#olise

[fabioquartararhoe]

the woman was to stunned to speak

[bobskysworld]

Can you write olise x content creator girlfriend. Keep his 'non chalant' façade

he smiles?- Michael Olise

pairing: Olise x content creator!gf

note: 🧍🏾‍♀️struggling to keep it? or keep it?

a “day in the life of a WAG” was the name of your series on tiktok, mainly featuring you, some snippets of Michael during matches and making after a match.

never too long of a video, but kept the audience wanting more.

The camera was set up against the bread bin, you stirred your coffee, deciding to show people how life looked like when Michael had off days during the season. The apartment was quiet, the clinking of your glass echoing off the walls as Michael walked in, dreads swinging with every step as some has slipped out of the bonnet

His arms circled your waist, and his head found your shoulder as you scratched his scalp

“thought you’d get up later” you say softly

“bed was cold” Michael’s voice vibrated

“sorry handsome” you apologise “i had editing to do”

“later” Michael says tugging you towards the door

“i’m filming bébé” you say apologetically

Michael’s head shoots up, finding the camera almost instantly. He pulls away, straightening up, the switch up makes you laugh

“don’t post that” he says “i’m serious”

“oh now i have to” you laugh

“no” Michael protests “that’ll ruin me”

“you mean your little non-chalant gimmick?” you laugh “i have to post this and make a follow up post of all your cute moments baby!”

“YN!” Michael says seriously

you shake your head, kissing him softly before stopping the recording

“i’m doing this for your own good” you say cropping the video

“YN please” Michael says but the video is up and trending within hours

Michael’s phone goes off, like he’s being scouted by the entire Bundesliga, Premier and Laliga agents but it’s the Bayern and French boys clowning him

“you really had to do this to me” Michael groans watching Jamal’s facetime ring for the 4th time

“it’s for your own good bébé”

[dixheuresdix]

SHOT, SCORED;

⤷ ゛masterlist ˎˊ˗

michael olise x f!interviewer!reader

secret dating.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: even when you do your job as an interviewer, michael finds a way to tease you without anyone knowing.

the camera light blinks red, signaling you’re live. you take a deep breath, sitting across from michael in the studio, your notepad on your lap and microphone in hand. it’s just another post-match interview for you or at least, it’s supposed to be.

“big win today,” you start, giving him a professional smile, “how are you feeling after that performance?”

michael leans back in his chair, his usual calm expression in place, eyes flicking to you just briefly before looking at the camera. “yeah… good,” he says, voice quiet, almost lazy. “happy with the three points.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes. that’s it? you’re his girlfriend and he knows how much effort you put into these interviews, but he can’t even give you more than three words?

you clear your throat, forcing a smile as you continue. “you scored the winning goal, michael. can you explain it?”

he shrugs, his lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. “i think wilf passed me the ball. shot. scored.”

your pen almost snaps in your hand. the viewers don’t know, but you do: this is his way of teasing you. he knows how much you care about making the interview flow smoothly, and he’s deliberately giving you nothing.

“right,” you say slowly, tilting your head. “would you say your performance today was thanks to your hard work in training or perhaps a certain someone’s pre-match pep talk?”

at that, his eyes finally meet yours properly "i don't know, maybe the second option." he says while you try to keep a professional facade.

the interview wraps up quickly after that. the moment the cameras stop rolling, you put down your mic and give him a pointed look. “really? that’s how you answer? ‘yeah, good’? ‘shot. scored’?”

michael stands, sliding his hands into his pockets, and tilts his head at you, his voice as casual as ever. “what? that’s how i always talk in interviews.”

“yes, but you don’t have your girlfriend interviewing you every time,” you retort, crossing your arms.

he steps closer, his gaze softening just a bit, though his tone stays lazy. “thought you liked me being chill?”

you sigh, your annoyance slipping as he smirks faintly. “i like it when you’re chill, not when you’re making me work twice as hard on live tv.”

finally, he chuckles under his breath, reaching out to take your hand. “fine. next time, i’ll say something nice. like ‘i dedicated the goal to my girlfriend, who threatened me before the game.’ how’s that?”

you shook your head. “you’re stupid.”

“yeah,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before heading for the exit like he didn’t just drive you crazy for the entire interview.

despite yourself, you’re smiling as you follow him.

you catch up to him as he strolls down the hallway, hands in his pockets, walking like he has all the time in the world. meanwhile, you’re still half-annoyed, half-smiling.

