#martin odegaard fanfic

[yellowkitkieran]

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. 

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (pt.1)

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

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

word count: 3.7k

tw: mentions of cheating (but not the MCs)

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

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

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

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

No words exchanged, as usual.

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

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

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

＊✿❀○❀✿���＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

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

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

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

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

Well, except him, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

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

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

1) Eve rarely texts people about work,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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“You’re resigning?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello? Earth to Eve?”

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

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

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

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

“That’d be nice, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I heard you’re resigning.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Morning, Eve.”

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

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

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

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

“Alright, thanks,” and off he went.

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

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

“Why are you smiling to yourself?”

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

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

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

“And what is the standard?”

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

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

“Exactly.”

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

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

“Verified account on Instagram.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re looking at him.”

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

“Then we’ll make them believe.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Martin!”

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

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

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

“Have my packages arrived?”

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

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

“Alright, I’ll meet you downstairs.”

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

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

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

“You’re panicking.”

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

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

“What?”

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

“What does, then?”

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

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

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

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

“Why are you not saying anything?”

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

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

“Why?”

“I heard he’s going to come.”

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

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

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

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

“Look, Eve,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fallinforerling]

ahhh im so glad you write for ø! i really like your imagines and your way to write. so thank you!! I was thinking about an imagine where Martin asks reader to go to training with him, because he needs the presence of her since he is a little lost, and his team mates joke about her being his lucky charm.

captain's lucky charm - martin ødegaard

ೃ⁀➷ martin’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ martin’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

While in the car, you gave Martin a quick glance, incapable of holding the tiny grin that escaped your lips when you noticed he looked in your direction at the same time. His hand was firmly placed on top of yours, like he was scared of letting you go and giving you the chance to run away from your destiny. You weren’t, but you knew he felt like he was forcing you to go. Your heart felt heavy on your chest, but it was full of love for the man driving next to you.

Looking away, you thought about how strange the day started.

“Babe?” 

A voice woke you up from your sleep so suddenly that you jumped on the spot, half-kicking the covers while still immersed in the post-sleepness state you were in just seconds ago. Your blurry vision focused on a face next to you, making you almost scream if it weren't for the fact that you recognized them as your boyfriend. 

“Martin! My god, you almost killed me!” You said after a moment, placing a hand against your chest, where your heart was compulsively beating. “Did something happen?” 

“No, no… Uh, sorry for waking you up. I was just wondering if...” He paused, touching your upper arm before massaging it, just the way he always did when he wanted something from you. 

“Yeah?” Your face was half buried on the pillow, making it hard to focus on his face. You were still so sleepy. 

“Can you come with me today? Please?” His voice was so low that you thought you had heard him wrong. When you didnʼt reply right away, he cleared his throat. “You donʼt have to, I just really thought it would be… nice.” 

When you sensed the sudden change in his tone, you opened your eyes again and took his hand, which was still on your arm. You smiled a bit when he gave you the puppy eyes you loved so much while obviously waiting for an answer. Something was up. 

“Of course I want to go.” You caressed his hand, playing with his fingers while half-smiling at him. “Can I ask why you want me to go?” It was so out of character for him to ask you something like that. He was a private person, even around his teammates. Plus, it was rare for players to have company during their training sessions.

Never, in all the years of relationship, has he ever asked you to accompany him without an actual reason. 

“Well…” His eyes wandered around the room, like they were escaping yours. “You know how I’ve been struggling a bit to let myself go around the guys?” You nodded, knowing how hard it was for him to let go of his shyness out of the pitch. He was the best captain youʼd ever seen, but in reality, he was a person who loved his personal space and struggled to open up. “It’s just that… I really want to stop feeling like I’m just a bargain player thatʼll be let go next season and I won’t be missed.” You opened your mouth to refute his words, but he stopped you. “I know I’m not, but I can’t help how my brain works sometimes, so… I felt like having you with me could help.” He kissed your hand, smiling a bit. “You know you bring me peace.” 

Your heart was about to stop beating from how much love you suddenly felt. Martin always said sweet things like this, and even two years into your relationship, you never knew how to get used to it. Besides, you could never say no to him. 

“Then let’s get ready, or we’ll be late.” You replied, biting your lip when he jumped to his feet and almost dragged you into the bathroom. 

So there you were, walking down the hallways of the training center, getting surprised looks from every single person that you encountered while heading to the pitch. As you thought, it wasn’t common for the players' partners to just hang out with them while training. They needed to be focused on the instructions, and overall, work. This was Martinʼs workplace. You felt like you were on those “bring your partner to work” type of days, which felt ridiculous. But you've got your reasons, and you’ll be standing by them for the rest of the day if your presence helped Martin feel better. 

“So, where do I sit while you do your thing?” You were about to enter the actual training pitch; you could already hear some shouts and laughter from the distance. 

“We have a tiny row of seats you can use; they’re the ones we use for the DT and the staff, but itʼs rare when they use them.” His free hand made its way through his hair, making it all fluffy and tousled. You resisted the urge to touch it. “If you ever feel uncomfortable, just know you can leave, okay?” 

“I’m not leaving.” You stopped for a moment, giving him a tiny peck. The doors were just a few feet away from you, so you let go of his hand. “I’ll be on the seats if you need me. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

You watched him take off to the pitch, his back as stiff as it gets. You knew he was feeling extra nervous, despite his denials while in the car. You’d met some of his new teammates, but since you both were private individuals, it was actually the first time for the majority of his colleagues to actually meet you. Hell, maybe it was the first time for a lot of them to hear that Martin had a girlfriend at all.

Oh well. 

You looked for your phone, getting ready to take some cute photos for your private folder. Not even he knew about your collection of candid photos. The best part about this day was that you were going to have a feast and no one would notice.

Once you were outside, the sun hit your eyes, making you squint a bit while you walked to the few seats near the right side of the pitch. You saw a bunch of guys from the team already warming up, chatting, and joking. You instantly spotted Martin, who was talking to Bukayo (the only guy who has been to your house and whom you properly knew at all). Martin gave you a smile just as you were sitting down, making Bukayo look in your direction. Once he recognized you, he smiled as well, waving like a little kid that just saw a friend. You giggled, returning the wave before sitting. 

Close to ten guys that were near the seats shot you looks full of curiosity, like they were trying to guess if you were from the press, a streaming site, or just someone visiting. 

You gave them a weird half-smile that was only reserved for awkward interactions with strangers on the street. 

It went wonderfully. 

─── ⋆⋅☆ ⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You spent around twenty minutes taking photo after photo of Martin in various states, from relaxed to red-faced due to the physical activities he was doing. Training seemed very hard, but you enjoyed it… Well, you just enjoyed seeing it. 

Okay, your boyfriend looked hot while doing almost anything. Nobody can blame you for liking the view. 

Now you were smiling at your phone, carefully choosing the best photos (which were most of them) to put in your folder, when a sudden shadow lurked over you. The absence of sunlight caught you by surprise. 

“Hello, pretty.” You giggled, blocking your phone, putting it against your chest while looking up. Martin stared at you from above with a smirk, like he knew you were hiding something. “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” You smiled when he raised an eyebrow at you. Your hands went directly to the little container full of cold water. “Water?” 

He obviously noticed your efforts to distract him from your phone, but he only gave you a slight head movement before taking the bottle from you. He sat, letting a loud groan escape his mouth. 

“Tired?” You asked in a playful tone, knowing that he was done with life by this point. 

He took a deep breath, not looking at you for a long moment before letting his head rest on your knee. 

