#Martin Ødegaard one shot

[kierantierney3]

Masterlist

Alejandro Garnacho

Birthday post

Supporting

Couple goals

FA cup

Kieran Tierney

First holiday

Supporting each other

Christmas

Key moments

Best friends to lovers

Long distance

Halloween

Pregnancy announcement

Wedding

Soft launch

Date nights

Scotland

Pedri

Jealous boy

Obsessed

End of an era

Gavi

End of an era

Ruben Dias

Teammates sister

Summer break

Simp

Break up?

Ben Chilwell

Rivals

Martin Ødegaard

Pregnancy announcement

Norway

Injury

Arsenal player

Secret girlfriend

Lovers part 2

Simp

Funny story

Singer

Childhood friends

Kai Havertz

Father’s day

Expecting

Joao Felix

Chelsea

Long distance

Mason Mount

Soft launch part 2

Birthday post

Step dad

Relationship milestones

Break up?

Chelsea to United

New man?

John Stones

Soft launch

Step dad

Jude Bellingham

Same place at the same time

Kitten

Arsenal

Matching outfits

Birthday

Father’s day

Break up- part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

[oh-saints]

hi ! would you be down to do a fluffy and funny social media au or an oneshot for a ødegaard!reader dating charles leclerc in secret because they're scared of martin's reaction, but martin tries to set one of his teammates up with reader and charles gets jealous and accidentally reveals their relationship ?

matchmaker

charles leclerc x odegaard&model!reader (ft. martin odegaard the big bro)

word count: 1k

notes: as a pain relief from my angsty works...? teheee but i can totally imagine protectivebro!martin towards his sister irl tbh and i hope you like this bcs this is my 1st time doing something related to socmed au! but as usual, i wrote this at dawn so this is yet to be beta-read.

ig pics taken from aimeesong's instagram; others taken from pinterest and tumblr.

yn.odegaard ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 57,980 others

yn.odegaard only the best for your partner. @/tiffanyandco #tiffanypartner #ad

view all comments

odegaard.98 please get a real boyfriend

yourbff lucky bastard he is 👀

→ yn.odegaard girl don't spill anything here...

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“ah, the honorary son of our family is here!”

martin didn’t waste his chance as soon as emilie opened the door, only to reveal a particular monegasque racing driver standing before his youngest sister.

charles, being sweet as ever, hugged the giggling girl—it’d become odegaard family’s joke that emilie had been secretly harbouring a crush on the handsome lad—before giving her a small box of signature chocolate from whatever country charles had just arrived from due to the nature of his job. the playful jab martin threw at charles was ringing truer than ever before as the mother of the household walked out of the kitchen, leaving whatever dish she was making to engulf him in a bear hug, whispering silent grace to god that charles had survived another deadly week of racing without a scathe.

which she’d never done to any of her other children, by the way. not even when martin was bleeding from the scraps he’d gotten due to the gruesome nature of football, week in and out. in her defence, martin hadn’t been anywhere near death—not even life-threatening injury—whereas charles grazed the door of hell every time he was working, should his reflex fail him for a mere second difference on that asphalt.

you might be wondering how charles, a monegasque royalty at this point, was subtly adopted by the odegaards, a norwegian footballer family. it was a wonder that never ceased, too, to be honest.

except for you, who’d been the one who opened the gate to this crazy crossover.

you’d shot to stardom because of your social media activities, back when martin was still a madrid player. long story short, your follower count was what sealed your ticket to the catalunya grand prix as a guest for a famous spanish fashion brand, which resulted you being ushered to the ferrari paddock for the brand’s main ambassador, carlos sainz, who introduced you to his teammate, namely charles leclerc.

did it answer your question as to why charles could be found ever so often around the odegaard’s residence? probably not, and the odegaards felt the same way, too, in all honesty. one day, you brought him home for dinner and the boys had been so excited to have another boy at their close proximity to play football with that they even skipped the whole interrogation thing.

thus, them thinking charles was your best friend.

when in fact, he had been anything but.

it was actually within your purest intention to introduce charles as your boyfriend that night. partly because for the first time, you’d managed to snatch a fine specimen of a gentleman as your boyfriend instead of adding another male to your pile of boy/friend. but mostly because you and charles had every intention to be serious about your relationship—like marriage serious.

you had actually prepared both charles and yourself for a long investigating query from your brothers—in their name of being protective and all, and despite your exterior of despising them for that, you couldn’t help but love them all the same. but it seemed like those two older siblings of yours just thought charles was another boy/friend you met due to the nature of your job, or probably due to your extrovert trait.

did you ever bother to correct them?

lots of times, you wanted to break the label kristoff and martin was giving charles. but it was your boyfriend who held you back, grasping your hand in his in a gentle pressure under the table. when asked afterwards, he’d always answer with, “in due time, we will. for now, I’m focused on gaining their favours.”

so you stayed put. after all, you had been a firm believer that only a man knows other men best.

but it seemed like it’d change after tonight.

“you really should look for a boyfriend,” martin slipped in the thoughts he’d already put on her instagram’s comment section in the midst of the table going around her newest campaign. “you’re glowing when you have a partner.”

you couldn’t help but scoff. “what do you know from a picture?”

“we’re saying that you look so good in your last campaign, probably because you found a perfect partner for the shoot. now imagine if you have a real boyfriend…” kristoff added and you rolled your eyes at your oldest brother. the guy in the picture was actually the one sitting beside you, your boyfriend of almost a year now, so of course you glowed like you’re in a relationship.

“do you need my help to set you up with someone?”

kristoff’s eyes widened at martin’s so-called brilliant idea. “you’re a genius! or maybe charles can—”

“nope, no one’s good enough for her.”

charles’ statement left the entire table speechless, including yourself. you’d never heard charles spoken up so fast, with a tone so angry and facial expression so full of distaste, despite his blue eyes focused on the dish he was playing with.

“well, there’s kieran who just broke up—”

“can’t you just let your sister choose her own partner?” charles looked up and chose to shoot lasers to the head of the table, even it scared you a bit.

this side of charles was new, for he would always be seen exasperated when it involved things around racing, but it was probably because the topic was new. your idiotic brothers had never—ever—had a problem with your romantic life. tonight was the first time the duo ever sold the idea of matchmaking you since puberty waves hit the family.

charles let out a sigh so deep, you knew he regretted his outburst. “she’s all grown up, for god’s sake.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

charles_leclerc ✔️

liked by odegaard.98, yourmomig, emelie.odegaard, and 952,767 others

charles_leclerc Sorry not sorry I snatched her first

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yn.odegaard wrong account?

→ pierregasly wrong account

→ landonorris wrong account

→ carlossainz55 wrong account

→ georgerussell63 wrong account

→ charles_leclerc maybe not?

odegaard.98 charles, just an fyi: this is not how you impress your future bro-in-law

kristodegaard you guys really shouldn't have hid anything from us, not cool @yn.odegaard @charles_leclerc

emilie.odegaard i love you for letting my brothers think the otherwise all this time

yourmomig i smell this from the first time i met you. welcome to the family, son!

→ yn.odegaard YOU DIDN'T????

→ odegaard.98 are we the only one left in the dark? @kristodegaard

[pensat-i-fet]

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 💕"

[yourstrqly]

down your throat, ødegaard

pairing: martin ødegaard x fem!reader

warnings: smut — blowjob, also fluff because its martin ødegaard !

rina's masterlist

Tiredly, you opened your eyes slowly, taking in the sight in front of you. There he laid, naked like God made him, his eyes focused solely on where his hand ran your left hip up and down gently. You closed your eyes once again, enjoying his touch which was far from the way he manhandled you just six hours before.

"Don't let yourself fall asleep again, min kjæreste", he whispered whilst nibbling playfully on your ear. The norwegian pet name pulled your heart strings and made you smile a little but you really had one thing on your mind and that was sleep.

Kissing your cheek as his hand roamed up your body to your throat where it stopped, squeezing it softly to get a reaction out of you.

"Come on y/n. Let's take a shower before work."

You got the point; everything pretty much smelled like sex and sweat, and it was better to take one than spray on some strong perfume right before going to work eight hours. However a voice in your head cried for an hour more sleep and the desire to do it was overwhelming.

Martin's hand wanderd to your temple, massaging it which in return made you purr like a cat. He knew how to get a reaction out of your body — you had been casual hooking up since January and it was already March. You had been single for a few months, looking for some fun and well.. he catched your eyes with his stern face as he had watched over his teammates on a night out. Normally your type was brunette, full lips and a bulky build because you craved a man who could be rough in the bedroom and be a protector but Martin didn't need to be the biggest in the room; he seemingly owned it. He was hot in a way you couldn't explain and he had more sides on him than the first glance let on. You did fall in love with him over time — you didn't only fuck for fun, no, you met up to grab some food or walk around for hours, talked every other day over phone and once in a while he asked you to be his date for an important award show.

It felt like you were already in a committed relationship.

"With you?", you sheepishly asked him, already knowing the answer. Martin grinned at you and kissed your lips to get a sweet moan from you.

"Only if you want me to."

"You bet I want you", you mumbled between wet kisses, grabbing a fistful of his golden hair. Letting him go, you rolled on your back, waiting patiently for his next step.

"Want me to carry you?"

"Please, you've fucked me good, I can't imagine walking at all." He rolled his eyes in mock irritation but nevertheless pulled you in his arms, securing you with his hands on your ass whilst you clasped your legs around his midsection, hands on his back, feeling his strong muscles work under your touch. Martin looked like one of those Greek gods without even trying.

Walking in the bathroom with you in his arms didnt seem to mind him a bit; he pinched you in the side to let you know that you arrived and dropped you to your feet. He wasn't even a head taller than you, however his aura spoke a different language, taking the full room. You starred each other down, enjoying the tension you built up. The man turned around, giving you a good view of his body as he stepped in the shower.

"Pretty girl, don't you want to lose that shirt of mine and join me?", questioned Martin who started to relax his muscles under the warm water.

Still you stood there, bitting your lips at the view which he quickly noticed and took the upper hand. He firmly gripped his hard dick, strocking up and down as he let out low moans. His head leaned against the cold tiles of his spacious shower, ignoring your presence which you didn't like. Hastily you ripped your shirt off ( one of his arsenal shirts but sharing is caring! ), opening the shower and stepping inside.

You sank to your knees, kissing the flesh of his hip bone, whilst one of your hands touched his abdomen, feeling his muscles clench under your fingertips. Despite your butterfly kisses all over his hips he didn't spare a glance at you, annoying the shit out of you so you stopped his hand from stroking and gently sucking on his tip.