“michael,” you call, quickening your pace. “you can’t just walk away like you didn’t sabotage my whole segment.”

he glances at you, his expression still unreadable, though the corners of his mouth lift ever so slightly. “didn’t sabotage it. people like when i keep it short, makes me mysterious.”

you let out a small laugh despite yourself. “mysterious? you looked like you were seconds away from falling asleep.”

he doesn’t respond or at least, not immediately. instead, he pushes open the door to the parking lot and gestures for you to go first, a small gesture you almost miss because of how casual he makes it.

once you’re outside, he finally turns his head toward you. “so, where are we going? are you still mad at me?”

you raise an eyebrow. “shouldn’t you be the one making plans? you’re the one who made me look like i was pulling teeth on live tv.”

he chuckles quietly, his hand brushing yours as you walk. “fine. dinner, then my treat.”

you eye him skeptically. “dinner? with actual conversation this time? or are you planning to just sit there and shrug at me across the table?”

that earns a faint smirk, and he finally turns to face you properly. “depends. are you going to interview me at the restaurant too?”

you narrow your eyes at him, but there’s a playful edge in your voice. “maybe i will. ‘how do you feel about the bread basket? CARE to elaborate?’”

this time, he actually laughs. a soft, rare sound that makes your annoyance fade entirely.

the two of you reach his car, and he opens the passenger door for you. once you’re inside, he leans down slightly, his voice dropping. “you know i like messing with you, right? it’s… fun.”

you meet his eyes, finally letting a small smile slip. “oh, i know. but one day, you’re going to pay for it on live tv. i’ll make sure of it.”

he grins faintly, shutting the door and walking around to the driver’s side. as the car starts, you can feel the tension between irritation and affection hanging in the air—exactly how it always is with him.

and as you pull away from the stadium, you catch him sneaking a glance at you, his usual calm expression softening for just a second.

the restaurant michael chooses is quiet, dimly lit and tucked away from the usual buzz of the city. it’s the kind of place where people don’t bother asking for photos or autographs, something you’re grateful for after the long day.

you slide into the booth, still eyeing him suspiciously as he takes the seat across from you, looking completely at ease.

“so,” you start, picking up the menu, “are you planning to talk more than three words tonight, or should i just enjoy the food in silence?”

michael leans back, resting one arm on the booth, eyes scanning the menu lazily. “depends,” he says smoothly, “are you going to grill me with questions again?”

you groan, dropping the menu on the table. “i was doing my job. you’re the one who turned it into a game.”

his lips twitch into a faint smirk. “i like watching you get all serious. it’s cute.”

you blink, momentarily thrown off. he says it so casually, like he’s commenting on the weather. no grand gestures, no change in tone—just that same lazy voice that somehow makes your chest warm.

“cute, huh?” you reply, trying to sound unimpressed even as your cheeks heat up. “glad you find my suffering entertaining.”

michael finally meets your gaze, his expression softening just a little. “not your suffering, just you. when you’re all focused like that, it makes me want to mess with you.”

you roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face anyway. “one day, i’m going to get you back in front of everyone.”

he tilts his head, pretending to consider it. “fair but i’ll still win. i always do.”

the waiter arrives, giving you both a moment to cool off as you order. once they leave, there’s a comfortable quiet between you. for a while, you just watch him. how calm he is, how he never seems rushed or worried, even when the world expects so much from him.

“do you ever get nervous?” you ask suddenly, breaking the silence. “before big games? or interviews?”

michael doesn’t answer right away. he leans back, looking at you with that unreadable expression again. then, after a moment, he says, “not really. football’s just football. only thing that gets me nervous sometimes…” he pauses, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than usual. “…is you.”

your breath catches, but before you can respond, the food arrives, breaking the moment. typical michael: dropping something like that and then acting like nothing happened as he picks up his fork.

you shake your head, smiling to yourself.

michael takes a slow bite of his food, his eyes lazily drifting up to meet yours. he doesn’t say anything at first. he just watches you, that same unreadable expression on his face, the one that somehow makes you more aware of every move you make.

after a long moment, he says quietly, “you know… you don’t have to look that serious when you eat. you’re not on camera anymore.”

you raise an eyebrow. “i’m literally just eating.”

he tilts his head slightly, his lips curving into the faintest smirk. “yeah, but you look cute when you’re trying to act like you’re not.”

your fork pauses midair. “michael,” you warn, narrowing your eyes.

“what?” he asks, voice smooth as ever, feigning innocence. “i’m just saying. not my fault my girlfriend looks good even when she’s mad at me.”

you shake your head, biting back a smile. “you’re ridiculous. you spend the whole interview acting like you don’t care about anything, and now suddenly you’re all charming?”

michael leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking with yours. “i was saving it for later. for you.”

the way he says it makes your chest tighten. you try to hide it, taking another sip of your drink. “you’re so annoying,” you mutter, but your voice lacks conviction.

he smirks again, leaning back in his seat, clearly pleased with himself. “you love it.”

for a moment, you both eat in silence, but then he speaks again, his tone even more casual, as if he’s asking about the weather. “you know, if i score next match… maybe i’ll point to the camera and dedicate it to you. just to make everyone wonder.”

your eyes widen slightly. “you wouldn’t.”