“I know I should play it cool and pretend I’m not even tired, but I feel like I’m about to pass out.” You laugh, stroking his (sweaty) hair with a big smile. “Keep doing that, and I’ll probably fall asleep.” 

“Hey! Look who’s here!” Bukayo’s voice made it impossible for Martin to actually fall asleep anytime soon. You watched him jog towards you, wearing his usual smile. “Captain’s lucky charm, nice to see you again!” 

“Hi, Bukayo.” You said, returning the smile. “Lucky charm? I wasn’t aware of that title.”

“Can you guys stop it already?” Martin said, half laughing and half groaning. 

“Stop what?” You asked, enjoying how his cheeks were turning slightly red. 

“Oh, we’ve been joking around with that. You’re definitely his lucky charm.” Bukayo nudged his arm. “We’ve never seen this guy so happy while training in a long time. And hey, you scored like five goals today, that’s impressive.” 

“I guess so…” Was the only thing that he got out of your boyfriend, who seemed to be about to pass out, but this time from embarrassment. 

“Well, I’ll leave you guys alone. I’m out to the showers. See you around!” 

“Bye!” You looked at Martin again, biting your lip when he avoided your gaze. “I’m going to take the risk to say that it worked, huh?” 

Before he could even reply, a group of his teammates walked by, waving at both of you with smiles. You heard in the distance how one of them shouted “Bring her tomorrow!” at Martin before leaving, making you laugh even more. 

“Would you mind coming tomorrow as well?” Your boyfriend asked after a few minutes, and you couldn’t help but hug him. 

You loved him so much.

[football-and-fanfics]

Gym - Martin Odegaard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Add me to the tags list General masterlist | Martin masterlist

[nicolesainz]

Secret love song (MØ 8)

Martin Ødegaard x f!reader

Warnings: fluff to its core

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

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

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

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

“So it’s that apparent, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Flashback, to Valentines Day, a few months ago…

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

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

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

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

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

It was Aaron.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you

End of flashback

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kai-habvertzburg29]

"Whatever makes him happy on a Saturday Night"

Summary: It’s Saturday night, and Martin’s going out on the town with the boys.

Warnings: Alcohol, swearing, assault

Notes:

An AU fic where all the players live normal lives. Inspired by ‘Saturday Night’ by Suede, and various nights out I’ve had recently.

Some other songs to go with this fic:

Arcade Fire - No Cars Go

Basement - Ellipses

Charli XCX - Detonate

The Goon Sax - Strange Light

Crosspost from AO3

There’s a crackle from the intercom speaker, and the light next to the camera comes on. “Yes Barbie! I’m buzzing you in now.” Martin tries to smile off the embarrassment. Declan always greets him with his nickname. The door releases with a zap, and the Norwegian heads into the building.

Up in the flat, Declan has the tunes on. “What’s good Deccers?” smiles the Norwegian. Martin gives him a firm hug with his free hand, a four pack of beers in his other. It’s the usual list of compliments between them as they walk through to the lounge - “Nice outfit, lad”, “Love that aftershave, lad”, “Your hair’s looking great, lad”. 

“Kai’s just in his room” says Declan. A muffled “Hallo” comes from one of the closed doors. Martin calls back and perches himself on the edge of the sofa. He’s been here plenty of times before, but he waits to let himself get comfortable. Once Declan is back from the fridge with a can for himself, Martin decides he can open one of his.

 The German has finally sorted his outfit, and pres feel like they’re properly underway. It’s a mix of dancey and guitary cuts coming from the speakers next to the telly. The lounge is warmly lit, scented by a candle on a nearby shelf. Almost certainly one of Kai’s touches; Dec has never quite understood the concept. The lights of the city can be seen through the window. 

“Are we just gonna meet you there then?” Declan’s got Mason on speakerphone on the table in front of them.

“Yeah man, it’ll probably be easier, I’m not fucking with an Uber over to yours”. Mase is cool as ever. He’ll go with the flow on anything.

“Sweet, alright fella, we’ll find you at the pub”.

Declan likes being the one organising things. It helps him feel more settled to be the one who knows where everyone is gonna be when. On paper, Martin and Kai are the two shyer ones of the group, even if they tend to find their confidence as the night goes on. 

“So he’s with the girls then?” Kai thumbs around his bottle.

“Of course he is” joshes Declan. “Alessia still isn’t gonna get with him tonight”.

Martin chuckles. They’ve all been hanging out for a couple of years now, brought together through friends of friends and exes of exes. It’s not that any of them couldn’t date each other, but it does make it less complicated if the flirting doesn’t lead to anything more.

The plan for tonight: pub, maybe another pub, probably a club, chips and home. Martin always loves the buzz of Saturday night. In his head, he remarks on the confidence he has now, compared to his lack of it when he was a teen. These boys make him feel at home. They catch up on their weeks and whatever other bollocks has happened at their respective jobs, making their way through their beers.

Kai asks if the jumper he’s thinking of wearing works. 

“ ‘Course it does man, you look great.” Declan is always everyone’s hype man, first and foremost.

“Yeah, ah…well,...yeah” Kai shrugs and fumbles through a load of words. He doesn’t really know why he brought that up. He just needed to address it somehow. 

“Trust us, man. Anyway, it’s your go” Martin points to Kai’s Uno hand. The cards are sticky and worn from years of use. Declan had them at uni. At least that was the first time Martin saw them.

Kai places down a red plus two. He doesn’t have a poker face so much as a smug game-playing face, lips pursed. 

“Fuck you” mutters Martin, shuffling through his options. A green plus two has been in his hand for a while. Looks like Declan is getting the short end of it.

“You bastard” concedes Declan as he shoots a sharp look over to the Norwegian. That smile he has, charming and scheming, always electrifies Martin. It’s gonna be a good night when Declan’s feeling like this. The Brit reaches to pick up from the pile and have another swig of his beer. 

They’re out in the night air soon enough, walking to the bus stop. Mizzly February rain is quickly dampening Martin’s hair, and he battles the biting wind with gritted teeth. The beers are hitting though, and that’s got Kai in a chatty mood. It’s easy to tell, as his volume rises in line with how much he’s drunk.

They’ve timed it well, and they’re on the night bus in a matter of minutes. Martin checks his phone – the group chat has been pinging off as everyone’s announced that they’re on the way. He’ll save checking it for the morning. A swig of his road beer, trying to keep it concealed from the driver. What do they mind anyway? There’s plenty of other people drinking. 

Their conversations continue as they step off. “I just always found it a really boring record. Never got into it”. The line-up for a festival they’ve been thinking of going to has just dropped, and the headline is a band that Martin’s not that fond of.

“I’d like to go, I just dunno if I can take the camping ‘n shit”. Kai’s never been one for being too far from creature comforts, despite being very outdoorsy.

“It does get a bit rough to be fair” adds Declan. “I remember, like, in my first year I went, someone near us was sick in their tent on the Saturday, and they just abandoned and didn’t clear it up”. Kai and Martin groan at the thought. “And it was so hot so it stunk”.

“See, exactly” says Kai. He tries to adjust his sodden hair, to little effect. His face has his trademark grimace, as ever when it's cold and raining.

The city centre is throbbing with people and noise. Declan’s got his hood up as he leads the way. God Kai is so tall, thinks Martin, taking in how his thick fleece jacket conceals how skinny actually he is. Through the pedestrianised streets they journey, laughing at various things they see and avoiding the dickheads swaggering about the place. 

