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footywritingworks · 1 year

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Markings {Martin Ødegaard x fem!Reader}

Summary: Normally Martin is careful about his body after nights spent with his girlfriend. What if he forgot it one time though?

Wordcount: 1,6k

Warnings: smut, Martin getting teased, mentions of blood

You were still sleeping when Martin left for training that morning. He had been careful not to wake you up, putting out his alarm as fast as possible and even going as far as getting ready in the guest bathroom in your house.

Today was one of your few days off from your work and he wanted to make sure you could sleep as long as you possibly could. Especially after the night you two had. What had started with a normal date night had slowly escalated into a night of passion and lust as soon as you got back home. Martin stood under the shower when flashes of the night before flashed through his mind.

"Are you gonna be a good girl, kjære? Do everything I ask of you?"

His hand was gripping your jaw to make you look at him, your eyes slightly darker than usual as you submitted to his obvious dominance. One of your hands held onto his wrist while the other buried itself into the fabric of his white button up. While he was still almost fully dressed safe for the suit jacket that he had thrown over the living room couch, you were left in just your red lingerie you had put on for the date night. He could feel your breathing get heavy and goosebumps rise on your skin.

"Yes I will. You know I will. "

A smirk graced his face as he ran his thumb over your lips, smearing your red lipstick over your skin. He loved when you looked all messy for him. And he'd make you even messier.

"Then get on your knees for me and put your pretty mouth to use."

He was brought back to reality and had to turn the shower cold. He couldn't show up at training with a hard on and sadly he couldn't add another round to those of the night before. He was a captain after all, he had to lead with example. When he got out he noticed he didn't have much time left so he hurried through his morning routine before walking back into your bedroom to collect his training clothes.

He looked back on your bed and saw you still cuddled up in the blankets, sleeping soundly like you had no worry in the world. You had turned around and were now laying on his side of the bed. And he loved this look on you, expression all soft and gentle. Walking to the bed he pressed a kiss on your head and cheek, smiling as you nuzzled depper into his pillow. Your movements made the blanket fall of your shoulder a little, making him see the fresh marks of the night before. A smirk planted itself on his lips, proud of the masterpiece he had left on your skin.

He had you seated on his lap, both of your legs on either side of his hips while his hands were grabbing every inch of skin available to him. In fact, he had his arms so tightly around you that there was almost no space between your bodies. But that was exactly what he wanted, absolutely no space.

His lips had started their journey from your lipstick smeared lips over your cheeks and to your neck where he started to leave wet kisses on your skin and even suck some marks to the surface. After all the time the two of you had been together he knew every bit of making you melt in his arms and he wanted to do just that.

As he grazed an extra sensitive spot your body reacted with full force. One of your hands that was left tangled in his blonde hair now gripped onto his lock, pushing him even deeper into your neck while the other hand scratched over the skin of his chest and stomach, your nails leaving red lines. Your hips moved all on their own, jerking at the sensation on your neck against Martins hard on and continued to roll against him through your underwear.

The room was filled with your heavy breathing and small moans at every little touch of his. Martin ran his hand through your hair before pulling your head back to give him more access, making a desperate whine leave your mouth. Martins eyes shined dark with lust as he looked down on you.

"So responsive kjære. So good moaning and whimpering for me. Don't you dare hide your sounds from me."

He buried his head back into your neck and continued to leave marks wherever he could. By now all you could do was close your eyes and take it all.

"More. I need more Martin, please. Please."

With one last look at you he walked out and drove to the Arsenal training grounds. You knew he had training early so he didn't leave you a note. He did send you a good morning text though, like every morning ever since your third date if you didn't wake up together.

He was one of the first to arrive in Colney, like he always was. He always wanted to be one of the first to arrive and one of the last to leave the grounds. Walking through the facility he greeted some of the staff, making some small talk before moving to the locker rooms to change.

In the room he was greeted by Kieran, Bukayo and Granit. Not thinking much of it he started to change, his shirt being one of the first pieces to be pulled off. Almost instantaneously he heard gasps leaving his teammates followed by small chuckled.

"Shit Captain were you attacked by a wild animal? You look rough bro."

Martin looked up at them with question to which they only responded with even more laughter. They couldn't belive they had just caught their captain like this for the first time. Granit saved Martin the questions of what was going on.

"Go look in the mirror. Your girl did a really bad number on you. That you can even move your arms without feeling it in your back."

Without looking back at them he moved to their restroom section where the mirrors were. And sure enough he saw the damage you had done on him.

His front was marked with a couple of red streaks across his chest and abs. A couple of hickeys around his collarbones. But most noticeable were the hickeys that you had left from his stomach down the skin where his training shorts now hid the rest of them. He turned around and looked over his shoulder and knew what the others had meant. His back was covered in scratches from your nails in all kinds of directions. Some just barely there like the ones on his front, some a deep red and a couple even with dried blood on them where your nails had broken his skin. Just looking at them he knew exactly when they were carved into his skin even though he hadn't noticed them until now.

"Martin, please. I can't take it anymore."

By now you couldn't even form complete sentences anymore, your words just whimpers in his ear. Everything was too much, the heat produced by your skin, the lust and love burning in your heart, his lips and hands caressing every possible inch of skin they could reach and of course the constant sensation of him moving inside you at just the right pace and angle, his groans just adding to the atmosphere. He knew you like the back of his hand and he loved to take advantage of it. Just like tonight as he had brought you right to the edge multiple times already but stopped right before the knot could snap and release the whirlwind of pleasure you were reaching for. All with a satisfied smirk on his face.

He drove you insane and he knew that. But you knew better than to cum without his permission. The punishment would be even worse than what you were currently going through. So you went with the one thing you knew he would budge with. Begging. And it seemed to work as he looked down on you with a soft smile and leaned down while not stopping his thrusts. His lips now just barely above yours, that glimmer in his eyes.

"You can't take it anymore?"

You had shaken your head. His smile had turned into a smirk against your lips.

"Does my pretty girl want to cum then? Does she want to cum for me?"

You desperately nodded. By now your hands had taken refuge on his back. The intense pleasure making you claw your nails into his skin.

Martin had started to speed up his thrust now, also getting close to that desired edge. One of his hands had snaked down to rub small circles into your clit making you moan loudly while your hands continued to claw at his back. And he knew that if you didn't come soon you would explode. He pressed a kiss on your lips and then buried his head in your neck.

"Cum for me kjære. Give me everything you have. Show me how good you can be."

His voice was raspy in your ear, reminding you of his morning voice. And just a bit after his words it felt like you were on could nine as your high washed over you. Every fiber of your body was on fire and it seemed like your body couldn't decide between freezing up or twitching uncontrollably.

Feeling you clench around him like a vice in combination with your moans and the added pain of your nails on his back sent him over the edge as well, spilling inside of you with one last heated thrust and deep groans before his musles relaxed.

Martin moved back into the locker room with the proudest smile on his face. He saw on his teammates faces that they were about to overrun him with questions.

"You won't get anything out of me guys. A gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell."

#martin odegaard #martin ødegaard #martin Ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagine #Martin Ødegaard x Reader

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neymarsangel · 9 months

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North London Forever - Martin Ødegaard x reader

Martin Ødegaard x female!reader

Summary: Being Antonio Conte's daughter had its perks, one being you spent most of your time with footballers many dreamed to see but you couldn’t help but be drawn towards the other side of North London, more specifically a blonde midfielder. Besides, who didn’t enjoy a little bit of rivalry?

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, angst, swearing

Word Count: 4K

—

It all started back in 2021 when Arsenal beat Tottenham 3-1 at home after their rough start to the Premier League. You were there to support your Dad but a certain someone caught your attention. That man was Martin Odegaard. You knew you shouldn’t have looked at him the way you did, especially with all the cameras around and not to mention he played for Tottenham's biggest rivals and the team your Dad currently hated the most… Arsenal. You shoved the thought of Martin Odegaard to the back of your mind but it was like fate wanted the two of you to meet.

That night your friends asked you to join them on a night out and although you wanted nothing more than to spend the evening with your Dad something told you to go out with them. When you reached one of the many clubs they’d planned to take you to that night your eyes fell on a familiar sight. Martin and a few other Arsenal players were sat in a booth, celebrating one of the biggest wins of the season. Your eyes met and he couldn’t help but smirk at your reaction to seeing him. His ego swelled beyond belief knowing he’d caught the eye of his rivals manager's daughter.

The rest was history. He’d made his move that night, slipping in a small dig towards your father due to the win he was currently celebrating but that only made the two of you grow closer. You spent the night with him and honestly thought that would be the end until he asked to take you on a date. You knew it would be a bad idea, not because Martin wasn’t suited for you but because you knew your father would lose his shit when he found out but you didn’t care. You had been dating the Arsenal midfielder behind your father's back for a year.

The World Cup was finally upon everyone. Despite having some of the world's most talented players Norway didn’t make it to the competition but that meant you would have more time to spend with Martin. It also gave him time to finally take a break from football without the worry of having to rush home for training or a game. Your Dad had also decided to go back to Italy for a break, you’d been invited but you politely declined, your home was only a few streets away and certainly wasn’t from Italy.

“You sure you’ll be okay on your own?” Your Dad asked, counting his luggage as he made sure he had everything.

“I’m not a child.” You smiled at him. “I’ll be fine.”

“I will fly back in a heartbeat if you need me to, all you need to do is call me.”

“I’m sure I will be fine, say hello to the rest of the family for me.”

“You know they would prefer it if you were coming too.” He gave you a pitiful look as he pushed his bags aside. “You sure you’ll be okay -”

“Dad I will be fine.” You narrowed your gaze at him with a small smile on your face. “If anything happens or I change my mind I will call you or jump on the next flight to Italy.” You know that was a lie but it would put his mind at ease. “And the Christmas tree will be up when you get home.”

“Blue and white remember.” He arched his brows.

“I remember.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Martin’s reaction when he finds out you’d have to decorate the tree in Spurs colours.

You’d planned to decorate the tree with Martin, it wasn’t your first Christmas with him and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. Last year Martin invited you to his to decorate his tree which in North London fashion happened to be decorated in red and white. The pair of you made Christmas cookies with one another whilst you danced to Christmas music. Everything with him was perfect, you just wished you could’ve shared the actual day with him.

“I will be back in two weeks.” He made his way over to you, holding his arms out for a hug. You complied, walking towards him and falling into the hug. “Please don’t burn the house down.”

Laughing at his words you pulled back. “I won’t, I promise.”

Conte smiled at you as he gathered his bags, heading out to the car. Whilst he was packing his things into the vehicle you quickly pulled out your phone to text Martin.

You: He’s leaving now x

Martin: I’ll get my things and leave in 5 x

You: Drive safely please x

Martin: Always love x

“Who are you texting?” Your Dad’s voice snatched your attention. He arched his brows at you, his face clearly interested in the wide smile you had on your face as you looked at your phone.

“No one.” You lied. “I was just checking the time.”

“And smiling like an idiot at it?”

“What can I say, I get time away from you I’ll always be happy at that.” You gave him a smirk which broke into a small laugh. He followed suit, knowing you never meant that but he also knew you were lying about your reasons but he knew better than to press on.

“I will text you when I’m at the airport and when I’ve landed.”

“Be safe.”

“I will.” He blew a kiss to you as he got into the car, sending you a small wave as he left the house and headed back to Italy.

You’d always been close to your Dad, the love of football you both shared kept the bond alive. You’d travelled the world with him, watching him manage teams in different leagues and now you were back in London with him, the only change was you didn’t live in West London but North London. You’d still spoken to some of the old Chelsea lads your Dad managed but they didn’t exactly end on a good note so much like Martin, that was kept rather quiet.

Being so close to one another only added to your pain in keeping your relationship with Martin quiet. The pair of you never hid anything from one another and even if you tried it would always come to light a few days but not this secret. It was arguably the most challenging thing you’d ever done, having to lie to him for a year straight. One day he’d find out, you just needed to find a good time to tell him.

You never had to wait long for Martin to drive to yours after all, he was only a few streets away. That was an added benefit of dating him although you always had to keep an eye out for any Spurs players, god forbid one of them spotted you two together. Opening the door you were met with a wide grin and stunning blue eyes which always made you melt. You looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding a bunch of red roses.

“Cliché I know but red is better than white unless it’s on an Arsenal kit.” He winked before planting a kiss on your forehead. Taking the flowers from him you moved aside, letting him into your home. It was rare Martin ever got to be around for more than a few hours as your Dad would always be home or if the house was free Martin would be playing a match somewhere in Europe.

“You’re going to hate the colour my Dad wants the tree this year then.” Martin rolled his eyes at your words.

“You can decorate the tree then.” He gave you a grin. “I’ll be watching replays of our greatest wins against Tottenham.” You lightly shoved the boy as you shut the door, following his expression and grinning up at him.

“Shut up you’re helping.” You headed towards the kitchen to find a vase to put your flowers in with Martin trailing behind you. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling your back into his chest. He started to pepper you with light kisses on your neck, tightening his grip on your waist as you melted into his touch.

“When are you going to tell him?” He suddenly asked, turning you around to face him.

“I need to tell him soon it’s been a year.” Your voice dropped at your own words. “Christmas?”

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“Happiest day of the year for most people, maybe it’ll be ours too.”

“You think he’ll let you come to the Emirates on boxing day to watch me play West Ham?”

“Don’t get too hopeful Ødegaard.” The pair of you shared another smile. “I’ll tell him when he gets home from Italy, that way he’d got time to process the whole thing and the two of you won’t go up against one another in a match anytime soon.”

“I don’t care if he doesn’t like me, as long as you’ll still be mine.”

“Of course I will, I’m not going to throw what we have away all because my Dad can’t set aside some stupid rivalry.”

“It’s not a stupid rivalry -”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It’s a very serious one Arsenal continues to win.” He smirked. “Think I might need to remind Conte that when I see him next -”

“If he doesn’t hunt you down first. He thinks you’re an incredible player Martin but that only makes him hate you even more.”

“You know I don’t care what he thinks about me, right?”

“You have mentioned it.”

“We’ll tell him after Christmas… or maybe just before.”

“We?” “You don’t think I’m going to let you tell him on your own do you?”

Your smile grew as you leaned up to plant a kiss on his lips, Martin ducked his head down to deepen the kiss, his hands trailing down your body as he did so. The kiss grew hotter as your hands started to tug on the ends of his blonde hair. The pair of you eventually pulled away, your eyes gazing deep into one another's.

“Who knows maybe you can spend Christmas here.” You spoke, a playful smile tugging on your lips. Martin let out a light laugh, his head falling as he did so.

“I’m not spending it at this Tottenham house.”

“Fair point.” You laughed along with him before the two of you got to work on the tree.

You’d spent the entire time convincing Martin you couldn’t just switch out the colours to red and white but the gunner was adamant that he could make your Dad see reason. Eventually, the tree was decorated in navy blue and white, much to Martin’s disgust. The two of you decided to order a takeaway and watch Christmas films to pass the time. In the evening you’d both bake something Christmassy and then enjoy a joint shower to wash off all the mess you’d made but the sudden noise of your front door unlocking would ruin those evening plans.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen The Muppets Christmas Carol.” You were laying into his side, empty takeaway boxes in front of you both as you watched the film.

“It’s the same as all the other Christmas Carol films-”

“No, it’s got the muppets in this version therefore it’s better than any other version.”

“What do they add to the original story that makes it better?”

“Comedic value and musical numbers.” You looked over at him with a smile on your lips. “What more could you want?”

He shrugged before leaning in. “I could think of a few things.” As your lips went to touch his the sound of a key opening your front door made the pair of you jump apart.

“y/n? My flight was cancelled so you’re stuck with me-” Your Dad went to finish but when his eyes fell on Martin and his daughter beside one another on his sofa his words got lost in his mouth.

“Dad I-”

“Why is there an Arsenal player in my house?”

“Dad please can we talk about this?” You rose from your spot, Martin copied your actions, his eyes glued to Conte.

“We are talking.” His voice was stern as his bags fell to the floor. His eyes darted to Martin’s and if looks could kill you were convinced your boyfriend would be dead. “Get out, we’ll talk about this when he’s gone.”

“Dad please-”

“It’s not her fault.” Martin cut you off. “Please can we talk to you about this?” Conte said nothing. His eyes just stayed glued to Martin. Your boyfriend took the silent hint to continue. “I love her, a lot. This isn’t just a fling or some shitty hookup, we’ve been together for over a year now and every day I find myself falling for her even more than I was the day before. I know you won’t like me because I play for Arsenal but I hope you can see past that for her. I just want her to be happy, just as you do.”

“Get out.” Your Dad stood by his words.

“Dad-”

Martin let his head fall in defeat before speaking. “It’s fine y/n.” Martin cut you off. He leant down and planted a kiss on your head. Martin grabbed his things before heading out the door, his heart racing at what had just happened. Part of him wanted to stay and have it out with your Dad but he knew better than to press on.