he meets your gaze, that lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “wouldn’t i?”

you narrow your eyes, though you can’t help but smile. “you’re just saying that to see me panic, aren’t you?”

michael shrugs, leaning forward again, his voice dropping a little lower. “maybe. or maybe i just like watching you blush.”

your cheeks heat instantly, and you look down at your plate, trying to mask it. he notices, of course. he notices everything, but doesn’t push. instead, he just leans back again, looking completely unbothered as if he didn’t just turn the whole atmosphere upside down with a few quiet words.

the waiter clears your plates, and you’re left with nothing but your drinks and michael’s infuriatingly calm gaze on you. he’s been teasing you all evening with little comments, but now there’s a shift in the air.

he leans forward, resting his chin on his hand, his voice low and smooth.

“you know… i think i like it when you’re annoyed at me.”

you groan softly, rubbing your forehead. “why am i not surprised?”

“because,” he continues, tilting his head, “you get this look in your eyes. like you’re ready to fight me. it’s cute.”

you cross your arms. “you keep calling me cute like it’s supposed to make up for how annoying you are.”

michael doesn’t move or blink. he just studies you, and then says, almost lazily, “i don’t say it to make up for anything. i say it because it’s true and i like reminding you of that.”

the words, simple as they are, hit harder than they should. your heart does a little flip, and you quickly glance away, trying to hide your reaction.

he notices, of course. he always notices. “blushing again?” he murmurs, his tone teasing but softer now, almost fond.

you let out a breath. “you’re insufferable, you know that?”

michael smirks faintly, leaning back in his chair. “yeah. but you still love me, no?”

later that night, the two of you walk along a quiet street near his apartment. the air is cool, the world hushed, the city lights distant and soft.

for once, michael isn’t teasing. he’s walking beside you, his hand brushing yours every so often until he finally takes it, his fingers lacing with yours without a word.

after a few moments of silence, you glance up at him. “you’re quiet now. no more jokes?”

he looks down at you, his expression unreadable but softer than usual. “not always in the mood to talk,” he says simply.

you study him for a moment, trying to read him. “so what are you in the mood for?”

michael slows his pace, turning slightly to face you under the glow of a streetlamp. he’s still calm, still composed, but there’s a glint in his eyes now.

“just this,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your hand. “walking with you.”

your chest tightens, the simplicity of his words sinking in. he doesn’t do big speeches, doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve but in moments like this, you feel everything he doesn’t say.

you smile softly, leaning your head against his shoulder as you continue walking. he doesn’t say anything else, but his hand tightens gently around yours, a silent promise in his touch.

even though he’ll probably tease you again tomorrow, right now he’s just yours.

dixheuresdix, like and comment <3

[vandevens]

Hi, could you please write a fanfiction about Michael Olise?

Michael and reader (female) sneak away from the championship celebration on the final matchday. They are slipping into a private room away from the other players because reader wants to treat Michael to a special reward for winning both the league title and the Player of the Season award (blowjob, smut, and finishing inside). Furthermore, Michael simply can't keep his hands off reader, as she is wearing a Bayern jersey with his name on it in which she looks indescribably hot.

Sorry if my phrasing is incorrect. English is not my native language.

player of the season ;;

fem!reader x michael olise (bayern munich)

where you reward michael for his achievements throughout the season.

a/n: thank you for the request! slight layout change (dividers removed) bc tumblr is being buggy. hoping to add it back soon

cw smut mdni

————————————

the team was going crazy. yet another bundesliga win and unsurprisingly, michael got player of the season.

you were in on the festivities, standing nearby michael as he got interviewed. you could barely hear what they were asking him over the sound of the crowd celebrating as well.

in the blink of an eye, he was drenched in beer. he was showered two times in a row. you laughed heartily at his expression, akin to that of a dejected wet dog.

the interview soon wrapped up. you quickly went over to michael, murmuring a faint “follow me” before turning around and walking in the direction away from everyone.

and so he did. you followed along, hoping no one would notice the two of you slipping away during the peak of the celebrations. yeah, like the team wouldn’t notice their player of the season and his girlfriend mysteriously disappearing.

once you reached the locker room, you dragged michael into one of the showers, pressing him onto the wall.

