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footywritingworks · 2 years ago

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Markings {Martin Ødegaard x fem!Reader}

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

Wordcount: 1,6k

Warnings: smut, Martin getting teased, mentions of blood

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

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

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

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

"Yes I will. You know I will. "

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You can't take it anymore?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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the-offside-rule · 11 months ago

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Martin Ødegaard (Arsenal FC) - Pinnekjøtt

Christmas [From The Vault]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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yourstrqly · 2 years ago

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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.

#martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard x reader #football x reader #football imagine #footballer x reader #footballer one shot #martin ødegaard smut #martin odegaard smut #football smut #— rina's football writing 🕊

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

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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

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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

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year ago

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To Have and to Heal (Part 13)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

**********

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Goodnight Attie, jeg elsker deg."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Papa?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Atla…"

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

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

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

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

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

"Atla, go to your room."

"Papa-"

"Now!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except…

Except.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year ago

Text

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

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

Word count: 2887

Masterlist

Wattpad

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

“You’re going to Manchester?”

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

“Sure”.

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

“Yeah, that’s it”.

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

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

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

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

“Let’s go to the match!”

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey!"

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

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

"Why?"

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

"I just…I need you here with me".

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

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

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

"Is there anything else you want to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Honey, I'm home!"

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

"Missed me?"

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

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

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

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

"Did you go shopping while in Manchester?"

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

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

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

"That's nice of him".

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, same".

But Martin kept looking in your direction and Erling noticed.

"Who's that?"

"My girlfriend".

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

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

"I better go. Good luck".

"Good luck to you too".

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ok".

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

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

"No, you were too busy".

"What does that even mean?"

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

"Are you mad at me?"

No, he was mad at himself.

"Martin…".

"We'll talk later".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't get it".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I guess", he sighed.

"What else?"

"Do you read the comments on your posts?"

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

"No, why?"

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

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

"He's in a relationship".

"So am I".

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

"Do you get comments about it?"

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

"You should have told me earlier".

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

"He won't".

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The (only) one I love 💕"

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

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kierantierney3 · 3 months ago

Text

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

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julianalvarez9 · 2 years ago

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part of the family / martin ødegaard

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

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

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

yourusername

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

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erlinghaaland i think i know who that is 🧐

yourusername do you know how to keep secrets?

yourusername

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yourusername missed my 5ft 10in baby

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user1 this is oddly specific

erlinghaaland i miss him too

yourusername you had him last week!! :(

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yourusername

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

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erlinghaaland looks like a tomato 🍅😂

yourusername don't be mean to him

user1 HARD LAUNCH ALERT

user2 erling gave it away in february 😂

user3 matching blue 🤭 ødegaard to city 🔜

yourusername he's red inside and out unfortunately

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

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

yourusername

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

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

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

user3 please marry him

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

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footywritingworks · 2 years ago

Text

Feels like Home {Martin Ødegaard x fem!Reader}

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

Wordcount: 900

Warnings: fluff, stress from work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love it when you wear my clothes."

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

"Did you cook this?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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the-offside-rule · 1 year ago

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Martin Ødegaard (Arsenal) - Isn't It Strange?

Requested: on wattpad

Prompt: Reader and Martin used to die but they broke up and now she is the bridesmaid of his bride. Really sad stuff plz

Warnings: really sad stuff ig (update while writing; a bitch cried; it is me: I am a bitch)

Y/n paced the hall, looking at the door every few seconds. What was taking him so long. His bride to be had sent Y/n to go check on Martin to see when he was leaving for the ceremony but yhe groomsmen insisted that she wait until he finishes getting ready. After what felt like a lifetime, the door opened and there stood Erling, towering over her with a smile on his face. "You sure you're not getting married to him?" Erling joked as she walked in. "Luckily for myself, no. Now where is-" She stopped and looked over to an add-on part of the room to see Martin stood fixing his jacket. It finally began to settle in for Y/n; Martin was getting married. The kid she had known for years was finally getting married. He looked back to her through the mirror and grinned.

"Y/n. Everything okay?" Martin asked, checking himself out in the mirror. "Yeah. I'm fine. Your bride just wants to know when you're leaving." Y/n said, walking towards him. "Soon. I just can't seen to centre this stupid tie." Martin replied, clearly frustrated. "Did your dad not teach you how to tie a tie?" She joked. "No, he did, I just don't do them myself anymore. My stylist does." Y/n chuckled and stood in front of him. "That's how you know you've made it. You get your own stylist." Martin smiled as Y/n reached to the tie and began fixing it herself. "I don't think my bride would appreciate my ex sorting out my tie and not my groomsmen." He said. Bow did they date? Yes, they did. From the age of thirteen until twenty. She remembers it so vividly.

