𝒁𝑶𝑹𝑨𝒀𝑼 ` ♡

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

The door opened slowly, not with a bang—with a soft groan that told you it was old and probably needed some love.

You barely glanced up from the couch, the room was warm and dim, lit only by the amber glow of a single, old lamp and the flicker of a candle you had lit just a few minutes ago to make the room more cozy.

You were wearing one of his hoodies, a thick blanket over your legs as you half watched some show rolling on the tv.

Michael stood in the hallway for a moment, looking tall and totally wrecked by the heat—his braids a sweaty mess beneath the Bayern München training kit.

The skin under his eyes almost looked bruised from exhaustion and you couldn't help but feel bad for him, but as he saw you his expression changed.

He didn't magically stop looking tired—he was Michael, he usually did. But something in the tiredness shifted, softened.

Almost as if you were the only person in the world who could make it tolerable.

He dropped his sports bag and walked over wordlessly and you sat up, opening your arms as he collapsed into you with a sigh.

Into your lap, face buried against your chest, one arm around your waist, the other underneath the hem of your, his hoodie.

– "Hi baby" you whispered, he groaned, – "Don't call me that"

You laughed, stroking his arm softly over the ink of his tattoos.

He mumbled something against your chest, – "I'm so tired, training was ass"

Wow, what a choice of wording.

You kissed the top of his head, he always pretended like it was embarassing when you babied him like this.

But you knew that he secretly loved it, or else he would've told you to stop long ago.

– "I didn’t score a single goal," he begun, "I just kept losing the fucking ball" he lifted his right hand, attempting to make a gesture to explain better. "It felt as if the ball was covered in soap, you don't even understand"

You traced the edge of a small tattoo on his arm with your finger, – "want me to make you something?"

– "no," he murmured, "i only want you."

You felt the shift in his body before you noticed it, the subtle change in how he held you, how his hands dragged up your side, how his thigh pressed between yours.

And his voice had that scratch to it, his hips shifted again, slowly, almost involuntarily.

You pulled back slowly and looked at him, his eyes met yours.

You smiled, – "Michael are you being serious?" Your voice had a funny detail in it.

He smiled back, – "I know" his voice quiet and soft, the kind that he only dared to use whenever he was alone with you. "I should cry or something, start looking for new clubs cause they won't fucking want me anymore but—" he continued.

You laughed softly, – "You're impossible"

He groaned into your neck, – "I swear, joke as much as you want but i'm being for real"

Your thighs pressed together instinctively.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Something in his eyes darkened in that exact moment, his voice dropping just a little lower. – "come here"

You moved to straddle his lap, one knee on either side of his tattooed thighs.

He exhaled through his nose, hard, hands sliding up under the hem of your hoodie.

His thumb brushed your ribs, your hips, he didn't even look down—just held you like something sacred.

You kissed him, slow and open mouthed, tongue brushing his before slipping inside.

He moaned into it, large hand rising to cradle the back if your head.

– "Let me take care of you" you whispered, pulling away slightly from him.

He blinked, – "What?"

Oh he knew.

You slid off his lap, onto the floor, onto your knees.

His breath hitched, – "fuck, what are you doing"

You looked up at him from below, – "Just let me take care of you this once"

He stared at you for a moment—as if he was falling in love all over again.

You tugged his sweats down slowly, his cock was already half hard and resting against his stomach.

He twitched at your touch, then again when your lips finally brushed against his skin.

He moaned low in his chest, legs falling open for you.

You let your tongue drag from the base up, slow and soft, one hand curled around him, the other bracing his thigh.

His hand found your hair immediately—like always, not tugging, just anchoring himself.

– "Fuck" he groaned, "needed you so bad"

You took him in deeper, slow and steady and he shuddered at your touch.

He let out a moan that sounded like he was unravelling, – "fuck.. there.. keep going"

He came hard, gasping your name, hips jerking once. You swallowed, licking him clean, pressing soft kisses to the inside of his thigh.

You'd usually leave some marks, but due to the intense heat you knew that he'd want to wear shorts and therefor chose not too.

Just to be safe.

You climbed back into his lap, his arms wrapped around you instantly. – "fuck, you know what you're doing" he whispered, leaving a kiss to your forehead.

You giggled softly, – "Well.. i've done it quite a few times now" you teased.

He scoffed, – "oh shut up," he begun, "maybe i'll have to make it up to you then."

You smiled, – "yeah? You sure?" You grinned teasingly.

He kissed you again, – "i'd never lie." His hand slid down, past your waist, his eyes found yours, a silent question.

You nodded, words were not needed between the two of you.

He'd understand either way.

He kissed you again, lazily, as if he had all the time in the world.

He pulled the blanket down your body, slowly, his eyes following every inch of skin he uncovered.

He knelt between your legs on the couch, almost too tall between the space as he gently pulled your underwear down your thighs.

He kissed the inside of your thigh, just above the crease, then the other. His hands held your legs open, firm but tender, thumb brushing your skin with slow circles.

You saw the tattoos curling against his lower arm, and then he lowered his mouth to you.