Martin let out a loud groan. "Knew you wanted to put your lips on my cook, min tøs."

Motivated by his degrading wording, you began to move your mouth up, taking his dick halfway before going back to the tip, kissing and sucking it hard, elicting one of his pornographic moans. Gradually, you took it further, taking more of the length as you looked up at him and meeting his gaze. His eyes were clouded with Lust, hair wet from the water which made its way down his body.

Wanting to hear him getting louder, you opened your mouth wider to take it all in. His tip reached the back of your throat, causing you to moan on his dick. The vibration sent him extra pleasure and he couldn't stop himself to fuck himself into your mouth.

He wimmernd, chanting your name.

"Fuck y/n, I'm going to cum."

You hallowed your cheeks, pleasing him even more before he spilled down your throat, tights shaking under your fingers. You still bobbed your head along his cook, milking him off his last drop. Then you let his length out with a satisfying pop, kissing your way up to his lips, making him taste himself. Martin broke up the kiss first, his eyes holding an emotion you couldn't explain.

"I'm not letting you go, you know?", he said, pressing a chaste kiss against your forehead once he turned the water off and started to towel down your body.

Jokingly you replied, not realizing what he actuallymeant. "I have to work, sunny. Can't drop everything for you."

Turning your head to meet his eyes, he gave you a waning look. You searched for the answer in his eyes, wondering what he was trying to tell you.

"It's me and you, okay? I don't want to label this", he pointed between you both, "as a casual hookup."

Your breath caught in your throat and fear spread through you. He wouldn't dump you after you sucked his dick, right?

"What do you want then if not hooking up?"

"I want you to dress up for tonight so I can take you out on a real date, yeah? I want more than just your body and I want to be able to tell everyone that we're dating." Your heart fluttered at his words and you nodded in agreement. "Fantastic. I'd fuck you but time isn't in our favour", Martin smirked, hitting your ass.

[nicolesainz]

Secret love song (MØ 8)

Martin Ødegaard x f!reader

Warnings: fluff to its core

A/N: It will be the first time I write a one shot from the male perspective and first time I write about Martin, so hope I don’t disappoint

Summary: First times are difficult. Even if that means saying three powerful words

“Come on Martin. What’s wrong with you? Just say it!” I say to myself, shaking my head, wanting to get my shit straight.

“What’s wrong man? Everything alright. You seem stressed” Ben White’s voice echoes in my ears, as I feel his arm on my shoulder.

“So it’s that apparent, huh?”

“You always are stressed but this time it looks like you’ve reached its peak. If I can help anyhow, tell me Martin”

My palms are sweaty and my throat is drying as minutes go by. This feels like torture and as I keep to myself those three little words, the more they haunt me in my sleep.

Tonight, Y/N, finally had time to attend a home game with Manchester City, as we battle for the first place in the league. The excitement I had when she broke the news, blasted all over the room.

Seeing her in the grandstands, wearing an Arsenal shirt, with my name plastered on its back, with her mesmerizing being brighter than every light in the stadium, gives me strength.

“Y/N is here today. And I think it’s finally time, Ben”

Not a lot boys from the team knew about Y/N. Only Ben, Bukayo, Aaron and Kieran. Besides Kieran, the other three had interacted with her many times whenever the England squad gathered.

And the reason I say England squad, is because she is Aaron’s sister. He was the one who introduced us at first place and from the very first night, she absolutely took my breath away.

“So that’s why you’ve been sweating as if you’ve been walking on hot sand at the Sahara.” Ben let out a small laugh, but seeing how worried I was he instantly stopped.

“Dra til helvete, rasshøl” (Fuck off, asshole) I say as I give him a slight kick.

“At this point, I know when you talk shit about me, Ødegaard. So, instead of insulting my grace, go talk to her!” He jokes around, trying to lighten the atmosphere, but clearly doesn’t.

“It’s not that easy. She’ll hate and avoid me if something goes sideways. How will I ever face her again if she shows up at more games?” I go back and forth, trying to reason myself in order to calm down.

“Hey hey hey! Look at me!” Ben held me still and shook me so I looked him in the eyes.

“From the way she talks about you, I believe that everything will be alright” Wait…what way? And how does Ben know? Does she talk about me to her brother or someone else?

“What do you mean? Spill or I’ll kick your leg even harder” I wouldn’t actually do it. It was my nerves talking. I was even more flushed and anxious right now.

“Whenever the squad meets, she always asks where you are, as if she doesn’t know that it’s only the England boys. We all tease her and then Aaron calls you out of nowhere”

That explains everything now. I’ve been receiving calls from the boys over a few Saturdays after the games, with all of them laughing and a woman’s voice in the back. It was her!

Flashback, to Valentines Day, a few months ago…

I was home alone after practice, with no one, but Netflix playing a stupid movie Erling had suggested me.

I just needed it to get my mind off. I was a coward once again. Today I had a great chance at telling Y/N how I feel and I blew it. I chickened out and left the very moment with a lame ass excuse.

“I’m so sorry. I need to rush home. My dad fell off the stairs”

My dad was in Norway, miles away from here. And was probably fishing. But she didn’t know that.

When I was almost falling asleep, my phone rings and wakes me up abruptly.

It was Aaron.

“Everything okay mate?” I say, looking at the time. It was 11 pm.

“Surely my guy. What about you? Happen to have any beautiful girl over there?” Aaron voice was dubbed by the yelling and laughing of the other England players. They were definitely all drunk.

“If he doesn’t, let’s give her to him. I’m sure they’ll get busy with one another.” Ben Chilwell screamed from the background and a woman’s voice followed.

“Find a girl first and then talk about me, Chilwell” she replied snarkily, although I couldn't understand who she was in between the loud music and shouting.

"Do you want me to pick up any of you guys? Seems like you've had a fair share of drinks, huh?" I say letting a soft sigh escape my mouth.

"Nahhh, we are just fine. Although someone definitely would want to be picked up. Hey-" and Aaron's sentence was cut in the middle as he hung up.

I shook my head disappointingly and went to bed that day, with the biggest heartache and three words ghosting over my head.

I love you

End of flashback

"Let's go out there and win this. If you score a goal, dedicate a celebration to her. I am sure she will appreciate this afterwards" Ben hit me a few times on the back and pushed me forward, as the Captain of the team had to go out first.

My nerves were all over the place and very clear to everyone else too. Okay Martin. Dype åndedrag (deep breaths), like Ben said, alt kommer til å ordne seg (everything will be alright).

The fans went wild as the game started very strong with the side of City, immediately going full on attack with all their defenders marking us.

They had a few chances of scoring but thankfully Aaron deflected all of them perfectly. So far, things were going okay, but the score still was nil-nil, with the ball possession being in favour of City.

It was now a few minutes before the end of the first half and the ball was around Erling's feet. When he is about to reach the net, I kick the ball in the air and Haaland ended up falling messily on my leg.

I let out a massive yelp, holding my leg with my hands, somehow wanting to ease the pain. The referee doesn't blow the whistle, which means the game still goes on with me and Erling helping each other get up.

"Beklager, men dette kunne ikke ha skjedd på noen annen måte" (Sorry, but this couldn't have happened any other way), he says to me, reaching for my hand and picking me up.

"Been through worse. It's okay", I say back and run as fast as I can towards my teammates, who were trying to steal the ball from Walker's 'embrace'.

The first half whistle blows and it's still nil-nil. Fuck, we need to do better. I need to do better. I raise my head and my eyes immediately fall on Y/N, who has been caught staring at me, with her cheeks fully flushed and a worried look in her eyes.

To her disappointment, she can't come down to the changing rooms, so instead, in order to check on me, she points at her leg and gives me a thumbs up and down signal.

I smile shyly, with my heart fluttering, as I give her a thumbs up and a small wave, before heading back to the rooms. If only I could hug her right now and tell her that even if we lost, all I cared about was not loosing her.

"Martin, how is your leg? Can you continue or do you want me to sub? Your call." Arteta asks me looking one time in my eyes and the other down to my leg.

"I can do it, boss. No problem here" I reply to him, with a stern look taking over me.

"Please, don't gamble with your health. If you are not feeling okay, tell me." he says one more time, wanting to make sure I was fully agreeing with what I said.

"I can play. It was just at the spur of the moment. Doesn't hurt" I assure him as the ref comes up to call us back on the pitch.

He nods at me and the squad goes out for a final time this evening. We need to score. We can't give up. I shouldn't give up. I need to fight.

The only thing helping me carry on was the sweetheart going by the name Y/N, watching us from the grandstands and having every bit of her faith lying on us. Lying on me.

And the game is back on. We do better than the first half, with the possession of the ball being at our advantage. Everything is going from better to best as Martineli assist Bukayo and he scores the first goal of the night!

We all go around and hug him, as happiness can't be contained. The fans roar and wave their flags in honour of this amazing goal and Saka.

Unfortunately, City equalised a few moments later around the 83 minute, with Grealish being the surprise scorer of the match, as he avoids the defence of Saliba, Ben and Kieran and sends the ball right on the net, with Aaron being unable to react.

My eyes land on the time board. 88 minute. Shit.

I wave at Jesus to pass me the ball as I was the only one unmarked by the City players and closer to the net. There was a fifty-fifty chance I would catch the ball and be able to score. This time, I gambled and proved myself right.

I manage to get the ball my way and with a hard headshot I send the ball in the net, making it a 2-1 at exactly the end of the game! The whole stadium got up and started yelling from the explosion of happy emotions and we had won a massive derby against our biggest rivals of the season.

"You, fucking Captain Ødegaard, did this! Thank you" Ben says with a huge smile on his face turning me around and pointing towards Y/N's way, who was jumping up and down filming the whole moment. I take my chance once more and shape with my fingers a heart at her.

She pays me back with another heart, as the filming stops, whilst pointing at my name on her back, signing the number one. This, was my sign to tell her how I feel. It was now or I would forever hold peace.

After the celebration with the team, we all dress with dry clothes and head outside the stadium now that it had emptied from the crowds. Every player, run to either their family or girlfriend.

Aaron looked at me and mouthed "go talk to her", as he was walking towards his fiancée.

For some reason, I didn't feel nervous or scared. I felt confident and sure about what I was about to do. It was surely risky but I had a gut feeling, this would work out perfectly.

She looked at me as if it was only the two of us, surrounded by no one else, with her embrace fully open for me to land in. How I wish this would become my permanent safe place.

I ran up to her and gave her the biggest possible hug, I have ever shared with someone. I could feel her heart beating in sync with mine and I instantly knew, why I did love her.

I love her because she can turn ones day from bad to extremely amazing. She can make you laugh, without trying too much. Only with her wit and charm. She can create a feeling of safety with a simple touch. But most importantly, she can make you fall in love with her, with a single smile.