“my player of the season,” you hummed, tracing little slow circles on his abs. “you deserve a reward, hmm?”

you pressed your lips onto his, working on pulling down his shorts while doing so. his hand was resting in between your lower back and ass, as if he was deliberating going further down. he let out a muffled groan before eventually deciding to cup your ass through those jeans he liked.

suddenly you were on your knees, directly face-to-face with his clothed erection. somehow his boxers had managed to stay dry in spite of the beer. you pulled his boxers down and his cock sprung out, presenting itself to you in all its glory. he was thick, you knew that. but it felt different in this situation; maybe it was because this was a terrible place to be rewarding him.

you started with his leaking tip, licking up the bead of pre before slowly working your way down. eventually your mouth was full so you just used your hands for his base.

when you started to bob your head up and down, he let out a loud groan and grabbed at your hair, bunching it up into a makeshift ponytail, tugging at it lightly.

he helped to guide your head — it was hard to properly multitask when you had to use both your mouth and your hands.

before you knew it, you felt a few taps at the back of your head. you paused, looking up at him with glossy eyes and puffy lips. he let out a sigh before moving his hips on his own, giving you a quick face-fuck before pulling out and coming all over your face.

it was indeed a sight to see. your face covered in his cum… it turned him on even more than he already was.

he helped you up before flipping the two of you around, making sure you were the one pinned onto the wall. facing the wall too. he wanted to see your back… specifically your name on his back. it was such a turn on to see you wearing his name.

he smashed his lips onto yours while swiftly undoing the buttons on your jeans and aligning himself with you.

you felt wetness actively pooling in between your legs as he practically manhandled you.

before you could even register what was happening, michael thrust into you with one movement, rocking his hips back and forth while holding yours. you leaned your head against the wall as you relished in this moment. his teammates right outside, clueless as to what was going on with you two right now, while they just celebrated their victory. your shirt stayed on, of course. team pride.

he picked up his pace significantly, making sure the both of you would come quickly. you felt every inch of him pumping in and out of you. every vein, every pulse…

without warning (well, you tried — you squeezed his arm multiple times), you let out a strangled moan, coming around him. he felt you squeeze like a vice, in turn triggering his orgasm to hit him. he didn’t pull out, instead pushing himself deeper inside you, dumping his cum deep within you.

when he pulled out slowly, after fucking into you a few more times, there was that filthy squelching sound followed by the mix of fluids dripping out of you.

“you’re so hot,” he murmurs while wiping the cum off of your face, taking special care to not mess up your makeup too much, and fixing your hair. sweet.

you pulled your jeans back up when he was done, with him following suit.

“you go back first. i need to fix my makeup,” you told him after stepping outside of the cubicle.

“you look pretty already. especially with my cum splattered across your face, yeah?” remarked michael with a smug smirk etched onto his face.

you gave him a light smack on the back. “gross.”

“yet, i’m still your player of the season.”

@ vandevens 2026

[niki-writings]

Drop the Act - Michael Olise

Michael Olise x Reader

Sometimes you find it hard to be in a relationship with someone who is always in the public eye but that doesn’t stop you from loving Michael any less. The worst thing about having a famous footballer as your boyfriend is not the hate you receive or anything like that. It’s how he’s constantly trying to be nonchalant.

Olise had recently been referred to as one of the most nonchalant ballers out there and although you loved that he was finally getting popular, you hated how much it affected how he was when it was just you two.

After games instead of his usual bear hugs and what felt like 100 kisses he decided to divert to just side hugs and little pecks on your cheek.

You tried to ignore it at first thinking it was just a one game thing but then it started constantly happening. You had to act like it didn’t affect you but deep down, it hurt.

You missed the bubbly sweet guy he was when he was around you but now it had felt like you were just a background character.

What really ticked you off was after the game against Atalanta in the champions league. Michael hadn’t replied to any of your good luck texts or even batted an eye when you tried to talk to him after the game while a camera was on him.

You had finally had enough.

“Drop the Act Olise!” You yell at him loud enough for a couple spectators to hear.

“I’ve had enough of you acting like i don’t exist after every game just because you want to be nonchalant and act like you don’t care anymore.” You continue to say.

“I’ve been trying to make excuses for your behavior but now I’m done with you Olise. I will leave you if you cant start loving me right!”

That last sentence makes him break.

“I didn’t know.” He stammered out lightly. “I had no clue i was acting like that around you.” He says with his head down.

“I’m so fucking sorry y/n” He finally lets out.

“I have to take time to forgive you. You’ve almost completely ignored me for this past month. I need to see that you actually are sorry before you are forgiven.” You say seriously.

“I fucked up y/n im so sorry. Please take however long you need but please, promise eventually you’ll forgive me.”

“Only if you promise to be the boyfriend i know and love before he had to start acting tuff for the cameras” You say smiling slightly.

“I swear i will be how i used to be i wont let football get in the way of our relationship ever again.” He says with a stern tone.

Michael pulls you into a hug that you haven’t had in what felt like months but you had missed greatly.

“I love you” He whispers into you.

“I love you more” You say back wiping the tears that you haven’t known had formed.

[musialaslut]

wait holy shit

[certainsaturn]

desire is so jacked man...and there's mikey(petite princess)

[10boxees]

this interview is still lethal. i'm a pathetic loser, still stuck here. pulling my hair out

MO: i think that we’ve played together for a while now. not as much as we wanted to, obviously. EE: yeah.