#martinodegaardfluff

[cainnleacghlovers]

Daisy - MØ

Pairing: Martin Ødegaard x Fem!Reader

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

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

Warnings: pure fluff!!!

Rushing around, you bumped into the coffee table.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

The smell of something really good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The fact your students appreciated you made everything worth while.

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shut him up with another light kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you. So much.” He said.

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

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

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

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

[cainnleacghlovers]

My beautiful girl - MØ

Paring: Martin Ødegaard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Even with her hair in rollers, and Bronzer? Contour? Wait, concealer? All over her face, actually, never mind, same thing. Y/N is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and he wants her to know it.

Warnings: Smut (but like really soft smut🥹) and fluff because Martin? Duhhh

“Gotcha you sly bastard!” You cheer, as you finally get the last roller in your hair. You had a habit of getting it stuck, getting frustrated, and instead of gently taking it out, you just rip it out. With half of your hair. Oh well.

You were heading out to lunch with a few friends, and you had the afternoon free (finally) from University. Getting a little glammed up wouldn’t hurt.

Legs crossed, a hot-water bottle draped between your thighs. You can already seen the red patch on your legs from where the heat contrasted the coolness of the London February’s.

Taking a sip of water, and fanning your face, why work out when you can put rollers in your hair? You reach over, hoping you’ll be able to grab your makeup bag without moving, knowing that if you do, you’ll get that weird ‘i just moved now i’m absolutely freezing’ feeling. Grabbing the end of it, you tip the bag over.

Mid fall, you completely regret your decision. Hearing the bag plop on the floor, you cringe.

My Fenty bronzer better not have cracked. You think to yourself.

Lifting the bag, without getting up, scooting on your butt, you inspect the bag. Looks good so far.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips. If there was a fire you’d save the Fenty bronzer, then the Rare Beauty blush, then Martin, and then yourself. Priorities.

As you begin your skin prep, making sure everything is clean. You heard the door open, and a pair of shoes fall to the floor.

A smile stretches across your cheeks, as you apply your moisturiser.

“I’m home kjælighet!” You hear booming up into your shared room.

“Upstairs!” You shout back, your hands moving to find cotton pads as you tip some micellar water onto it, gently rubbing it into your skin.

As you do that, you hear feet stomping up the stairs, and about half way up, there’s a loud noise, with a voice following it. “I’m okay!”

Only Martin, the man who was silk with a football, weaving it through defender and defender, would fall up something so simple as stairs. He was a silly boy, but he was your silly boy.

He stumbled into the room, you checked to see if he had all four limbs. Arm, other arm, leg, other leg. Amazing.

“Did you fall?” You snigger, as his beautiful blue eyes meet yours. His hair a little messy from training. The sun hitting him perfectly. You were one lucky girl.

“Fall for you? Absolutely.” He stated, as he pretends to faint, before sliding on his socks across the wooden floor, and landing beside you as he pulled you in for a hug, careful that he didn’t move your rollers.

Placing kisses all across your face, he pulled away, his tongue hanging out in disgust.

“You taste horrible.” He said, not really mad.

“It’s a gourmet fine wine.” You teased, holding up the bottle in front of him. He was quick to pull you in for another kiss. This one landing on the crown of your forehead, as you melted into his embrace.

Rubbing your hand slowly, he picked up random bits of your makeup.

“Does this all do something different or?” He asked, picking up two of the exact same products. Yes they were the same, but it was on deal. Well, it wasn’t actually on deal. You literally gaslighted yourself into thinking that, knowing you’d cringe if you ever looked at how much you spent in Sephora.

“No I just buy loads of the same stuff, of course it does different stuff.” You retorted. Picking up your primer, squeezing a few drops onto your hands before rubbing it onto your cheeks.

He admired how delicately your fingers moved across your face, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, this boy was in love.

“This is bronzer?” He questioned, his eyebrows peeking up at you as he held your contour stick. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he pronounced ‘bronzer’ his accent making it sound more like ‘bron-steer.’

“Close but no cigar, that’s contour baby.”

“Contour, bronzer. Tomato, Tomato. Same thing.” He huffed. He hated being wrong.

“Forward, right wing. Same thing.” You retorted. He’s explained, how many times? You’d lost count. But you still didn’t get the difference.

He grinned at the joke, and pulled you into him, tickling under your arms. You were a teenage giggling messing fit, as the beautiful boy teased you.

“Martin I have perfect aim of your balls. Let go.” You breathed out, exhausted from the wriggling and wiggling.