When Martin was gone, Antonio looked over at you and started to speak. “You two have been together over a year?”

“Yes. I wanted to tell you, we planned on doing it soon but we could never find the right time and I knew you’d be annoyed because he plays for Arsenal but-”

“Can’t you see he’s using you?”

You were taken back by his words, your face scrunching at what you’d just heard. “You can’t be serious?”

“Think about it y/n, he plays for Arsenal and he’s the manager's golden boy and now he magically ends up with the rivals manager's daughter? Come on y/n.”

“For once can you just separate football from this, please? I know it’s your life, it’s mine too but not everything is about football.” You looked away before meeting his gaze again. “If you really think that why wouldn’t he just introduce himself to you so he can get as much knowledge as he possibly can straight away?”

“Probably because he gets it all from you!”

“You think that’s what we talk about? Believe it or not, we have actual conversations that don’t involve a group of men running around in a rectangle kicking a ball around for 90 minutes.”

He let out a deep breath, his hands raking through his hair before he spoke again. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you’d act like this.”

“Do you not trust me y/n?” “Of course, I trust you, Dad.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner? I thought we could tell one another everything?”

“Because you act like this. You act like he’s using me to get to you but he’s not. You try and put ideas in my head all because you want me to end up with Son or one of your other golden Spurs boys.” Tears formed in your eyes as you spoke. “I can’t help who I fall in love with and-”

“You love him?”

“Of course I do and because I love him I want you to accept him as my boyfriend just as you would do if I was dating any of the Tottenham players. Just because he plays for Arsenal doesn’t mean there’s any ill intent-”

“y/n please listen to me… no Arsenal player would willingly hang around with you-”

“With me?”

“No that’s not what I meant, y/n just listen-”

You didn’t want to hear the rest, why would you? Your Dad wasn’t going to change his mind. He hated the idea of you dating a footballer anyway but if you were he’d always made it clear he’d prefer someone like Son but even then that was a bit of a stretch.

You didn’t utter a word to your Dad as thoughts of Martin crossed your mind. When anything went wrong Martin was always there and you needed him now. Turning on your heel you headed to your room, packing some essentials before you grabbed your keys. “I need some time to think.” You uttered before opening the front door and clambering into your car.

Your Dad followed you, his figure standing in the doorway to your house as he watched you wipe your tears with the backs of your hand. You didn’t dare glance over to him as you pulled out of the driveway and headed to Martin’s. Although he normally came to yours there was the odd occasion where you’d stay at his. He had a drawer under his bed full of spare clothes for you and any products you used in your everyday life. If only your Dad bothered to learn about this side of Martin.

When the blonde opened the door his heart sank at the sight of you. Without uttering a word Martin pulled you inside, his arms wrapping around you immediately. For a while, you sobbed into his chest whilst he planted light kisses on your head and smoothed your hair down.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He finally spoke.

“I’ve fucked up.”

“No, you haven’t.” Martin pulled away, his hands cupping your face as he wiped your tears away. “Look, I shouldn’t have left like that. I should’ve stood up for you and at least spoken to him before I left you alone.”

“This isn’t your fault Martin.”

“It is partly. I was the one who continued to hide it away from your Dad when you wanted to tell him.”

“No, it’s not.” You planted a light kiss on his lips. “I just need time apart from him.”

“Well…” A smile spread across his lips. “I do need to decorate the tree in Arsenal colours.”

“Only if we get to finish The Muppets Christmas Carol.”

“Deal.”

—

For the past two weeks, you’d spent most of your waking hours with Martin, pushing what happened with your Dad to the back of your mind. You would attend Martin’s games which lead to a lot of talk with the press when fans caught you wearing an Arsenal shirt in his box. Conte did his best to avoid any talk of you, his anger still boiling up inside him at the idea of his daughter dating Arteta’s golden boy. Although his anger continued to shine, especially with Tottenham’s poor results he couldn’t help but feel an emptiness in the house. Without you, he was on his own and that feeling only got worse as Christmas approached.

It was Christmas Eve and Martin had just gotten home from training. The two of you were under a blanket as snow started to fall from the sky. The pair of you had your eyes glued to the TV which was currently playing The Grinch, your hands intertwined with his.

“Are you planning to spend Christmas with me?” Martin muttered into your hair before kissing your forehead.

“Of course I am.” You turned your head to face him. “Not exactly going to get up and run away now am I?” Martin leaned down and pecked your lips, his smile growing at your words.

“Perfect although I’d prefer if you were on good terms with your Dad. Have you spoken to him?”

“Nope.”

“Do you plan on it?”

“After Christmas.”

“Is it…?”

“The first Christmas without him? Yep.” A wave of sadness washed over you as you spoke. “No matter what team he was managing or wherever he was in the world we’d always be together for Christmas.”

“y/n this is all -”

Before Martin could finish his sentence his front door sounded. The pair of you glanced at one another before looking over to the door. Martin lifted you gently off his chest before making his way to his door.

“Were you expecting anyone?” You asked.

“No? Maybe Mikel needs something…” As he swung the door open he was met with the sympathetic eyes of your father. “Sorry, how do you know where I live?”

“Merry Christmas to you too Martin… I asked Arteta. I told him what happened and well, he was happy to help.”

“Brilliant.”

“Is she inside?”

“She is.” Martin leaned against the door frame as he spoke. “Do you really think she wants to see you? She told me everything… you really thought I was using her?”

“Can I please come in and talk it through with both of you?” A pitch of silence fell through the air. “Please?”

Martin knew you wanted it to be sorted. He could see how much it hurt you to be away from your Dad, especially at Christmas but he also knew this could all go horribly wrong and ruin the first proper Christmas the pair of you were spending together. Reluctantly he stepped aside and let your Dad in. He sent you a sympathetic look as you watched the familiar face walk through the door.

“y/n…”

“Hello, Dad.”

“I need to speak to both of you.” Martin walked back over to where you were sitting on the sofa, his eyes stern as he looked at your Dad. “I’m sorry for what I said to you both. I always let football take over my life, y/n knows that.” He gave a light smile your way before he continued. “I shouldn’t have let the rivalry between the two clubs get in the way of my daughter's happiness. As much as I hate Arsenal and especially Arteta’s golden boy it still wasn’t fair. I should never have doubted how you felt about my daughter Martin.” He let out a small laugh, “I can tell by the fans speak about you both that you treat her well.”

“Of course I do.” Martin sighed at his words. “Look, I get it. My Dad is the same with rivalries and so was I but the truth is football controls most of our lives but it shouldn’t control every aspect of our lives, especially the ones we love.”

“I’m so sorry.” Your Dad repeated.

“Me too.” You finally spoke. “We should’ve told you a long time ago-”

“I don’t blame you for not telling me. I understand why, look at what happened when you did.”

“You should not have found out that way.” You rose from your seat. Heading towards him with open arms. “I’m sorry Dad.” The pair of you wrapped your arms around one another. Martin stayed on the sofa, his smile growing knowing he’d finally been accepted by your Dad and now the two of you were finally back on track.

Both you and Conte pulled back. “How can I make it up to you both?” He asked.

“I have an idea,” Martin spoke up, a smirk growing on his lips. “Spend Christmas here with us, in the Arsenal-themed house.”

Conte looked between you both. No amount of grafting would get him out of Martin’s proposal. “Fine, as long as you two aren’t all over each other.”

“Can’t promise that sir.” Martin made his way over to you both, his hand extending for Conte to shake. “She does look good in my Arsenal shirt.”

“Watch it, Ødegaard.”

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yellowkitkieran · 7 months

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To Have and to Heal (Part 13)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Last week, Martin decided it was high time you spend some quality time with Atla. Things have grown serious between yourself and Martin rather quickly and he's decided it's time for you to spend some one on one time with his daughter. And when his usual sitter called last night to say she'd come down with the flu, Martin figured there is no time like the present.

"Atla, you know how sometimes when papa is busy, uncle Kieran will watch you alllll day and you'll do all sorts of fun things like painting, watching films, and eating sweets?"

Atla grins, kicking her feet at the dining table. "Uh huh! Onkel Kieran is the best- he's my favoritest!" With her fist wrapped around her spoon, Atla shovels a bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth. Half of Martin hopes she never outgrows the odd way she holds utensils, but the other half knows she will have to. Just like she'll outgrow him helping her with her hair, helping her tie her shoes… Martin isn't looking forward to his little girl becoming her own fully functioning human being.

"Well… papa is busy today, but so is uncle Kieran." Atla frowns, her feet losing their momentum and swinging slower. "But there's someone else I think you'd enjoy spending the day with… what do you think about hanging out with Miss. Sunshine today?"

Bits of egg fly when Atla drops her spoon and gasps. "Papa! I get to see Miss. Sunshine today? Really! Is she coming here? When? What are we gonna do- I want to show her my studio!"

Martin laughs, glad to see his daughter so excited about the prospect of spending time with you. "She should be here soon, once you finish your breakfast. And all your milk! Once she's here you can show her all your artwork, I'm sure she'll love it."

"Okay- okay! I'll finish-" with two hands, Atla picks up her glass and finishes the contents. A white mustache of milk lines her upper lip, which Martin leans over the counter to wipe away with a napkin. Atla murmurs a thank you. The smile that accompanies it sparks joy in Martin's chest, lighting up his mood like fireworks on a warm summer night.

A knock on the door comes as Atla is bouncing in her seat. "You stay here," Martin says with a pointed glance at his daughter's pink butterfly plate still heaped with her breakfast. "Finish your meal or I'll send Miss. Sunshine right back home."

"I'm gonna, I promise! Don't send her home!" Martin drops a reassuring kiss to the top of Atla's head as he passes, headed straight through the sitting room for the front foyer. Knowing it's you waiting on the other side of the door has a smile unfurling on Martin's face. He reaches for you the moment it opens, one hand firmly on your waist to draw you in for a kiss.

"Hello solskin," Martin mumbles against your mouth, "missed you. Three days apart is too long."

An away game yesterday means Martin hasn't seen you since Wednesday- luckily, having played on Saturday meant you were free today. Whilst he still technically needed to attend a recovery session in an hour, his night would be mostly free.

"I missed you too Mar, but you shouldn't kiss me when Atla is right there," you whisper in a way that's meant to be reprimanding but only makes Martin want to do it again.

"Ah we're fine don't worry, she's finishing up her breakfast. We have time for one more kiss…" Martin grins, stealing another before you pull away. He loves the way you glance over his shoulder just to be double sure you're in the clear.

"I'm still not sure about this." You say that, but the way you don't hesitate to set your bag on the table next to the door and toe off your shoes says something entirely different. "You're positive this won't end badly?"

Martin bends backwards at his waist to catch a glimpse of Atla in the dining room. The toddler hums a tune to herself whilst she arranges her potatoes in a line with her fork so she can eat them one by one. Martin has never been so sure of anything in his life.

"Firstly, all Atla ever talks about on the way home from school is how much fun she had in the last few hours of her day. You know, when she's with you?"

You wring your hands, "yeah but this is different. This is a full day, like six hours of just me and Attie."

Martin kisses your forehead, "solskin, quit worrying. She's gonna have the time of her life okay? Now let's go say hello and I'll get out of your hair."

Holding your hand until he nears the dining room, Martin gives it one last squeeze before he drops it and comes around to kiss the crown of Atla's head. "Great job finishing your plate søta! And just in time because look who's here."

"Miss. Sunshine!" Atla's shriek nearly shatters Martin's eardrums, though the enthusiastic giggle that spills from her as she wraps her arms around your legs makes up for the momentary loss of hearing.

"Hi princess! You and I are gonna have so much fun today!" Atla taps her feet, her excitement too much to be contained by her little body and manifesting in physical ways. "We're gonna go to the zoo- your papa said he's not taken you there all year!"

"I wanna see the tigers-" Atla scrunches up her face in her best teeth-bearing growl "-and the lions-" now her claws come out, fingers curled "-and the fishes!" At last Atla puffs out her cheeks, imitating the cutest little fish Martin has ever seen.

Martin crouches to his daughter's level and tucks the bit of blonde hair that's sprung free from her pigtails behind her ear. His heart punches his ribs when your thumb brushes over his hand on Atla's shoulder. He prays today goes well- Martin doubts Atla will cause trouble, but toddlers are nothing if not unpredictable.

"Be good for Miss Sunshine, søta. Remember to eat your greens so you can grow big and strong. And show Miss Sunshine where papa keeps the sweets- you can have one after lunch, so choose wisely." Martin kisses both of Atla's cheeks before crushing her in a hug.

"I'll be good I promise- daddy you're gonna squeeze me too tight-" Atla wiggles and giggles until Martin finally lets go. "Bye papa! Go- shoo! Out!"

"Getting tossed out of my own home," Martin murmurs. "Luckily it's for a good cause." He catches your eye and he swears your smile could outshine a thousand stars.

Martin loves you. It's clear then, and he cannot deny it. He would cross a hundred seas or face a thousand foes to ensure you are safe and protected.

"Martin," you sing song, "we'll see you later, yeah?"

"Right, yeah-" Martin clears the gravel from his throat and has to consciously keep himself from kissing you. It's a reflex by now, as much as hugging Atla is.

"Bye Martin! We'll see you in a bit- What are we doing first Attie?"

"Color! Papa isn't fun- we need blue puppies!"

Martin pauses at the door, soaking in the moment. This could be his future. For once, Martin isn't terrified by the thought of loving someone other than his first wife- and it's a refreshing realization.

"Bye girls!" Martin calls and is pushed out the door by your and Atla's mingled shouted farewells. How can he not have a great day when he knows his two favorite girls will be waiting for him when he comes home?

**********

When Martin leaves, you're a nervous wreck. You default onto your teacher tactics, herding Atla to the dining room table for some coloring whilst you try and calm your nerves. Only a minute later, your phone buzzes in your pocket with a text from Martin.

Can't wait to see all the pictures of your adventures today. Have fun, she already loves you. Nothing to be worried about, solskin.

As simple as the reminder is, Martin's reassurance is what finally quiets the what ifs swirling in your mind. You're here to bond with Atla, and that's what you intend to do.

"First we color," you say, blue pencil poised over the print out of a long eared dog that Atla slid your way, "then a walk to the zoo? I think that's a solid plan!"

"Yes! Yes please- I'm so happy you're here." Atla drops her own pencil and quickly wraps her arms around you in a haphazard hug. Her pencil is back in her hand faster than you can blink. You smile to yourself. Things seem to be off to a decent start.

An hour later you're at the zoo, slathering sun block on Atla's face to protect her from the rare London sunshine. Even the weather wants today to be a good day for you.

"I need to see the tigers," Atla declares adamantly. Her little hands are fisted on her hips, her no nonsense expression affording you no means to negotiate.

"Well, that's a good thing those are my favorite. They're by the lions, and the leopards- the white ones with spots, and the black ones too. Can you find the tiger on the map?"

Off to the side of the walkway, you hoist Atla into your arms so she can better see the brightly colored map of the zoo posted by the entrance. Little pictures of animals dot the paths, along with their scientific names beneath each one. Atla takes her time, studying the map until finally she points to the correct spot.

"There! We have to take pictures- papa loves tigers!"

Atla allows no pit stops along the way, dragging you towards the exhibit with surprising strength. You have to correct her once or twice when she gets turned around, but overall she does a decent job of navigating using the child-height signs along the way, designed to guide independent little ones.

"They're out- look Miss Sunshine! Look!" Atla tugs hard at your hand, dragging you towards the glass wall of the exhibit that allows you to safely view the animals beyond. Sleeping against the glass lays a tiger, it's black and orange striped fur warmed by the sun.

"Be quiet, it's sleeping." You let go of Atla's hand so she can climb onto the stone ledge next to the glass. She gasps when she sees the animal's face, mesmerized by it's size.

"It's so pretty," Atla murmurs, immediately smushing her face to the glass. "Papa loves them- he loves tigers. He's so close! I wanna pet him!"

The tiger stirs and Atla jolts backwards. You catch her before she falls, suppressing your laugh. "It's okay, he can't get you from out here. He's just a big lazy kitty anyway- see? His eyes are open, he just wants to look at you."

"Oh…" Regaining her courage, Atla puts her palms on the glass and stands up. She doesn't flinch this time when the tiger yawns, stretching it's substantial limbs. It's curved, pointed claws peek out from his toes, and Atla whips around to confirm that you're watching. When you nod, her attention returns to the beast at her feet. It's amber eyes bore into her own, curious but not malicious. It truly is a gorgeous animal- strong, fierce, and protective.

Sort of like Martin, when you think about it. It takes considerable strength to captain a team as successful as Arsenal, and to do so without backing down at the first signs of trouble. Martin is fierce on and off the pitch, unwilling to bend when things get difficult. And protective? You cannot think of a single word that fits Martin more aptly.