She doesn't have time to react after the hug, as my lips fall on hers softly. My one hand cups her cheek whilst the other is tangled up with hers. She doesn't fight me back as the kiss gets deeper and more passionate, as it was a way of saying how we both felt this entire time.

She pulls my hand and places it on the side of her heart, so I could feel how fast it beat. How fast it was beating, only for me. My lips form into a smile as we break apart and look at each other with full adoration. If I could, she would be the only person I looked at for the rest of my life.

I didn't care about any trophy or championship. If my career ended now, I wouldn't care, if it meant having her by my side.

"I love you. More than you can possibly imagine. Day and night, this was all I wanted to say but the fear of losing you, held me back" I admit to her, trying to catch my breath.

"Jeg elsker deg, Martin. And honestly, I can't love anyone more than you. It feels impossible. But I am glad it is. I never want this to change" she lands into my arms once again, this time with a soft feeling caving into my heart.

[gunnerina]

Oh to be Martin Ødegaard, captain of a beautiful cohesive team, conducting a symphony of beautiful goals and celebrating with my beautiful boys

[yellowkitkieran]

Body Shots (Kieran, Martin + reader)

Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Your situationships with both Martin and Kieran boil over when both boys plot to show you how fun they can be.

Purely self indulgent, based on my favorite trope to ever exist. Beta read by my babe @cfchloe​​

At today's match at the Emirates, your only wish is for Kieran to be subbed on. 

You've entertained a 'will they, won't they' sort of relationship with Kieran for months now. The Scotsman is reluctant to actually make a move thanks to Arteta's strict rules regarding players being forbidden to date staff. 

However, that same rule hasn't stopped the other boy that's shown interest in you, none other than the captain, Martin Ødegaard. He's asked you out twice now but you've politely declined, letting him know you're not interested in anything serious in any sense of the word. Martin being Martin, once he had an explanation he accepted your word as law and backed off, maintaining a playful, flirty relationship with you that you both enjoy. 

In the tunnel whilst you were fixing Kieran's jacket before he headed out, you'd given him a task: if he was subbed on, you wanted him to score. If he couldn't do that then you wanted to see him get an assist, so you could still celebrate him. 

Luck shines down on you when he's on the pitch at the 65th minute, and you fear you'll nearly melt into your seat behind the bench when he glances over at you once he's in position. You're pretty sure you've become a puddle when Kieran flicks his tongue over his lips, hands on his hips while he waits for kick off, eyes locked on yours. 

Kieran gives a hundred and ten percent from the moment the whistle blows. He moves like a demon, twisting past defenders and moving like a wisp on the wind. Each time he has the ball at his feet you're up off your seat, thighs tense with anticipation as you wait for him to shoot. And after a few minutes he crosses it to his right, aiming for Saka and hitting his mark perfectly. 

Nine minutes after coming on, Kieran has completed your request. You aren't surprised; he's been confident lately and you knew he'd make an impact today. You scream yourself hoarse along with every single red-blooded gunner in the stadium, so loud that the ground shakes. 

You don't have the words to describe how proud you are. Even if you're not official, you love knowing that Kieran takes you seriously. 

Martin is the one Kieran looks towards, with a thousand watt smile that shines as brilliant as the sun. Martin's face reflects the same pride you feel in your chest as he heads for his best mate first, hugging him in congratulations and saying something that sparks Kieran's attention. You can just make out the words 'are you serious?' On Kieran's lips, and Martin responds with a nod. When Martin's eyes find you in the crowd, the look he gives you sends a delicious chill down your spine. 

What do those two have up their sleeves?

**********

Three hours later you've joined half the squad at Aaron's house for an after party. A four one win that sees them keep a steady lead at the top of the table is reason enough to have everyone wanting to celebrate, although personally you're more interested in celebrating Kieran. 

The two of you sit on the sofa, heads bent together to hear each other over the music. You spotted Martin when you came in twenty minutes ago but he hasn't come over to say hello yet, probably caught up in making his rounds. 

You finish the drink you'd stolen from Kieran upon your arrival and wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. "Ugh- if we go out to a pub, remind me to not get whatever you have. It's terrible! Doesn't that burn your stomach? Or am I just weak?"

Kieran's laugh sets off butterflies in your stomach and brings a flush to your cheeks. "Lassie, it's only whisky! It's nae that bad! I've had worse honestly- I like the taste!" His hand lands on your thigh and he shakes his head, amused by your inability to hold your liquor. On instinct you cover his hand with your own. You glance around the room to see if anyone notices the touch, worried about being caught and Kieran potentially falling back onto the bench or worse, left out of the squad entirely as punishment for being involved with a member of Arsenal staff.

"Don't look so tense elskling!" Martin leans over the sofa and plants a kiss to the crown of your head. "Everyone here is either far too wrapped up in someone of their own to notice us, or is someone that we can all trust to not go spilling the beans. No one is gonna rat us out, so let's just enjoy ourselves!"

"Us?" 

"Mmhm- that's what I said, love. Didn't you tell Kieran you wanted to celebrate him? That's what we're gonna do." Martin leans forward and fills your glass with a shot of vodka. 

"Um… yes? I guess so?" You have no idea where this is going but from the look the two boys share, you know you'll enjoy it. 

Kieran lightly pats your thigh and his eyes drift over your stomach, left exposed by the tied up Arsenal kit you're wearing. His tongue darts out over his lips and your thighs squeeze together involuntarily, which Kieran notices and grins. 

"Be a good lassie and finish that drink for me love, will you? Martin and I came up with something while we were waiting for you to finally show up." Martin nudges your shoulder as he leans forward, his face inches from yours. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek and it makes you shiver. You knock back the drink without a second thought, slamming the glass on the low table in front of you once you'd finished. 

"Good girl," Martin mumbles in your ear before kissing your cheek. The entire interaction leaves you speechless. What in the world is going on? You've contemplated dating Kieran or Martin for ages, and you know they both want you, but this feels like some sort of fever dream.

Martin comes around to sit on your other side, his arm slung over your shoulder. "You know elskling, Kieran and I were thinking… you won't date either of us right? Because you don't want us to get in trouble. Which we appreciate- butttttt Arteta's rule doesn't say anything about a more casual relationship."

"I-" you struggle to form a coherent thought, let alone a full sentence. Kieran's hand slides closer to your center as he leans in to press a kiss to your jaw, grinning when you let out a deep breath. 

"Dammit boys, you know I want you both! I've told you as much- could you please stop- stop torturing me… Jesus christ Kieran, that's amazing."

The dusting of stubble on Kieran’s face scratches deliciously on your neck as he kisses his way down to your collarbone. He smiles against your skin when he reaches the collar of the red Arsenal kit you wear, pulling it back between his teeth to expose more of your skin. A sharp inhale escapes you when his tongue darts over the hollow of your throat before he pulls away. 

"Kieran-"

"Yes sweetheart? What can I do for you?"

"Nothing- ahh, fuck off Martin!" Martin starts on the opposite side, repeating everything Kieran has just done in the same order. You can't tell if it's the liquor or the boys that you're drunk on, but you're loving every second. By the time Martin finishes his round, your head is spinning and you're certain you need something more from them. 

Martin leans across and grabs two bottles from near Kieran's feet. "Right, I'm doing tequila, mate you still want whisky yeah?" 

"Yeah that's fine with me, anything that'll get me tipsy!"

Martin grins and nods to the table set up for drinking games across the room. No one is currently using it and your stomach flips at the thought of what they're up to.

"Oh that'll work. Sweetheart," Kieran turns to you with a wicked smile that could convince you to do anything, "what do you say you let Martin and I do some shots off you?"

"I- I'm sorry, what?! Are you two insane- actually yes you are!" Both boys laugh and wait for you actual answer, wanting honesty and preferring not to sway your thoughts. Ninety nine percent of you screams yes, but that nagging voice in the back of your head reminds you that you could lose your job. The boys could be benched if anyone here said a word, though they seem confident no one will. And aside from all that… you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about the two of them together, fulfilling your own dirty fantasies. 

For once in your life, you decide you want to live for yourself instead of upholding the rule book. Plus you trust Martin's word and if he says you're safe, then you’ll take the risk. "Fuck it- yeah let's go!"

You fear your heart might burst out of your chest as you and your dynamic duo get settled in. You lay on the table they've cleared for you face up, knees bent, shoes sticking to the sugar-stained surface. Kieran's fingers brush your exposed stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in is wake and catching your attention. 

"Can I move this up a bit love?" He gently touches the hem of your kit and you nod, eager to get on with it before you change your mind. "Thank you. Just don't wanna wreck it is all, since I know you cannae replace it. It's the one from your first day yeah?" When you nod, Kieran smiles. "Thought so. Right, pour some out for us Mar!"

Kieran tucks your shirt up to your bra, exposing your entire midriff to the cold air. Martin splays a hand on your stomach and smiles at his mate. "You want upper or lower?"

Kieran tips his head and traces a finger between your hip bones with a tenderness that makes you shiver. He's thought about this long and hard. "Right there. That's my line."

"Gonna be cold elskling, bear with me yeah?" Despite the warning, you hiss when the alcohol hits your skin, but do your best to keep still. Fuck, are your shallow breaths because you're nervous or because of how fucking hot this whole thing is? 

"Mine will be right here then," Martin murmurs, dribbling a line a few inches beneath your shirt. "Same time Key?" 

Same time- what?! You lift your head in time to see Kieran nod, and both boys dip their heads. "What do you-" 

Under normal circumstances, you'd be embarrassed by the moan you let out when two tongues hit your stomach from opposite sides of your body. Martin and Kieran lick your skin dry, leaving it glistening when they pull away. Is this a dream? It has to be a fucking dream because you've never been turned on as much as you are now. Holy fuck was that erotic- you swear you can still feel their tongues on you even though they both are grinning at you while you lose your mind. 

"You like that sweetheart? We can do it again, I wouldn't be opposed." You nod before Kieran finishes talking, and Martin pours out another round onto your stomach. This time you're slightly more prepared for the jolt of pleasure down your spine but that doesn't stop you from groaning, back arching slightly and spilling the liquid across your abdomen before they're finished. 

Martin's hand lands square on your sternum and presses at the same time Kieran's finds your hip and does the same, keeping you from moving whilst they clean up the mess you created. Fucking hell, you're not sure you can take much more of this. You're already borderline overstimulated from their mouths on you and the hand Kieran inches up your side doesn't help matters. 

When both boys finish, they grin at each other. Their shining mouths set the gears in your head turning and you know they must be thinking exactly the same thing. 