Y/n and Martin lay in one another's arms as the TV played. Y/n took a sharp breath in and turned to Martin. So.ething had changed about him. Maybe it was the football, maybe it was something more personal, but something had changed and it had been a slow but noticeable change. For Martin, it was the exact same. Maybe it was the fact she matured more since she started university, but something changed. It was strange for the two of them to lie, embracing eachother, yet, the only thing they had in common was the urge to take a break from their relationship. Y/n was taken from her trance as Martin took the control and muted the TV, before he sat up and smiled gently at her. "Y/n, I think we should talk."

"In your defense, they can't tie a tie either. Two of them are wearing the clip on ties and the rest are all horrible." Y/n said. Martin's lips formed into a thin line as he looked over to his groomsmen in a separate room, laughing along with one another as they sipped at their prosecco. "She could understand." Martin smiled. Y/n hummed in response and got to work. It was quiet between them, too quiet for Martin's liking. He looked around, not wanting to look down at Y/n. His wife-to-be knew about their past, but both Martin and Y/n assured her, they remained friends because they had been friends before they dated and had remained friends after their breakup. At the time, it was a lie. Martin still liked Y/n.

She seemed to be just like her old self but she had been talking to a new guy around that time so to prove to himself, and moreso Y/n, that he moved on, he met his now bride. It went on to become the worst decision of his life because as he continued his relationship, Y/n ultimately decided to remain single for a reason he never knew. Their friendgroup would go out and Y/n would have men all around her and buying her drinks, yet she never picked one up.

Y/n talked to the new guy to disctract herself more than anything else. When Martin had told Y/n about this new girl he started dating, Y/n felt her heart break more than it already had.

"Remember when we were like six?" Martin asked, fixating on her focused expression. "We had a pretend wedding? That was fun. Remember?" He asked again. "Martin. I'm trying to fix your tie. Just hold still." She said harshly. Martin's smile vanished and he looked ahead. A silence fell upon them. Both sat thinking the same thing in that moment.

What is he doing?

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't- I shouldn't bring up us." Martin mumbled. "No, you shouldn't. Not while you're bride to be is currently adding the finishing touches to her dress." Y/n replied. Martin cleared his throat and sighed. "But-" Y/n paused. "I do remember." Martin looked down through hooded eyelids. "I remember you took your father's nicest coat from the hanger and I took my mother's new summer dress and pretty pink shoes." Y/n continued. "And I picked flowers from my mother's garden." Martin chuckled. "And since you picked flowers from your garden and so did I, we mixed them together." She looks up to meet his blue eyes. Her knees nearly gave out. He was breathtaking. It physically pained her that they just didn't work out. It wasnt the distance, it wasn't that there was no love, it just didn't work out. "We got in a lot of trouble over that wedding." Y/n said lowly. "Well, hopefully this wedding doesn't get us in as much trouble." Martin said. "It's not me you're marrying. You should be fine." Y/n wore a smile lined with hurt. Martin's smile slouched for a moment. "Well-" He took a deep breath in. "That is a slight change."

"Y/n? The bride is looking for you." One of the groomsmen said. Funnily enough, the pair didn't stop looking at eachother for a single moment. They just stared at eachother like it would be the last time they saw eachother. "I suppose I should go." Y/n mumbled. "Maybe." He replied. He moved forward and put his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into an embrace. Y/n hesitates, but wraps her arms around his torso and sighs, breathing in the cologne he had sprayed on the grey fabric of his suit. "You look beautiful by the way." Martin whispered. "And you look pretty." Y/n replied, closing her eyes as she savoured the last few moments of their embrace.

Martin let go regretfully and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'll let you head back now." He said. Y/n nodded and smiled gently. "Good luck, Martin." She said. Y/n reached up and caressed his face. "Don't let her go. No matter what. She's a good girl." He chuckled and looked to the ground. "I already let go of one good girl, how stupid must I be to do it again?" There went the heartstrings bring played like an old harp. "I'll see you later, yeah?" Martin nodded and watched as Y/n turned and left as quick as she came.

He looked back to the mirror and examined his perfect tie. He began thinking of all the good times he shared with Y/n. It was strange. They started as strangers in a classroom, then friends, then lovers and now just friends. That last part killed him. Because if there were other timelines, or if he could change this current timelines, he'd hoped that he would have met her at the altar that day and not the woman he was actually marrying.