"Let's take some photos for papa," you suggest. Atla happily takes your phone and snaps some, including one of herself and you, the tiger barely visible in the background thanks to the odd angle. Regardless, you know it'll be Martin's new favorite.

**********

Atla is almost asleep, be quiet when you come in please.

Luckily, Martin sees your warning as he pulls into the drive. His joints creak as he climbs the handful of steps to the door. Today was grueling. Martin wants to inhale a sugar-free coke and the rest of the grilled chicken he knows is waiting for him in the fridge. Then, he wants to get Atla up to bed (preferably under her own power, considering how his calves are already screaming at him), and settle in for a sappy film on the sofa with your feet in his lap.

Martin finds you already in his spot, parked in front of the television with Atla's head resting on your knee. A touch to your shoulder ensures you don't startle upon Martin's near silent approach, a warning before he leans over the back of the sofa to confirm Atla's eyes are shut.

Satisfied his daughter is asleep, Martin curls a finger under your chin. He uses it to tip your head back, studying your upside down smile and your sleepy eyes before he places a soft kiss on your pillowy lips. Even the simple gesture scatters sparks over his skin.

"Hi," you murmur, the single word steeped in flowered affection. "Tough day?" A moan sits on the tip of Martin's tongue when you reach around and massage your fingertips against his shoulder blade, right where he's most sore.

Martin hums, his face now buried in your neck. "Long day. You tired her out, I see."

"We had a packed day. Get her up to bed and then you can tell me all about yours. How's that sound?"

"Utmerket- perfect," Martin corrects himself when you quirk a brow at his norwegian. "Atlaaa," Martin drags out the 'A' until she stirs, "la oss gå til sengs."

"Jeg vil ikke," Atla whines and buries herself further under the blanket. "Jeg sover her."

"You can't sleep her søta," Martin murmurs, ignoring the burn in his muscles when he scoops his daughter into his arms. "Papa will take you upstairs to your room… you don't want Ty and Bernie and Liz to sleep all alone do you?"

Atla shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "No- I'll go to bed…"

Martin smiles, climbing the carpeted stairs to the second level to deposit Atla in her bed. He goes through his nightly ritual, tucking her in under her fluffy pink comforter and arranging her squishmallows exactly how she likes it. It's Ty's night to cuddle so Martin tucks the brown dog in Atla's arms. Her soft coo of approval is music to Martin's ears.

"Goodnight Attie, jeg elsker deg."

Atla only manages a wordless mumble in response. Martin flicks on her mushroom shaped night light and carefully slips out. As much as he wants to sprint into your arms, Martin knows he still carries the stink of sweat from training despite his rushed shower at the grounds so he heads off for a second one, scrubbing himself down thoroughly.

Once he's satisfied he smells pleasant, he throws on the first pair of shorts he can find. He nearly trips on the bottom step in his haste to throw himself at you, grinning as he launches himself onto the sofa where you're waiting with open arms.

"Oof- babe! Warn me before you do that… I need compensation for the elbow I just caught to my ribs!"

Martin immediately soothes his hand over your side and pecks your lips. "Does that count? I missed you- did you and Atla have fun today? Did she behave?"

"One question at a time babe… yes, that kiss makes up for it." Your fingers thread in Martin's hair, guiding his head to rest on your chest. "Yes, Atla and I had fun today, I have plenty of photos to show you. She loved seeing the tigers, said they reminded her of you." When your nails scratch at his scalp, Martin's eyes begin to close. "And yes, Atla was an angel. She ate all her greens, just like you told her to. And now you need to eat yours." You nod to the coffee table, to a bowl Martin hadn't noticed earlier.

Martin has never been so happy to see a salad in his entire life. You must have prepared it while he was in the shower, and he happily sits up to dig in. He tries to savor it, but his stomach is a bottomless pit and he devours his meal in minutes.

"Thank you. That was delicious." Martin brings you in for a kiss, deepening it for a split second to ensure you understand how appreciative it is. "You didn't- oh!"

When you grab the front of Martin's shirt and haul him towards you, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you again. He knows what you want, so he gives it to you. Your fingers glide over his chest while his tangle in your hair. He bites your lower lip and is rewarded with a surprised groan. He's wholly lost in you then, hypnotized by your sounds and transfixed by your hands on him.

"Papa?"

Atla's voice rips the world from under Martin's feet. Dread cuts through the passion as the two of you jolt apart. Fuck.

"Atla," Martin murmurs, frantically trying to straighten his shirt while you pat down your mussed hair. Martin clears his throat, trying to tamp down on his wild heartbeat.

"Why were you kissing Miss. Sunshine? You're only supposed to kiss mama."

This isn't how Atla was meant to find out. Martin had a plan, he was going to tell her gently, let her have a chance to process everything and ask questions. Springing his relationship on Atla like this… Martin's stomach churns.

"Miss. Sunshine is…" Martin glances over at you. From where Atla stands, she cannot see Martin take your hand. He needs the support now more than ever. "She's my special friend."

"You're not supposed to kiss your friends like that papa." God, Martin might actually be sick. He hates everything about this.

"No, you're right Attie- but Miss. Sunshine…"

"What about mama?" Atla blinks and Martin finally notices the tears in her eyes. He's up off the sofa in a second, reaching for her as his instincts take over.

Martin cradles Atla's tear streaked face, "Mama is gone, søta. Remember how we talked about her being in the sky-"

"You're only supposed to kiss mama!" Atla stomps her foot. Her teddy falls to the ground and rolls a few feet away. Martin tries to hand it back, hoping she'll find comfort in the familiarity, but she pushes him away. "No! You're lying- mama is coming back! She's just away for a while!"

"Atla…"

"You're a liar! Løgner, løgner, løgner-"

"Atla please!" Martin doesn't like raising his voice with Atla, but he's desperate. "Mama isn't coming back, she's gone forever and I'm sorry but-"

"No! She's stealing you from me and mama!"

"I should go," you murmur, and Martin's panic doubles. "I don't want to be the reason-"

No. No. Martin isn't losing you, not like this.

"Atla, go to your room."

"Papa-"

"Now!"

Atla blinks, her lip wobbling. Martin hates himself. His daughter rips her stuffie from his hands and tears his heart from his chest when she scrambles up the stairs and slams the door to her room.

"I need to leave. I shouldn't-"

"Please stay." Martin grabs your wrist, not caring that he's acting every bit the desperate child he feels he is inside. "Please don't- solskin please. I just need to talk to her-"

"Martin, I'm not coming between you and your daughter. End of story." Martin's heart cracks open when you peel his fingers off one by one until his hand hangs at his side, limp and empty. You wrap your arms around yourself to find some sort of comfort. "I won't break up your family. I won't be the woman who comes in and wrecks things, I just won't."

"Maria is gone," Martin croaks. He ignores the way his voice jumps an octave at the end. He needs you to stay. He's just gotten himself to admit he loves you, and now this?

"Yes, but her memory isn't. Clearly Atla doesn't understand what's happened, and that's not on you- she's a child, it's not easy for her to understand. But…"

You trail off, blinking back tears. Martin wants to soothe you. He wants to curl up on the sofa with you, comb his fingers through your hair and promise everything will be alright. But he cannot do any of that, because you're pulling away from him. You're putting up walls, bricking up your heart faster than he can tear them away. It won't stop him from trying though. He'll pry away the bricks until his fingers are bloody and his nails are broken stubs; he needs you now, and he cannot let you slip away.

Except…

Except.

Atla. His blood. The one piece of Maria he still has left. If she doesn't approve, Martin is stuck.

Martin can't betray his daughter. But if he can only speak with her, he is certain he can explain things. Once she understands, then Martin can settle this mess and everything will be okay.

"I'll speak to Atla in the morning." Martin's mumble breaks the silence with the grace of a rock thrown through the surface of a frozen lake. Martin's limbs tingle, like they sometimes do after a workout. His fingers open and close around nothing at his side. He can't bring himself to look at you, not when his entire world is shifting.

"Don't. Clearly this isn't meant to be Mar. I'm sorry… I wish it was."

Martin's entire body recoils when your lips meet his cheek. The split second contact burns like a brand of a love that was squashed before it had the chance to bloom into something beautiful.

"Goodbye, Martin. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"See you Wednesday." It's his voice, Martin recognizes it, but it feels as if it does not come from his mouth. Of course he'll see you Wednesday, because he won't send someone else to pick up Atla. He doesn't trust anyone else.

So Martin will do what he has always done: he will endure. He will fight through the now all too familiar agony of heart break and put on a brave face for his daughter. He will be the man who's only goal is to provide for his family, who wakes up each and every morning solely to put a smile on Atla's face.

Once upon a time, Martin thought that was enough of a purpose. Now, as you walk out the door, he isn't so positive anymore. Martin is meant to love- but apparently he isn't meant to be loved in return.

#sorry?#martin odegaard fanfiction #martin Ødegaard #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard oneshot #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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pensat-i-fet · 10 months

Text

The (only) one I love (Martin Ødegaard x Reader, ft Rúben Dias)

**After posting this Rúben imagine, I got a request to do something similar but with Ødegaard. And this is what I came up with. There is a little Rúben cameo and...he might not be that great in this story but oh well 😅 enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 2887

Masterlist

Wattpad

Jealousy was a very bad companion. It was an irrational feeling that made people say and do very stupid things. No one wanted to feel jealous. And yet…

“You’re going to Manchester?”

“Yes. Just for the weekend”, you said, not noticing the way Martin looked at you. “It’d be fun to see everyone”.

“Sure”.

“You ok? Worried you’ll miss me too much?”, you teased.

“Yeah, that’s it”.

Even if Martin’s smile didn’t convince you fully that it was only that, you let it slide. It was true that you hadn’t spent that much time together lately but you really needed some time away to catch up with your friends and that work trip was a great option to do just that.

Your year studying abroad in Lisbon turned into a job at Benfica, which then led you to your job at City. There, your good relationship with Mikel Arteta made you take his offer of working with him at Arsenal. You were extremely happy in London but you missed Manchester. And especially, the Portuguese boys. You had already worked with Rúben when he still played for Benfica. And once at City, you became friends with Bernardo almost as easily.

The season had been a strange one for you. Arsenal were doing so well but City was always behind, ready to take any opportunity to go back to the top of the table. It was sort of ideal in a way. If Arsenal won, your team won. But if they didn’t, your former team would win. Your friends would win.

Someone who didn’t see it that way was Martin. Even if you had an unspoken rule of not dating players, once you met Martin, that rule banished. You were charmed by his personality the second you talked to him and you already thought he was really cute before meeting him in person, so…

“Let’s go to the match!”

Once you got to the stadium, it was time to separate from Martin. He had been pretty quiet on the ride to the stadium but you didn’t worry much about it. It wasn’t that unusual for him to be like that.

“Good luck, my love”, you said, kissing him and hugging him tightly. You knew how nervous he got before matches and how much your good wishes meant to him.

Despite all the silly thoughts in his mind, your hug made him relax. You were there with him. And he trusted you. There was no reason to be jealous. And yet…

Another bad result for Arsenal, while City kept winning all of their matches, meant Martin was pretty upset after the match. He loved being a captain, even if he was still so young. But bad results were harder to digest because of that extra responsibility.

He was waiting for you to be done with work, sitting inside the car, lost in thoughts of what could have been done better.

"Hey!"

Hearing your voice made him turn his body completely to hug you. You barely had time to sit down but didn't mind. Martin needed you.

"Please don't go to Manchester", he muttered against your neck.

"Why?"

He looked up realising he had said that out loud. He couldn't tell you about his jealousy. You wouldn't understand. And it wouldn't be fair to you, because you had done nothing wrong.

"I just…I need you here with me".

"I can come back a day earlier but I need to go. There's work stuff that I need to do there".

"Of course. I'm just being stupid and needy. Stay there as long as you want to".

He shook his head and got ready to drive but you took his hand to stop him.

"Is there anything else you want to say?"

"No", he smiled. "Let's go home".

"This is ridiculous", whispered Martin, putting his phone down and his hands on his face.

"What's wrong, bro?", asked Bukayo when he saw his captain's actions.

"I'm stupid. That's what's wrong".

"You're not. Did you see something on your phone that upset you? Is your family ok?"

"Yeah, they are good, don't worry. It's just…", he didn't know how to say it without sounding silly so he took the phone and showed Bukayo.

"I don't get…oh. Don't be jealous, mate. She'd never do that".

"I know", he sighed. "That's why I feel stupid. But look at the comments".

Bukayo did and understood his teammate a bit better. So many people talking about what a great couple you and Rúben Dias made. On a previous post with photos of you two, even one of Rúben's friends commented about it…and Rúben liked the post. Martin couldn't stand it anymore. But he couldn't ask you to stop being friends with him. It wasn't fair.

By the time you got back from Manchester, Martin had convinced himself that not looking at any of your posts was the best idea. He was the type of boyfriend who always liked your posts and left some sort of comment. Even if it was just a heart emoji. So people noticed the change but he didn't care.

"Honey, I'm home!"

You didn't even have time to fully close the door before Martin got there and lifted you to hug you.

"Missed me?"

"Barely", he joked before kissing you. "I thought we could go out for dinner. But if you're tired, I can cook or order something".

"Let's order. I'm shattered. I just want to shower, put on my pajamas and cuddle with my favourite boy".

"That's a good plan", he said, smiling and pecking your lips again.

Martin's smile didn't leave his face while he walked with you to your room. But then you took your hoodie off and he saw it wasn't one he had seen before.

"Did you go shopping while in Manchester?"

"No. Why? Did you expect a souvenir?"

He laughed at your joke, still looking at the hoodie. "Where did this come from then?"

"Rúben", you said, casually. "I was clumsy enough to get sauce on my jacket so he gave me his hoodie to wear".

"That's nice of him".

You smiled at your boyfriend before getting inside the shower, not seeing his face. Not guessing all the thoughts that were going through his mind at that moment.

The weeks passed and it was time for Martin's most dreaded match. City at the Etihad.

"Hello traitor", he heard someone say when he was on his way to the dressing room. And he knew that voice.

When he turned to look at Rúben, he saw you hugging him and laughing. He would have stared for hours but a slap on his back woke him up from his daydreaming of how he could murder a Portuguese defender.

"Hey, good to see you", said Erling.

"Yeah, same".

But Martin kept looking in your direction and Erling noticed.

"Who's that?"

"My girlfriend".

"Right…I heard about her. She used to work here".

Martin nodded, hearing your laugh he loved so much but that he couldn't enjoy now because of who was the reason you were laughing.

"I better go. Good luck".

"Good luck to you too".

Martin started to walk faster and you noticed him leaving without getting his good luck hug.

"I need to go. See you later", you told Rúben before sprinting after your boyfriend.

The door to the dressing room closed behind him and you knew you couldn't get inside. The players knew you and probably wouldn't mind but you wanted to respect their privacy. So when you saw another player walking towards the door, you knew it was your best chance.

"Aaron, can you tell Martin to come out for a second?"

"It's time for the coach's talk but then we'll go out again to warm up".

"Yes, but I need to go to work myself and I have to tell him something important…".

"Ok".

Checking your phone you noticed you couldn't wait there longer than 5 minutes. But luckily, the door opened again and it was Martin who got out.

"Hey, I didn't get to wish you good luck".

"No, you were too busy".

"What does that even mean?"

"I have to go back inside. The captain can't miss the team talk".

"Are you mad at me?"

No, he was mad at himself.

"Martin…".

"We'll talk later".

None of you could concentrate well on your jobs after that. And every city goal only made the situation worse.

After the match, a lot of City players surrounded their former teammate Zinchenko. But you were surrounded only by two City players, Rúben and Bernardo.

"Who's going to win the league, then?", laughed Bernardo. You had been joking about it all season.

"I don't care", you said and they were surprised by the way you reacted.

"Don't be a sore loser", said Rúben, putting his arm around your shoulders. And when you looked up, you saw Martin looking at you two. And finally, finally, you understood why he behaved the way he did sometimes. Why he had behaved the way he did before the match.

Focusing on work was the best option for you and that's what you did. By the time you got to the plane, you hadn't talked to Martin and you planned on doing that when you got home. The last thing you needed was to make a scene in front of your bosses.

"Are you going to talk to me or just acting like a child is enough for you today?"

"You don't get it".

"I do, Martin. I do now. You're jealous of Rúben, which is the stupidest thing…".

"Is it stupid? Ask him if it’s stupid! I trust you but I don't trust him at all".

"So I can't be friends with men then?", he was being so ridiculous…you couldn't believe it. He wasn't like that normally.

"You're friends with my Arsenal teammates and it's fine. You're friends with Silva too and it's fine. But Dias…he likes you. Don't deny it".

"If you trusted me as much as you say you do, that wouldn't matter".

Martin noticed you didn't deny his claim. And he really hoped you would.

"I do, but it's hard. Put yourself in my shoes for a second".

