first warning sign came after ten minutes, the second came five minutes later and in the fifteenth minute, Mainz found their breakthrough. A corner swung into the box created chaos in Bayern’s defence. The ball bounced between several players before eventually falling kindly to Dominik Kohr, making action to the first half of the game as he was already the first goal scorer of today’s match, his finish was instinctive and powerful.
1-0.
The stadium erupted and Michael immediately turned and jogged back towards the halfway line. Annoying but not disastrous. There was plenty of football left, after all it was only the 15th minute, at least that’s what he told himself.
Fourteen minutes later things became worse…
Mainz broke quickly down the left side before cutting the ball back towards Paul Nebel. The midfielder took one touch and drove a low effort into the corner.
2-0.
Michael stared at the scoreboard, only twenty-nine minutes played so far with Bayern only goals behind. Around him Bayern players exchanged frustrated looks. This wasn’t part of the plan. He thought. Wait a minute, is it me? Am I the problem? Is it because I’ve been too hooked up on the court case that I’ve suddenly forgot how to kick a ball? He shook his head to snap out of his thoughts.
Football rarely cared about plans, the remainder of the first half became increasingly frustrating. Bayern dominated possession but struggled to create clear opportunities. Every attack seemed to break down at the final moment.
Then, right before halftime, disaster struck again. Mainz counterattacked from a Bayern corner with the move happening quickly. Too quickly. An assist slipped a pass through to Silvan Becker who calmly finished past the goalkeeper.
3-0 to Mainz.
The stadium exploded once more. Fans erupted with happiness and content to express their proudness for the winning home team.
Meanwhile, Michael stood frozen for a moment. Three goals. Three. How were we suppose to comeback?
The referee’s whistle for halftime arrived shortly afterwards. Bayern walked off the pitch to scattered boos from their travelling supporters.
Inside the dressing room the atmosphere was tense. Nobody needed reminding how bad the scoreline looked.
Vincent Kompany’s frustration was obvious, however beneath the anger was belief because despite everything forty-five minutes remained and bayern had too much quality to simply accept defeat.
The number 3-0 seemed almost impossible considering how the first half had unfolded. Boots scraped against the floor as players returned to their seats. A few stared down at the ground. Others pulled at their socks or reached for water bottles without saying a word. Michael sat near the corner of the room, elbows resting on his knees as he replayed the half in his head. Mistakes.Too many mistakes.
Across from him, Jamal Musiala looked equally frustrated. Harry Kane sat with a towel draped around his shoulders, breathing heavily.Nobody spoke as the silence stretched until the dressing room door opened.
Vincent Kompany stepped inside but he didn’t slam the door nor did he shout. In fact, his calmness was what immediately drew everyone’s attention. The manager stood in the centre of the room for a moment, looking at each player individually before finally speaking.
“Look at me.” The room obeyed instantly Kompany folded his arms. “Three goals.His voice remained steady. “That’s what separates us from them right now.”
Nobody interrupted. “Not effort.” He pointed towards the pitch outside. “Not talent. Another pause. “Three goals.” The manager slowly walked across the room. “I’ve been in football long enough to know what happens in situations like this.” His gaze moved between players. “Some teams accept it. Silence. “Some teams start feeling sorry for themselves.” More silence. “Some teams walk back out there already defeated.” He shook his head. “That’s not us.” The words landed heavily.
Kompany stopped directly in front of the tactical board. “I don’t care about the score.”Several players looked up. The statement sounded ridiculous of course the score mattered but Kompany continued before anyone could question it. “What I care about is the next forty-five minutes.” His voice grew firmer. “The next pass.” The board. “The next tackle.” The players.“The next run.” Then finally:“The next goal.”
Michael felt something shift inside the room. Not confidence exactly but belief, hope even, knowing he can prove himself wrong, prove himself he can be the best to his ability.
Kompany pointed towards the Bayern badge on his training top. “You think this match is over?” Nobody answered. “Good.” Because if anyone did think that, they probably wouldn’t have lasted long at Bayern. The manager took a step forward. “One goal changes everything.” His eyes settled briefly on Michael. Then Musiala. Then Kane. “One.” The room remained completely still. “Get one goal and this stadium becomes nervous. Another pause.“Get two goals and they start panicking.” Now the players were listening differently leaning forward and focused. “Get three and suddenly all the pressure is on them.”
For the first time all afternoon, Michael could actually picture it. The possibility of making a comeback with the momentum shifting, Kompany nodded slowly. “You don’t need three goals right now.” His voice lowered.“You need one.”
The simplicity of it made sense. Nobody was asking them to win the game immediately. Just take the next step, then the next, then the next.
The manager looked around the room one final time. “I’ve seen players in this room do things much harder than coming back from three goals.” His expression hardened. “So stop acting like the match is finished.”
A few players smiled and some others at up straighter. The energy was changingslowly but undeniably, Kompany clapped his hands once. “Forty-five minutes.” The room echoed with the sharp sound. “Show me who you are.”
