KISS ME BETTER;
⤷ ゛masterlist ˎˊ˗
michael olise x f!reader.
dating.
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you don't like the way he kisses you when he comes home.
you hear the front door open slowly, the click echoing through your apartment. michael steps inside, his footsteps lazy and heavy like he’s barely bothering to lift his feet.
he drops his kit bag right there in the hallway not even caring where it lands. the match had been long and you can see it.
he walks into the bedroom like he has all the time in the world, even though it’s past midnight. his eyes find you lying in bed wearing nothing but one of his oversized training shirts.
a small, tired smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“hey you,” he says as he leans down, cups your cheek with one hand and gives you a quick, light peck on the lips, then he straightens up again like that’s enough.
before he can turn away, you reach out and grab the front of his hoodie, pulling him back toward you.
“kiss me better,” you whisper, eyes locked on his.
“you’re serious?” he asks.
you nod. “very.”
he exhales softly, like you just asked him for more than he thought he had left but he doesn’t refuse.
one of his knee sinks into the mattress, then the other, until he’s hovering over you. his hand slides up your thigh under the shirt.
he lowers himself gradually, letting you feel his weight settle on you bit by bit.
this time when his mouth meets yours, it’s deeper. his lips part yours slowly, tongue sliding in like he’s savoring every second. he tastes like mint and that faint sweetness he always has after matches.
he pulls back just enough to breathe against your lips, forehead resting lightly on yours, then he kisses you again.
“you know i’m exhausted, right?” he whispers against your mouth between kisses, but there’s no complaint in his tone. “yet here you are making me put in extra work with that ‘kiss me better’ shit.” he murmurs, calm.
you smile against his lips, then kiss him again.
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