Seeing his defeated look took some of your anger away. So you took his hand and walked with him to the sofa so you could sit and talk.

"Why is it hard? Explain it to me".

And so he started to name all the things that had made him jealous in the past, worried you'd laugh at him.

"And then they have to play against Madrid and you want them to win too, writing about it on social media".

"So? Why can't I support City in the Champions League? I won't next year when you play it".

"I played for Madrid. People talked about how my girlfriend was talking about wanting them to lose".

"They treated you like shit. People can't expect me to like them…".

"I guess", he sighed.

"What else?"

"Do you read the comments on your posts?"

That surprised you. Did he? You never did because being a woman in a male centric industry meant you got a lot of abuse on social media. So the best thing you could do was ignore all comments.

"No, why?"

"So you don't see how people ship you and Rúben every time you post about the other or when you interact in the comments"

"That's so stupid. I post a lot with Bernardo too. Why don't they ship me with him then?"

"He's in a relationship".

"So am I".

"Yeah…they don't care about that, apparently".

"Do you get comments about it?"

He nodded, picking up his phone and going to the last photo of you he posted. You read the comments and couldn't believe it. All the cheating accusations under your comment were bad enough. But all those comments about you and Rúben being a better couple…

"You should have told me earlier".

"And look like the idiot I am? I told you, I trust you. But it can be too much. He's taking my league title but he can't take you too".

"He won't".

You understood. And most importantly, you believed him when he said he trusted you.

After your talk, you two cuddled on the sofa. He needed you to be there for him and you needed to reassure him.

Between the match, the travelling and your argument, he was exhausted and fell asleep quickly. You moved him gently so his head could be on your lap and took your phone out and took a photo of him. He looked adorable.

Because of the argument, you hadn't had time to go through Instagram after the match. And you didn't know why, but you felt the need to go to your tagged photos.

One of the first you saw was of you and Rúben hugging. A City fan page had posted it and Rúben liked it. You were about to move to the next when the caption caught your attention.

"Please City, bring her back to the team so these two can be together. Dream couple! 😍"

Rúben like that? You definitely needed to talk to him but you couldn't tell Martin. He didn't need to see more comments like that. He was right when he said it was too much. You could only imagine how painful it would be to see those types of posts about him and another woman.

Looking down at him, you felt the need to do something. And so you opened the Instagram app again and posted the photo you took of Martin sleeping with his head on your lap on your stories.

"The (only) one I love 💕"

#martin odegaard #ruben dias #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard angst #footballer imagine #footballer fluff #footballer one shot #footballer x reader #footballer x yn #footballer angst #martin ødegaard

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oh-saints · 1 year

Text

sunshine becomes you (pt.1)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way...

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

word count: 3.7k

tw: mentions of cheating (but not the MCs)

note: due to the popular demand (thank you whoever started this and @wingsofanillyrian for telling me to drop this down), here goes a Martin Ødegaard two-shot because he deserves this and we all deserve this. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn A CENTURY AGO so this is ofc not proof-read. oh, and feedbacks are always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“Good morning, Granit! Good morning, Martin!”

While the Albanian-descendant reciprocated her greeting, the Norwegian only recognised her presence by throwing a nonchalant sideway look at her, followed by a deep sigh, before continuing his way to the interior part of London Colney.

No words exchanged, as usual.

“Don’t mind the lad, Eve,” Granit must’ve sensed her—daily, by now—disappointment. It had been more than a year since she first started this fantastic job at Arsenal, yet the creative midfielder hadn’t even spared her a full glance all this while, bar the first time he signed the contract. “It always takes a while for him to start his engine in the morning.”

“It’s just…” Eve sighed, unable to hold the pout from showing up on her lips. She only had good intentions; she loves the club and the players who played for the badge, greeting them was simply her way of expressing gratitude towards them. “I wonder what I’d done wrong…”

Granit threw her a sympathetic look as he signed some papers for his packages. “Oh, honey… don’t we all wonder the same?”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

As soon as Martin stepped into London Colney building that one, particular morning, he immediately sensed something was off before he could put a finger on it.

At first, he thought he was only imagining things but later, as he saw Louisa running back and forth to every side of the building as if she’d catch fire on her arse if she didn’t, he realised something had gone terribly off the mark.

Tracking back, only then he noticed everything had gone wrong from the first moment his feet landed on his club’s training centre. No citrus scent poking its way to his nose and certainly no bright-as-fuck ‘good morning’ greeted him right after. No heels clicking throughout the hallway at this hour and was instead replaced by Louisa’s trainers screeching against the wooden floor as the junior receptionist ran, trying very hard to fill in her counterpart’s unusually immaculate pace on getting the delivery job done.

Not that he minded Eve’s absence—he actually longed for the day it came—but it had been a year or so and she never failed to greet everyone with her chirpy voice and a blazing smile the first thing everyone walked into the facility. It was only natural everyone thought that was naturally her friendly personality.

Well, except him, of course.

Martin simply thought she was impossible. How could someone be all sunshine blazing at full watt, not only every morning but throughout the day as well? One couldn’t be that happy at every moment in her life.

His take was it was either she wanted everyone in Colney to like her or it was her façade to hide her true personality. Either way, he didn’t like any kind of fake person and he’d appreciate it if one day he could prove his theory true.

“Ah, fuck me,” Suddenly a Scottish accent boomed throughout the gym, signaling the club’s resident DJ, Kieran Tierney, had graced the facility his presence. “Lou messed up my stuffs, mate.”

“Yeah, she did mine, too,” Martin always wondered how Kieran and Rob could compliment each other so well when one was always angry all the time and the other was super happy-go-lucky kind of guy. “No offense to Lou, but I swear I need Eve back asap.”

Kieran sighed at the reality as he played the opening song for the day.

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

A week passed by and London Colney was still missing its beloved front desk. Louisa was visibly struggling more and more each day to complete a job that was supposed to be shared between two people, and the residents of the training centre were getting more and more anxious that Eve wasn’t coming back.

Initial rumours had it that Eve asked for an emergency leave last week, right before the home game against Leicester City, via text. It caused quite a stir amongst the front office staffs for—apparently—its anomaly:

1) Eve rarely texts people about work,

2) Eve finally used her leave for the first time since joining the club,

3) George, the Head of HR, approved of her block leave at this time of the year without further questioning.

Not that Martin was paying attention to the gossips, God no. But he could swear the women could definitely bite his ears off during lunch if they kept it this way. Martin silently prayed for Eve to comeback, genuinely this time around, for his ears’ sanity and more importantly, to avoid falling follicles of everyone’s heads due to Lou’s incompetence.

However, after full ten days, Martin knew straight away Eve was back as soon as Colney’s majestic doors went wide open at his approaching steps.

Albeit faint, the signature citrus scent from the air humidifier she turned on lingered in the air and Martin, to be very completely honest, had never felt more familiar with the grandiose training facility than at that moment. It was as if half of Colney’s soul was slowly brought back to life.

He was expecting the woman to throw him her overwhelmingly annoying good morning, Martin! that made his ears rung as he entered Colney but to his surprise, no sounds ever made it to his hearing organs. Martin prided his hearing ability just fine, so this should be recalled for its credibility this time.

Who would’ve thought the day Martin had been dreaming of come earlier than expected?

He was caught off guard, to say the least, that he had to spare the woman a glance to make sure this was reality. But there she was, behind her desk, back straight up ever so professional, eyes down as she scribbled on something—everything was as usual, except for the whole different exterior she was donning.

Eyes cold and lifeless, pale lips on a perfectly straight line.

Martin should be glad his hypothesis was becoming align with reality but instead, he felt more annoyed at the sight—so much more annoyed than when she blasted the ball fire of sun towards his direction.

If Eve tried so hard to change her demeanour, she should take a look at the mirror; going full-on cold city girl didn’t suit her at all. Nothing makes Martin more irritated than someone trying so hard to be intimidating so others can take them seriously.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“You’re resigning?”

Louisa tried so hard to maintain the decibel of her voice but it came out as a whispered screech instead.

But that wasn’t the reason why Martin stopped in his track, it was the sentence that escaped Louisa’s mouth. No one else other than those two front desk staffs, Louisa and Eve, was around, which meant Louisa was addressing the issue of Eve resigning.

Of all surprise Martin had been getting today, this was the most shocking one. Eve and the word ‘resign’ truthfully didn’t match well in one sentence. Everyone—including Martin to some extent, thanks to the talking walls of the building—knew how much Eve enjoyed her job, being a lifelong fan of Arsenal herself.

“I am,” Eve sounded firm and final from where Martin stood behind the wall. “I just submitted my resignation letter to George this morning.”

“Did you get an offering from somewhere else?” Lou asked, but Martin somehow knew the answer to that question before Eve even answered her partner. “I knew they’re not paying you well for the fantastic job you’ve been doing.”

“It’s not that, Lou,” Eve let out a very tired sigh. It was starting to feel like she wasn’t even trying to put up with the reserved persona today, she was as she sounded like; simply exhausted and resigned. “I don’t know why you haven’t heard anything yet when it’s literally what everyone’s been talking about. Bob cheated on me with my friend, Lou. He brought her along to the physio’s internal party last week, when I was mourning for my mother. Mourning, mind you!”

Yeah, Eve might put a foot on Martin’s nerves with no avail every morning since he signed for Arsenal but at that moment—God, fucking hell—Martin couldn’t decide which one irked him more:

a) there was a fellow human being that acted less humane than a pitted dog, or

b) it took another air-wasting scumbag to prove his own theory of Eve being capable to show emotion other than elation on her face.

“I can’t possibly face everyone here without being pitied by. I don’t want to let them pity me,” While her sentence induced a resolution, her strained voice gave away everything that was silently crumbling inside of her. “I’m not a charity case, for God’s sake.”

Nothing could fill in the seething anger and exasperation in the air.

“I can’t change your mind, can I?” Louisa asked, but the silence that followed pretty much answered everything.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Hi, Eve. I’m coming to get something from home.”

Eve could confidently say she has the ability to match a voice to a name without looking at the speaker, but this time she had to look up. None of the Colney residents sounded like this man, complete with an acquired Cockney pronunciation but a slightly mixed accent she couldn’t put her finger on.

Oh, how much she regretted sourcing where the voice came from.

“Hello? Earth to Eve?”

She had to remind herself to take a huge, deep breath and close her gaping mouth. “Martin.”

“Yes, Eve. Now can you—” It seemed Martin pursed his lips to stop himself from saying something. “Can I get the packs my mom sent me here?”

Eve almost fell off her seat at the significant difference in the tone Martin used before and after putting his lips on a straight line. Now, it was pretty clear he was agitated at first before biting his own tongue and calmed himself down, switching to a gentler tone—of which was the world’s newest seven wonders, Eve presumed.

“I—” It was honestly too much for Eve to take on at once that she had to remind herself to collect herself. “Yes, of course. They came this morning, let me get them for you.”

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

Okay, this is officially weird, Eve thought as she walked into the mailing room behind the partiture. First, instead of tailgating someone else to fetch his packages or letters, Martin graced his presence to the front office, alone. Second, he speak nicely to her. Thirdly, he was able to say ‘thank you’?!

“Here’s the small one, Jordan can help with the big one when you clock out.”

“Oh, no need. I’ll just hail it over my shoulder before I clock out,” Eve could definitely tell Martin was in awkward place, shifting his weight from the right foot to the left. “Where do I sign for these?”

Did someone dare him to talk to me? Eve couldn’t help but be suspicious. None of these made sense. “Here and here. There are also some mails from the fans back there. I’ve sorted them out for you.”

“Ah, okay. Great,” Martin reached for the pen as fast as the lightning. “Thanks.”

Oh, how much Eve hated this kind of pregnant silence. There was a reason why she wanted people to warm up to her so she could talk anything and everything to fill in these dreadful moments, but it seemed like Martin forgot to pick up the notes she left on the locker room.

Heck—Eve couldn’t think of anything else but Martin walking past her notes without sparing a glance. He’d detested anything that could relate him to her.

“I heard you’re resigning.”

Okay, the Earth is definitely ending tomorrow. Martin Ødegaard making small talk to her?!

“I see the wailing wall has reached your ears,” Eve tried to laugh off how much he put her into the same awkward place as he was. How could he know...? Is that my heart skipping a beat? “But yeah, I’ll be gone after the upcoming Manchester City game.”

“So soon, huh?” With that, Martin signed off everything necessary. “Have you thought about the parting gift?”

“I’ll probably send you all a customized letter or something.”

Eve couldn’t believe her ears as Martin scoffed at her idea. She was only joking, sure, but it enticed another reaction from the Norwegian other than annoyance? What kind of sorcery is this?

“You don’t strike me as someone who writes,” Shoot me, how the fuck did he know? “I’d quit with one last bang if I were you.”

“That’s a wonderful idea,” Eve couldn’t believe she was actually considering Martin’s idea. Oh, how much she’d like to leave an imprint here, especially to that ex-boyfriend of hers. She’d pay to make him regret his decision until the day he died. “But only if I knew how.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Martin picked up his box, signaling he was departing. “You’re a bright woman.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Morning, Eve.”

Even though Eve could now register his voice without seeing the handsome face, Eve swore to God she’d never get used to with Martin Ødegaard greeting her first. If he kept up with being this friendly—yes, at this point Eve considered Martin being friendly, despite their (still) lack of interaction—Eve might not survive the New Year.

“Oh! Hi, Martin!” She didn’t even bother covering up her surprise. “What can I get you today?”

“My mom sent me something again, she said.”

“Uh, I haven’t received any. I’ll let you know in theWhatsApp group if they’re here.”

“Alright, thanks,” and off he went.

Back again with two-word answers. Maybe Eve put the friendly label far too soon.

But it’s okay, she thought to herself. At least I resign from this place without any beef with anyone here.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?”

“Jesus, Martin!” Eve genuinely put her hands on her chest from the shock of Martin returning. She’d literally be dead before the New Year at this point. “I’m not smiling.”

“You are,” Eve wondered how Martin could say something meant to tease her with such a straight face. “I’m just going to take it as you’re planning the plan to leave this place with a bang.”

“Ah—yeah, about that,” Eve shifted her weight to the other feet nervously, remembering how she went to countless Tinder dates these past two weeks without any result as to whom she’d go to the party with. “I’m thinking of going to the Christmas party with someone but none of the dates I’ve met so far could go on par my standard.”

“And what is the standard?”

“Considering Bob’s ugly, I’d say someone younger than him but more good-looking than he’ll ever be,” Eve shrugged, masking off the disgust she once dated such guy. “But has to be way smarter than he is.”

“Okay, so in short,” Eve’s feet moved backwards on its own when Martin placed his crossed arms on the table, body leaning in towards her as if he was thinking hard. As if whatever Eve might say next interested him. “You need someone better in all aspects.”

“Exactly.”

“What if I know someone who might not be smarter but so much more popular than him?”

Martin’s helping her?! “Define more popular.”

“Verified account on Instagram.”

Martin’s helping her. When would this guy stop surprising her? “Awesome, when can I meet him? You know, to run through stuffs so he doesn’t blow—”

“Chill, Eve,” How could Martin sense she was getting excited but at the same time panicking because of hoshe badly wanted to blow Bob’s arse off the water? “He knows the deal.”

“He’s like, what? A professional con artist?” At her submission, Martin laughed. Like the genuine laugh she only saw when he was around others that was definitely not her. Like the one that lit up his entire face, cracking away that cold, Scandinavian features. “What are you, Martin Ødegaard? Why are you friends with such people?”

“As tempting as that idea sounds like, sadly I don’t have that kind of friends,” The smile remained etched on Martin’s face and Eve had to remind herself how to breathe properly. She was devastated he was the only person that wasn’t talking to her then, she was devastated he was the only person that could coax this bodily response out of her now. “What I mean is he knows about the whole Christmas party thing.”

“Is there another staff that’s single that I don’t know of?” Eve immediately recounted all of the single male staffs in the building that could potentially be her partner for a night in her mind. None that met her standard. “Who is it?”

“You’re looking at him.”

Image be damned, Eve must’ve contorted her face all in the wrong directions like she usually did when her friends dropped the bomb they were getting a gunshot wedding. Not that she was judgemental or anything, but it always came as a shock when they did, growing up together and all.

Who the fuck could contain their composure when Martin Ødegaard dropped the same kind of bomb? Nuclear might as well be more fitting in this context.

“What?” Martin’s face turned into something else, confidence was definitely not in the cards anymore. Eve immediately rectified her expression, not wanting the luxury of having Martin Ødegaard she’d seen minutes ago disappear into thin air. “Don’t I qualify?”

“No! I mean, yes—” Eve unconsciously reached for Martin’s arms when he started pulling himself away. “You do, you’re an excellent candidate—”

“But?”

“But you’re you,” Eve lifted her eyebrows in confusion, not knowing what else to say to emphasis he couldn’t possibly be her date for the Christmas party. “You’re Martin Ødegaard.”