“Low blow. Literally.” He joked, making both of you roll on the ground with laughter.

He swore his cheeks were going to fall off from smiling, but your laugh was everything to him. He’d give up everything if he thought it would make you happy.

You two sat in a comfortable silence as he watched you prep your skin for makeup. As you carved out your eyebrows, he bit his lip.

“What do you want?” You teased.

“Can I do your makeup?” He asked.

“Absolutely!” You grinned. Normally, you wouldn’t let anyone touch your makeup, let alone your face, but Martin wasn’t just anybody.

“Well take a seat in the chair.” He joked, raising his eyebrows at you, as he glanced down to his lap.

“Well you behave?” You teased back, sitting down on his lap, his hands protectively finding their way to the small of you back, holding you in place.

“Of course I can. Now let’s get this started!”

—

As he pumped foundation onto your face, he stuck his tongue out in concentration as he began to dab it in with a brush.

“Martin baby, that’s the wrong end. Flip it round.” You said, feeling the stick prod into your gums.

“Oh did I hurt you?” He asked, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort.

“You’d give my orthodontist a heart attack if she thought you were sitting poking at my teeth.” You joked, as he laughed along. This time rubbing the foundation into your face with the soft part. Much better.

As he moved slowly along your face, careful not to hurt you, you leaned your neck the other way, as the tv caught your attention.

“Mhm eyes this way Skatten.” He scolded, as he used his free hand to pull you closer to him by your neck. You couldn’t lie, that erupted butterflies in your stomach, and the ache started between your legs.

“That’s better. I wanna see those pretty eyes, yeah?” He said, looking in your makeup bag, for what he thought was next. Powder.

This was going to be fun.

—

As Martin continued across your face, you suddenly didn’t care about going out with your friends. It would be a shitty move to cancel on them, but… coke on now! They’d cancel too if they seen the sight in front of you.

“I’m almost done!” He said, looking about for lipstick. He couldn’t seem to find it.

“Under your ass Martin.” You said, and he lifted himself up to see that the lipstick was in fact, under his ass.

“You could say it was, under my nose this whole time.” He joked, in a weird British accent. You’d watched Bond recently, and he was obsessed was speaking in a weird cryptic tone.

You laughed as his joke literally made no sense.

“There’s no one like you baby.” You said, as you patted his thigh and felt his breath hitch. He knew you noticed, and gave you a sheepish smile, as he uncapped the lipstick.

‘Please don’t smudge that Martin. It’s Morphe.’

As he gently brushed the lipstick across your lips, he couldn’t help but stare at them. You couldn’t help but stare at his.

If this was a movie, everyone would be screaming for you to kiss.

“All done!” He said, clearly chuffed with himself. He helped you up, pulling you out of your day dream, as he dragged you into the bathroom so you could see.

Making eye contact with yourself, you can’t lie, you were impressed. Other than the fact, he forgot mascara, he done a pretty good job.

“I think there’s a career as a Makeup artist in the future. Forget football.” You joked, as he moved closer to you, pushing your back against the counter of the bathroom, as he lifted you up onto it, slotting between your legs. His nose brushed yours, as he placed a light kiss on your lips.

“Oh football was just a stepping stone for me to become a makeup artist. That’s my real passion.” He mumbled against your lips.

Sick of your rollers, one had been digging into your head all day, and it was pissing you off, so you not so elegantly, took them out. Martin seen what you were doing, and after watching a few times, he realised what to do, and helped you with the rest.

As you took the last one out, you put your hands through your hair, as he looked at you. Jaw on the floor.

“You look absolutely gorgeous, wow.” He mumbled against your neck, as he worked his way up softly to your lips.

The kiss was sweet, and full of love, as you two melted into each other. However, the soft moan that left his lips as you lightly rubbed on the strands of hair at his neck, switched his mood.

He bit your lip softly, silently asking you for to open up, as he slid his tongue into your mouth. His tongue met yours.

The kiss was passionate, as Martins hands slowly left the back of your neck, and travelled down to your hips, slightly rubbing them, as he mumbled ‘i love yous’ and ‘you’re so beautiful’ into your mouth.

Rubbing his hands down your thighs, you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he hands gripped onto your ass, as he slowly guided both of you onto the bed. Slipping on the way there on your micellar water.

“That stupid micellar water. Tried to poison my earlier, and now it’s trying to break my legs. Absolutely dirty.” He said, making you laugh, as he felt the vibrations in his lips, as his lips made their way down your neck.