Kieran is the one to break the silence, "Why don't we head upstairs and find a room yeah?"

Martin's grin is downright feral, curling your toes. "I thought you'd never fucking ask." Martin trails his fingers up your stomach, "and you, prinsesse? What do you say?"

"One of you carry me up right fucking now! I don't trust myself to walk." 

"Now that's a request I can honor." Kieran picks you up bridal style, one arm under your knees and the other around your back, taking the steps two at a time with Martin hot on his heels. You might not be sure how this will work but one thing is for certain: you're in for a long, pleasurable night. 

[influencermagazineuk]

A closely contested 1-0 win came for Inter Milan in their Champions League battle against Arsenal at San Siro as Hakan Calhanoglu maintained his perfect penalty record with the only goal of a tight match. With the defeat, the Gunners' unbeaten run in the competition was brought to an end as a week of turmoil at the club came to an end following the shock resignation of sporting director Edu. It was a disappointing evening for Arsenal manager Mikel Arteta, who got himself booked in the second half after pushing forward his team to equalise, thus narrowly avoiding being sent off. This latest loss, 1-0 on the road, was Arsenal's second consecutive 1-0 defeat away from home. Arsenal had the edge after the break, taking a total of 14 corners to Inter's zero. Steindy (talk) 10:15, 11 April 2016 (UTC), CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0, via Wikimedia Commons A penalty in the 48th minute was all Inter needed to take home this game after Mehdi Taremi's deflected flick struck Mikel Merino's arm, which, Arteta later said, was "hard to accept." The last time Arsenal visited Inter, nearly 21 years ago, is counted as one of their most iconic European nights after they secured a resounding 5-1 win. Edu, a midfielder then, played a key role along with Ray Parlour in this celebrated match, punctuated by a magnificent solo run by Thierry Henry. In this second meeting, though Arsenal showed a strong dominance of play after Inter's early thrust, the result was different. The Gunners had been observing a bit of inconsistency lately, losing three games in six across all competitions, which has halted their good run going on after the early part of the season. Some respite was seen towards the end of the game with the return of captain Martin Ødegaard, out for 12 matches because of an ankle injury. But Thomas Partey, stepping in for the unavailable Declan Rice, started anchored central midfield and Ben White filled in at the back, where Arsenal had yet to concede inside the Champions League proper until this defeat in the north of Italy. Inter, meanwhile, have four clean sheets in a row and are sitting pretty in the top eight Champions League teams. Arsenal, on the other hand, is now 12th. Simone Inzaghi, Inter's manager, left out several key players, including Calhanoglu and Taremi, for their weekend victory over Venezia, a move that came off as both players featured prominently in the win over Arsenal. With his focus on seeing lots of the ball and starving Arsenal of a chance to attack, the Italian champions set the tone early, but Inter nearly took the lead within seconds of the start after Denzel Dumfries hit the crossbar soon after having a Calhanoglu attempt that just went past the box. Arsenal found it hard to build any sort of flow in the first half. Gabriel Magalhães was surely instrumental in clearing Taremi's from the edge of the area but things went pear-shaped in a flash when the Brazilian was booked for his tussle with Lautaro Martínez. Arteta claimed the rest and sent on Jurriën Timber and Gabriel Martinelli, possibly anticipating against Dumfries. While Arsenal eventually found opportunities - a shot on target for Martinelli, a near-miss header from Merino - Inter's defense would not bend once in the opening half. The breakthrough came in stoppage time of the opening half, when referee awarded Inter a penalty after Calhanoglu calmly slotting the spot kick home as the Mertens volley was deflected off the arm of Merino inside the box to give Inter the lead and send Arsenal seeking the equalizer. After the penalty, Arteta brought in tactical alterations and replaced Merino with Gabriel Jesus, with Kai Havertz dropping into midfield. Arsenal pressed intensely throughout the second half. Martinelli first chipped the outside of the side netting before William Saliba got a corner wrong. Gabriel nearly headed home when his nod led to Dumfries clearing the ball off the line. Ødegaard warms up on the sideline, but Inter brings on fresh legs with a triple substitution, mere seconds past the hour. Arteta, visibly agitated, was yellow carded for handling the ball when it was already out of play for a free-kick from Inter. The referee gave Arteta his final yellow for his complaints about the handling. "It was an interesting conversation," said Arteta after. Arsenal had a great chance to draw the game level as Leandro Trossard's cross reached Havertz, but that German's shot was blocked by Inter's Yann Bisseck. An acute shortage of options left Arteta having to introduce 17-year-old Ethan Nwaneri before finally Ødegaard in added time. However, Inter's defense did not flinch and thus kept their clean sheet intact for a weekend clash with Napoli. Arsenal, though has to rebuild as their game against Chelsea is only heaping coals to an already tight week. Read the full article

[forty5sixty]

This One's A Keeper // The Artist Currently Known as Mikel

I'm not a fan of Mikel Arteta. There, I said it. I think he was a brilliant player with a brilliant football mind which has translated into his managerial career. Regardless of choking the title accusations, I think he overachieved last year in a season where most Arsenal fans would have taken 4th place and run to the bank. Simply put, Arsenal are ahead of schedule.

I'm just not a fan of Arteta the showman and actor. The same Arteta who performs as the public micro-manager/theatre director comically acting out his protagonists' every word and action behind the lens.

So with the ongoing saga of the rotating goalkeepers Aaron Ramsdale and David Raya, surely this is my chance to take a cheap shot. It is, but I won't. I think it's time to let Arteta the manager manage. How about we see this experiment through before we create the headlines, stand-firsts, and paragraphs? Guardiola had his inverted full-back (which others have tried to imitate), this is simply Arteta's rendition.

This is the same manager who had the foresight to snag the talented Martin Ødegaard when most of Europe either fell asleep at the wheel or forgot he existed. Again, he had the gumption to phase Pierre-Emerick Aubameyang out of the club for the benefit of the locker room and team harmony. A decision no one in hindsight calls the wrong move. Yes, some decisions haven't turned out the right way but just because this one is different, doesn't make it wrong.

In a game of fine margins, what if the comical Arteta mucks around and wins something big with his rotating cast of shot-stoppers? How long will it then be before we demand the same from our team's managers?

<end>

article: Ade Bankole video: CBS Sports Golazo

(297 words)

[emwritesfootball]

In His Shirt | Martin Ødegaard

Martin being turned on by you wearing his shirt with his name on the back x

Warnings: teasing, innuendo, brief mentions of sex

- - -

“Fuck, you look sexy,” Martin growled in Norwegian, his expression dark with lust.

“What?” You replied coyly, giving him an innocent look. “This old thing?”

The thing in question that you were referring to was Martin’s jersey. The two of you had been dating for a while, so naturally you had your fair share of his kits over the years. Tonight, you were wearing the first kit he’d ever given you, and by the look in his eyes, you could tell that Martin knew it, too.

You let out a surprised gasp when Martin reached out, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. “Don’t play innocent with me, Vennen. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Maybe I do,” you started, trailing your index finger down the centre of his chest, “and maybe I don’t.” You playfully twisted out of his grasp, giggling as you sauntered towards the kitchen - but not before you gave him a saucy wink over your shoulder, making sure to shake your hips a little more than usual.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Martin murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind, kissing your neck.

You arched your back, pressing your ass against his cock. You could feel the vibration of his chest as he groaned, his grip on your waist tightening. “Are you gonna do anything about it?” You challenged, wiggling your ass.

Martin muttered something filthy in Norwegian, practically dragging you back to the bedroom. A few minutes later, you were bent over the bed, your panties around your ankles and his jersey still on as Martin thrust into you.

[tierneysodegaard]

Vodka and Lemonade - Martin Ødegaard x Reader

Martin Odegaard x female!Reader

Requested? Yes/No

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, sexual tension

Anon: heyyyy!! so i have this idea/prompt for a martin ødegaard one shot. you and martin have been close for a while but both of you busy/had to focus on your personal life so didnt evolve into anything more than a friendship. arsenal just qualified for ucl and you’re celebrating with the team after the game. you go get some drinks while martin come with you and he asks if he can taste whatever you’re drinking, you hand him your cup expecting him to take it but instead he puts it aside and kisses you.

if its too specific you dont have to do it i understand!!!!!

—

You and Martin had been friends ever since he came to London on loan. You’d met him on your way to work, you were running late and weren’t paying much attention and nor was he. He was on his morning run, trying to change the song on his phone and you were checking the time to see how late you’d be when the two of you fell into one another. He accidentally poked you square in the eye which made your make up run, not a good look for work. He was so apologetic and asked for you to come back to his so he could make sure you were okay and so you could make yourself look presentable. The pair of you got on like a house on fire and decided to exchanging  numbers and since then you were inseparable. 

The only thing was it was harder to see one another towards the end of his season. He started playing more games and work wanted you to pick up more hours after a colleague of yours went off on maternity leave. He’d now been in London for well over a year now and you’d met his friends and he’d met yours and all of them agreed that the two of you had something. The way you looked at one another was a sight of lust and love, something that neither of you could fake but it seemed as if neither of you had caught on to one another's gazes. 

So you thought. 

Martin always knew he wanted you he just didn’t know how. He was always worried he’d gotten the wrong idea and what his friends were saying about you was just their imaginations. 

It was the last game of the season and Arsenal had one last chance to secure The Champions League. Martin had been given the Captains armband when Kieran Tierney suffered an injury and Laca stopped starting games. The armband just added more pressure to win and succeed. 

Martin had sent you a text asking if you’d be free to come to the last game and luckily for him, you were. As it was the last game Arsenal had already released their new kit which the boys were debuting, this gave you an idea. Walking in the shop you found the new kit and thankfully they had some with Martin’s surname on the back. Smiling to yourself at your idea, hoping he’d like it as you went to pay. 

Martin always waited in his box for you just so he knew you were there safe although you always went to games with your best friend so you were never alone. He was leaning against the wall, his leg bouncing as you kept checking his phone, still hoping you were still coming. Time had passed and he grew nervous, he worried something had happened but that worry faded when he saw you approach him. 

“I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a longing hug. 

“Just had to pick up a shirt.” You mumbled into his chest before pulling back. “And I had to get my favourite player on the back.” You winked as he laced his hand with yours, lifting it so he could twirl you around to see the back of the shirt. Sure enough his name and number came into view as his eyes settled on your back. 

“Fuck…” He mumbled under his breath at the sight before him. Martin already thought you were the hottest woman in the world but now the sight of you proudly wearing his name made his mind run. He knew he shouldn’t have thought what he did but he couldn’t help himself. He imagined you in his shirt whilst he traced his fingers over your skin, having you underneath him all for himself. He imagined pulling the collar of the shirt down to reveal marks he wanted to leave all of your skin. 