“I don’t see anything that complicates your situation.”

Based on Martin’s expression, he truly didn’t see anything weird about it. About them coming from two whole different worlds. About them getting together meant it only happened in fairy tales. “You’re an Arsenal player. No one’s going to believe you’re going out with me.”

“Then we’ll make them believe.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Martin!”

As soon as she called the Norwegian, Eve regretted her action with her whole being. She moved without thinking much, too eager to talk the concerns that had been plaguing her for the past fortnight with her soon-to-be partner-in-crime, that she didn’t realise she was already reaching for his hands, stopping the football player in his place.

However, not only the said player stopped his tracks, but the rest of the canteen went silent at their once-in-a-lifetime—as far as the public knew anyway—interaction.

“Ummm,” Under everyone’s scrutiny, Eve faltered, her hands falling to her sides. “Uh, I—”

“Have my packages arrived?”

That was certainly not why she looked for him but as she met his eyes, she sensed that he was merely helping her out of the awkward situation. How she knew the hidden meaning behind his words, it was a wonder she certainly would have to figure out.

But later, not now, not when her brain was melting under the spotlight. How could Martin play a sold-out match almost every week? “Yes! Yes! The mailman needs your signature.”

“Alright, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Without further ado, Eve dashed out from the canteen without looking back.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of course, everyone would look at them. Eve and calling the name ‘Martin’ didn’t belong in the same sentence—couldn’t, even. As far as everyone was concerned, there was an Atlantic Ocean between them.

Eve didn’t even realise she was restlessly pacing back and forth in her small space of working until Martin got a hold of her wrist, stopping her motion. She turned around to face him, unfazed with what had just happened.

“You’re panicking.”

Oh, how much she wanted to scream ‘you think?!’ at his face.

“Breathe,” Martin’s eyes told her it wasn’t a moot point, so she did. She still felt like she’d explode anytime soon. “You should stop doing that, it doesn’t suit you.”

“What?”

“Panicking,” he answered as easy as the breeze brushing her face. If she wasn't busy sending signals to her brain to not puke on him, she’d notice her breath was now turning more regularly due to the small circles Martin drew on the back of her hand he was holding.

“What does, then?”

“Talking to people, so talk to me. What’s up?”

Eve swore she’d warn Martin to stop whiplashing her reality left and right with his unpredictable answers after they wrapped up this whole fiasco. Like he knew everything about her. Like he wasn’t breathing fire down her way a week ago whenever she tried to talk to him.

Now, she had to confide him her biggest concern. “I don’t think I can do it.”

Martin didn’t show any reaction to her submission. Not a blink, not a muscle pulled—nada. And it scared her because she was used to seeing people’s reaction to what she said. She liked Martin more when she could read between his lines, like how he saved her from a trouble less than five minutes ago, and not this expressionless one.

“Why are you not saying anything?”

“I thought you have more to say,” Martin replied, as if it was the most obvious thing she should know. “I told you not to think, just walk me through whatever it is you’re feeling.”

“And I told you, I don’t think I can pull it off.”

“Why?”

“I heard he’s going to come.”

“Isn’t that the whole point?” Martin was still so calm and composed, it terrified her. While she liked when people used their brain for most parts, she should’ve come to someone else who could actually support her decision. “What are we going to do if he’s not there?”

“He knows I hate going to places like that, where I go against the company’s policy for internal dating,” Eve shook her head fervently, trying to make sense to Martin, albeit knowing how futile her attempt would be. Martin was the club’s captain for a reason. “He’s not going to believe this charade, Martin.”

“Good thing I’m technically not an employee here, then.”

Eve internally groaned—well, she thought she kept it to herself but it seemed like Martin caught on it.

“Look, Eve,”

What’s that sound? Right, that was the sound of her heart taking a deep plunge as Martin held her in place by the shoulders. It was amazing how light his grip was but it made her senses aware of nothing else but his hands on her shoulders.

“What he’s doing is basically parading a trophy girlfriend. You know how brilliant you are by refusing him? You showed him that you’re so much more than that,” There goes another beat of my heart. No one had spoken to Eve like that, especially with such confidence towards herself, not even her girlfriends that she usually sought advice for. “By coming with me, you’re basically giving him a big, fat fuck you in his face because it takes someone like me for you to break your own rules. You’re going to show him you know you’re worth and that he’s not worth your time from the beginning.”

A small part of Eve didn’t want to cede to Martin’s logic, proving to herself she was worrying over something so useless. “But what if that wench’s also there, Martin? I can’t stand the disrespect—”

“No one will disrespect you while I’m there, Eve. Not under my watch, they won’t,” Eve had heard so many men saying such lines with the same level of resolution in his voice, but never one with the same amount of determination that laced his words and plastered on his face.

It was Martin’s game face, meaning he didn’t intend to entertain child’s play.

“They’ll have to step over my dead body.”

329 notes · View notes

the-offside-rule · 4 months

Text

Martin Ødegaard (Arsenal FC) - Pinnekjøtt

Christmas [From The Vault]

In the quaint city of Dramen, the snow fell gently on Christmas Eve as Martin prepared to share the magic of his homeland's traditions with his girlfriend, Y/n. His childhood home was decprated with twinkling lights and the scent of freshly baked gingerbread filled the air, just as it did when he was a child. Y/n had to fly out a little later as she wanted to spend time with her family before coming to Norway for the few days. This whole idea only happened because Martin was talking about something and Y/n didn't know what it was.

"I'm thinking of making pinnekjøtt." He announced as Y/n walked in from work. Her eyebrows scrunched together in a confused look. "What?" She asked. "Pinnekjøtt. You know it's like lamb? The- the-" He paused pointing to his ribs. "Lamb ribs?" Martin nodded. "Yes, very tasty." He smiled. "Never had it before." He was almost shocked, but then realised they hadn't really gone to Norway at all. His parents had come over to visit and the only time she really went was when the national team would be playing games while she wasn't at uni. "It's nice, but it's way better over in Norway when you get the actual stuff you need."

"So how about we visit Norway?" Y/n suggested. "Well, Im going for Christmas. I don't know if you want to come considering your family is here." Martin said. "I really don't mind. You have been here for a good few Christmases, why shouldn't I go visit your home country with you?" He thought about it. It was a brilliant idea, but would it work out? It might be too much, it might not be enough! We'll, there was only one way to find out.

As Y/n entered the home, having to Martin greeted her with a warm smile. "Velkommen til Norge, my love. Get ready to experience a true Norwegian Christmas." He said, his eyes filled with excitement. Y/n smiled and dropped her bags at the door. "Are we just jumping right in with these Christmas traditions?" Y/n asked as she put her scarf up on the coat hanger. "We are. I have so many different things planned." Martin smiled. "Ready?" Y/n clapped her hands together. "Born ready."

They started the evening with the lighting of the advent candles, each flame representing a week leading up to Christmas. "So basically, each candle is lit I church with each week that passes leading up to Christmas. I- Y/n, are you listening to me?" He asked. Y/n was fascinated as he spoke, and it came across as her not listening but it was farthest from the truth. "No, I am. I think I'm just tired and your voice sounds a lot like ASMR right now." Martin chuckled. "Well how about we move on, how's that?" He asked. Y/n shrugged. "It's up to you. You're my tour guide almost."

Martin led her to the fireplace and the couple sat together as they sipped on warm gløgg, a spiced mulled wine. Y/n couldn't help but chuckle as she struggled to pronounce the name correctly. Martin laughed, "Don't worry, even I find it tricky sometimes." Y/n took a sip. "It's nice though." Y/n smiled. "I don't want you to feel rushed, but I haven't put the tree up yet so I say we decorate and drink while we do it."

Martin handed Y/n a delicate Norwegian ornament, sharing stories of his childhood and the memories attached to each decoration. As they hung ornaments on the Christmas tree, Martin couldn't help but steal glances at Y/n. "What are you staring at?" Y/n asked as she caught Martin a few times. "You make everything look even more beautiful, Y/n." Martin smiled. Y/n grinned, playfully placing a bauble on Martin's nose. "Well, you're not too shabby yourself, Mr. Ødegaard. Our tree is lucky to have us." They shared a laugh, exchanging warmth amid the winter chill. Martin reached for mistletoe. "Guess what this means?" He smiled as he lifted the white berries over their heads. "You're going to steal a Christmas kiss, aren't you?" Y/n smiled contently as she reached around his neck. "Guilty as charged." He chuckled and pecked her lips gently. As they hung ornaments together, their laughter echoed through the apartment.

The aroma of pinnekjøtt wafted from the kitchen, and Y/n was eager to try this traditional Norwegian dish. "Is this what you were on about back home?" Y/n asked. "It is." Martin, donned in a festive sweater, served the dish with a side of raspeballer. "It's not Christmas without pinnekjøtt." he declared with a grin.

After the hearty meal, they bundled up in warm coats and scarves to venture outside. he couldn't help but admire the way the flakes settled in her hair. "Isn't the snow magical?" Je remarked, his eyes reflecting the joy he felt.

Y/n grinned. "Absolutely! It's like we're in a winter wonderland." She took his hand, feeling the warmth despite the cold surroundings. Martin chuckled and squeezed her hand. "You make everything magical, Y/n." He said. "You sap, come on!" They continued their walk, sharing anecdotes and laughter, creating a cocoon of happiness. Spotting a snow-covered bench, Martin walked over. "Let's sit for a while." He suggested. They snuggled close, and watched as the snow gently drifted to the ground. "You're my favorite Christmas gift." Martin whispered, taking Y/n by surprise. Blushing, Y/n replied; "You're mine too, Martin." They exchanged sweet nothings, the snowflakes adding a poetic touch to their love-filled conversations.

the starlit sky, they strolled through the snow-covered landscape, hand in hand. Y/n couldn't stop marveling at the serene beauty around her. "We should head back now before we freeze to death." Martin said, standing up and heading back home eith Y/n hooked to his arm.

On their way to return to the apartment, Martin suggested making a visit to the local church for the midnight service. "We do that at home too. Do you usually go when I'm not heretic?" Y/n asked. "Mama would make us wear our best clothes and go but I do miss it now that I'm obviously grown up." He replied. "Obviously?" Martin squeezed his girlfriend's hand playfully as they walked into the beautiful chapel together. The ethereal hymns echoed through the wooden structure, creating a sense of peace that filled their hearts.

When the church service had finished and everyone had stopped fussing over Martin, the pair made their way back to the apartment. Back at the apartment, Martin thought it was time they exchanged gifts, and Martin handed Y/n a small box. Inside was a handcrafted piece of Norwegian jewelry, a symbol of their shared Christmas memories. "Oh Martin, its beautiful." Y/n felt tears of joy as she hugged him tightly. The couple came apart as they heard the church bells ringing. As the clock struck midnight, they stood together by the window, watching the snowfall. Martin whispered, "God jul, my love." Martin smiled. "God jul, Martin."

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of love and the enchantment of Norwegian Christmas traditions, Martin Ødegaard and Y/n created a memory that would forever be etched in their hearts.

#football #football imagines #football blurbs #martin ødegaard x y/n #martin ødegaard oneshot #martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard imagine #christmas imagine #christmas fanfic #christmas fic

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footballerimaginess · 4 months

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Kissing Father Christmas

25 Days Of Christmas 16. “I saw Mummy kissing Father Christmas” Martin Odegaard Word Count: 316 Christmas was slowly approaching, your little girl Alice was so excited for Christmas. She was at the perfect age to understand Christmas a little better.

Martin was just so happy for Alice to finally understand he had decided that this was the year he was dressing up as Father Christmas. He was so excited that he had ordered the costume way in advance, so he was fully prepared for it all. "Right I have wrapped up all the presents, obviously the bike isn't being attempted because I can't wrap to save my life so I don't wanna risk that" you laughed as you dragged all of the presents in as you heard a bang. "What was that?" you jumped, as you looked back in the living room to see Martin getting dressed as Santa. "Martin, I thought someone had broken into the house you made me jump" you playfully slapped his arm. "Sorry I needed to play the part and get into the whole father Christmas part" he laughed as he pulled the white beard up. "Mm I like that look" you laughed as you pulled your phone out as you took a video of him acting as Santa when Martin moved over to kiss you whilst getting white fluff in your mouth. You heard a little noise coming from behind the door and there was someone standing at the door. "I saw Mummy kissing Father Christmas" Alice whispered as she pointed at Martin as his eyes widened. "This isn't the real Santa, nobody has ever seen him. This is just Daddy dressed up?" you pulled his beard down and Martin smiled. "Oh" Alice muttered. "You don't get to see Santa, he has to do it when you're sleeping so you don't peek at your presents" you smiled as Alice snuggled up to Martin. "So up to bed you?" you ushered her out of the room.

#25 days of christmas #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard x reader #football imagines #football imagine #football x reader #football one shots #football one shot #futbol imagines #futbol imagine

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cainnleacghlovers · 1 year

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Daisy - MØ

Pairing: Martin Ødegaard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N’s a teacher, and there’s nothing she loves more in the world than her students, well maybe Martin. What does he do, when he sees her with her students, and all he can see is a little him running around.

Request: “I just thought of this so i wanted to request an imagine if it's possible! Maybe where reader is a teacher and Martin sees how good she is with kids (her students) so he thinks of having a kid?”

Warnings: pure fluff!!!

Rushing around, you bumped into the coffee table.

“Sorry.” You apologised to the literal table. But after being around little humans aged 5 years old all day, it was habit you’d picked up.

You swore you’d bought seeds for your kids to plant, but where were they?

Not under the coffee table (obviously), they weren’t in the garage, and they weren’t in the drawer were you stuff everything when someone’s coming over.

As you ran to check the office at the front of the house, you heard the door open and were met with a strong body against your own. Looking up through your eyelashes, you met eyes with a pair of blue ones.

They were the kindest eyes ever, not a single bad thought behind them.

“You training for a marathon Elskling?” Martin joked, as he dropped his training bag, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close into his chest as he pressed soft kisses in your forehead.

As you melted into his embrace, you sighed lightly, and felt his hands tracing your bsck softly, spelling ‘i love you.’

It’s something he did when he knew you were stressed, and it was a silent way of letting you know he was there.

You were used to little mouths shouting at you all day, so it was nice to come home and well, not have a little mouth shouting at you.

“Looking for seeds.” You mumbled, still pressed against his chest.

“You shall proceed?” Martin laughed. He assumed it was one of your ‘Lord of the Ring’ jokes.

“Looking for seeds.” You huffed, pulling away from him and looking back up at him.

“Looking for seeds? No way! I knew the Gardens of Babylon were real!” He bantered, making you laugh.

Your students found it mind blowing that no one knew whether this garden was real or not, and when you told Martin the story, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked about your students.

You had so much love for all of them. Even when they got paint all over the walls of your classroom.

“You need to stop hanging around Ben White. You’re picking up that sarcastic English lad humour.” You said, as you smacked his chest lightly.

“He still has a crush on you, you know.” Martin laughed.

You knew Ben didn’t actually like you, he just flirted with anything that had a pair of boobs.

“What’s the seeds for then?” He asked, as he took your hand and led you into the living room.

“I thought it would be a fun little thing for the kids to do. You know the way we always do something fun on Fridays with them.” You spoke, and Martin nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Well it’s warm out, and I thought it would be nice to plant little flowers with them. Mothers days coming up, so I thought it would be a sweet gesture for the kids to give to their mums.” You finished.

Martins eyes turned dark as he listened to your last sentence.

It was no secret, he wanted kids. He didn’t necessarily want them now, but he wanted them. He was a family guy through and through. The thought of a little boy running about with his blonde hair, and your eyes, or a little girl with your hair and his eyes, made him absolutely weak in the knees.

He knew you’d be a good mother, he’d seen you with your students. He’s seen their faces light up when you walked in the room, you seen the love they had for you, and the love you had for them.

He hadn’t even realised, he’d been daydreaming, until you clicked your fingers in front of him.

“Martin, are you away down the yellow brick road? Click your heels three times. Oh they have to be red, let me go get you my hee-” You joked, before he he pulled you onto his lap, and was peppering kisses all over your face.

You were a giggling mess under him, and at that moment he swore he’d never heard anything better.

“Martin I have to find my seeds!” You managed to get out, as he stopped tickling the weak spot under your arms.

“Well call me Christopher Columbus because we’d got seeds to find.”

—

As you opened the front door, you were met with the smell of something.

The smell of something really good.

Carrying your bags in, you set your laptop down on the kitchen island, as you seen Martin at the oven.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, as you pressed kisses on his back.

“How was your day elskling?” He asked, as he turned to face you, his arms settling around your waist.

“Really really good. We planted the flowers in little pots the kids painted earlier this week. Oh! And guess what!” You slightly shouted, covering your mouth, embarrassed at your own excitement.