They’re soon at The Corporation Vaults, one of the city’s older establishments, on what must be the 20th refurbishment in its lifetime. Inside, it's darkly lit and busy, a pulsing mix of alternative and indie coming over the speakers. Mason and the girls have managed to find a table near the back. Everyone gets up for hugs and greetings – Mase first, followed by Lauren, Leah and Alessia. 

“I’m coming up to get a drink with you” points Alessia, always game for a night of pints. “Look at you king!” she exclaims, pointing out Martin’s fresh trouser and trainer combo. 

“Ah, they’re just something I saw on Vinted and I liked” Martin blushes. He’s had to force himself to accept compliments without getting embarrassed. Alessia is always buzzed to see the Norwegian.

“I’ll get these” he insists as the bartender brings the card reader over. He owes her for last time anyway, and he fancies making Declan and Kai buy his next few drinks. It’s Jupels for him and Alessia, some random Weissbier for Kai, and a Guinness for Declan. 

Declan takes two or three glugs of the black liquid and places the glass on the bar. “Ah, fuck!” He’s missed winning the Guinness game by barely a few millimetres. The line is just above the bottom of the harp. Mason harangs him for his failings. 

Back at the table, everyone’s catching up. Mase and Lauren are in some extended conversation – maybe he’s bagged off the idea of getting with Alessia for once? The night is still young though. 

More pints first. And as they pass, discussions about going somewhere else come up. “Mmm, nah, I dunno” says Leah. “The queue for Glassworks was big when we walked past, I can’t be arsed”. Her argument convinces the table. Leah, Lauren and Declan head up for another round.

Martin’s been left on his own, but that’s okay. He looks over to Kai, sitting in the corner talking to Mason whilst he fiddles with the sleeves of his jumper. He hopes he’s feeling comfortable, sometimes his mood can dip quickly in noisy places like this. The Norwegian slides down to join the conversation.

Mason clocks his arrival immediately. “Right, I need your view, Barbs…would you do the cinema for a first date?”

“What?” replies Martin in bemusement.

Kai leans over to explain the situation. “He’s got into a whole thing ‘cause this girl on his Tinder ghosted him after he suggested it for a date”.

“Nah, I suggested it ‘cause she had films as one of her interests” retorts Mason.

“Yes but like…why would you take her there on a first date? Like…you want to get to know her right?” Mason’s stubbornness has got under Kai’s skin.

“But then why would you ghost someone for that?” says Mase.

“I, yeah…I dunno”. Martin isn’t gonna be able to add anything to this. He grins politely.

“That’s not the point though is it! How are you going to speak to her in the cinema?” By this point, Kai’s stopped fiddling with his jumper and is waving his hands around in annoyance.

“I dunno, I just thought it was a good idea!” fires back Mase, in defeat. The back and forth goes on for some time.

Declan looks up from his phone, having just been intently typing out something. “Gang, Jarrod and B are gonna find us in Kongs” he announces. The table cheers. Another policy win for President Dec. Martin catches his gaze from down the table, that same charming smile meeting his own childlike one. Jarrod and Bukayo will be great company. Calls for everyone to neck their pints are met with agreement, and the table heads off to Kongs.

It’s a bawdy affair on the streets, the rain still coming down but hardly putting anyone off. They’re definitely in the realm of tipsy now, and everything they pass becomes increasingly funny. A box of chips abandoned on a bin with a full cup of Maccies coke. Some girls struggling down a cobbled street in heels and less-than-adequate coats. A bar flashing with crappy disco lights blaring out the YMCA. “I’d rather die” jokes Kai, somewhere behind.

Martin’s hooked arms with Alessia. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just good friendship. They chat about their dating lives, some shit from her ex that’s been on her mind lately, and more of Martin’s Vinted purchases. 

Lauren has got chatting to some passer-by. The group turn around to pick up the straggler. “Lauren, fucking hell, we are going!” pleads Leah, dragging her away.

“He was cute though!” she wails.

“He’s just another white guy, oh my days!” Leah is having none of it.

“We could have got them to come with us!”

“Shut up” Leah pushes her the other way down the street.

Not before there are more stragglers, however. Declan and Mason are giggling like school kids, getting left behind after Mase says something that makes Dec almost paralytic with laughter. 

“Come on you pricks!” shouts Kai. He’s found his confidence. “I wanna get out of the rain”. The man looks disgruntled.

They’re in the queue for Kongs at last. It’s a basement bar on one of the main streets with a reliable dancefloor and good smoking area. Everyone usually gets along with the music, and there’s Guinness for Declan. IDs checked, it’s not long before they’re in.

Jarrod and Bukayo are by the bar when they arrive. A chorus of “Wahhyyys!” from the lads and “Ahhhs!” from the girls. They’ve all made it to their final destination. Another round of pints, though Mase is feeling exotic and has gone for a GnT. 

The group pile their jackets on a nearby table, getting caught in all manner of conversations. Martin catches Kai’s reptilian smile as he chats to Bukayo, laughing about something as they vaguely bop along to the music. It’s loud in here, but not too much that you feel deafened. People are moving all about the place, and the mood feels good.

Martin finds Jarrod and decides to stick with him for a bit. Both of them being on the quieter side always makes for reliable company once everyone starts getting a bit silly. Another runthrough of catching up and work nonsense and what’s happened on the night already. Jarrod and Bukayo were at a gig down the road. 

“Good set?” asks Martin.

“Yeah, well good” replies Jarrod. “I didn’t follow B into the mosh pit though” he laughs.

“ ‘Course not. I’ve heard they’re crazy on his tours?”

“Mad, honestly”. Martin likes how Jarod is always awed by live music, and the pedestal he puts it on in his head.

Declan’s trying to get their attention, pointing to the dance floor and giving a little shimmy. The time has come. Gathered up from the bar, the group find their way over to the music and push through the crowd. It’s well past midnight now and the place is thrumming. The DJ’s been on the right wavelength so far with a mix of House and 2-Step. 

Martin lets himself find the rhythm and is soon grooving. He’s never been the best dancer, but it’s a busy dancefloor, and no one’s judging if he can’t throw it down. He closes his eyes and lets the alcohol carry him away.

“Mate the vibes!!” Mase keeps shouting out, his face scrunched up in joy. Kai is trying to get into it but isn’t quite feeling it yet. Lauren comes over and forces some life out of him by grabbing his hands. He gives in and belatedly shakes his hips a bit. Bukayo is throwing finger guns all over, always cool as shit on nights like this. Martin wishes he had the finesse he does, especially when it’s a Garage classic being played. Leah is insistent on getting photos, and keeps trying to get everyone to pose for a selfie. Someones always been caught by something else. “Alessia!” she commands, dragging the poor girl back into frame. She was only chatting to some of the people next to them.

Piss time. Martin tells the group and Kai shouts that he’s coming with him. The gents at Kongs aren’t exactly world-class, and the ceiling is lower here for some reason. Kai suddenly looks even taller than usual. 

“You not feeling it yet?” asks Martin.

“Nah, I dunno, I’ve not liked the music yet” replies Kai.

Another drink will help. But first, they have to battle the slurry of men weaving in and out of the cubicles and urinals and sinks. It’s a bit of a fight to get over to the taps, and the soap dispenser has been ripped off the wall. Martin checks his hair. “Go on pretty boy!” someone shouts from behind, catching him in the mirror – some twat with a Louis Vuitton t-shirt. Martin smiles awkwardly and ducks for the door.

Kai is waiting, thankfully. “Pricks in there” says Martin.

“Yeah, fuckers” replies Kai. 