“Martin?” He hadn’t realised that he had zoned out until you called out his name. 

“Hmm? Yes?”

“You okay?” You gave him a look.

“Yes! I’m just admiring the sight before me.” He winked as his eyes continued to trace your body. “You look good with my name on your back and in the colour red.”

“Oh yeah?” Your playful tone matched his. 

“Yeah you do pretty girl -”

“Martin!” A sudden voice grabbed yours and his attention. Martin had invited a few friends from Norway to come and watch the game and they had finally arrived. Much to his dismay he had to pardon himself and go to greet them whilst you and y/b/f went to get drinks. 

The blonde tried to slip away from his friends and speak to you before he had to change for the game but it was no use. Despite knowing how he felt about you they still continued to talk their mouths off so he couldn’t leave until he physically had to go as the game was due to take place soon. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to talk with you for long.” He caught your attention as he was about to leave. 

“It’s fine.” You smiled. “They don’t live in London, I do and I can see you whenever I want, they can’t.” You glanced over to them before meeting his gaze again. “Good luck Martin.” You took his hands into yours. “Lead them to a win.”

“I will.” He longed to feel your hands in his like this forever. He just wanted to hold your hand like that wherever he went. “The families and friends all come on the pitch at the end, will you come on with me at when the game is over?” He had a hopeful smile on his face as he waited for your response. 

“I’d love to.” You smiled back. 

The pair of you shared one last hug before he darted off to the pitch. Arsenal had won 4-1 and Martin had scored the last goal of the season. As he celebrated he looked up to his box, smiling your way as he raised his fist just before the final whistle blew. Everyone in the stadium were on the feet, clapping the boys as their friends and families made their way out and onto the pitch to celebrate with them. 

“Congratulations Captain Ødegaard.” You were the first to greet him as everyone made their way over. “You’re in the Champions league.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my good luck charm.” He gave you a hug before speaking again. “We’re going to the club after to celebrate, would you like to come with us? I want you there and all the guys would kill me if I didn’t bring you.”

You let out a small laugh at his words. “I’d love to, what time?”

“Does ten work for you?”

“It does.”

“Perfect.” His smile grew. “I’ll meet you outside.” 

“Lucky me.” You winked. “It suits you.” Your eyes trailed down to his bicep where the armband proudly stood. Your hands traced up his arm to tug on it slightly, showing him what you meant. “And the one you wear for Norway suits you too.” 

He loved the way your hands moved up his arm, his mind shouldn’t wander again but he couldn’t help himself. He just wanted to take in every inch of you and feel your arms clinging onto him as he kissed every part of you. 

“You think so?” He broke himself out of his thoughts, again. “Who knows maybe I’ll get it permanently for Arsenal.” 

“I’m sure you will.” 

“Maybe you should come to Norway and watch me play.” 

“You know -” You went to speak when you felt something well someone run into your leg. Looking down you saw Ben’s nephew looking up at you, a smile on his face. Bending down you took the boy in your arms. “Hello angel, did you enjoy the game?”

“Yeah!” He giggled as you smiled at him. The sight before Martin melted his heart. You’d met Ben’s nephew a few times when you came to games and the boy would always come and say hello no matter what. Martin loved the way you interacted with him, he’d spent countless hours trying to figure out how to ask you on a date without fucking up the friendship and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined what the future held if things went well between the two of you. He was too lost in the scene before him to catch on to the photographer taking a photo of the three of you. 

—

You took your time with getting ready and after Martin mentioned how nice you looked in red you decided to wear a red dress that showed off your body perfectly. Meanwhile Martin was lying on his sofa whilst his friends were already having pre drinks in his kitchen. His eyes were glued to his phone, looking at the photo of you, him and Ben’s nephew. Anyone who didn’t know you both would have thought the two of you were a little family. 

“Just ask her man.” One of his friends leaned over the sofa, handing him a drink. “You’ll only regret it if you don’t.”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“How do you know if you don’t ask?” He raised his brows at his friend. “If you keep silent one day someone is going to come along and take her from you and for the rest of your days you’ll have to watch another man put his hands all over her knowing that it should have been you.” 

Martin huffed, setting his phone aside. “You have a point.”

“Do it tonight, have a drink for confidence and just ask her.”

Martin knew he was right. He couldn’t believe he could go out in front of millions and captain his team and country but not even ask out the girl he’d fallen for. He took his mates advice, taking a drink before they left for the club hoping it would give him the confidence he needed to ask you on a date. 

—

You and Martin were sitting alongside the rest of he Arsenal lads, even Mikel had turned up to celebrate their achievement. Ben had bought the entire table shots and made everyone all take them together. The sudden rush of alcohol only adding to Martin’s confidence as he rests his hand on your thigh, a smirk coming to his lips when he felt you ease into his touch and lean closer towards him. 

Martin looked down at you, his eyes raking over your body. He couldn’t help but bite his inner cheek at the sight of you. The red completed your features, only making him desire you even more. He ducked his head down so his lips could ghost your ear as he spoke. “You look beautiful.” 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” You turned your head slightly, now it was your time to admire him. His white shirt tightly wrapped around his chest, clearly displaying every single one of his muscles. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t imagined tracing them with your nails. 

“Thank you darling.” 

“You guys mind if I squeeze in here?” Ben grabbed both of yours attention as he slid inside the booth. There certainly wasn’t room for all of you so everyone was doing their best to squeeze together. 

“No not at all.” Martin replied. He grabbed your hips and lifted you up effortlessly before placing you in his lap, his hands laying across your thighs as Ben sat beside the two of you. “You okay?” Martin whispered in your ear, suddenly realising maybe he should have asked you before pulling you onto his lap. 

“Perfect.” You turned your head to face him as you spoke. 

His hands didn’t leave your body as the night went on. Aaron had introduced a drinking game meaning everyone was slowly getting tipsy well, the lads were getting drunk fastest due to the lack of alcohol they’re allowed to consume during the season. Martin’s lips kept ghosting the back of your neck, almost like he wanted to do something. The feeling of his lips ghosting your skin and the feeling of his arms protectively around your waist and thighs drove you crazy. 

Standing up and pulling your dress down, trying not to come across as flustered from Martin’s touch. “I’m going to get a drink, anyone want another?” 

“Can you get me a pint?” Kieran called out. “I’ll transfer you the money!”

“Can I have one too?” Aaron followed suit. 

“y/n can you get me a double rum and coke?” Saka continued. 

“Do you want one?” You turned to Martin. 

“I’ll come with.” He winked as the pair of you shuffled your way out of the booth and towards the bar. Martin placed a hand on the small of your back as he guided you to the bar. 

You ordered the drinks, getting yours first you took a sip as Martin watched. “What are you drinking?” He asked innocently. 

“Vodka and lemonade, you ever had it before?”

“I have not.”

“You’ve never had vodka and lemonade?” You asked in disbelief. “Martin it’s like the most standard drink you can get -”

“You forget that the two of us have had very different lives darling.” He leaned closer as he spoke. 

“Even so I thought you’d at least have tried it.”

“Nope, never.” 

“Do you want to?” You handed to drink to him. 

“Sure.” Martin raised the glass to lips but never took a sip. He quickly set the glass aside and captured your lips into his, tasting the sweet liquid that still lingered on your lips. His hand came to cup your jaw whilst the other grabbed your waist and pulled your hips into his. You quickly kissed him back, running your hands through his blonde locks, deepening the kiss and allowing him to bite down on your bottom lip, the action alone making you moan. 

He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“Believe me Martin.” You planted a light kiss on his lips. “I think I know.” 

“Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?”

“I’d love to Captain Ødegaard.” 

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (pt. 4)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim. Well, except the one thing he needs now is only available in the hands of his (ex) girlfriend.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word Count: 4.0k

Note: please, please, please don't hate me for this lolol but we're going for a rollercoaster, odegirlies, so brace yourself! but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. feedbacks are welcome tho!

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc <3<3 (lemme know if you want to be added!)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5

It seemed Martin couldn’t operate around her if there was no false pretense standing between him and Eve.

The moment the clock literally struck 12, lightning struck back Eve’s life and returned them to normalcy. So normal that everyone else but her barely noticed the apparent changes unravelling around London Colney; she was back to Eve the receptionist, and Martin was back to his constantly-grumpy state to no one but Eve.

No more was the beautiful-looking couple captivating the entire Christmas Gala with their explosive, fantastic chemistry that shunned even the longest relationship existing in the same room.

She’d like to think going back to square one was better, given their real circumstances, but Martin wasn’t giving her any edges. Worse, he’d gone barely seen, and that was saying a lot when Eve was known to be the ghost of the building, for her immaculate presence all over the facility.

Some said he snuck in when Eve was always busy running errands; some said he arrived before anyone else in the morning; some said he clocked out later than the security team.

Final straw came when everyone was gathering in the canteen to bid Eve farewell on her very last day of working in the amazing club. Every single person working at London Colney—including Bob, even—applauded her for the fantastic job she’d been doing for the club, despite the short time shared on the grounds. A certain Norwegian blonde, however, remained unidentifiable until the 15-minute town hall before lunch ended.

Much to the front liner’s dismay, most turned to Eve about it. After all, Eve and Martin were still an item in their eyes. Eve could only do so much as replying, “we just don’t want you guys to be sick of us,” whenever the question of Martin’s avoidance towards crowds was raised, while chucking in the tears that were threatening to slide down her cheeks because she knew better—she knew the truth.

It shouldn’t be breaking Eve’s heart, but the damage had been done.

Eve wanted to badly lie to herself that she was doing that out of spite, that pulling out that degree of stupid stunt was her futile, foolish attempt to get him running after her like those chick-flicks she stashed in her library.

But Eve knew better—reality didn’t fit into Cinderella’s pair of glass heels, especially for someone like her, who fought for proper living standard every day to make ends. Eve and Martin were raised in different circumstances, made from worlds apart, meant for different purposes in life. There was no way they were going to be together—not in this lifetime nor any other alternate universes—as this wasn’t some written fairy tales.

She couldn’t afford a heartbreak when she’d foreseen the fruitless future if she were to share one with him, just like she couldn’t afford the gown she’d returned in the same satin box he’d delivered to her door.

This is for the better, she hypnotised herself as she placed the soft, expensive box on Martin’s bench, trying to pale the ache slicing through her chest. You have a realistic life to live.