Martin laughed lightly, before his hands found the back of your thighs, and he had you hoisted up on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm. I’m all out of guesses today unfortunately.” He said, as he took your heels off, and lightly messaged your feet, knowing they’d be sore from running after children all day.

He began to kiss up your legs, and his hands trailed shortly after his lips, before he reached your neck, placing light kisses there.

Nothing sexual, just the pure love he head for you.

“You know the way I was looking to get the kids involved in the local pantomime?” You grinned, as his lips found your cheek.

He mumbled a ‘yes’ against your skin, before he pulled away, satisfied with the love he’d shown you. Not that he’d ever be able to show all of it, there was far too much of that.

“Well, the board of governors agreed! Saltwood Primary are going to be up winning Oscars next year. Let’s hope there’s not slapping though.” You giggled against Martins lips as he placed a soft kiss onto them.

“I’m so excited for you elskling, I know how much you wanted this. Book me a front row seat. I’ll be right there.”

“By the way, i’m so going to make your practise lines with me to see if they’ll sound good.”

“They don’t call me Hugh Jackman for no reason.”

—

As you waited at the entrance of the local theatre, greeting the kids and their parents on the way in. You smiled brightly at every single one of them.

They’d put in so much effort, and you really hoped this night would go really really well. For their sake, and yours.

Finally, you spotted the man you’d been waiting to see all night. The sight of him, dressed in his jeans and a casual tshirt already made you feel so much better. He winked at you as he walked in.

He’d skipped training to come see this, and that made your heart beat so fast, it threatened to break your ribcage.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” You whispered.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said, giving you one last wink, before he headed into the theatre.

—

As you headed into the theatre, you spotted Martin chatting away to a man in an Arsneal shirt, as you felt little arms around your legs.

You looked down and seen a little boy called James in your class.

He was a sweet boy, who was very quiet. He often had trouble telling people what was wrong with him, and you’d assured him that it’s okay to talk about his big feelings, and it’s more than okay to feel like that. You told him he should never be afraid to come speak to you, even if he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Hiya cool cat.” You said, using the nickname you had for your students. You’d shown them pictures of your cat, and he had a brown spot over his eye.

To a five year old, that’s the coolest thing ever, and the nickname just stuck.

Bending down to his level, you seen he looked worried.

“What’s up with you James? Your costume looks absolutely amazing! Give us a twirl.” You said, trying to distract the little boy. You knew he was worried about getting up in front of people. You didn’t blame him.

As he span around for you, he collapsed into your arms, and you instantly picked him up and took him aside.

Not pressuring him, you allowed him to take his time, if he wanted to tell you what was wrong, he would.

“I don’t wanna mess up Miss Y/SN.” He sighed, looking at you with watery eyes.

“Aw James. Is that what’s been on your mind lovebug?” You sighed with sympathy.

“I don’t wanna let you down.” He said.

“James, look at me buddy. I am so so so proud of you okay? I’m proud of your feet that’s learnt all the dances so well!” He giggled, as your annunciated your sentence.

“I’m proud of your knees that allow you to jump around all night and not get tired!” You exclaimed, as he began to smile.

“I’m proud of your eyes, and how you’re able to give a little bit of attitude, even if mummy will tell you off for it.” You said, making him smile at his role in the play.

He was the mouse in the Gruffalo, and he did have to give a little bit of attitude, which he loved.

“And most importantly, i’m proud of this James.” You said, as your brought his arms so his hands were over his heart.

“I am so proud of the boy you’re becoming James. Everyday you work harder to reach your goal, and you’ve reached it James! And i’m so proud of you. You could get up on that stage tonight, and, come here.” You ushered him closer, so you could whisper in his ear.

“You could say a rude word, and I’d still be proud of you!” He giggled loudly at your joke, and a soft smile fell across your lips.

When your students were sad, you were. When they were happy, you were.

“But you’re not going to do that, are you?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“I’ll tell you what you are going to do, okay. You’re going to get on that stage, and you’re going to make everyone proud. Me, mummy, daddy, but most importantly, yourself. What’re you going to do James?” You asked him.

“Make myself proud.” He repeated, and you gave him a high five.

“Now let’s go show everyone how us cool cats do it.” You said, before you followed him back into the theatre, unknown to you, Martin had watched and heard your little interaction, and he knew he had to ask you.

—

As the show went on, Martin couldn’t help but notice how excited you’d get when one of your students said their like perfectly.

As the show ended, and all the children were bowing, you stood up the tallest, and you cheered the loudest for them.

James, took the microphone, and Martin noticed you were a bit taken back. This obviously wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Could Miss Y/SN please come up on stage?” The little boy said, and you blushed, not at all expecting this. You knew your classroom assistant was planning something.

As you walked up on stage, you ruffled the hair of a few of your students, and walked to centre stage, waving out to the audience.

“Can we get a round of applause for Miss Y/SN.” Maria said, another little girl in your class.

As the whole theatre cheered for you, you couldn’t help but linger at the man sitting front row, just as he promised. He sat along with your bother, who’s son happened to be in your class. He gave you a wink, and as the cheering died down, Maria passed the microphone to Paige.

“From all of us, we wanted to say thank you to Miss Y/SN for all the hard work and how nice she is to us! You’re the best teacher.” As the audience laughed at her cute joke, you couldn’t help but wipe a tear.

The fact your students appreciated you made everything worth while.

The microphone was passed to you, and you cleared your throat before continuing.

“I promise myself I wouldn’t cry but here I am.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

“I just want to thank each and every one of these cool cats up on stage with me. They’ve worked so so hard, and i’m so glad tonight went well for them. I think we’ve got some future BAFTA winners up here tonight.” You joked again, making the audience laugh.

“Group hug.” You said, turning your attention to your students as they all ran into hug you. The audience cheered, and you all waved before you went off stage.

—

Walking around the theatre, you shook hands with parents and thanked them for coming. Seeing James, you gave him and his parents a wave, before ha suddenly crashed into you. You hugged him back, seeing his mum smile at the two of you.

“He adores you.” His mum said, smiling at you.

“He’s the loveliest boy. You should be very proud of him.” You gushed, as you waved a final goodbye to them.

As Martin walked past you, he whispered, “I’ll meet you in the car.” Before heading out.

—

As you made your way to the car, making sure all of your students got home safely, you opened the door, and climbed into the seat, only to be greeted with a bunch of daisies, your favourite flowers.

“Are these for me?” You asked, love traced in your voice.

“No they’re for Gary next door.” Martin joked, referring to your slightly, what’s the word, unhinged neighbour.

He walked his rat. That’s all there is to say.

“Of course they’re for you beautiful.” He said, and you blushed, as you grabbed his cheeks and placed a loving kiss on his lips. As you pulled away, he took your jaw in his hands, and pulled you right back in.

The kiss, lasting longer than you expected, left you breathless, as you eventually pulled away and leaned your forehead against his.

“Let’s get home then. I need to run my hardworking girl a bath.”

—

As you lay in the bath, Martin behind you, his legs on either side of yours, you sighed in content.

Everything in life was perfect. Your job, your friends, and most importantly, your boy.

As you leant against his hard chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your front, one hand tracing your stomach.

He was surprisingly quiet, and he had been for the last few days. He did have a few big games coming up, but it wasn’t that.

You and Martin had been together since your last year of school, and you knew him well.

You knew he wanted to ask you something, but he just couldn’t get it out.

“You’d be the best mum.” He finally said, and your stomach flipped. You had not expected that.

Turning around to look at him, you noticed the blush on his cheeks, and a sheepish grin across his face.

“W-what?” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Shit, uhm, I didn’t mean to say that-” He rambled, and you shut him up with a kiss. As he pulled away from you, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s just, seeing you with your students, I just, I can’t help think what a baby with my hair and your eyes would be like. I know you’d be such a good mum, I have no doubts about that, but I don’t know if-”

You shut him up with another light kiss.

“You’d be the best dad sweetheart.” You smiled again this lips.

“You think?” He said, as you felt him smile against yours.

“I’m never wrong.” You said, making him laugh lightly as his hands caressed your hips lightly.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad.” He said, and although he was vulnerable, he wasn’t embarrassed. He’d never felt closer to you.

“And I know that it’s you who’s going to be the mother of my children. There’s absolutely no one else i’d rather. No one.” He punctuated the last two words, with a kiss after each word.

You two had lightly spoken about kids, but never in this much detail.

“I think i’d like a boy and a girl. But no matter what they are, i’ll love the bones of them.” You said, and Martins heart fluttered at the thought of you holding his baby. Your baby.

“Yeah. I like that. A boy and a girl. But i’d love them even if they were a Madrid fan.” He joked, pretending to gag.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the only sound was the slight gushing of the water when one of you moved.

As the water began to get cold, Martin stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself, before he grabbed one for you.

As you stepped out, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were absolutely perfect to him. There’s not one thing he sees wrong with you.

From your boobs, to your heart. He loves everything about you.

As he wrapped the towel around you, he placed a light kiss on your forehead.

“I love you. So much.” He said.

“I love you too. So much.” You repeated back to him.

“How about we get practising then?” He joked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You know what they say, practise makes perfect.” You joked, before he swept you off of your feet, and right into your bedroom.

How cute was this🥹🥹 I’m thinking of a part 2?? With some really cute sex… let me know what you think!!

#footballer imagine #footballer x you #martin odegaard #martinodegaardfluff #martin odegaard imagine #martinodegaardxyou #martinodegaardfanfic #martinodegaardxreader #martinodegaardsmut #footballer fluff

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julianalvarez9 · 1 year

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part of the family / martin ødegaard

request: hi! I love the socmed au with martin’s sister dating haaland, I was wondering if you’re able to do something with it being in reverse? haaland’s sister dating martin. if not it’s okay! i adore your works 🥺💗

author's note: at first i was gonna do it like this!!! had read wrong the request jajsjsj hope this looks good 😭

summary: erling proves to have good aiming not only on the pitch, but off it too, when he sets up his sister with his national team captain successfully.

yourusername

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yourusername sunsets never were so bright and the skies never so blue 💌

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erlinghaaland i think i know who that is 🧐

yourusername do you know how to keep secrets?

yourusername

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yourusername missed my 5ft 10in baby

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user1 this is oddly specific

erlinghaaland i miss him too

yourusername you had him last week!! :(

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yourusername

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yourusername what not listening to your girlfriend does to a norwegian under the sun for too long

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erlinghaaland looks like a tomato 🍅😂

yourusername don't be mean to him

user1 HARD LAUNCH ALERT

user2 erling gave it away in february 😂

user3 matching blue 🤭 ødegaard to city 🔜

yourusername he's red inside and out unfortunately

odegaard.98 yourusername taking the jokes a bit too far there

erlinghaaland odegaard.98 she's my sister after all 😂

yourusername

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yourusername thanks to my hairstylist for the look! 💇🏻‍♀️

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user1 is this why erling's hair is always braided?

user2 at last someone's asking the right questions! 🤭

user3 please marry him

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#football imagines #football imagine #football x you #football instagram au #football social media au #martin ødegaard x reader #martin odegaard x reader #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagine #martin ødegaard x you #martin odegaard x you

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footywritingworks · 1 year

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Feels like Home {Martin Ødegaard x fem!Reader}

Summary: Cuddling with your boyfriend is the best medicine after a hard day.

Wordcount: 900

Warnings: fluff, stress from work

This was inspired by a conversation I had with @julianalvarez9 and the Martin brainrot is still very much real

Your day had driven you up the wall. It had started in the morning when you noticed you had forgotten your tram card and had to walk back home to get it, missing your tram in the process. Consequently, you were at work later than usual, which cut your time to prepare a very important meeting short.

The meeting also had gone on longer than anticipated so you missed your usual lunchtime. By that point you were nauseous by the lack of food. The nausea carried on throughout the rest of the day even after eating lunch and when your boss had come in with more work that made you stay overtime you were completely worn out.

It was already evening when you walked into your shared home with your boyfriend, dragging your feet, shoulders heavy. You were welcomed by your dog jumping up at you all excited and it made a smile take over your face.

"Hello my boy. I'm so happy to see you too. You missed me, huh?"

You scratched him behind the ears as he continued to pant and wagged his tail. You kept petting him as you saw a figure walking up behind him. Looking up you saw your boyfriend leaning against the doorway of your living room, a smile on his face and a gentle look in his crystal blue eyes. You smiled back at him.

It was like all the stress had evaporated as soon as you saw him. Standing up and walking over to him he embraced you with open arms. You always loved his hugs. The way his arms wrapped around your waist tightly and tucking your head just under his neck as his warmth surrounded you. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment as he kissed your forehead in greeting.

"Hey kjære. I missed you today. I put out some clothes for you to change into. Then we can eat dinner and cuddle on the couch."

His hands were now on the side of your face, his thumbs caressing your cheekbones. A tired smile graced your lips.

"How do you always know just what I need when I come home?"

He smiled back and leaned down to press a kiss on your lips.

"It's my superpower babe. Now go change I'll get dinner ready."

With one last kiss you pulled away from Martin and made your way upstairs to your bedroom, where a pair of his sweatpants and one his his hoddies were laid out on the bed. The hoddie was one of your favorites. An Arsenal one he wore to most home matchdays and let you wear it when he was on away games or when you just needed some comfort like today. It was warm and smelled like him, the perfect combination to relax.

After you had changed in his clothes you went back down where he was already sitting on the dinner table, waiting for you with a big smile.

"I love it when you wear my clothes."

His accent had gotten just a bit thicker at that comment. Of course you knew what you wearing his clothes did to him. But you also knew he wouldn't try to insinuate anything more than cuddles tonight. You kissed his cheek and sat down, seeing one of your favorite pasta dishes was served.

"Did you cook this?"

You glanced up in surprise. Normally you were the one to cook dinner or you ordered something when none of you felt like cooking. But seeing him put the effort in to make it just that bit easier for you warmed your heart. Martin chuckled.

"Yeah I did. I'm not as useless in the kitchen as you might think I am. And I wanted to do something nice for you."

Tears had built up in your eyes and you took his hand and gave it a squeeze to show your appreciation. While you are Martin told you all about the shenanigans the Arsenal team had been up to and it made you laugh wholeheartedly. Sometimes these boys would just do the weirdest stuff. Martin knew you didn't want to talk about your day so distracting you was the best possible option. And he was right. Little by little the bright smile he loved so much came back to your face and your eyes had started to sparkle again as well.

After dinner he commanded you on the couch while he washed up and you did just that, cuddling up into a blanket and petting your dog that had found his place on your lap. It was evenings like these where you felt most comfortable. At home with Martin and your dog and just spending some time together.

At last, Martin had come out of the kitchen and laid down with you on top of him, your bodies covered in the fluffy blanket you had before. He had you tucked just unter his chin as he ran his fingers through your hair and rubbing your back while watching a movie on the TV. You could feel your lids getting heavier, a result of your body being as relaxed as it could be. Martin noticed it of course.

"Close your eyes baby. Go to sleep. You deserve it. I love you."

You mumbled an 'I love you' back and felt yourself drifting into a deep sleep. And when you woke up in the middle of the night, you were in your bed with Martin behind you and his arms wrapped around you in an embrace. Just like every night.

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard x reader #martin ødegaard #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagine #Martin Ødegaard x Reader

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yellowkitkieran · 5 months

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To Have and to Heal (Part 15)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Could we talk?

When your message appears on his phone, Martin doesn't believe his eyes. At first he assumes he is dreaming; a quick pinch to his forearm and the subsequent brief burst of pain confirms he is, indeed, awake. He laughs to himself then, a giddy, overjoyed sound as he reads the message from you again and again, enough times that the words are burned into his eyelids when he closes them.

Rearranging his schedule to pick up Atla today had been worth it. Incurring Arteta's wrath for sneaking out early? Also very, very worth the reward. Even if nothing comes of it, even if you don't have the courage or wherewithal to send him a follow up response, Martin can live with that, as long as he has some closure.

His fingers shake as he types out a casual, cool, collected response. Of course! Now? Tomorrow? When are you thinking?

Nailed it, honestly. Not overly eager. Simple and to the point. Leaves nothing up to interpretation. Martin is still sweating bullets regardless.

For a few minutes, Martin simply stares at his phone until his eyes water and he is forced to blink some moisture into them. He tries not to fret when you don't immediately reply. It's late; there is a good chance you're either sleeping or prepping for your classes tomorrow. Despite his racing heart, sweating palms and pacing feet, Martin somehow convinces himself that he is perfectly calm. He's definitely not freaking out. Nope. He's fine. Toooootally fine.

Though that fragile construct comes crashing down when Martin's phone vibrates. Whenever you have an hour or so free? After school of course. I can come to you?

Absolutely. Friday? I'll be done at six. But I'll come to you though.

Martin immediately arranges for Kieran to take Atla overnight as a precaution. Who knows what might happen? Martin doesn't want to get his hopes up, but regardless of how things go, he knows he will be a volatile bucket of emotions and he'll need some time to process. He would rather do that on his own than have his daughter around to witness it. Good or bad, Friday will be… interesting, to say the least.