And for the first time since Mainz’s third goal hit the back of the net, Michael found himself wanting to get back onto the pitch. Not because he believed they would win but because he believed they still could.
There was a difference and sometimes in football that difference was everything.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
The second half began with greater urgency. More feelings of interest with an increase in rapid movements with more purpose, finally, Bayern looked like Bayern.
The breakthrough arrived in the fifty-third minute. A quick passing sequence opened space near the edge of the box. Nicolas Jackson reacted first, driving a powerful shot beyond the goalkeeper.
3-1.
It wanst enough but it was most certainly a good start. The goal changed the momentum completely. Suddenly Mainz looked nervous. The crowd of the home team sounded less confident and Bayern sensed this as an opportunity, Michael felt it too.
Football had momentum swings that were almost impossible to explain, you simply recognised them when they happened. The game was turning. For twenty minutes Bayern pushed relentlessly with wave after wave of attacks forced Mainz deeper into their own half.
Then came the moment. The seventy-third minute. Laimer collected possession in midfield before sliding a perfectly weighted pass into space, Michael saw the gap instantly. His first touch carried him beyond the defender. The second pushed the ball into shooting range.
Everything slowed, there was one defender, one goalie and one terrific opportunity. Michael struck through the ball cleanly. The shot flew low into the far corner.
Goal.
3-2.
His fists clenched automatically as adrenaline surged through him with the away supporters erupted. Teammates surrounded him almost immediately. Cheering, screaming and jumping were certainly movements witnessed with the Bayern team. It was currently 3-2, they still had hope, a good chance even to equalise the final score, or potentially even to win this match once and for all.
For the first time all evening Bayern truly believed. As Michael jogged back towards the centre circle his heartbeat thundered in his ears.
3-2.
Game on.
The equaliser arrived seven minutes later.Musiala, oh course it was Musiala… assisted by Olise!!! The attacking midfielder danced through a crowded penalty area before calmly slotting home.
3-3.
The comeback was complete… or least for now. Mainz looked stunned as Bayern looked relentless. The difference between the two sides had completely reversed. What had seemed impossible thirty minutes earlier suddenly felt inevitable.
Bayern Fans were screaming and kicking, proud scarfs of red and white, presenting Bayern this time waved in the air commemorating such a hectic game yet a spectacular display the Bayern team out on for their fans. It’s now or never to win this once and for all.
Then came the winner. Eighty-third minute. A dangerous cross found Harry Kane inside the penalty area. Of course it was Harry. The striker needed only one touch. The net rippled.
4-3.
Complete chaos erupted. Bayern players sprinted towards the corner flag. Supporters roared the bench with the substitutes emptied as they all ran towards the on field players to celebrate such a chaotic game they were able to make a comeback in.
Michael found himself laughing as teammates piled onto one another in celebration.From three goals down to 4-3 ahead. Football was ridiculous sometimes and that was precisely why people loved it.
When the final whistle eventually arrived, Bayern players collapsed onto the pitch in relief. It hadn’t been pretty and It certainly hadn’t been comfortable but after all it was three points.
As Michael applauded the travelling supporters his thoughts briefly drifted elsewhere. To another world entirely: A world filled with legal documents, timelines and strategy meetings. A world where Y/N was probably still reviewing files long after normal working hours. The thought surprised him because for most of the afternoon, he hadn’t thought about the case at all. Not once and maybe that was exactly why football mattered so much.
It gave him somewhere to escape it’s like a place where nothing else existed, just having the ball and the game and the ninety minutes of freedom. For now the legal battle could wait until Monday but tonight was simply a footballer.
And Bayern had just completed one hell of a comeback.
warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, repost from my own blog.
word count: 1.8k
notes: please reblog.
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A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)
jamal is very soft after sex. it doesn't matter whether the sex was rough or soft, he'll always take care of you afterwards. whether it's getting a warm washcloth and cleaning you up, or running you a bath, where you can both soak for an hour, he's always there to make sure you're okay and to make sure that he's not working your body too hard.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of themselves and their partner)
his favourite body part is his arms. you're always telling him how safe you feel in his arms. always wanting him to cuddle you after sex, and it's usually cuddles, where you're wrapped up close to his body, that leads to the two of you having sex in the first place. he also always ends up with scratches on his biceps from where you have gripped them during missionary.