Fuck rom-coms. She was going to discard each and every one left in her library as soon as she enjoyed her two-week notice.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Obviously, with that being said, Eve didn’t have the heart to throw away the only outlets for her to escape the harsh reality for someone who came from a working-class family and inherited the reality of working 9-to-5 like her. Especially when those fake-dating tropes—ironically—reminded her of all the wonderful time she spent with Martin, no matter how fleeting and fragile those moments were.

Weeks after the Christmas Gala, Eve could now proudly say she thought of them as something precious because when else were you indulged in the luxury of being in Martin Ødegaard’s arms, acting or not?

Her best friend bit her ears off for taking the whole thing “like a champ”, as if her heart was made of steel when she was legitimately allowed to swallow the bitter pill while crying her heart out. Eve actually considered doing them, specifically during the first week after the painful no-show of her last day, but she decided against in and focused on the positive notes.

Dwelling over negatives wouldn’t turn around the fact that someone as great as Martin Ødegaard was destined for someone his calibre, someone that was definitely not Eve.

So it didn’t make any sense when she found Martin, already leaning against his car with hands in his pocket—undoubtedly hiding them against the cold air of a very early morning—as she walked down the porch of her flat. From where she stood, frozen at the unprecedented event unfolding before her eyes, his side profile gave away nothing but pursed lips, like he was holding off his thoughts from spilling.

Oh, how much Eve wanted a penny for that beautiful mind of his.

But she couldn’t. Unlike the night of the Christmas gala, Martin revoked her access to them. What used to be something easy for Eve to read between the lines was now guarded by a fence so high it put Wall of China to shame.

“Martin,” At his name being called, the owner of the name stood up straight, and—god damn it—Eve’s heart raced at the movement, for it reminded her of what happened between them in front of that sketchy backdoor toilet. “What are you doing here?

Despite being missing on action for weeks, Eve hated how much Martin still affected her, body and soul. She wasn’t even nearby Martin, distance between them were about 100 metres but might as well have the Atlantic between them like they used to be.

But no matter the palpable distance between where they respectively stood, Martin, on the other hand, would always be able to pick up her signature breathy voice that went only slightly above a whisper. It was the very sound he didn’t know he could miss hearing.

Like she was breathless, like he’d taken her breath away. The same way she did his.

If only he could tell her that… But instead of mulling over endless possibilities that couldn’t happen—not when Eve herself didn’t give them a chance, something she’d blatantly said at the end of Christmas gala—Martin stuck to the one thing he excelled at; choosing reality.

“Angel,” Words flowed effortlessly from Martin’s mouth but his smile was rather tight on the corners, and Eve hated it already when she knew first hand how blinding his real, true smile could be. “I see you’re going to the flower market.”

Had Eve’s eyes not focused on taking in Martin’s appearance, she would’ve swooned at the fact Martin remembered her little peculiar antics of getting a fresh set of flowers every Sunday from the flower market.

But his dishevelled presentation, so striking to the well-kempt display he always had everywhere, stole away her attention. It wasn’t only the mess on top of his hair, of his blonde locks gone astray to every direction; it was also the garments he threw on without a care in the world, all in black, like he was mourning.

His blue eyes descended to the deepest pit of the ocean, no longer shining in the glint she loved the most, especially bright against low lights. Like those eyebags were swallowing them whole, like those eyebags were a blackhole instead of dark circles.

His cheeks sunken, no longer protruding as high as a skyscraper, so different to the image of a Viking everyone labelled the captain as. If Eve didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed Martin had undergone those cosmetic surgery of buccal fat removal.

He looked so haggard, as if he’d lost weight; exhaustion personified. She could only wonder why—perhaps Arsenal’s losing strike took a toll on him—since asking his well-being was not on the cards anymore, not since they stopped pretending to be lovers, not since Martin didn’t give them a chance.

Martin took his open opportunity when they fell into a pregnant silent. “I’ll take you there.”

“Why are you here?”

“I said I’m taking you to the flower market,” He said, as easy as the wind breezed past them. “What kind of boyfriend am I to let my girlfriend to roam around such crowded places so early in the morning?”

The indifference he showed, both in words and action, caught her off-guard. He was back to display the whole no-shit-sherlock attitude around her, complete with the expressionless face, like she should know the most obvious fact, and Eve had to remind herself that this was the real Martin, not the one that fooled everyone attending the Christmas gala.

Including Eve herself.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Martin.”

“In the eyes of the public, I am,” Martin shrugged his shoulder so nonchalantly, as if it didn’t hurt Eve to know he was doing just fine barging into her life like it was the most natural thing to do for him. “My family included.”

Wait, what?

“I need your help,” He continued, his hands moved from the pockets of his jacket to the pockets of his jeans. It scared Eve when he said those massive, literally burdensome words with squared shoulders and calm demeanour and collected composure—she felt like she was his opponent on the pitch. “My family went to the game today, only to be ambushed by many congratulations that I’ve scored a wonderful, lovely match of a girlfriend. One that that they don’t know of because it’s one I never tell them—”

“Because she doesn’t exist.”

“She did during the gala, but that’s not the point,” Martin had to grind out his teeth from the inside, the perfect epitome how her words gnawed his heart from inside out because while they were nothing but facts, it didn’t make them any less hurtful to him—and to what could’ve been between them. “They want to have lunch with you today.”

Martin let out the last sentence with a heavy puff of breath. With the way his jaw ticked tightly, Eve could tell he hated saying that, like he’d take any other option but to ask her to pretend once more if he had the chance.

Maybe he’d told his family about us pretending but his family didn’t accept such a ridiculous pretense that they forced him to talk to her, and that the lunch was merely their effort to amend them. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” See, he even wished to have nothing to do with me anymore. Did he hate me so much? “You should know by now that being honest with you is something I wish to uphold.”

 “Even when our relationship is a farce?”

Martin didn’t have the heart to answer it, and Eve didn’t have the heart to acknowledge the pregnant silence.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“You had a game today, you’re supposed to be resting.”

Boyfriend or not, Martin really intended to come along by Eve’s side to the flower market, despite her initial protests and complaints. No one in the right mind went to the flower market alone at 2 in the morning, without a proper transportation on top of that.

Taxi and Uber certainly didn’t count as a safety mode of transportation for Martin. You never know what can possibly happen in that small space of four-wheeler—we’ve seen too much of real-life cases that happens to women.

I’ve been doing this for ages, but she failed to realise that just because something never happened to her, it wasn’t going to happen. In Martin’s defence, he had a sister himself and he didn’t want anything bad happen to Eve the way he didn’t want them to happen to his sister.

I am used to this, Martin, but she didn’t have to get used to those things. She didn’t have to get used to all these dangerous things she downplayed as normalcy because he knew that she had the options, she’d definitely want to take the tube or buses. She could be having what her heart desires—she should be.

No matter what went down between them at the end of the day, Martin would certainly give her a flak if she settled with someone less than what she deserved.

And no, that lucky bastard didn’t have to be Martin.

It wasn’t going to be Martin anyway, Eve made it clear at the very end of their contractual relationship once a long while ago.

“Can’t sleep well lately, anyway.”

Martin’s phlegmatic manner was now in sync—his actions were now as schooled as his facial features. His hands ran down the flower petals thoughtlessly, not giving anything of his mind away, just like his hardened expressions. Aloof, and Eve took it as a sign to reduce her small talks.

“You should see Doc about it.”

“You think I haven’t done that?” Eve’s hearts plummeted along with the way he sputtered the words, as if she should be smarter about the whole ordeal, and this time Eve was the one who had to school her expression so Martin couldn’t see her disappointment towards his attitude—he must not see them. The last time she gave away too much of her, she ended up doing rom-coms marathon with a tube of Ben n Jerry’s. “Doc’s prescribed me something but it’s no use,”

It might be the stress talking…, Eve tried to reason with herself.

“I don’t see the point of meds, to be honest,” Martin let out another heavy sigh as his hand ran through his hairs, messing them in frustrations. “Not when I’ve been restless since you’re gone.”

How could she possibly have a proper response to that?

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“There they are!”

Martin didn’t even have the chance to open Eve’s door completely before his mother ran down the porch towards his car to engulf Eve in the warmest hug Eve had ever gotten from a woman. Funny—despite never meeting his mother before, Eve had the most familiar feeling around her, like they were old friends reunited, and she didn’t know what to feel.

Partly because she didn’t share the same sentiment with her own mother, partly because she felt guilty that his mother had already welcomed her in this house like she was truly Martin’s girlfriend when, in fact, she wasn’t even close to what the word meant.

It didn’t even take his mother a minute to lead her towards the house, like she owned the residential instead of a visiting his son’s abode, asking if Eve had any food allergy that she should be aware of. That was amongst the things she questioned; others were trivial questions in order to get to know his son’s girlfriend.

With the swift pace his mother was speaking, though, Eve had to look beyond his mother’s shoulder to throw a help-me look to Martin because there was no way she could survive this on her own.

Eve couldn’t bring to hate herself for always seeking Martin’s aid this time around, no matter how much she wanted to be free of him. Like she promised herself internally just before she plopped down beside Martin on the passenger seat.

“That’s enough, mamma,” Martin strode his way towards the two of them, one hand reached for his mother’s that was grippling the life of Eve to set Eve free, before both hands clenched her shoulder gently. “She hasn’t even taken off her coat, but she’s allergic to shrimp and other soft-shell seafood.”

“Oh no, I’ve made crayfish—”

“It’s okay, she can have your venison,” Eve didn’t have time to discern anything because everything happened at the same time she didn’t even have time to breathe, not even the fact that Martin had gained information on her allergies, so she was lucky Martin took over the conversation. She shed her coat when Martin wordlessly tugged the wool piece, both of their eyes still set on the powerhouse that was his mother, and at that interaction, the matron smiled wider. “By the way, my mother makes the best venison, solskinn. Glad you can finally try them.”

“Ah, the infamous roasted venison you love? What’s that called again?”

“Dyresteg,” His mother answered for her, before Martin could have the chance. At the speed of lightning his mother unknowingly possessed—at least, one that he got to know of until today, in front of Eve, more over—Martin forced himself to look up from the set of eyes that reminded him of the deer but belonged to Eve. “I see that Martin’s told you about his soulfood.”

“He can’t shut up about it,” Eve elbowed Martin teasingly and the man replied by faking pain at it, which resulted in them both laughing without constraint. Without an underlying justification called fake dating between them. “Maybe I should learn one thing or two while the master is here so I can cook them for you.”