As he licked and sucked lightly on your skin, he found that spot above your collarbone, and you moaned, and you felt him smirk against your skin in response.

Untying your robe, he slowly slid it off of your shoulders, placing a kiss to each one, before you moved it out of the way. He trailed back down your body, until he reached the valley of your breast. Nudging his nose slightly, he sucked slightly, feeling your breath hitch, as your back arched against him.

Using his hands, he pushed your hips back down lightly, before he lifted them to push your bra strap off of your shoulder. Placing a kiss there, yet again.

“The back baby.” He said, and you moaned at the nickname. Loving the way it sounded with his accent.

Arching your back, he unclasped your bra, and quickly began his work on your boobs.

Starting with the right, he lightly sucked the skin around your nipple before he took the left nipple in his finger, toying slightly on the hardened bud. He switched his attention to the left, and did the same thing, he did in the right.

As good as this felt, the aching between your legs only increased as the sight of his swollen lips and messy hair.

“Martin please- do something.” You moaned, as he moved his way down to your stomach, playing with the waist band of your shorts.

“Tell me what you want baby.” He said, his boice husky from lust, as you felt his hardened dick across your thigh, only adding to your arousal.

“I don’t care, just t-touch me.” You managed to get out, your hands finding his hair.

“That’s all I needed baby. Now you sit back and look pretty.” He said, flashing you a wink, before he placed a wet kiss on your lips, as he trailed back down your body to your shorts.

“You’re so beautiful. So damn beautiful.” He said. You wouldn’t blushed at the compliment, but the cage was becoming painful and you just wanted him to do something.

He pulled your shorts down your leg, placing light kisses on your hips. He took the top of your panties in his teeth, as he slowly pulled them down your legs, eventually taking them off when his hand, as he placed wet, warm kisses on your inner thighs.

He worked his way up your thigh, giving you one last smile, as his lips found your aching core. Your back arched immediately at the contact, and your thigh closed around his head. He pried them back open with his hands.

He lightly sucked your clit, before trialing his finger up to your dripping pussy. One hand drew patterns in your thighs, and you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit as you tugged on his hair.

“Fuck Martin, that f-feels so g-good.” You managed to get out, that only added fuel to his fire, as he pushed a finger inside of you.

It was embarrassing honestly, how you were such putty under his hands, but god was he good with his tongue.

As he continued to suck on your clit, he added another finger, and he began to pump them out of you painfully slowly.

“Martin p-please.” You begged.

“That’s my name yes.” He replied smugly, as he looked back up at you. His dick twitching in his shorts as he seen your naked body, slightly red from the marks he’d made.

“F-faster.” You begged, eyes at the back of your head, as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He twisted, pushing his fingers back into you at a much faster pace. When he reached the spot he knew you loved, he began to scissors his fingers. He felt your walls clenching tightly around him, and he knew your body better than you.

“Cum all over my finger’s beautiful.” He said, as your orgasm washed over you, and your vision became foggy.

You didn’t even see him move back up, but you felt your lips against his, and you tasted yourself.

“Have I told you you’re so beautiful?” He said, sounding like a broken record. Your favourite broken record though.

“Have I told you you’re really good with your tongue?” You moaned, as you used your hands to tug his t-shirt off. The sight of his abs making you weak, in your already weak knees.

He pulled his shorts off, and he stood there in his boxers, as he pushed a strong thigh in between your legs.

His tongue, which has just been in your dripping pusey, now roamed your mouth. And you began to rub yourself up and down on his thigh.

His breath hitched, as he too, felt the friction between your pussy, and his clothed dick.

Pulling his boxers down, you reached down to give him a few strokes, his eyes closing, and mouth opening as he moaned lightly in response. Leaving down beside your ear, so you could hear him. His slightly damp hair brushing against your forehead.

“You make me f-feel so good baby. No one l-like you.” He moaned, as you seen pre-cum leak from the top of his dick.

“N-need you so-o bad gorgeous.” He breathed out, his forehead resting against yours, as you both panted into each panted mouths.

He slotted himself between your legs, and look down on you to get confirmation. You nodded your heard, unable to speak from the pure pleasure that has washed over you.

“Need you to tell me what you want baby.” He said, as he brushed a piece of curled hair behind your beard, rubbing your cheek lightly, as his eyes looked lovingly into yours.

You never felt closer to him, than in moments like this.

“P-please keeping going Martin.” You breathed out, as your hands rubbed lightly down his toned abdomen.