Friday at six thirty then. That works. I'll see you then

The expectation of hearing from you again is dashed when twenty four hours pass with nothing new. Martin's phone is far from quiet thanks to the Arsenal group chat, which thankfully keeps him busy and occupied on his day off whilst Atla is at school. Martin even arranges to pick Atla up himself, though he's disappointed to find another teacher in charge of after school care instead of you.

Tomorrow, he tells himself. Tomorrow is my second chance.

And Martin is completely, utterly, wholly determined to grab the opportunity with both hands and run with it. He refuses to squander his relationship with you a second time. He will say all the right things, fall over himself to make all the right promises, and follow through with each one of them. Because if Martin is being honest with himself, the last time he felt about someone like this… He married them.

On his way into Colney the next morning, Martin passes by Atla’s favorite bookshop. It is a quaint, family owned place located on a busy corner in north London. He glances at their window displays when he is stopped at the light, as he often does.

And Martin does a double take- the sign in the window promotes a new romance book, titled ‘Second Chances Only Come Once’, written by the author of the hit book ‘She’s the One’.

The grin plastered on Martin’s face is indicative enough. If he had been waiting for a sign, that would be it. The sky over London is a bright, vibrant orange, streaked through with rich reds and subtle yellows. The sunrise is the exact shade of Maria’s favorite paint- Windsor Orange, a color she claimed felt like home. Each Christmas Martin would buy her a year’s supply to ensure she didn’t run out.

“Thank you,” Martin murmurs to the sky. A light breeze ruffles his hair through the open car window, and the smile does not leave Martin’s face for the entire drive.

Kieran doesn't ask questions at training that morning- he's simply excited to spend some quality time with his goddaughter. Kieran does not question Martin’s good mood, not even when Martin convinces Arteta to go easy on the team and skip the half dozen extra drills he had scheduled and opt for an extra gym session instead.

Martin pays very little attention whilst Kieran rattles off a long list of things he's planned to entertain Atla, including a trip to Harrods to spoil her rotten. Normally that sort of thing would irk Martin, but today the thought barely registers.

“Uh huh, sounds great,” Martin murmurs noncommittally, “Perfect. Atla will love it.”

“Mate, you've not heard a word I've said. You're fine with me taking her on a shopping spree? You normally yell at me for that! What happened to ‘she's got enough toys,’ eh?” Kieran makes air quotes there, referring to the dozens of times Martin has argued that point. That, at least, causes Martin to pause.

“What? Oh- I mean sure if that's what you want to do with her I won't stop you, she'll enjoy it. Really she will-”

Kieran sets his weight down and rests his elbows on his knees. Everyone always says that blue eyes are unnerving, but Martin knows the truth- it's the unflinching, hard brown eyes that really do you in. Martin clears his throat, squirming under the pressure of Kieran's stare. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what? There's nothing to tell.” Martin scarcely believes himself as unconvincing as his words are. Kieran simply blinks, which somehow is even more unnerving than the original stare. Martin sighs, knowing his friend will not let up until he uncovers the truth. “Alright fine- I'm talking to solskin tonight. It's not a big deal!”

Kieran, knowing better than to pry, simply nods firmly. “Good. Maybe you'll quit moping around the grounds then. Honestly it's getting tiring, carrying this entire team on my shoulders. I cannae do it all on my own, you know.”

Martin cracks a grin, “I know mate. Hopefully after tomorrow I can take some of that pressure off you.”

*********

Martin, Martin, Martin. For nearly forty eight full hours, the Norwegian midfielder fills every corner of your brain. You're barely able to make it through your lessons, as distracted as you are by the thought of seeing him again. In a private setting. Alone. At your house.

Why did you agree to this again?

Friday evening, you frantically clean your already clean flat. You agonize over whether or not to leave the blanket slung over the sofa- is it too suggestive? Or is it just cosy? You wind up leaving it. You are fully aware that you are overthinking. That doesn’t stop you from rearranging the shoes in the entry three times until you’re positive they are just the right amount of messy.

Deciding on an outfit is nearly as chaotic- with Jen's help you settle on comfort over chic, opting for your favorite pair of jeans and a loose, warm sweater. Your hair you leave in your usual style, not putting too much effort in. This is not a date, as you have to continually remind yourself. It is simply a chat, nothing more.

Waiting is the hardest part. You sit on your sofa with a random show on for background noise, something about the history of the crown jewels. Should you have cooked? Six thirty is dinner time, ish- maybe he's expecting a meal? Oh god-

The doorbell interrupts your thoughts and you spring into action. You wipe your palms on your jeans before opening the front door, pasting a smile on your face that you pray appears genuine. Your eyes start at his feet- black and white Nike dunks, light wash jeans, and a black bomber style jacket- and end on his soft, angelic face. You quickly meet his eyes, lasting all of one second under the gentle scrutiny of his baby blues before heat floods your cheeks and you are forced to look away.

“Hey- hi Mr. Ødegaard, please come in.”

Martin's hands slide into his pockets, thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “I'm not coming in until you drop the formality, solskin.”

You swear your very soul responds to the nickname. It glides so easily off his tongue, as though no time has passed despite the cold shoulder you have given him. With one sentence, Martin crosses the chasm between the pair of you without a second thought, throwing you a lifeline to cling to whilst you try to wade through the sea of emotions that threatens to overwhelm your good sense.

“Okay,” you murmur, “Okay. Please come in, Martin.”

“Mar,” he corrects softly, tipping his head to meet your downcast eyes. “Please call me Mar.”

Only when you nod in agreement does he finally relent and enter. He bends to untie his shoes and hangs his jacket on the hook behind the door. There is a familiarity in his actions, like he has done this a hundred times instead of being able to count the number of occurrences on one hand.

“Um, please have a seat,” you say around the bile creeping up your throat. You haven't been this nervous since your first day teaching. It feels as if one wrong move will leech away the confidence you've spent ages rebuilding; brick by brick you've had to remind yourself that you deserve this. One step at a time.

“Thank you.” Martin makes himself comfortable on the sofa, one arm slung over the back. It strikes you then how well he fits in. Despite his undoubtedly expensive clothes, he does not seem out of place in a room filled with mostly second hand things. The cream of his shirt perfectly matches the blanket you worried over earlier. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume they were cut from the same cloth.

You clear your throat and carefully perch on the opposite side. You smooth the wrinkles from your sweater, suddenly self conscious of your appearance. Shit, you forgot to offer him a drink!

“Would you uh- would you like a drink? There's water, soda, uh… milk I think?”

Martin's smile is like a physical caress, calming your nerves. Whether he realizes it or not is uncertain, “I'm alright for now, thank you solskin. You wanted to talk?”

How is he so calm right now? How are you not calm? You're the one that asked for this. You prepared, didn't you? Spent hours on the phone with Jess last night, coming up with bullet points of what needed to be said. How have you suddenly forgotten it all?

“Solskin,” Martin prompts softly. “Hey? I'm perfectly okay sitting in silence but if you have something to say, I want to make sure you're heard.”

“Stop- just stop being so charming for two minutes,” you mumble. You press two fingers to your temples and try to get your ducks in a row. You requested to speak with Martin, yes. You wanted to discuss the potential of moving forward. You wanted to tell him you still care about him. Okay. Okay. Basics first.

You take a deep breath and straighten your spine. Cheating your body towards Martin's you begin, “I still care about you a lot. More than I should considering you're the parent of one of my students- don't do that,” you scold when Martin tips his head side to side. Martin grins, forcing you to fight to keep your mental train on the right track. “As I was saying, you're the parent to one of my students and I shouldn't even have asked to speak with you. I should've taken what happened as a sign from the universe, an easy way out but I just…”

“Can't let it end, yeah.” Martin finishes the thought on your behalf. You nod, grateful that he was able to voice it when you couldn't.

“Right. But I also know that your daughter has to come first, and I don't want to suggest otherwise. Atla loves you and you're all she has, I know she looks up to her papa. I know she doesn't want to see you with anyone other than her mum, and maybe she's just too young to understand, which means this was all just a waste of time and ishouldn'thaveinvitedyouanyway-”

Your words rush out in one long heap, piling over each other and overlapping at the ends. Tears prick your eyes and suddenly you feel so incredibly stupid for thinking this could work in any capacity. Martin reaches for your hand but you pull it away, unable to bear the thought of him touching you, knowing you'll only crumble.

“I want this to work Mar, I really do. But I can't ask you to choose between me and your family, it's not right. I don't want to sneak around either,” you add in haste when Martin opens his mouth. “I won't be the reason your daughter hates you. I won't tear apart your home. I just won't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself.”

Once he's positive you're finished, Martin cautiously scoots closer to you. He watches for any sign that you'll flee, and when you don't move a muscle he wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you to his chest. This time you allow it, because you know you'll never have this luxury again.

Martin's hand runs over your arm whilst he silently soothes you. Your nose is buried in his shoulder, his cologne imprinting itself in your memory. It baffles you how such a simple thing can bring you so much comfort. But slowly, like molasses dripping from a spile, you feel the coils of tension stored in your muscles unknot themselves. Slowly, you feel yourself winding down, your breath coming in even intervals instead of panicked gasps. Your hands, which had fisted themselves tight in the cotton of his shirt, unfurl to rest flat on his chest.

“That speech was quite noble solskin, but I think you've forgotten something.”

You sniffle, determined not to cry despite the battle raging within yourself. “What did I forget Mar?”

“That you're part of my home now,” Martin says into your hair. “If you're determined not to let anything ruin my home, you need to include yourself in that.”

Martin is terrible at articulating how he feels. You've grown used to it; you may not have dated for long but it only took a handful of dates to realize that his trauma ran deep, and that he played his cards close to his chest. So that display of warmth, of what he truly feels inside, is rarer than a diamond. You want to nestle it against your heart and keep it protected behind your ribcage. It is worth more than any precious gem.

Without thinking, you reach up and cradle Martin's jaw. You smile sadly when he presses his cheek into your hand, your thumb soothing a line under his eye. He's so beautiful- tender and raw and open. Vulnerable. A side you never expected him to share with you.

“I don't want you to put me before Atla,” you say softly, mindful of how fragile he is beneath your fingertips. You have to be gentle; if you're not he may never trust anyone again.

Martin covers your hand, fingers tight around yours. “And I don't want that either. I want you both on the same level. I-” Martin stops himself, his throat bobbing under the weight of words left unsaid. “I care about you so, so much. I just want you in my life. That’s all I want.”

“Then Alta needs to understand that I'm not replacing her mum. She needs to understand that before we even think about doing anything, Mar. You can't risk hurting the relationship you have with your daughter.”

“I know. I will. I'll get it all sorted and then it'll be fine- we can try again. Right?”

You nod then, your smile brighter this time. “Once she knows all that, we can try again.”

Martin's eyes flick to your mouth and you know you've both had the same thought. You want to kiss him, to climb into his lap and melt like chocolate on his tongue. You want to pull at his stupid chicken hair until he moans into your mouth, his sounds of delight so sickeningly sweet that your stomach will ache for days afterwards.

But you can't kiss him. So you don't. At least you have that much control. Instead you let Martin trace your parted lips with a reverence that makes your skin tingle. He moves on to your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, your brow- as if he were a blind man putting a face to a woman who until now has been no more than a voice to him.

“I have so much to say,” Martin says finally, “and there's not enough time to say any of it.”

“One day soon, you'll have plenty of time to tell me anything you want.” You allow yourself the luxury of his embrace, your arms winding around his solid middle whilst his fit firmly around your shoulders.

If you're lucky, this could be your reality. You could come home to Martin, or rather he could come home to you, and have his busy days be endcapped by love and devotion. You've always said you would never consider being a housewife, that you respect yourself far too much to allow yourself to be reduced to a servant to your significant other. But for Martin? You want him to eat a home cooked meal every night. You want to massage his shoulders when he makes an off-hand comment about being sore from training too hard. You want to put Atla to bed and then draw a warm bath for you and Martin to share.

You want to give Martin the world because he deserves it. You would wait on him hand and foot because you know with absolute certainty that he would do the exact same thing whenever he was afforded the chance. And that sort of fairytale is exactly what you've always wanted in life. You aren't about to let it slip through your fingers.

#martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin odegaard fanfiction #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard fantasy #martin odegaard fic #arsenal fc #jac writes #alt timeline lover

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oh-saints · 1 year

Text

sunshine becomes you (final)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim, and that includes obliterating the blurred lines between him and Eve.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.7k

tw: 18+ for graphic sexual contents included inside (aka a sprinkle of smut); unprotected sex

Note: i know i've made you guys as frustrated as Martin in the gif above so i'm putting you out of misery (#spoiler) and i hope you guys forgive me lolol but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. oh, and i'm changing the term solstrålen into solskinn (including in the prev parts) bcs it turned out google search failed me, thanks @multifamdomfan12 for correcting me! <3

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc @laurensficrecs @soccerwag9 <3<3

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

“I expect to see you again soon, dear Eve,” was the last words Martin’s mother muttered before she and the rest of the family boarded the car Martin had chartered to get them to the nearest tarmac.

With the glint on her eyes, Martin knew her mother meant what she said and he, frankly enough, didn’t think he’d be ready to face the day he had to break the news to her mother that Eve and him were no longer happening. Her mother seemed so delighted with Eve, utterly wishing deep down that Eve was already a part of their family by some sort of extension called marriage.

Doors were closed behind Eve, and suddenly Martin’s house was too humongous for the two of them. Instead of appreciating the big space, Eve hated the way the hollow silence that followed after. It was suffocating, to say the least, and Eve wanted to run away as soon as possible.

Martin noticed the uncomfortable shift Eve played between her right and left legs, indicating she was in an awkward situation, and Martin already hated the fact he needed to have a legit justification to have her in his arms without any fight.

To have her in his arms like they still had someone else to impress, but without having to put up the act.

But who was he to wish upon the stars when the object of all his desires repelled him the way mosquitoes repelled the hazardous substance men made to annihilate them?

Who was he to wish something too futile to happen?

“Let me get the car keys—”

“No need, Martin,” Eve wrapped her arms around herself as she looked around the living room in search for her totebag. “I can go home by myself.”

“Out of the question, Angel—”

“You should drop the pet name now,” Eve’s stern tone stopped Martin on his track. To say he was surprised was an understatement, and he wished he’d never seen the exasperated look in her eyes, for it was laced variously with emotions he’d rather not name. “No one’s around. No need to put up an act.”

“But…” At Eve’s outburst, Martin didn’t realise his arms fell helplessly on his sides. “That’s your name.”

“You know as well as I do that’s not what I’m talking about.”

For several, intense moments, neither of them did anything but to hold each other’s stare.

“Fine, Eve. Have it your way,” Martin finally conceded to the pressure because if there was one thing he couldn’t do well was holding grudges. Put Eve as the subject and Martin would be fucked twice over. “But you should let me explain something in return.”

An eye for an eye, Eve realised was what Martin’s modus operandi, so she nodded. Anything to get this agony done and over with, anything to free her of him. Her body and soul couldn’t take anymore of Martin she somehow fell in love with in the midst of this whole charade, knowing that version of Martin never existed in the first place.

“What is it?” She said as she looked up slowly to meet the oceanic blue eyes she had grown accustomed to, but she never expected those magical orbs to be right in front of her in a flash of a moment like a lightning struck.

Before she could register on anything, Eve felt the plush cushion of his lips closing down on hers, sealing her voice box from the world with a surge of desperation lingering in the upper and lower parts of his lips, and she was scared of what he asked of her behind the kiss.

She was afraid of what he asked of her, as he goaded her parted lips for a further access to the mouth he’d always loved for saying all the right and wrong things that made Eve as she was now. The smart, the funny, the witty Eve.

She was terrified of what he asked of her, as she lost herself in the mortifying pleasure of having him traced the inside of her cavern with his tongue while tracing the curves outside with his hands, and before she knew it herself, he’d pinned her into the nearest wall, his hands holding hers up in a lock on top of her head.

She was frightened that, despite her fastened hands, she felt liberated this time around—and maybe Martin had liberated them both with the kiss—because everything felt so right in this moment.

Because while she was now familiar with his lips on hers now, Martin had never poured his body and soul and everything of his existence into a kiss. This was new, and this was raw, and Eve was so overwhelmed by the sensation because only now did she realise this was Martin—all of him, bared to her, desperate to cling on whatever’s left of her that he’d come to love.

This was real.

“Ask me something I never do.”

Eve gasped as she felt the pad of Martin’s thumb wiped away a streak of tear running down her face. She really should tell Martin it was out of happiness now. “Martin—”

“Ask, Angel.”

Another trail of waterworks escaped Eve as Martin’s eyes stared down at her intently, yet somehow so… forlorn. She never wished any of this to happen to either of them, least Martin of all people—the one who’d brought back her dignity the night of Christmas Gala. “What’s something you never do, Martin?”