“That’s—” Eve’s response, however, startled both Martin and his mother. While Martin was rather taken aback at the genuine tone Eve used—because now he really couldn’t draw the line which one was the real Eve, unlike the night of the Christmas gala—his mother was caught off guard because she couldn’t recall the last time someone had ever offered to do such thing for Martin. Living in a different country meant she couldn’t cook her son’s favourite dish whenever she wanted to, and so far the girlfriends her son managed to take home didn’t care about anything beyond the luxury he could give them. “That’s very lovely of you. I hope you bring your notes.”

But to say she liked Eve already would be an understatement. Eve didn’t make it difficult to take her into everyone’s good side, as well, and as a mother, Eve had nailed in the moment she typed down every instruction she was giving Eve to make the perfect dyresteg. And maybe also little moments where Martin stole little pecks on her cheeks from behind whenever he was getting his brothers and sisters something from the fridge—because she knew her son only did that out of gratitude, the same way he used to do it to his mother whenever she was cooking this particular favourite dish of his.

At one point of cooking, everyone was flocking the kitchen and before they knew it, Martin’s brothers and sisters were already drilling the Norwegian captain’s embarrassing stories during childhood.

“Do you remember the time where he got lost because he followed someone he thought was mamma?”

“No way!” Eve’s eyes bulged out in pure surprise that Martin couldn’t help but laugh, instead of stopping his older brother’s beginning of Martin’s most embarrassing anecdote. “What happened?”

Martin’s mother noticed Eve’s focus was slowly shifting from dyresteg to the tale Christoph was giving so she dismissed the younger woman, only for Eve to realise there was no seat left on the kitchen island.

Martin didn’t think twice to pull her by the waist towards him, “Come here.”

“This feels oddly familiar,” Eve laughed under her breath, not wanting to disrupt Christoph’s flow in retelling his story, but enough only for Martin to hear, as she settled in the room between his legs. “Don’t tell me to sit on your lap again this time, we have your youngest sister watching.”

“Yes, mother,” Their position, her back on his front, eased up Martin’s way to reply her in a whisper, and they fell back to the smooth flow they had constructed during the Christmas gala. “I will behave.”

And behave he did. Without further words, Martin gave up his seat for Eve while he stood by behind her. His mother didn’t miss the way Martin never let go of Eve, always having an arm around the woman’s waist at least.

She also didn’t miss the way they’d look at each other when laughing, the way her hand covered the one Martin was placing around her hips, or the way he’d kissed the small spot on the temple above her ears while she stroke his square jawline back and forth. At one point, Eve laughed so hard at Christoph’s story that Martin had to envelope her into a back hug and hid himself in the crook of her neck so naturally it almost felt like watching water moulding into a medium’s shape.

She wanted to be jealous, as a mother, but she realised that her son was slowly building a life—his own life—here with someone he truly loved, and as a mother, she couldn’t be happier than knowing someone had taken care of her son very well, especially when he was living too far from her for a mother’s liking.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Let me help you with that.”

Eve almost dropped the plate on her hands at Martin’s voice creeping from behind. She insisted on washing the dishes—or putting them to the dishwasher, depends on your standard—not because she wanted to play the good girlfriend card, but because she was raised that way; if someone else cooks, dishes are on her shoulder.

She was used to be misunderstood by other about it but before she could explain herself, Martin stepped in and said, “Let her be, Mom. She’s always like that and I can never win.”

Creepy would be an understatement of how well Martin knew things she never had disclosed to anyone.

“You should’ve told me you have such a big family,” Eve tried to break the ice that stood between them, so thin it was barely there, but present nonetheless, especially with the way they stood so close with one another. Shoulder to shoulder, Martin reached for utensils and ceramics Eve finished cleaning. “I would’ve come more prepared in facing your brothers and sisters.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Martin said, and although Eve didn’t see them, she could sense a small smile blossomed in his face. “I hope they don’t overwhelm you.”

“Not at all,” But Eve had to chuckle because come to think of it, Martin’s brothers and sisters could be overwhelming. Maybe they’d got under her skin if she was not pretending to be Martin’s girlfriend. “They’re all so fun to be around with. I wish I have siblings to banter with like yours.”

Martin laughed at Eve’s teasing jab. He could never live down the stupid anecdotes his siblings shared when he was just a kid, could he now?

“So grateful you don’t work at Arsenal anymore,” He crouched down to insert all of the cleaned dishes to the dishwasher. “What a disaster if you spill them to everyone at Colney.”

It wasn’t supposed to rub Eve in all the wrong way but it somehow did. Was he that truly glad to be rid of her?

“Please don’t let me stop that.”

Eve looked up to Martin, who was now standing towering over her, eyes zeroed down on her with a look she couldn’t decipher. And maybe she didn’t want to figure out what lied beneath them, for she was terrified the answer would only hurt her. It was something she found out just now that Martin was rather good at it.

She gave him a small smile to hide what she was thinking, grounding herself to not give any piece of her away and reminding herself the last time she did give herself away, and Martin already hated them. Eve and coerced smile didn’t belong in the same sentence. “Stop what?”

“You smiling. I’ve missed that a lot.”

*solskinn means sunshine in norwegian.

[pensat-i-fet]

A better apology (Martin Ødegaard x Reader)

**Requested. I hope you guys enjoy it! It’s a little harder to write for people I don’t follow but still a lot of fun 😊❤️**

Word count: 1081

Masterlist

Wattpad

"Alright. As former captain, I'll supervise this new captain initiation", said Xhaka, staring at his successor.

"Captain initiation? That's not a thing".

"It's at Arsenal, Martin. And it's time for yours".

The team had decided to go for dinner together at a fancy London restaurant. It was the beginning of the season and a bit of bonding wouldn't hurt. But this turn of events was not something the new young captain welcomed.

"I'm not singing here. We'll be kicked out".

"Nah, singing is boring. You have to do something else".

"What?"

"Steal something".

"What?!", Martin couldn't believe what his teammate was asking. "I'm not going to steal anything! Are you crazy?"

"Just something small. They won't notice".

"It's a tradition", said Ramsdale, trying not to laugh. He was pretty sure there was no tradition but he wanted to join in the joke.

Martin shook his head and they all changed the subject and continued eating. But he couldn't stop thinking about it. His teammates knew he was superstitious and would worry about this bringing the team bad luck. 

So when he got up to go to the bathroom, he noticed a very small decoration near the door. And so on the way out, he took it and put it in his pocket.

"Done!", he said when he sat down.

"You're kidding!", said Bukayo, looking around to see if anyone was looking at them when his captain took the decoration from his pocket and showed them briefly.

Xhaka was laughing but he was also impressed. "Yeah, we are in good hands with you. But I might never invite you to my house. I have expensive stuff there".

Martin rolled his eyes and put the decoration back in his pocket. He still couldn't believe what he had done. 

By the time they were done with dinner, they all looked at him and left. He had to pay too, great.

"Excuse me!", he told you when you walked past the table. "Could I have the bill, please? Whenever you have the time".

"Of course".

You had been paying attention to the table. You weren't allowed to serve them but being an Arsenal fan, you couldn't deny it was intriguing to see the players there.

"Here. Do you want me to add what you stole to the total or do you want to give it back and we can pretend nothing happened?

You weren't normally this bold. It wouldn't be deemed professional. But seeing him do that had really annoyed you. These men have everything they could ask for…but want to steal things too? Ridiculous.

Martin had gone even paler when he heard your words. His hand went to his pocket and he took the decoration out and gave it to you.

"It's not what it looks like".

"I don't care about what it is".

He felt so disappointed. This wasn't something he did but he let his teammates pressure him and do it. And now he had embarrassed himself in front of you. And, of course, he didn’t know you but had noticed you moving around the restaurant all night. 

"Here", he said, giving you the card machine back after paying.

"Thank you, sir. I hope your meal was pleasant and that we see you again soon", you said, politely.

Martin just nodded and left, still embarrassed. And you felt slightly bad for him but…he got himself into that situation. 

When you looked at the receipt you noticed the tip he had left. He must have felt really guilty.

                                        **

"Someone is asking for you?", told you one of your coworkers.

"For me? Which table?"

"Not a table. It's someone by the front door".

"But I can't leave…I'm really busy".

"Charlie knows. It's fine".

So you went to the door, wondering who could be asking for you. And then saw Martin there.

"Can we talk?"

"I'm working".

"It's ok. Your manager is giving you a 20-minute break".

"He is?", you asked, shocked. "Is he having a stroke?"

Martin laughed at your reaction. "Just come with me, please".

When you were finally alone, you two sat down and you looked at him waiting to see what he wanted from you.

"I wanted to apologize. For the other day. It was a prank my teammates played on me and I was stupid enough to fall for it. Not that it excuses my behaviour but I wanted to let you know".

"You weren't stealing from me. I'm not the one who deserves an apology".

"You were the only one who noticed and I don't know who owns the restaurant, so", he shrugged.

"Ok, you're forgiven".

"You don't mean that".

"I just…I'm a fan, ok? And I was not allowed to work on your table because I wasn't trusted or whatever", you said, rolling your eyes. "And then I saw that you do that and…it was disappointing. Especially that it was you who did it".

He noticed the blush on your cheeks and smiled.

"Why was it worse? Bukayo is the saint, not me".

"But Bukayo isn't my favourite", you confessed. 

"Then I'm even more sorry. I'll make sure you forget about this when I'm on the pitch".

"I guess that will do", you said, laughing.

You realized your break was almost finished. Already?, you thought, annoyed.

"I need to go".

"So, am I forgiven?", he asked, offering his hand for you to shake.

"You're forgiven, captain".

                                      **

"Someone is asking for you…again".

"What?"

Your coworker just pointed at the front door again and you were wondering if Martin had shown up again. I mean, you forgave him, why would he be there?

"Hi miss, can you sign here?"

"Sure".

It wasn't Martin but a delivery man with a box for you. You signed the notice and took the box quickly, anxious to know what was in it but also knowing you needed to get back to work soon.

When you opened it, you saw a red shirt. An Arsenal shirt. And unfolding it, you saw the name Ødegaard on the back. You put it down to see the rest of the box’s contents and found two tickets for the next match…and a letter.

"Talking to you the other day didn't seem like enough, so I hope tickets for a match are a better peace offer. For a better apology. 

And since I'm your favourite, you can wear my shirt to the match. And maybe, if you want me to, I can sign it for you after we win.

Martin".

[yourstrqly]

only direction; ødegaard

pairing: martin ødegaard x fem!reader

warning: angst w a slightly cute ending (also first time writing an angst and not proofread !!)

rina's masterlist

it shouldn't go the way it did, it wasn't even supposed to happen — it was supposed to be a happy ending for the pair of you, like orpheus being desperately devoted to his beautiful eurydice or marie curie keeping on working on her husbands and her own science researches even after his death.

you already had suffered, yet the world couldn't stop the misery, presenting you with an apocalyptic kind of shit.

martin and you had given each other everything since day one, always supporting one another, fighting together but nothing good lasts forever.