Back to the dancefloor via the bar. It was Kai’s round anyway. Leah and Declan are dancing close. They’re putting their hands on each other, but not so much that it might cross a boundary. There’s always been chemistry between them, but whether they’d actually sleep with each other is another question. They both look gorgeous though, Dec’s chain glinting from under his t-shirt and Leah in her favourite cream trousers.

Alessia and Lauren have the attention of two guys dancing next to the group. Mason is looking a little defensive as Alessia dances near one of them. Bukayo tries to keep his energy up by getting him to sing along to whatever’s playing. It keeps him distracted at least. 

Jarrod suddenly reappears looking concerned. “I can’t find my jacket”.

“Fuck” shouts Kai. “It’s not in the pile?”

“Nah, nah, I’ve looked there”. The obvious question, but it’s always courteous. “I’m gonna check at the bar if it’s been handed in”.

“I’ll come with” says Kai. The dancefloor isn’t agreeing with him tonight. He grabs Martin on the shoulder for a second. “I don’t trust those fuckers behind Alessia and Lauren, keep an eye on them”.

Martin nods. He doesn’t trust them either. The songs are all starting to feel a bit intense. He dances over to the girls to see if they’re doing good, trying to intonate a vibe check with Lauren without saying anything. 

She shrugs. He decides they ought to swap places.

That doesn’t make the guys happy. One of them tries to slyly follow Lauren over without making it look obvious. Martin sarcastically moves over to try and block him. 

“The fuck?” the guy mutters, but the Norwegian pretends he doesn’t hear. 

The guy doesn’t leave, however, sliding his hands down Lauren’s body.

“Do you wanna fuck off?” she swings round, her bag flailing. 

The guy plays innocent. Martin doesn’t know what to do, trying to ward this shitbag off with bad vibes. But he looks over to Alessia to see her trying to stop the other guy from kissing her. 

“Mate!” he shouts, unsure if she should try and pull him away. Alessia is being polite and nudging his face out of the way of her lips. 

“My man, she doesn’t want you” interjects Bukayo. He’s got the confidence to push him away.

“Mate, who the fuck are you?” gruffs the other guy.

“Doesn’t matter, she isn’t into you” shoves back B.

“Whatever.” What a prick, thinks Martin. And both of these twats are still hanging around.

Leah comes ploughing through, having seen the situation. “Hey everyone!” she says mockingly, loud enough for the guys to hear. She pulls Lauren and Alessia over to her.

Alessia says something to the girls, and Leah indicates to get off the dancefloor. The boys follow suit. They end up standing by some tables close to the bar. Martin senses the night slipping away. There are people spilling over from the dancefloor near them and everything is feeling too crowded. Declan isn’t looking happy, unsure what to say. 

Jarrod and Kai are back. “You’re kidding!” says Mase. Jaz’s face says it all; there’s been no luck with the jacket. 

“I’m fucked off, I’ve had that jacket for ages” rants Jaz. Dec goes over to try and comfort him.

Leah and Alessia have gone to the loos. Bukayo is sat on one of the stools, energy sapped. 

“You thinking of heading?” asks Martin. It may as well be ‘I’m leaving’.

“Mmmm, I think so”. B shakes his head as he fiddles with the remains of his vodka coke. 

Kai suddenly launches into a rage. “Mate, get the fuck away. You’re pathetic.” That same guy from earlier has tried to sneak through to the crowd to dance with Lauren again.

“Eugh, you’re so fucking gross”. Lauren shoves him away and gets behind the boys. 

Kai’s really having a go at them, putting his fingers in their face and slipping into German every other sentence. It’s rare that Martin’s seen him this angry, practically spitting out his words. Mase comes over to pull him back. “Just shove off, alright?” he placates.

The guy swears at them and goes back to his mates. Martin watches him as he goes and sees the same dickhead from the gents with his stupid Louis Vutton t-shirt in the group. He hates that he didn’t feel like he could do more.

The girls are back from the loos, and Leah is practically making for the door already. “Come on gang” says Declan, weaker than his earlier announcements. They get their things and make their way up the stairs.

Out on the street, they try to arrange who’s getting in who’s taxi. Chips are off the table, sadly. No one’s feeling up for going down to the takeaways, and the alcohol has all got a bit much. Dec has Leah in his arms, trying to give her some comfort. Those dickheads really ruined everyone’s nights. Mase, Kai and B are still muttering about them, whilst Jaz keeps his hands in his pockets, now jacket-less, very much still pissed off. Martin’s having no luck with Uber, so he goes to find a cashpoint to flag down a cab instead. 

“Right, me, Lauren and Alessia are gonna get in this one” says Mase, having seen his car arriving. At least everyone tries to remember the better parts of the night as they’re saying their goodbyes. Plans for later in the week and next weekend get half-mentioned.

“Love you Martin, see you soon”. Alessia gives the Norwegian an enveloping hug courtesy of her puffer jacket. 

“What a load of shit eh” he remarks.

“Fuck them. See you soon”.

“Text us when you’re back” waves Declan, shouting down the street. “Will do” comes back from Alessia.

“I’m just gonna walk” says Bukayo.

“No, you’re not” says Leah, launching up from Declan. “We’re gonna find a six seater”. She takes charge of the taxi search.

“Nah, it’s okay”.

“No” commands Leah. B backs down. “Look, there’s one”. She heads over to ask the driver how much. The boys vaguely wander in her direction. She waves her hand and indicates for them to come over.

No one says much on the ride home. Martin aimlessly looks out of the window, the crowds gradually thinning out, passing the late night shops and unlit offices. It’s well past 3am by now and he’s been exhausted by it all. 

Hugs and handholding follow everyone as they leave – Bukayo first, then Leah. “Text me when you’re back" each of them ask as they get out.

Eventually, they’re at Declan and Kai’s stop.  

“Do you guys wanna come up?” Dec asks Jarrod and Martin.

“Ah, I think I’ll skip” says Jarrod, cosied by the warmth of the taxi.

“No worries man, get to bed” says Dec as he fist bumps him. “Martin?”

“Yeah, go on, I’ll come up”. Martin’s glad Declan asked. He’s feeling off and doesn’t fancy going back to his flat just yet. “See you soon Jaz.”

Up in the flat, Kai is haphazardly making some toast. He’s calmed down a bit, but is still really rather tipsy. Plates and cupboards clang as he makes his food. Declan’s thumbing through his records, trying to find something chill to soundtrack the end of the night. Martin is slumped on the sofa, watching him work through his collection.

“I can’t stand those sorts of people. Why do we go out?” Martin says to the room.

“I always say I’m done with clubbing” muffles Kai, mouth full of toast, “and then I never say no”.

Martin sniggers. “You were right about those guys though”.

“Yeah”. It’s only really a consolation from Kai.

Declan’s whacks on an old Bowie record, volume low, and wraps his legs up on his armchair. 

“You and Leah good?” asks Kai, joining them.

“Yeah, we’re good. She was just fucked off about it all.” Dec runs his hand through his hair. He turns to the Norwegian. “Are you okay Martin?” he asks, more sternly.

It’s the question he wanted someone to ask. “I’m…eh, I dunno. I wish I could have done more when it was happening.”

“Yeah man…don’t knock yourself though” reassures Declan. “You never know how they’re gonna react.”

“Exactly” muffles Kai, still speaking with his mouth full. “I’ve seen people get punched for it.”

“I think I’m also just a bit…” continues Martin, finding his words, “...like, I’ve been waiting for this all week, and then that happens, and then Jarrod gets his coat nicked, and…” He trails off.