“I never pretend when I’m around you,” Martin whispered the words against the pair of lips he’d come to love so much, for both the taste and the sensation that came with it, and Eve could feel the desperation lingered in the small space of air between them; of not being able to kiss her, not before she understood his points of elaboration, not before she had all her questions answered. “I’ve always kissed you the way I want to, having audience or not. I don’t care if anyone else sees us or it’s only between us just like right now.”

“But you’re pretending to be my boyfriend at the—”

“You think I was pretending but I never say anything about me pretending from the beginning, Angel,” His eyes reflected immense anguish, yet his words resonated with truth and determination, and Eve’s head was spinning beyond belief. “So I never have. Everything I do whenever I’m with you is within my purest intention and everything I say to you is my outmost honesty.”

It took Eve a full 5 seconds to digest everything, thanks to Martin’s intoxicating scent that was able to short-circuit her brain. “So the gala wasn’t a sham.”

“It never was for me, at least.”

“But it’s your idea to do that.”

“It’s my one and only crazy idea so I can get closer to you,” Martin rested his forehead on hers gently, in hope she could see what he was trying to convey; that he was tired of this charade as much as she was, especially when they were fooling themselves by denying everything that could’ve been between them. “It’s the only way I know how.”

“You used my desperation to—”

“Yes, but I don’t regret a thing,” Now Martin was truly wearing his heart on his sleeve. Eve never said about not giving a fight to him, and he’d expected that. “I don’t regret anything I do with you, and I’m sure I never will. Call me selfish but I was desperate, too, at that time so you can see me.”

Still, it hurt Martin the same every time Eve’s head moved back inches more than the distance he’d managed to claimed before. “But if you never pretend around me, you must’ve absolutely despised to see me every day.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You never reply whenever I say good morning.”

“So ask, Angel,” Martin’s hands headed south and back to cradle her face like she was a fine china—and for him, it felt that way, for how precious she was to him—and his thumb caressed out the crumpled lines between her eyebrows ever so softly. “Ask me why I never reply your good morning.”

“What?”

“Ask me why I never reply your good morning, Angel,” The Norway’s youngest captain repeated, and Eve was relieved when he reached up to her forehead to place a featherlight kiss on the same spot where her crease of confusion appeared, for she couldn’t stand another second of Martin looking down on her as if his world would end the moment she said anything that implied no to him. “No matter how much I want to give in.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to have to end with her asking the one thing she’d been dying to know but the way Martin’s lips tickled her skin and the way he inhaled the scent lingering from the shampoo she donned earlier… she’d choose this over breaking the fragile bubble they were in. “Did you hate them?”

“I abhorred them, Angel,” And there he was—Martin was back gazing down at her, and gone was the gentle but miserable captain that was hanging his sanity on a thread. He’d returned with force under his arsenal yet this time, Eve wasn’t intimidated like the last time she’d encountered this side of Martin. “I hate them because it reminds me that you treat me like everyone else,”

And Eve couldn’t hold back her stupefied gasp.

“I thought I made it obvious on my first day that I’m so… enamoured by you,” It was tragic to Eve that Martin was spewing every of these meaningful words about reality he’d been living with a smile that was anything but, and it took away her joy from the fact that this was real and she wasn’t hallucinating that she thought this was real. That she wasn’t the only one who wanted this to be real. “But you certainly think I’m just being friendly to you when in reality, it’s not it, and I hate it so much,”

And Eve vowed, as well as shooting upon the stars, that she didn’t have to see that bitter, artificial smile ever again.

She didn’t waste another breath to pull Martin down to her, capturing his lips in a deep kiss—so deep she had to close her eyes in contentment, and a sigh escaped her lips. The huffed air was Martin’s sign to ask for entrance, and she granted him the entire access to her body and soul the way he’d bared his earlier, and the clash of tongue was a rather welcomed reaction, along with the messy movements of their hands finding each other’s available exposed skin.

“Please tell me I didn’t mess up my chances with you yet,” While one hand was resting on the nape of Eve’s neck, the other one was tucking away the strands of her hair to the back of her ear. His eyes were roaming from the hair, to her eyes, to her lips, and Martin had to close the gap between them once more because he couldn’t help himself. “I’m so afraid I’ll fuck up and I lose you again before I know it.”

“Just don’t put me through such thing again.”

Eve didn’t have to open her eyes to know Martin was hiding his smile behind the smouldering look he granted her—a slight movement of his lips against the rim of hers was all it took for her—before he closed the gap between them with nips on the corners of her lips, the cupid bow, her nose, and finally landed perfectly back on the middle of her lips, claiming the gate of his existence once more like he never left her bereft.

And to be graced by the silent proclaim was Eve’s honour, for she had never felt an abundance of emotion from deep within of one’s self unlike any other from Martin. Should anyone catch them in their current position, it would be palpable for anyone to see that Eve was close to liquefying herself into a shape only Martin could mould of her, in only ways Martin could forge. Her lips were beyond repairable from the nibbles left on the trail every time the blonde man changed his course to devour her to the very last taste, her garments were beyond salvaging from the harsh movements that reminded her of the captain’s passion on the pitch and yet she welcomed the crude touches full of desperation on her skin.

She was exposed for anyone nearby to see, being the most daring she’d ever been in presence of someone else and her mirror at home, yet she felt so secluded and secured in Martin’s arms, for his body engulfed hers in ways she knew he wouldn’t compromise her dignity—to anyone, even to him.

Her head was busy configuring as to how Martin could orchestrate everything she was feeling like it was second skin to him but she should’ve known better. The moment she lost herself into his touches and was only brought to Earth when his hands grazed her bosom and only teasingly passed by the core of her heat, just to settle one of her leg on his waist, that Martin Ødegaard was truly living up his moniker of the maestro.

No one could’ve played her frustrations down to being close to a string left like he could, no one would’ve played the sanity she was hanging by a thread the way Martin did, and managed to get away with it unscathed of wrath. Yet, Eve was nothing but a puddle of mess under his subtle dominant.

“Martin, please…”

Her moans, masked by broken gasps, were enough for Martin to take her away from the poor plastered wall. Not because he didn’t want to take her against the wall—partly because he wanted only the best for her, partly because there was another time for that—but because he knew if they’d become undone right here, right there, he wouldn’t have the energy to hold them together. He knew they’d be sensational together, conjoined in the hips and lower in an earth-shatteringly manner, and he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like, despite being an athlete.

And he knew, as he lied her against the white faux material of the rug he’d immaculately placed in front of the fire place in this wintry weather, with the faint yellow glow casted on her face and her refined, soft silks of hair strands behind her, that his decision was proven better than he thought it would be.

Eve had never looked so ethereal, and he couldn’t believe this goddess-like being was now captured under him, helpless against the arms locking her sides—his angel, his fallen angel.

“Hello there, my angel,” Martin peered down at her, nuzzling his nose against hers, and Martin Ødegaard was unequivocally enraptured by the bedazzling smile she granted him at the gentle gesture, and he hadn’t even begun the ministration of what he had in mind. “You fit perfectly in my arms,”

And he was truly a goner by the way she was giggling—how much he’d been missing that gleeful sound without the constraint of a mere fake couple play between them—as he settled his nose deeper to the crook of her neck, sniffing Eve’s signature parfum she liked to spray along the length of her neck, while his fingers ran down the outer sides of her arms. The ticklish feeling was what probably enticed the melodious sound of her carefree laugh, her true carefree laugh, not the one he was used to hearing paraded around the London Colney for mere courtesy.

But Martin was something else altogether when Eve let out unrestricted whines as his nose and lips pursued the track downwards, from the neck to the open space of her chest, against the space between her ample breast, on the small space under the mound, across her ribcage. So uncalled for, especially for the effects those sinful sounds imposed on his cock. So dirty, so disgusting, yet he yearned for more.

Thus, explaining his bold move further down south.

Just as he was peppering kisses against the inner parts of her thighs, Eve arched in the ways that could put half-moon to shame, with her agape mouth and breathless pants as her hands were practically flailing to find the most stable ground to help herself, only to end up with plucking the faux material with one hand and another one gripping his shirt for life.

She sat up at the sudden realisation Martin was yet discarded from his clothes, and he stopped his deliverance at her movement. “What’s wrong?”

Eve didn’t say anything verbally but her hands lifting up the colour that complimented his skin very well said it all. Martin halted her rushing hands effectively, like he did hers when they were pushed up against the wall a bazillion years ago. “Oh no, my love. Tonight’s about you.”

Eve couldn’t hide the shivers that ran down all over the body at both the newfound nickname—and she loved being called by nicknames Martin found suitable for her—and the intonation he used to cover his obvious intention.

Martin sat back up on his knees, and the sight of him shedding his shirt was certainly something that would haunt her for days and days after today, especially when he had to be away for his job. Realising Eve was ogling at him, Martin laughed unreservedly for the first time since the both of them scrapped off the last bits of their shitty acting withstanding.

“Oh, shut up, Martin,” and the man could certainly get used to being pulled down by the woman who’d never vanished from the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to erase her. She kissed the way she looked; sun-blazingly hot with passion and fierceness like she wouldn’t see the light of the day tomorrow, and he could feel the last restrain of himself melted away as her hands travelled down his chest, his ribs, his well-built abdomen.

“I like this,” Eve traced down the sixpack line stretched across his midriff, her movement so gentle yet it constricted the muscle tighter than the workout machines at the gym. “Don’t show it off to anyone else.”

“Say you’re mine and it’s all yours to see, Angel,” Eve looked up to the man towering her, covering her against the moon wanting to peek at the moment they’d been dying to have, and Martin almost came undone at how innocent she looked, face held in his hands, in contrast to how devious her fingers were at. “It’s always been you.”

Eve didn’t need further reassurance to pull him down to her, crashing their lips together in ways that reminded her of waves crashing against the solid rock on the edge of the ocean. His lips were showering her with cold water against the warmth of hers, and hers were pouring him calmness against the sun. Yin and yang found each other, at last, and they both moaned at the sensation the both of them had been liberated at best from whatever holding them down.

They were floating on the rough waters, so high in each other’s frustrated and desperate kisses to find solace in each other’s undone, but nothing could compare to the moment the lovers were fully, entirely intertwined with each other. Eve felt so full of Martin, and she wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

Martin had to control his breath, just as what his trainers told him to do on the pitch ironically enough, as he felt Eve welcoming him with the warmest hug he could ever receive from someone, both inside and out. He couldn’t help himself but pull her closer to him, flushed against him, every air making their way in between them was something he considered a disturbance.

“Oh, Martin,” Her breathing was ragged, so did Martin’s, and it pushed Martin to drive her closer to the edge. “You feel so good against me.”

At her words, he went the deepest he could plunge himself into the sweetest hellhole that was Eve, and her body went tighter, inside and out he could see veins almost bulging out against her temple. She was halfway there; he could see it in her gaze, in what he could make out of her extremely flushed cheeks. Who was he to grant delayed gratification to her?

“Say you’re mine, mitt solskinn,” One touch against the swollen, pretty clit of hers, and she slowly peaking her highs. She was so beautiful, chasing her release under his touch as he pounded himself into her relentlessly for his own end, despite the dirty, slick mess she was making against his hands. She panted his name like a prayer, and it delighted him to no end that he was the only one who could provoke such a sensuous siren. “No more denying between us, Angel.”

“I’m yours, Martin Ødegaard,” and he felt that down to the bones as he’d reached his high at her words, like the passcode to his own ending, and as the morning came lazily upon them, he’d never felt as whole as that moment. Although he’d had Eve in his arms countless times before, because he now knew that despite the stormy weather outside, he’d always have his sunshine shining brightly in his arms, beaming radiantly as she whispered, good morning, baby.

Martin didn’t have anything else to respond her but to give her the same blinding smile—the biggest he could muster, anyway, which was still pale in comparison to the force in his arms, settling well like a little spoon she was.

“You really lost against me.”

The once-wonderkid could only laugh at her comment. You could count on Eve for her smart mouth. “Well, if this is what losing feels like, I really don’t mind at all.”

“That’s it?” Eve had to pull her head back from the tight cocoon they were sharing, and she absolutely wouldn’t complain to wake up to those clear blue Nordic eyes every day. “Where does your whole athlete competitiveness go?”

“You feel like my biggest victory anyway.”

Because sunshine has become Eve.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊THE END＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

and that concludes my first ever (mini) series! wow, i didn't think this was possible in any way so thank you, to each and every single one of you, who's spared your time to read the entire series and even left comments on the posts. i hope i didn't disappoint you midway or in anyway. bcs really, if i could hug you guys rn, i would so i'm just gonna send loves to you guys ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and see you on the next one!

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football-and-fanfics · 1 year

Text

Gym - Martin Odegaard

🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽ Who: Martin Odegaard. Request: So hear me out: you see <player> pushing weights in the gym in your house and hes grunting with the strain of it which turns you on and you hump-a-doodle him on the weightlifting bench thingy. About the "hump a doodle" smut one 😭 can we get it for Martin Odegaard please? I'm done seeing him softie softie in all fan fics hehe. Requested by: anonymous Warnings: smut. 🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽🖊️⚽

With the heavy snowfall outside, Arsenal had canceled all of today's team activities out of safety concerns. So, too, the trainings. Since Martin didn't like going a day without any kind of training, he had decided to do some exercises in the gym room in your house.

As you walked past, clean laundry in your arms, you heard his strained grunts as he put his body to work. You carefully peeked around the door, which stood slightly ajar, to find him on his back on the weight lifting bench and straining against pushing the bar up above his chest.

A pleasant twinge settled in your core as you watched him. His grunts, his sweaty face, the way his damp shirt clung to his chest... You realized within seconds how much it turned you on. For a few more moments you tried to resist the idea which popped into your mind, but quickly seized your 'struggles' against it.

You threw the clean laundry to the floor, and strode over to where Martin still pushed weights. "Those are some suggestive sounds you're making." You smirked down at him.

Martin made sure to secure the bar of the weights back into its holders, before giving you a questioning look. "I'm what?" You stepped yet closer, swinging your leg over his body and sitting down in his lap. "You're making very suggestive sounds." You teasingly ran a finger over his sweaty chest. Now Martin immediately clicked on. "Then why don't you do something about it, huh?"

You didn't need to be told twice. Your hands already disappeared into his shorts, stroking his cock. You felt him grow hard under your touch. As you stroked, gently squeezed and teased, you watched Martin's face as he lay underneath you. The arousal was quickly awoken in him, and he soon grunted and groaned in pleasure.

Suddenly, Martin maneuvered himself out from under the weights bar. He sat up to give you an eager, fiery kiss, before hungrily flipping you over onto your back onto the bench. "My turn," he growled, aroused. You giggled excitedly. Whenever he got like this, you knew things were going to be good.

Both your clothes were off and left discarded on the floor in mere seconds. If you weren't wet and eager to have him already, then the sight of his naked body and fully erect cock would certainly do the trick.

You slung your arms around his neck and pulled him towards you to kiss him hungrily. 'Come on, Mr. Footballer," you gasped in between kisses, "I need you to fuck me good."

Martin moved himself out from under your arms, straightening himself up. He took up position between your legs, before gently pushing his hips forward and his cock into you. "Yes..." you moaned, closing your eyes to savor the feeling of his cock sliding all the way into you.

Martin started out slow, but he quickly worked himself up to a firm pace. The bench creaked underneath you with the force of his thrusts. You threw your head back against the leather of the bench, moaning up at the ceiling for dear life. Martin growled excitedly at the sight of you in full ecstasy beneath him, coming completely undone by his doing.

His hands reached down, cupping and massaging your freely swinging breasts. He kept pounding his cock into you relentlessly and you loved every microsecond of it. You only vaguely registered the Norwegian words of arousal he groaned under his breath, but you knew it meant he was close to cumming.

Suddenly, Martin's hands moved to your hips, grabbing them tightly. He thrusted hard a few more times, before he collapsed forward onto you with a loud moan.

You had lost count of how many times he had just made you cum. Your pussy burned pleasantly from the amazing pounding you just took, and you weren't sure if your legs would ever find the strength to stand again, but it had been so mind-blowingly good.

You felt Martin tremble with the aftermath of his orgasm, as you both lay breathing heavily. With his head resting on your chest, his hot breaths rolled over your breasts. You ran your hand over the sweaty skin of his back. "This is a good way to workout, too," you chuckled. Martin grinned, satisfied. "This is so much better than a workout."

Tags: @sanskari-kanya, @mrswinksy, @themoon-shines Note: I'm not using the regular tags list as I'm not sure everyone on there is okay with being tagged in smut imagines. The only ones tagged are the ones who have indicated they would like to be tagged in smut as well 😉

Add me to the tags list General masterlist | Martin masterlist

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard smut #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard fanfiction #football imagine #football smut #football blurb #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer smut #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #footballandfanficsmartinodegaard

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