#football #football imagines #martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard x y/n #martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard oneshot #martin ødegaard #arsenal imagines

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yourstrqly · 1 year ago

Text

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."

#football imagine #football x reader #football blurb #footballer one shot #martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard x reader #Martin ødegaard blurb #martin odegaard fic #arsenal imagine

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reisspieces · 1 year ago

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#did anyone post this #imagine going to the cafe at the stadium and he’s there wtf I’m gonna eat him #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #Arsenal #Arsenal fc #Barbie girl!!!#safekeeping

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

Note

Hii 😊

i’m so glad you’re taking requests, your martin fics are my favs !!!! i feel this should have been out there from before: aftercare with martin. Where he is so gentle and takes the best care of you after you have sex..

Thank you 🤍

awww thank you my love <3 and i do agree with you, someone should've done this earlier THEREFORE may i present you...

aftercare

sex with martin is a guaranteed unparalleled time, but what happens after is even more wonderful…

martin odegaard x you

wc: 0.7k

tw: only filthy beginning and some suggestive words here and there, no biggie (?)

note: my brain's still fried from work so... request is still open & you can drop them here

“you look so good riding me like this, min kjæreste,”

and martin didn’t even have an ounce of lie in his words.

cowgirl was always his most favourite sex position because he could see your face and body in full coverage, not hidden beneath his body, as you rode him good. he could never get bored of taking in your facial features contorted in pleasures while your chest arched, giving him the most beautiful pair of boobs on display, and your hips went rotating in his lap, providing enough friction to drive you both to the edge.

“martin,” you gasped as your hands went from supporting your weight on his knees to reaching his shoulders, and it was pretty much his sign that your legs were giving up. “please… I’m so close.”

the boyfriend didn’t need another word before holding you by the waist, lifting you up and down. the slapping sound was so loud it drove you wild because you were this close yet so far, so you reached down your clit with a hand. the moment the pad of your middle finger caressed your bud—it felt so liberating as you crashed down on a free fall, but you knew you would always be safe because your boyfriend would always catch you.

and catch you, he did. he gathered you in his arms as you went pulsating from head to toe from your orgasm, despite the fact he was also reaching his own ends. you didn’t need to know more, other than the fact that you could feel his cum dripping down against your inner thighs, but it always amazed you how he would always put your well-being first even in this condition.

he gently rocked you back and forth, while stroking you from the top of your head down to the ends of your hair, until he could feel the vibrations stopped coming from you. you let out a huge sigh on the crook of his neck, where you took shelter while you were hugging him tight, and that would be his sign to let you go little by little.

“hi, vennen,” he whispered as you tried to meet his eyes, no matter how much the sleepiness starting to kick in. “you did absolutely amazing.”

while you knew he was bluffing, solely for the reason you’d never lasted long enough for your liking, you didn’t complain. the way he tucked your hair to the back of your ears ever so softly soothed your displeasure towards your stamina, so you smiled at him. “hello to you, too, my love. can we not move because I’m so tired?”

martin would always say yes to this, at least while you were awake. but as soon as sleep took over your body and soul, he lifted you up and around so you could lie back on the bed, not wanting you to wake up with an ached body and bad posture. it was only then he pulled himself out of you.

in all honesty, martin hated the sensation. he hated losing you; he loved being around you, which included but not limited to being inside of you. but he hated more to sleep before he could clean up himself, so he dragged his own feet to the bathroom to clean himself before he brought a basket full of aftercare products—something he had prepared for since a long time ago because he knew you’d pass out soon after your orgasm.

at this point of your relationship, martin had already had a routine of aftercare sequence. he started by cleaning the dirty streak of his cum in between your thighs, before moving to rub your favourite coconut oil on spots you’d mentioned previously would turn sore the next day. if you were wearing your hair tied that day, he’d pluck off the hairband and comb the strands until the knots were gone.

of course you’d squirm lightly while he was cleaning you up, but after everything was said and done, martin would kiss the crown of your head, the middle space between your eyebrows, and your lips. and despite knowing you couldn’t hear him, the Norwegian young captain would whisper good night, min kjæreste against your lips before sleep discovered him too.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

*min kjæreste means "my dearest" in norwegian

*vennen means "love" in norwegian

^^pls cmiiw if i get this wrong

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes requests #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard drabbles #martin odegaard imagines #martin odegaard smut #martin odegaard drabble #martin odegaard blurbs #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fics #footie fic #footie fics #martin odegaard x you #footballer x you

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yellowkitkieran · 1 year ago

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To Have and to Heal (Part 15)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.1k

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

Could we talk?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*********

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

Why did you agree to this again?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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