This might not have been the laidback afters that Declan had in mind. But that’s not important to him. They all end up talking through how the night has left them feeling, and perhaps more pertinently, how they’re all feeling in general. The kind of conversations that need it to be at least 4am to really work. 

The record comes to the end. Kai may be tired, but he never looks it. Always quite spritely with his movements, despite how reserved he usually is. “I’m going off to bed lads, night night” he says, waving as he walks out. 

“Night” the other two say back. Martin goes to gather his things and head off too. Declan follows him towards the door.

“Do you wanna stay here man? You look knackered” says Dec. Observant as ever. Martin looks bedraggled.

“Ah, I dunno if I wanna sleep on the sofa” mumbles Martin.

“Nah nah, come sleep in my bed.” Declan points to his room. “We can top and tail.”

“Are you sure?” Martin’s only asking out of politeness.

“Mate of course. I don’t really want you walking home like that.”

Dec chucks him some pyjamas whilst Martin piles his belongings in the corner. “Cheers lad” he says as he buttons off his shirt. 

They’ve seen each other like this plenty of times before. The platonic intimacy of their friendship was something that got established early on. An unspoken care for each other in being able to be this open. Very rarely did they ever say anything about it, precisely because nothing needed to be said about it. Of course Declan was the kind of person who’d offer this sort of friendship. Of course Martin was the sort of person who would reciprocate.

The gentle spray of rain fimbles at the window. Dec turns the light out as Martin adjusts his end of the covers, careful not to pull them too far in his direction. His ears are still humming from the music, and his head feels light. It’s still dark outside, but it feels like early morning. Last time they did this, whilst staying at a mate’s house on a weekend away, they kept giggling so much they almost didn’t get to sleep. Not this time – but that’s okay. Martin just needs the company, and for all Declan’s stoicness, he needs it too.

[kierantierney3]

hiiiiiii!!! i wanted to request a martin odegaard social media, where they are childhood friends to lovers and want to soft launch but nobody believes them because she's a very big singer or something

Thank you for your request. I miss writing for him feels like recently i’ve been writing a lot of Jude and Kt which i’m not mad about.

—-

yourusername

liked by ødegaard.98, bukayosaka87, and 991,729 others

yourusername Happy birthday to my favourite person in the world. My longest friend ever. My Childhood bestie, your stuck with me for life now. I love you ❤️

view all comments

ødegaard.98 Thank you 🙏🏻 ❤️

user How sweet 😢

user I always forget they are childhood friends

user Okay just date 😭 pls

yourusername story

ødegaard.98

liked by yourusername, reissnelson and 419,939 others

ødegaard.98 Recharged

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yourusername Captain 😗

user Y/n soft launch and Martin soft launch very interesting 🤨

user Soft launch?? damn i’m jealous

user There is no way he pulled someone like y/n

^user Hello have you seen Martin?^

yourusername

liked by odegaard.98, aaronramsdale and 2,188,829 others

yourusername He could pull me 😚😜

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odegaard.98 We talked about the caption?

^yourusername I wanted to change it 😘^

user I KNEW IT

^user of course you did they both did a soft launch everyone connected the dots^

user How sweet

ødegaard.98

liked by yourusername, erling.haaland and 617,729 others

ødegaard.98 Of course she could pull me 😌

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yourusername Hey matching captions 😍😍

user Childhood friends to lovers i’m a sucker for

user So cute

user Of course they both could pull each other

[julianalvarez9]

thunderstorms / martin ødegaard

author's note: OMG THIS GIF????? dead. i'm in love. anyways, here it is. the tittle's pretty self explanatory, but had this idea once i realised i'm not the biggest fan of thunderstorms. not the best i've ever written buuuut it's fluff and 2 idiots in love who think it's unrequited when it's not so it's good for my heart. anywayssssss too much talking.

summary: you never quite liked thunderstorms -not as a child and, surprisingly, not now either. it hadn't been a problem until you moved out of your parent's house, living with martin now, who didn't really know about your secret.

wc: 1.5 k. words.

you knew that, being a twenty-something woman, you should have grown out of your fear of thunderstorms: everyone had it, at some point in their life, but it quickly had faded away: long forgotten or just outgrown it. except, unfortunately, you hadn't.

having recently moved in with martin, your best friend, you hadn't found a reason to tell him. you knew it was stupid anyways, and with how often he was away, if any storms was to break out suddenly you could just turn the music up, like you did when you lived with your parents, and hope it ends sooner than later. basically, it hadn't appeared to be a problem. at least, not until now.

when you woke up today, and checked the weather app -like you always did before going to work-, you saw the little icon signaling a thunderstorm coming later today. but being as stubborn as you were, you didn't want to believe it. your mother always used to say that the weather wasn't an exact science, and a gush of wind could turn the whole calculations on their feet. but, even if you wanted to believe your mother, you knew that sooner or later you luck would run out.

you had arrived a couple of hours ago, having made dinner and quietly gone back up to your room, expecting the inevitable to happen. you had heard martin come in too, not too long after you. but you knew he might be tired from training, and you didn't want to bother him too much.

it had been pouring down for almost 30 minutes now, the noise cancelling earphones turning to be useless while the vibrations from the thunder seemed to creep under your bones. you knew annoying martin with such childish concerns wouldn't make anything better -hell, he couldn't call down the thunderstorm, no matter what he did-, but anyways, you found yourself right at his door, knuckle hitting slowly the wood to draw his attention. maybe, if you were lucky, he would already be asleep.

"martin, hi," was the first thing you said when the door opened and you saw his broad frame. he was in sweatpants and no shirt, and you had to focus really hard not to look at him too long. his disheveled hair made you aware that he was, in fact, sleeping, and you only felt dumber about it. "sorry to wake you up".

"hey, no. wasn't asleep yet", he lied, voice still hoarse while smiling tiredly. "everything okay?".

almost on cue, a thunder struck, making you jump involuntarily and prompting martin to extend his arms towards you. "y/n, are you okay?", he asked, palms softly going up and down your arm, trying to calm you down. "it might sound kinda silly but i-i'm afraid of thunderstorms," you confessed, cheeks heating up under his attentive piercing blue stare. stumbling onto his words, probably due to the sleep that still clouded his brain. not that he would ever admit to you that yeah, he was awoken by your presence. "you can sleep here if that'll make you feel better". he quietly added, overthinking whether he had sounded too forward. "i mean, if you want?".

the little laugh that emanated from you not only eased his worries, but it warmed up his heart, like it always did. you shyly got into the room, with martin closing the door softly behind your frame. the room, even dark as it was, still could be recognised as his: his fragrance intoxicating in the best way.

"you know you can get closer, right?”. martin is the first one to speak once you’ve settled under the covers. you didn’t want to annoy him, again, so you had resolved to sleep as far away from his body as possible. “you’ll fall and hurt yourself, y/n.”