The first brush of his tongue was barely there, just a taste. Then again, slower this time, he groaned softly as he licked you.

You gasped, hips lifting softly.

He didn't rush, didn't stop, he kissed you slow and open, tongue dragging in slow, steady patterns.

Every flick, every suck calibrated to your breath, to your hands in his hair and your shaking thighs.

He sighed softly when you moaned—as if he had been waiting for that sound.

He slid one hand under your thigh and pulled you closer to him, deeper into his mouth.

His nose brushed against your skin, his fingers holding you firm as he devoured you with that same slow, confident focus he had on the pitch.

Like he was waiting to score.

And he scored faster than you expected, you gripped his hair, back arching, thighs clenching around his head as you cried out his name—but he didn't stop, his hands stroking your hips as he kept licking you through your orgasm.

When it was too much, when your thighs trembled and you didn't know what to do with yourself, you tugged at his hair.

He came up slowly, face flushed, lips swollen.

– "fuck" you panted, "you know what you're doing" you spoke, mimicking his earlier words.

He smiled, – "well, i've done it quite a few times now"

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

when you told désiré about the tiktok trend, he immediately regretted agreeing. you didn't do it at sephora because he was famous and it would be impossible. so instead, you did in at home.

“if you can’t pronounce the makeup brand, you have to buy it for me.”

“that’s a scam,” he stared at you.

“it’s a trend.”

you were already setting up your phone and take his to googling the makeup brands.

“i haven’t agreed yet.”

“you said yes earlier.”

“i was distracted!”

“that’s not my problem.”

he sighed as you pressed record.

“okay, first one.”

you turned the phone toward him.

“charlotte... til... tilberly?”

you immediately laughed and désiré frowned.

“that’s not what it’s called?”

“tilberly?”

“that’s a difficult word!”

“it’s literally a person’s name.”

“well she should’ve picked an easier one.”

he already looked concerned. “how much is this going to cost me?”

“next one.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“next one!”

he groaned as you showed him another brand. he looked at you.

“surely that’s a trick.”

“just say it.”

“...nars?”

“correct.”

“yes!” his face lit up.

you rolled your eyes. “calm down.”

“i’m back.”

you showed him another.

“fenty beauty.”

“that’s correct.”

his mouth fell open.

“WHAT?” he stood up.

“i’m actually cracked at this game.”

“don’t get cocky.”

“too late.”

you turned the phone toward him.

“rare beauty.”

“correct.”

“obviously.”

you showed him another brand.

“fenty beauty.”

“correct.”

“too easy.”

he was smiling now, completely relaxed and confident.

slowly, you revealed the screen for the last one.

his eyes narrowed and he sat up straighter.

“huda... houda..? beauty”

you blinked, disoriented.

“let’s go!” his grin widened.

“wait, you actually got it.”

unfortunately for you. he’d gotten more right than wrong which meant your shopping spree had become significantly smaller than expected.

désiré noticed your disappointment immediately and started laughing.

“you’re upset.”

“i’m not.”

“you thought i was paying for everything.”

you glared and he laughed even harder.

eventually you stopped recording.

the video was done, the challenge over and désiré looked entirely too proud of himself.

“i can’t believe you studied.”

he gasped. “accusing me of cheating?”

“yes.”

“i’m offended.”

he moved closer on the couch still looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

he casually wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“even if i’d failed every single one i would’ve bought them anyway.”

your heart betrayed you immediately because he said it so casually like it was obvious.

you tried to hide your smile but failed and désiré noticed.

he knew exactly what that sentence had done to you, which was unfortunate because now he’d be insufferable about it for at least three weeks.

it all started a week ago, your phone buzzed on the other side of the bedside table.

Good news, you thought.

Your childhood bestfriend had returned to town, all he asked was to go out for a coffee. Completely innocent, your thumb hoovered over the screen of your phone for a moment before you typed an answer:

Yeah sure, i'll see u tomorrow at 3 pm?

Three dots appeared immediately:

Sounds great, send me the adress, it's a big town 😅

You scoffed at the choice of wording and emojis, oh he had always been a little older mentally than physically. But that was what made him so fun to be around.

That was part of what made him a good friend. Of what made him, him.

Your biggest mistake that night was not telling Desire, who was scrolling on his phone beside you, one hand on your thigh. Completely obvious to who you were texting.

To what you were planning.

The next day came quickly, you fell asleep in Desire's lap and woke up a few hours later to him leaving for practice.

You groaned as he left you alone in the bed, the cold morning air quickly hitting your skin as the warmth from his body disappeared.

He disappeared for a few minutes, probably eating breakfast and getting ready. You could hear the toaster pop in the kitchen.

And then he walked into your bedroom again, already wearing his training kit. – "Remember that we have that team meeting later, I won’t be home until 5 pm" he spoke, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and then one just as soft to your lips.

You sighed, melting into his touch. – "Mhm, i'll miss you"

He laughed, – "I'll miss you too, I love you." He added before walking towards the door.