He wasted no time in pushing into you lightly, giving you both time to adjust. Both of you moaning from the contact. He pushed himself back out of you, and into you again.

“So fucking t-t-tight around me. Always s-so good.” He moaned into your lips, as he pulled you in for a kiss. You back arching off of the bed, as he began to pick up the pace. His lips trailed down to your boobs, and he began to kiss around them.

His hand snakes up to find yours, as he held your hand beside your head. The bed slightly shaking from Martin moving in and out of you.

As he thrusts became sloppier, and less precise. You knew he was close, and that feeling in your stomach returned.

“Cum for me Martin.” You breathed looking into those beautiful blue eyes.

Feeling your eyes on his, he looked into yours, and smiled.

“I love you Y/N. So so much.” He moaned, as your walks began to clench around him.

“I love you too Martin. So so so much.” You moaned back into lips, as he threw a few more sloppy thrusts before he came inside you, muttering nothing but loving words in Norwegian to you, as he played with your clit softly, and it wasn’t long before you too, came around him.

He stayed in you, smiling down at the sight in front of him.

Messy hair, swollen lips. He’d never seen anything more beautiful.

As you two both caught your breaths, he pulled out of you, whining at the loss of contact, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.

Rubbing ‘I love you’ into your back, you snuggled into him.

“We need to clean up.” You said, this was your least favourite part of sex.

“Good thing there’s a modern day invention called the shower!” He lightly joked, before picking you up bridal style and heading into the bathroom.

This man was everything to you, and you too, were his everything.

Eehh! I actually really like this!! Let me know if you want a part 2 of the shower scene🤭

[cainnleacghlovers]

Honey - MØ

Paring: Martin Ødeagaard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arsenal have just been trashed by City, and all Martin wants to do is love on you. And who are you to deny your boy some cuddles and a bit of an old school recipe.

Warnings: None pure fluff!

Request: “Hi! may i request an imagine about reader taking care of Martin after he loses a match? just giving him attention, massaging him, cute fluffy things :) hope you like the idea 🥺”

⤥ I loved writing this!! I hope this is okay for you <3

As you sat at the table, the essay on Alexander the Great you were meant to be writing, was forgotten. Instead, your eyes were glued to the tv.

Why? A new show you just started and had to binge? Life changing news? No, and no.

Arsenal vs Man City.

You did try to watch the other players, but your eyes unconsciously followed Number 8.

As you watched the game become increasingly City’s, you could see Martin’s normal cool and calamity completely evaporate.

He was fumbling on balls he could dribble in his sleep, he was making dodgy crosses into the box, one’s that didn’t find the boot of a forward.

“Not a fricking forward on the entire pitch!” You exclaimed, as yet another cross by Martin was out over the goal line, and cleared for a goal kick.

As Emerson passed the ball, and it found the feet of Haaland, a boy you were actually quite fond of.

Him and Martin are actually teammates for the Norwegian national team, and he genuinely was a lovely boy.

But in this moment, you’d never hated anyone more.

“Get that frigging ball off of Haaland or god help me, i’ll bust the balls of all of you.” You said, hands finding your hair as he calmly taps the ball in.

What’s this, his 300th goal of the season?

As the match ended, and Jack Grealish scored, or Greasy as you liked to call him, you actually turned the tv off.

“If I wanted to watch something depressing, I’d have put the bloody news on!” You said, before the tv flashed off, you made sure to put both fingers up at the tv.

A habit you’d tried to break.

If something was pissing you off, you flipped it off. The tv was no exception.

“Fuck off you fricking oil laundering club.” You scoffed, getting up.

“And your kits ugly.”

—

Deciding to pop Martin a message, you reached for your phone. You knew he was going to be devastated by the result.

Martin was the most selfless person you’d ever met. He did everything for everyone, and took the burden of everything. He’d blame himself for this loss.

‘Martin there were 10 other boys on that pitch, you can’t blame yourself.’ You’d say, like routine when they lost. ‘And I should’ve done something about them.’ Martin would reply, like clockwork.

Typing a quick message, you hit send.

As you looked through the cupboards of your kitchen, you heard ‘strip that down’ playing from your phone.

You smiled lightly at the inside joke between you and Martin. He found the Liam Payne video, hilarious, and you set it as your alarm to ‘annoy’ him, but really, you just wanted to hear his laugh.

By the way, it’s the most beautiful sound, like ever.

Unlocking your phone, you read his reply.