"you're already doing too much. i don't want to bother you any further".

he chuckled at your reasoning. "nonsense. come on, come closer".

martin extended his arms, fingertips just barely touching the skin of your shoulders. he did it softly, force just enough to turn you from your side to your back, facing the ceiling now. he smiled involuntarily at the sight, your features softly illuminated by the light coming from the outside, before swiftly turning to face him. you never liked to sleep on your back.

the storm was still going as strong as before, but now, you had something else to focus on. or someone. being this close was already dangerous enough, you thought. his body heat radiating, reminding you that he was very much there didn’t help, either, and the effects were worse than you could have anticipated. you doubted what was worse: facing the night scared for the thunderstorm, or for fucking it all up now, with martin so close to you.

what you didn't know was that martin was struggling just as much.

even if he didn't know, he was slowly but surely falling in love with you. it had started as a silly crush, really, even before asking you to live with him. he hadn't done it with any ulterior motives: he knew you needed a place to stay, and being good friends for quite some time it wouldn’t be such a crazy idea to propose you to live with him. i’m not even there half of the time, he assured: and he was right. what he couldn’t forewarn was how he would react when the two of you were under the same roof. the domesticity of it all is what lulled him in in the end: how easy you seemed to fit into his life, -not that he asked it from you-, how cute you looked when you were making coffee for the both of you, how your hair rested softly on your shoulder, messy bed hair adorning your beautiful face.

the daydreaming, more like nightdreaming? had gone so far in martin's head that he hadn't noticed the little "i love you" that fell from his lips, breathy and almost inaudible. if it was muttered five seconds after, you would have been deeply asleep, lulled by the way martin was playing with your hair, fingers treading on the streaks. the confession would have slipped past you if you weren’t on the verge of consciousness, the norwegian’s voice being the silver string that brought you back. "what?".

"god, you scared me”, he said, bringing a hand to rest on his beating heart. “thought you were asleep". you asked, again, now eyes wide open, trying to get even the smallest glimpse of his face. "what did you say?".

"i don't really know. maybe i talk in my sleep and i didn’t know until now,” he jokes, and although you're quite disappointed about it, you give the benefit of the doubt. "oh. okay."

you know it’s dumb, really. you hadn't even heard him clearly to begin with, but the possibility of hearing your roommate say “i love you” had made your stomach turn slightly, and now, instead, you couldn’t help but feel kinda disappointed, even if you reprimanded yourself for even thinking about it. he was giving you so much already, what more could you possibly want?

but if martin ødegaard prided himself for something, was being perceptive. he knew how to recognise patterns, sense if something had changed in the behavior of one of his teammates that could hint at any problems that needed fixing inside the squad: that’s why he was captain, both at arsenal and his national team. and due to this, he could sense how your tone dropped, seemingly disappointed at his vague answer. yeah, he was in too deep, but he realized what he had said.

"hypothetically speaking, if i had said something, what would you think about it?".

"depending on what you said”.

he had continued playing with your hair all throughout the interaction, but getting closer to the strands that adorned your face now. "tell me what you've heard," martin insisted with a mischievous tone. "that you loved me,” you whispered, questioning tone at the end of the sentence and quickly shifting your gaze into his eyes away, involuntarily falling at his lips. you saw the smirk that played on his face before he said "yeah, wasn't such a surprise, wasn’t it?" and slipped his calloused hand towards your neck, slowly caressing your jaw with his thumb.

“stop,” you giggled, flustered at his latest actions. turning to hide your face in the pillow, he still could hear your accusation, although rather muffled. “you’re lying to make me forget about the stupid storm outside”. he tipped your head back, slowly, making you face him again. his bright blue eyes had shifted to your lips now. “could tell you exactly the same thing tomorrow, over breakfast, when the sun's out", he reassures, nose touching your own lovingly. "you like your eggs scrambled, don’t you?” martin asked, not that he needed your confirmation to know: he had watched you enough to know what you liked to have in the mornings.

“and you like your coffee way too strong”.

[yellowkitkieran]

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. 

[oh-saints]

sunshine becomes you (final)

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

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.7k

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

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

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

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who was he to wish something too futile to happen?

“Let me get the car keys—”

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

“Out of the question, Angel—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was real.

“Ask me something I never do.”

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

“Ask, Angel.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It never was for me, at least.”

“But it’s your idea to do that.”

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

“You used my desperation to—”

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

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

“What makes you say that?”

“You never reply whenever I say good morning.”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

And Eve couldn’t hold back her stupefied gasp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Martin, please…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thus, explaining his bold move further down south.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You really lost against me.”

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

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

“You feel like my biggest victory anyway.”

Because sunshine has become Eve.

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

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

[fallinforerling]

*ੈ✩‧₊ MARTIN’S MASTERLIST

: ̗̀➛ MARTIN'S TAGLIST

: ̗̀➛ MASTERLIST

stories including (*) has +18 content.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ONE SHOTS ੈ♡˳

ೃ⁀➷ CAPTAIN'S LUCKY CHARM -Despite any anxiety he might feel, he knows your presence calms him, and his team notices. You're his lucky charm.

[football-and-fanfics]

Martin Odegaard masterlist

These are all the imagines I have written for Martin Odegaard (links below the cut). Newly posted imagines for him will be added onto here a.s.a.p.

Last updated: 7 October 2023

Imagines posted in 2021: (💦= smut imagine)

"I just needed to see you."

Moving in together

Day off 💦

Jealous 💦

Imagines posted in 2022:

5 Years older

Falling asleep somewhere they're not supposed to

"Someone's cranky this morning."

Ridiculous

Imagines posted in 2023:

Gym 💦

[nicolesainz]

Footloose (MØ 8)

Martin Ødegaard x f!reader (Erling Haaland’s sister)

Warnings: extreme fluff

Summary: She’s on the way to her school dance, with no parter along. Martin has an obstacle standing in his way. But he is willing to go through it, just for a dance with her.

Special dedication to my besties @freedaxf1+ Jo

“Let me see you baby sis, come on!” Erling shouts from downstairs, as I apply my final layer of lipstick. I take a deep breath and put on my heels, before going down the stairs carefully.

Whilst I make my way down to the hall, I can feel my brother’s and mother’s eyes following my path, pictures being taken of me and the awkwardness kicks in.

Suddenly, a third figure catches my eye, even though his were already glued on me. My brother’s best friend and Norway teammate, Martin, was a part of my life for a long time. He’s two years older than my brother but five years than me.

The age gap was never an obstacle for me to be attracted to him. He was my first love, he still is, considering I refuse to look at another man, or a man at me. Martin was always more mature than my brother, more sensible and thoughtful.

He would always ask me if I wanted to join them in a game of football or attend one of their matches, to which Erling would always respond “I don’t think she’d be interested in that” or “It’s boys time now, mate. We’ll hang out with her later”.

Martin was smart enough to notice the frown in my face and disappointment in my eyes. In between his games or whenever he found an excuse to leave the room, he would always come up to me and apologize. Even if we spent five minutes together, they meant a lot to me.

“Oh my Kjære, you look breathtaking! A proper lady. Erling, take the pictures, I need a minute” my mother mumbles in between her cries and sniffs.

My brother holds his phone up and snaps multiple pictures of me. Only in those pictures I don’t look once in the camera. My eyes are locked with Martin’s and I feel like the world has stopped for a brief moment.

Martin was always a man I looked up to. He surely is the fierce, powerful and restless captain of Arsenal, but I know him as the sweet, tender and humble Norwegian, that would always help me, even if that meant fighting with Erling afterwards.

His tongue swiped across his lips, wetting them and making my heart beat a little faster than usual. I have to admit that he was the most handsome boy I’ve met in my life. No man is perfect but for him, I will make an exception.

“Okay, stop the lovey dovey eye talk you two. Her boyfriend is coming soon” Erling says and in seconds Martin’s head spins with a shocked look in his eyes. I almost fell down the stairs but I thankfully manage to steady myself on the handle next to me.

“Are you alright Y/N? You’re not hurt, are you?” Martin’s eyes were a mixture of concern and jealousy at the same time. He quickly moved to my side, holding my hand firmly.