You inhaled, shifting under the covers. – "I love you too"

– "I'll see you later"

And then the front door closed with a thud, you sat up in the bed. Mindlessly opening instagram, scrolling through a few posts. Thumb hoovering over the messages icon.

You hated opening your dms, they were always filled with hate towards you. Calling you a slut or a golddigger, you supposed that was what came with dating Desire Doue.

But you hated it, and it hurt you more than you would like to admit.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

The walk to the coffee shop was short, but it felt longer than any other walk. And the entire time you felt a sense of guilt, guilt for not telling Desire.

You actually didn’t know why you didn't tell him, nothing was going on between you and your friend. And with all your secrecy you made it seem as if he had you sprawled on his bed every night.

You quickly brushed the thought away, nothing was going on. This coffee date was completely innocent, just two friends catching up after not meeting for years.

And infact, your friend knew that you dated Desire. He knew that this was completely platonic, so there was nothing to worry about.

You met him at the entrance, he gave you a quick hug before you walked inside, choosing a table in the corner. Far away from everyone else.

You talked for hours, laughed, remembered old silly things from your childhood. And you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so nostalgic.

It was like he unlocked memories you didn’t know you had.

He also asked about Desire, how the two of you met, if he still was playing for PSG, and of course, if you were happy.

You were, oh you were.

Happier than you had been in a while.

You left the café with a big smile on your face. You hadn't had that much fun in awhile, especially not now that Desire was training so much.

Always on the pitch, and whenever he came home he'd be exhausted. Not having the energy to do anything other than cuddle in bed and watch stupid shows on netflix.

Not that you complained, but you had missed going out.

Just something as simple as going for a coffee made you happy, that was all it took.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Desire was already home when you stepped through the door. And you could immediately sense the bad energy in the air.

– "Where have you been?" He asked, leaning against the wall. Arms crossed over his chest.

You inhaled, breath a little shaky. – "Just out for coffee with a friend"

The truth.

He nodded, licking his lips. – "Yeah? Just a friend." Oh he did not believe you.

Oh.

– "Yes. Do you— do you think i'm lying?" You spoke, completely caught off guard by his demeanor.

He always believed you.

– "I don't know, do friends hug like that?" He spoke, a sigh escaping his lips. And he sounded hurt, truly hurt.

You frowned, – "I.. Desire what are you talking about?"

He rolled his eyes slightly, and the lump in your throat only grew bigger. – "You tell me"

His words coiled in the air for a moment, you didn't know what to say. You grabbed your phone from your pocket, finding his eyes for reassurance, he nodded.

99+ notifications. 99+ messages. 99+ emails.

It almost felt as if your heart stopped beating when you opened twitter and saw the picture of you and your friend.

Someone had taken a photo of you during your one second short hug, the completely innocent one.

And somehow, whoever took the picture made the hug seem like so much more than it was.

So much more.

And suddenly you understood why Desire was so mad.

How did you get out of this?

– "It's not what it looks like" you spoke, voice low, barely audible.

Tears threatened to fall down your face, but you resisted.

How pathetic were you.

– "Oh no it's not?" He raised an eyebrow, "cause to me it looks like you hugged him. A long, warm hug. The kind you only give someone you love, someone you.. want"

No. No, no, no.

A single tear fell down your cheek.

Was this the moment you'd lose the love of your life? Because of a silly misunderstanding? Because of being unlucky?

– "The picture is wrong" you whispered.

He took a step closer, – "what? Speak louder."

You took a deep breath, – "The picture is wrong. That was the most innocent hug ever. I would never cheat on you" you spoke, quickly realizing how pathetic you sounded.

– "Who even is he?" His voice was sharp, he was mad, hurt. A mix of everything inbetween.

Jealous.

You blinked, – "He's just a friend, we were neighbours as kids."

Desire glanced at you for a moment, then at the floor, – "are.. are you in love with him?"

You shook your head quickly, – "No.. no. He's just a friend" you begun, taking a shaky breath inbetween. "No, I only want you"

He looked at you, trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not. – "Why wouldn’t you tell me that you were seeing him?"

You sighed, – "Oh I don't know. I'm so sorry. You can see our messages if you want, I promise you, nothing is going on between us"

He nodded, something softening in his eyes. – "It's okay, I believe you, It's just.. why wouldn’t you tell me?"

– "I don't know, I already told you, I—" you paused for a moment, thinking. "I have no idea, perhaps I was scared that you wouldn’t believe me. I thought it was a better idea to just not tell you at all."

He sighed.

Your voice cracked, – "I know.. it's stupid, it's so stupid." And then the tears escaped your eyes, and it felt as if he could see straight through you.

As if he could see all of you.

Even your soul.

He took a step closer, opening his arms, pulling you towards him. – "It's okay, I believe you." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "I believe you"

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, heavt sobs getting muffled by his skin. – "You don’t have to"

He laughed, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. – "I do.. it's okay" he kissed you again. "But I would love to see those messages"

Your sobs quickly turned into giggles, – "Of course. I'm sorry, I love you so much"

He nodded again, – "I know, I love you too"