his favourite body part on you is your face. he's always caressing your face. softly touching his fingers to your face, brushing your hair out of your face so he can see all of you during sex. he also loves gripping your chin in his hands, guiding your lips to his, so you can make out during the deed.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
he loves cumming on you. whether it's your boobs or your ass, he loves claiming you as his. but he is always quick to clean you up, knowing that you wouldn't want the sticky liquid on your body for too long.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
he loves fucking you in his jersey. he loves seeing his name on your back because it always makes his mind wander to when, hopefully, in the future, you are finally sharing his last name.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
he's as experienced as you. you've been each other's first everything, being together from the age of fifteen. you've learnt everything about each other together, knowing each other's bodies inside out. no, he's not the most experienced with other people, but he knows how to pleasure you to the maximum, but that's all he cares about anyway. he's never wanted anyone else, and neither have you.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
either missionary or doggy. two very simple positions. one that you use when you want to be more intimate and want to feel each other close, your sweaty bodies sticking together as he thrusts slow and deep into you. the other is used when he wants to provide you with as much pleasure as possible. if you're going rough this is the position that you will use, but you can also use it when you want to go a bit slower as well, and you still get just as much out of it.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
there are times when the two of you can be quite goofy. you have been together a long time and have known each other even longer, so you know what will make each other laugh. but it's never either one or the other, you usually both crack a joke here and there, and he loves it when he sees you smile, but you can also pretty quickly get back into the mood, as the pleasure takes over your body.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
it's just groomed. there's not much hair there, but what he does have he keeps nice and neat.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
jamal likes to make things very romantic every now. he's always taking notes of what you've liked, for example, wherever you go and stay in a hotel together, he always makes sure to get rose petals on the bed, knowing how much you loved it the first time he did it. the more romantic he is, the better the sex seems to be, taking as much time as you want to focus on each other's body, giving each other as much pleasure as you possibly can.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn't masturbate as much as he did in his early teenage years, but he surely does masturbate, just as everyone does. but he usually does it when he's in the hotel at an away game, or away on an international break. whenever he does it, you're always at the forefront of his mind, and he even sometimes facetimes you, needing your presence in the room with him, even if it's just through a screen.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
i feel like he'd have a breeding kink. mainly because he sees a future with you, and wants to marry you and have children with you, so that desire ends up leading him to want to put a baby inside you, even though you're both still young and you're not going to be having children anytime soon.
L = Location (favourite places to do they do)
because he's on the move so much, you'll pretty much do it anywhere. you'll make sure that you do it in your bed, or a bed, as often as possible. whether it's in the car, or the shower in the morning before he goes training, you're always in the mood, and neither of you is too picky about the place.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
just spending time with you. sex between you and jamal can stem from anything. you could be just cuddled up on the sofa together, or wearing your bikini by the pool, either will get him going in some way. but you just being near him in any capacity is enough to get him turned on.
N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn-offs)
anything that could hurt you. he doesn't want to work your body too hard, let alone hurt you. so the use of harder toys is a big no-no. you did ask him to choke you slightly once, and after a lot of convincing, he spent the majority of the time making sure that you were okay, and asking you if he wasn't hurting you too much.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
jamal loves receiving oral, but he loves giving it much more. he loves seeing you writhe beneath him, and the way your hand immediately finds his hair. he loves looking up at you, watching his name tumble over your lips, knowing that he's the one who is making you feel so good.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
it completely depends on the day, and what mood he's in. It's mainly on the slower, sensual side, because he spends so much time away, and is usually quite tired, so he wants to make sure that he's just as close to you as possible. but there is the odd occasion when he'll go harder, the two of you spending a passion-filled night beneath the sheets.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
you both very much enjoy quickies. sometimes they're just necessary, especially when the two of you are so busy, but you want to be close to each other. so they usually happen in the morning just before jamal leaves for training, or even sometimes after a game in the changing rooms if you're feeling a little risky.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
as i just said, you take a lot of risks based on location. but in regards to whether jamal is willing to try anything new in the bedroom, he'll pretty much do whatever you feel comfortable doing, and is always willing to try new things, as long as it doesn't bring you any harm.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
he's young, and a professional footballer, so he can go for quite some time. but he still is only twenty years old, so there are always the days when he doesn't last as long, but he will always make sure you cum, regardless of how long he lasts.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
he's used toys on you a couple of times, vibrators and things. but apart from that he doesn't use any others, and if he does use something, he doesn't use them often, because he doesn't need to. and you're not used to using toys unless jamal isn't there with you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
he likes to tease a little bit, but it's more a playful tease than anything. you've known each other for so long, and you are so comfortable around each other, that both of you will often make a comment or two during the act. he also knows your body inside out, so it's not uncommon that he will prevent you from an orgasm now and then, but you know that the prevention won't last long anyway.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
he's vocal, but i wouldn't say he's loud. it's usually just whimpers and telling you how good you're making him feel. but there are days when he is louder than others.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
he loves it when you initiate things, especially when it leads to you taking control over him. when you just climb onto his lap and kiss down his neck, he knows exactly what's coming, and will immediately submit to you.
X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)
it's a decent size, and very durable. not too big, not too small. it's just big enough that he can give you as much pleasure as you could want, but not that big that it will end up leaving you sore for days after.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
quite high, he is a twenty-year-old man after all. but it's not the biggest part of your relationship, but you both have a very healthy sex life. always making time for each other in that sense, but understanding that it doesn't need to be something you do every day, but you'll just make sure that you're having sex whenever you both want it.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
it depends on how hard he's worked, but he usually prefers to cuddle with you afterwards, talking with you. if you have the time, he also loves to have a bath before you end up going to bed, so you can stay in the warm water, your back against his chest, just keeping your bodies as close as you can, before you both enter a deep slumber.