“I’m okay. Saved by the bell. Tusen takk, Martin. And what are you saying? What boyfriend?” I ask my brother, trying to understand the theory created in his head.

“The guy who was yesterday with you, while I was picking you up? Isn’t he your boyfriend? You looked pretty close” I could feel Martin’s eyes glued to my lips, hanging from them, waiting for my answer.

“I don’t know if anyone has fouled you at the head but no. He is Jason and my best friend, who surely isn’t into women” my brother was silenced and a soft breath escaped Martin’s mouth.

“So, you’re going to the final dance alone? No date?” My mother said, with a concern drawn all over her eyes as if this is the end of the world.

“My friends will be there. We are going to have some fun and then I am coming back home” I reply bluntly, trying to hide my sadness and disappointment.

If I could have a dance partner tonight, I’d love for him to be the blonde Norwegian, whose hand is on my wait, holding me still, and causing a million little sparks to fly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t know. If there’s anything I can do to make your night better tell me and I will do it in a heartbeat” Erling comes up to me and wraps us into a big hug, one that he doesn’t often give to anyone, but I am the exception.

“We will take you there. It’s on our way to the pitch, so we can also pick you up quicker” he continues while picking up his car keys and looking at my mom, whose eyes were still very red fro crying.

I went up to her and gave her a big hug. Eve though attending this prom was never in my original plans, I do it for her. She couldn't attend her school dance, because she got pregnant with my brother. I love her too much to let this opportunity go to waste.

"I hope you have a wonderful time min elskede. This is your night. And who knows, maybe a prince will come along the way. Be careful and take loads of pictures. Jeg elsker deg" she softly says, caressing my curls that were falling all the way down to my elbows.

"Come on princess, before your carriage turns into a pumpkin with me and Martin into mice" My brother whines, while honking loudly enough to disturb the neighbourhood.

"Slutt å være et rasshøl" (stop being an asshole). I hear Martin complain to Erling, as he was clearly being very annoying at the moment.

On our way to my school, I play with all my rings that are hanging from my fingers, while Martin's eyes are roaming all over my body, scanning my every move and little detail on my outfit. I refused to look up, so our eyes would lock, but even the feeling on me, caused a thousand little tingles on my heart.

When I finally looked up, so I could tell my brother where to stop, my eyes fell on Martin's, who was still looking at me through the mirror at the front. A smile was formed on his lips and so on mine. It wasn't awkward in the slightest. It was like a conversation between us, where he mouths at me 'You look incredible'

"Okay missy. We have arrived. A few rules, so we get things straight. No drinking. No smoking. No running behind boys. No weird danced that I may see by accident on insta. But most of all, do not bring along anyone afterwards unless it's one of your girlfriends"

"You sound worse than dad. I will be fine, Erling. You guys will be less than fifteen minutes away from here. If I need anything I will ring you up. Martin, can you go and escort her? I seriously don't need to go back there"

"Of course. Unless Y/N, doesn't want me to, then I won't pressure her"

"It's okay. I truly don't mind. Better than the beast of a brother I have. He will take all the attention away and people will start to gossip"

"I love you too, lillesøster" Erling flashes me an ironic smile before I open my door.

"Aldri sagt at jeg gjorde det" (Never said I did), I reply, with a soft laugh escaping Martin and earning a death stare from my brother.

Martin offered me his hand and I held it firmly, so I could walk up the stairs, without tripping on my dress. Holding his hand was like a hundred butterflies hovering on my stomach and throat. I felt safe, even if that was for a few minutes.

As we reached the top, Martin's fingers were fixing my hair messed by the wind and skimmed through my skin softly. The lightest touch of his could make my knees go weak for him. He doesn't know the effect he has on me.

Our faces are very close to each other's and my entire body is shaking. I can't possibly take my eyes from him. I take every chance I have to cherish his presence, when he is not back in London. Seeing him on the television screen, doesn't compare to his real life grace. He is simply majestic and I hate myself for loving him this much.

"Nyt denne kvelden, min favoritt. Du vil være den vakreste jenta der inne" (Enjoy your night, my favourite. You will be the most beautiful girl in there). Martin whispers in my ear, before landing an unexpected kiss on my cheek. My whole face had turned scarlet red and I thought my heart would run miles to find his after that. We were very close, but not in a million years I thought that my first kiss, even if it was on the cheek, would be by my lifelong crush.

"Thank you. I appreciate it very much. I hope the game goes well tonight and you win. I will root from afar!" If I could drag him inside with me, I certainly would do. And if I wasn't afraid of his reaction.

In the face of the angry, pained, harsh Arsenal captain that everyone knew, I saw a man that I would do everything to have. A loving, heartfelt, adoring man.

Martin's hands drop mine slowly, hesitating and waves me goodbye before going back into my brother's car. I find it very unfair that I can't spend my night with him.

Once I open the gates and witness the beauty of the stadium, my eyes fall on all my friends who were dancing with their boyfriends. Stephanie notices me and excuses herself from her beloved one, before making her way towards me, wrapping her arms around me.

"I am so glad you decided to come! If you didn't, I would start ringing your bell until you hates me. My goodness, you look amazing. Oh my, Y/N!" Stephanie showers me with compliments and I repay her with the same gift. She shows me where we are supposed to sit and I see Jason on the table, alone, looking at his crush, who is on his phone, equally alone.

"Hey Jace. You look great. I am sorry for being late" I greet with a smile and give him a hug. I can hear him sighing loudly, clearly disappointed at tonight.

"At least now I am not entirely alone. You look very nice by the way!" he says, still looking away from me an focusing on a few tables afar. I feel so bad for him, because I can understand the position he is in.

I have to help him. If it can't be me who is happy tonight, at least let it be Jason who is. And he deserves to be happy, I know that he has chances with that boy and that the feelings are mutual.

"Can I give you a piece of advice? And if you want follow it. I am sure though that it will help you with the situation” I caress Jason’s back, trying to calm his down, as his whole body is tense, seeing that the man is about to leave.

“Go and talk to him. He’s been waiting for you. Trust me. It will be okay. I’m sure things will turn out the way you like them” I flash him a smile, while he’s grinning innocently, afraid of being embarrassed and things going south.

“I’ll change name and country if this fails. But I’m still taking you with me, even if this is your plan. I need someone and you’re the only who tolerates me”

“I don’t tolerate you Jason, you’re my friend. And I want the best for you. So for this once, trust me. I’ll be here waiting”

“I love you so much to be mad at you, no matter what” I said before leaving in a rush, trying to catch the man who would have been his possible date.

I plumped on my seat and watched everyone dancing with their partners during very slow romantic songs that made my heart melt. It was a sight for sore eyes. I went on my Instagram to scroll a bit through the stories. Everyone had posted the ballroom, so I decided to snap a few pic too.

It didn’t bother me that I didn’t have a boy to dance with. It bothered me that I couldn’t be with a certain boy. Other girls at the pitch were probably flirting and cheering for him, old friends of theirs and I was in a long blue dress, unable to go anywhere, thinking I’d be considered crazy if I walked all the way from the school up to the field.

Scrolling accidentally to my first story, didn’t help either as Martin’s face popped up and the unease inside me grew bigger. I probably have more pictures of Martin than I have of me or my brother and friends.

I decided to shut down my phone and just let myself enjoy the slow music. It was peaceful and thanks to my luck, Jason was seeing leaving with the guy he was eyeing since forever. He waved me goodbye and mouthed ‘thank you, I owe you’

I waved both of them and made the heart symbol with my fingers. Mission accomplished as they say. At least someone got what they desired tonight.