Your grandma once said to you that you're only kids, the first love's always going to be a shadow following you around, you'd have to look over your shoulder to spot it, — a reminder if you will say so —, however the heartbreak wasn't something she thought worth of mentioning.

oh the heartbreak. the norwegian and you weren't a romance people fantasized about though you had been content and in love. As you grew within age, the problem started to announce themselves — when you fought, you fought like lions, clashing and making up afterwards.

Holding on the idea of love — desire, together being stronger, almost like winners, and comfort —, neither of you understood how love could get lost in years of being partners. How would someone realise the feeling after seven years? Would you even step forward and admit it? Would you even find another partner, fall in love?

So many questions and you won't get answers if not committing to the true feelings.

You both had been talking about the near future; a wedding, a bigger house, even kids were on the list. Adult things, a list society had written out to all the "traditional" couples. In a sense the blonde footballer and y/n were the subject; wearing the pink glasses, you had definitely talked about it.

But then again life happens. You started to see each other less, neither of you taking the time for the other which resulted in screaming battels. Those also took place when for example Martin put a clothing article of yours away or not talking about little things like buying small trinkets and weekly meal planning.

The more you stressed about talking about the next stage of your relationship, the more toxic it got, so one day you decided to break. You knew Martin would never step up, not having the heart to say those words. But someone had to before you'd grow old and miserable.

Thats the starting point; Wednesday evening in the middle of mai. With the back to you the norwegian watched the london traffic, staying silent and waiting for you to speak. Both of you felt the tension in the air, holding on the last minutes of the delusional thing that you called a loving relationship.

Taking a deep breath, you starred at his back. The words burned on the tip of your tongue.

"Martin, you know that we're not the same anymore", you spoke. Nervously, you smooth out the fabric of you shirt, clearly in search of a reaction but the man didn't do anything which in return frustrated you. Weren't you worth a reaction, a word or a gesture?

"I do love you though, but this is hard. This", you pointed between the pair of you, despite him not looking at you, "this is breaking us."

Finally turning around you could see tears shining in the blonde's eyes — a sight you hated to witness. It didn't matter how often you saw him silently crying, it broke a piece in you. Before you feel in love with him, he had been your best friend, your day one, your ride or die.

"Say it y/n, say words", he requested in a exhausted tone.

Tears started to escape your eyes, rolling down your cheeks.

"I fell out off love", you cried, "I'm sorry, I didn't want to, it simply happened." Repeating the apology whilst breaking completely down you didn't notice how Martin made his way up to you. Gently, he pulled you in his strong arms, caressing your back, letting you cool down.

After a while your tears dried up but you stayed in his arms, enjoying the feeling of your head resting against his chest. His heart beat like crazy; he'd announce the final words, that you were sure about.

"I fell out off love, too, y/n", he confirmed, "I'd like to make a promise, if that's alright with you?"

You only nodded, not finding your voice.

"If we're going to decide to start a relationship again, we'll not stress about what others think is the best for us, okay? We fought and fought, and still we lost", kissing the top of your head Martin continued," I'd like us to be at least civil, staying in contact — remember when you promised, you'd always be my friend first? Hold onto it, I can't lose you."

"I promise, skatten min."

[tkmedia]

These Arsenal fans notice ‘sad’ training moment for ex-loanee that appears to prove reporter’s claim that star is ‘disconnected’

Plenty of Arsenal fans have been left very upset after spotting a ‘sad’ moment for former loanee Martin Odegaard during Real Madrid training.During a shooting drill, Madrid players were in high spirits when everyone – including another returning loanee in Luka Jovic put the ball into the back of the net, Odegaard never received the same treatment.Whilst the likes of Jovic, Marcelo and Lucas Vazquez to name a few were cheered on before their chances and heralded if they scored, there was complete silence when Odegaard scored in his turn.Odegaard spent the second-half of last season on loan with Arsenal, impressing in his 20 appearances for the Gunners, but a permanent switch has never looked likely for different reasons.Supporters are now wishing that the club can re-sign the Norwegian playmaker after he appeared to be frozen out in Los Blancos training.Interestingly, this clip – which will be one from before the La Liga powerhouses lost their friendly to Rangers, has become a talking point just as El Larguero journalist Mario Torrejon shared that he believes Odegaard will leave the club, stressing that the ace looks ‘very disconnected’.See More: Arsenal consider signing of promising attacker available for just £1m May be nothing but looked weird. Here is a video of Madrid training, look at the cheers when the players shoot and compare it with when Ødegaard had a shot (total silence) pic.twitter.com/mSsu7oSLJK — Osman ? (@OsmanZtheGooner) July 25, 2021 Here is how some of the Arsenal faithful reacted to the sad moment:  Ok that’s a bit weird it literally went dead silent when he shot and it wasn’t like it was a dead shot either, come back to Arsenal Øde they’re not treating you right you saw the love the fans gave you when you came — afc_danzino (@0fficialCk) July 26, 2021 That is a bit strange — Jimmy AFC ?? (@jimmytozer) July 26, 2021 I think another loan is possible, maybe with an obligation to buy. — Amanze Kojak Nweke (@DaStreetScholar) July 25, 2021 This is so sad ? Arsenal should bring him back — J ? (@Jose_afc_x) July 25, 2021 thats acc kinda sad — Jacob ????? (@afcjacob2) July 25, 2021 He made a brother in 6 months. He hasn’t made many at Madrid & he’s been there for almost 6 years. I want him back so badly. People forget that how hard he would work to get stuff going. We need characters like that and idk y people rate maddison bc he far from that imo. pic.twitter.com/yu6ZhgneAh — Joel (@JoelJewell34) July 25, 2021 He’s going to come back isn’t he — ??? (@XavThe7th) July 25, 2021 I feel bad , come to arsenal and we will scream and sing your name for years — artatoes ? (@PodolskiFairies) July 25, 2021 It’s no secret that Odegaard is much more appreciated here at the Emirates. His return, in any capacity, will always be welcomed ?? #Odegaard #COYG — haas (@AFCxHas) July 26, 2021 More Stories / Latest News ??? Análisis | La derrota del Real Madrid en el amistoso frente al Rangers ??@mariotorrejon: “Creo que Odegaard se va a marchar del Real Madrid, lo he visto muy desconectado”https://t.co/TZK3EPstrx pic.twitter.com/rZm6gFYO1t — El Larguero (@ellarguero) July 25, 2021 The training clip is about as close as you can get to seeing what a player ‘disconnected’ from their club would be treated like, something that has offered some Gooners hope of a return for Odegaard.Odegaard did play 78 minutes of the defeat against Rangers, so Carlo Ancelotti certainly doesn’t seem to be ‘disconnected’ by the prospect of the attacking midfielder playing an important role for Madrid.The training furore that has sparked reaction from Arsenal fans certainly seems to be strange, but it remains to be seen whether Madrid are actively looking to sell the ace, and importantly if the Gunners are still keen on Odegaard. Read the full article

[viewfromthestandblog]

REPORT 18.03.21

Arsenal 0-1 Olympiacos

A second half strike from Youssef El- Arabi saw Olympiacos win at the Emirates for the second season in a row but wasn’t enough to see them qualify to the quarter finals of the Europa League losing 3-2 on aggregate over the two legs at the Emirates stadium on Thursday evening.

This result qualifies Arsenal into the last eight of the competition where their fate will be decided tomorrow where they will find out who awaits them in the quarter finals.

Mikel Arteta made 5 changes from the team that beat Tottenham on the weekend with Cedric, Thomas Partey, Bukayo Saka, Martin Ødegaard and Alexandre Lacazette all dropping out for Hector Bellerin, Dani Ceballos, Mohammed Elneny, Nicolas Pepe and returning Captain Pierre Emerick Aubameyang all returning for Arsenal whilst Olympiacos kept an unchanged side.

Arsenal started the game brighter and looked to play on the front foot feeding the ball into Dani Ceballos who played a sublime pass in behind the Olyampicos backline to Ivorian international Nicolas Pepe who took the ball through the goalkeeper’s legs but left himself too much to do from a tight angle that resulted into a corner for Arsenal after a block from ex Arsenal defender Sokratis who made his return to the Emirates Stadium after leaving the club in January.

Shortly after Olympiacos created an opportunity of their own and the best chance of the half after one direct pass from goalkeeper José sá that the Arsenal defence failed to deal with that set striker El- Arabi away racing away one on one with Arsenal goalkeeper Bernd Leno who provided a wonderful save with his legs to keep the score at 0-0.

Chances were few and far between inside the first half with the only other shot on target before the break coming from Arsenal academy graduate Emile Smith Rowe who picked up the ball from the left-hand side who cut the ball onto his right foot but failed to trouble Śa in goal.

After the break, Olympiacos started the second half with a different attitude and intent playing front foot football and committing bodies into the Arsenal penalty area which resulted in Greek international Kostas Fortounis dragged a shot wide of Arsenal’s left-hand post which should have come as a warning sign for Arsenal.

The bright start from Olympiacos continued in the second half after a great tackle from ex Sunderland midfielder Yann M’Villa won the ball back and left Arsenal out of shape in midfield. This led to a sweeping counter attack that resulted in dangerous striker El- Arabi inside the penalty area whose shot took a deflection off Brazilian defender Gabriel and left Arsenal goalkeeper Leno stranded with no chance and gave Olyampicos the first goal in the game coming in the 51stminute of the game.

Mikel Arteta and Arsenal reacted to Olympiacos taking the lead making two substitutions taking off Mohammed Elneny and Dani Ceballos for Martin Ødegaard and Thomas Partey and those changes got Arsenal on the front foot showing the right attitude.

The energetic Kieran Tierney played a wonderful cross that was pulled back to Nicolas Pepe who ran onto the ball and managed to get plenty of power on his shot but was blocked by teammate Ødegaard that resulted in a goal kick to the away side.

Olympiacos continued to take risks the longer the game went on after losing the first leg 3-1 in Athens and this led to vulnerability on the counter attack for the Gunners to exploit the longer the game continued.

Entering the final 10 minutes of the match, Arsenal midfielder Granit Xhaka became too strong for M’Villa in midfield and started a breakaway playing the ball to the influential substitute Ødegaard who sent pacey forward Aubameyang threw the heart of the Olyampicos backline running towards goal who couldn’t direct his chip on target that went wide of the right-hand post and behind for a Olyampicos goal kick.

Olyampicos defender Ba late on was sent off for a second yellow card after punching the ball away when frustration started to boil in for the Greek side.