As I was about to make my way towards my friends who were telling me to come on the dance floor, my phone clung and the name I so badly desired appeared on my screen.

Martin: having fun? do you need anything?

If I could, I’d say ‘please come, pick me up and simply take me with you’ but that would have too much so instead, I played it cool. Well, as much as I could.

Me: not a fun fest, but decent.

Martin: Do you need me to come around?

Me: What? No. Don’t waste your time. Go and play. I’ll be fine.

Martin: No way. I’m coming there. Stay inside so you don’t get cold.

Me: I’ve told you I’m okay. Erling will blame me for whining. We will talk later.

Martin: Too late. Already on my way. Stay inside.

Why was he doing this? Why would he drop his game just to pick me up, when he could have easily told me to go get a taxi or ask mom to take me?

Because Martin isn’t that type of person. Because he actual cares about you. He isn’t a simple man who won’t give the slightest attention. He is willing to give you the world, but you simply don't know it yet.

I walked towards the door, before I saw Stephanie, looking weirdly at me, asking where I was going. I told her that I was going to leave and asked me if I needed anything from her. I thanked her for tonight and making an effort to cheer me up.

As I was about to open the gates, a rushing and sweaty Martin came up to me, with an angry looking in his eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to stay inside?" he took my hand and led us outside, covering me with his jacket, so I couldn't get cold.

"I was just about to go out. Nothing would have happened. Relax" I say in an annoyed tone, clearly not wanting to sound as mean as I did.

"Fuck, Y/N, you never know. I was just being careful and thoughtful towards you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you"

"Tell that to yourself, because now you are getting sick, being all sweaty and without wearing a jacket. Are you insane?"

"I don't care about me. I know how to handle the cold in those situations. All I want is for you to be safe, but you are making it very difficult for me"

"Why Martin?"

"What why? Are you seriously asking me why I care about you?"

"Yes. Yes I am. Why are you always taking my side, instead of my brother's? Why are you always willing to let me join your games, when I know shit about football? Why are you always coming to my aid when I've let myself be alone?"

"Because, my dear, you have always been kinder than anyone else. You have been my angel on earth. In denial. In denial of my love towards you. In denial that someone can love you. And especially someone like me who is presented as coldhearted, mean and selfish"

I felt the earth stop spinning and my heart thumping against my chest so hard, I thought it was about to burst out, with Martin's name carved on top of it. Did he actually admit being in love with me? The Martin Ødegaard? My Martin?

"Y-you l-lo-love m-m-me?" the words barely came out of my mouth. I was stunned and I think starstruck but what had just happened.

"Jeg elsker deg som om det ikke finnes noen morgendag. Jeg elsker deg som om jeg kan ta på stjernene og gi dem til deg. Jeg elsker deg så høyt at jeg dedikerer hver eneste målfeiring til deg, mens verden ser på oss." (I love you as if there is no tomorrow. I love you as if I can touch the stars and gift them to you. I love you this much to dedicate every of my goal celebrations to you, with the world watching us.)

I felt tears escaping my tears and falling down to my wet lips. I couldn't stop smiling for a single second. This was all that I wanted.

"You don't know, how long I had been wanting to hear those words. And I would have waited for you as much as necessary. Whether that was weeks, months or years, I would have waited for you and loved you unconditionally. Because, I love you too Martin."

I got picked up by him and held in his tight hug. The sweetest most amazing hug I have ever received. This felt like a dream coming true. Like magic.

He closed the gap between us with a soft kiss, full of every emotion I had felt for Martin and every emotion he had felt for me. His lips connected perfectly with mine, dancing along and not letting each other apart.

He put me down and put his hands on me cheeks, holding me firmly and deepening the kiss even more. We both refused to let each other go now that we found wonderland. I felt Martin mumbling in between the kisses:

"I am going to kiss and love you for forever. You are truly my favourite person on this planet"

[the-offside-rule]

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.

[colorsofmyseason]

Finally getting through my LONG writer's block by writing this piece, it's very random and basically plotless but hope you enjoy it!

[kierantierney3]

Since England lost the final can you please do part 2 of "lovers", thank you in advance :)

Hi thank you for your request!!! I enjoyed making part 1 and was hoping to get to write a part 2.

Disclaimer i’m not english i’m scottish that tells you everything you need to know about who i wanted to win the final.

Masterlist

Face claim: Alessia Russo

Part 1

————-

yourusername

liked by ødegaard.98, ellatoone and 99,882 others

yourusername Special night 3/3 in the group stage. Now onto round of 16. Thank you everyone for the support. Buzzing to score my first goal hopefully more to come.

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ødegaard.98 So so proud 😍❤️

ødegaard.98 Amazing player

ellatoone ❤️ Mrs Ødegaard

user What a star ⭐️

ødegaard.98

liked by yourusername, declanrice and 291,949 others

ødegaard.98 What a start to the season. Thank you for all the support. See you for the start of the premier league. 🏆

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yourusername So proud of you i love you. What a player. Deserve all of it. ❤️

user Best team

user This team man!!! can’t wait for the premier league to restart.

yourusername

liked by ødegaard,98, keirawalsh and 101,839 others

yourusername What an unbelievable team. We fought hard and got through. Thanks for the support. See you in the next round. 🦁

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ødegaard.98 No surprises here. What a player and what a team. 😍

⤷ I love you 😘

user What a unreal player. Big season coming up ⬆️

user We are going to win it 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

yourusername story

yourusername

liked by ødegaard.98, eddienketiah and 128,939 others

yourusername Through to the semi finals. What a performance from everyone. See you guys for the next game. 🦁🤍

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ødegaard.98 Some player. I miss you but i’m so proud of you. ❤️

user It’s coming home

user Women’s football > men’s football

ødegaard.98

liked by yourusername, bukayosaka87 and 239,920 others

ødegaard.98 Back with 3 points ❤️ Thanks for the support

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yourusername Sorry you only got me 2 points in my premier league team straight out for someone else. ❤️

bukayosaka87 Captain 👏🏿

user Typical Arsenal nerve racking last minutes with a goal advantage.

yourusername

liked by ødegaard.98, leahwilliamson and 183,894 others

yourusername Off to the world cup finals. What an unbelievable support from everyone. See you soon 🦁🦁

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ødegaard.98 Amazing! Bring it home.

user Can’t believe it think i was in shock for a good couple hours.

user Final is going to be the most stressful thing ever.

ødegaard.98

liked by declanrice, benwhite and 318,929 others

ødegaard.98 Big win, big team performance from everyone. Proud of them. ❤️

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user Ref was shocking

user Please please give y/n a massive hug when you finally see her. Deserves so much money, and seemed heartbroken at full time.

user Some player. Can’t believe we got you for £30 million.

yourusername

liked by ødegaard.98, judebellingham and 102,939 others

yourusername Sadly it wasn’t meant to be. We are heartbroken. So proud of everyone we just came up short. Full congratulations to spain they played a good game of football and came out the winners.

Thank you for all the support from everyone around to world. Some amazing 6 weeks that i will never forgot.

Now we rest for the upcoming season ahead. No doubt we will come back stronger again. 🦁🤍

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ødegaard So proud of you and the team you did everyone amazingly. Football is a cruel sport.

user So proud of you and the girl you did us all proud.

judebellingham 🤍 Rest up well.

user See you for the new season. Rest up it’s a big season ahead.

ødegaard.98 story

Hope that is ok. Got a couple more requests still need to be written. I tend to write the ones that come in first.