You smiled at the message as you read it. Only Martin, who’d just lost a game, and would soon, if he wasn’t already, dealing with the hundreds of negative comments he’d get, ask you if you needed anything.

You quickly typed a reply, as you reached for the flour.

As you searched the cupboard for your recipe book, one that your mum had given you when you moved into your own first Uni apartment. Finding the book, you looked for the pink tag.

Aha! Everything brownies.

It’s something you and your brother had concocted one year after Christmas, and it became a family tradition. Every single piece of chocolate went into that mixture. It was pure heaven.

When you’d first met Martins parents, you’d made them. And ever since, they’ve been a favourite of his.

As you began to melt chocolate and butter over the hob, you heard the familiar sound of ‘strip that down’.

Looking at your phone, you read the message Martin had sent you, and sent a quick reply back.

Mixing the melted chocolate with the beated eggs and sugar, you mixed it with the flour as you poured the mixture out onto a baking sheet. Leaving half of it.

This is where the fun began.

Scouting the cupboards, you took out every piece of chocolate you had.

Kitkats, M&M’s, Caramel Buttons, Smarties, Maltesters, and Crunchies.

Satisfied with the amount of chocolate, you reached for your secret ingredient. Honey.

Martin could never figure out what the secret ingredient was, and you’d never tell him.

He’d guessed everything. Maple syrup, vanilla extract. But he just couldn’t get it.

Pouring the rest of the mixture over the brownies, you placed them in the oven. Forgetting a timer, they’d be done when they’d be done.

—

Putting a towel over the heater in the bathroom, you made sure he had enough shampoo. You headed into the bedroom to change the sheets.

You’d explained to him Thursday night. Shaving legs, tanning, and new bed sheets. He wasn’t convinced, saying Thursdays were just ‘filler days’. But once you’d made him shower (He didn’t need to shave his legs, and boy were you jealous. You literally had more hair on your leg than he did.) and got into bed with new sheets, he completely understood where you were coming from.

—

Checking the water heater was on, you checked the brownies and decided they were good enough. As Martin let you know he’d be home in about five minutes, you quickly ran to unlock the door, knowing that his hands would be full.

You searched the freezer for ice cream, and eventually found some, scooping some onto a plate with the brownie, that was still warm. As you did, you heard the key in the door, and quickly ran to it, so he didn’t lock himself out.

You opened the door, and there stood the beautiful boy you called your boyfriend.

His blonde hair was every which way, and he didn’t even have his shoes tied properly. One leg of his trousers was up at the knee, and if his blue eyes weren’t so sad, you’d have laughed at him. He gave you a watery smile, before the door closed and he collapsed into your arms.

“Martin you’re okay.” You soothed, running your fingers through his hair, as he hid his face in your shoulder. The both of you still standing at the door.

“I let everyone down.” He mumbled, his voice shaking with sadness as you felt your heart break.

“No no. You haven’t let anyone down honey. Not a single person.” You said as you calmed him, pulling him towards the sofa.

He wouldn’t meet your eye, and it broke your heart that he was embarrassed.

“Martin.” You said softly, prompting him to look at you.

His sad eyes met yours, and you yourself nearly burst out crying.

“Please listen to me.” You said, as you inched closer to him, taking his cheeks between your hands as you rubbed small circles on them. His hands rested on your thighs, as he craved your warmth.

“You seriously don’t know how talented you are, and it breaks my heart that you think one bad game defines you as a player. Martin, it doesn’t. Okay?!”

He sniffed, as his head fell into your chest, and your hands continued in his hair.

“I feel like I could’ve done more-” You put your finger over his lips.

“Shut up.” You said, smirking slightly at him. You hoped he understood the humorous route you were taking here.

Your heart skipped a beat when he smiled.

“You’re telling me to shut u-” You didn’t even let him finish this time.

“Shut up.” You repeated, as a tired laugh left his lips.

“N-” He began, before you covered your ears with your hands.

“Lalala! Sorry Martin honey, where you saying something? Wait, let me lip read. Oh! You’re saying you’re a talented player, and it’s okay to not score like 6000 goals every match! I totally agree!” You joked, making him laugh as he pulled your hands away from your ears and brought them to his lips, placing a kiss on them.

“Say it.” You teased, poking him in the side.

He shook his head, clearly flustered. He still, after 4 years, wasn’t used to people complimenting him genuinely.

“Say it. Say it.” You chanted, as you began to poke his sides. He moved away from you as he laughed.

“Don’t make me fight you Ødegaard, because I will do it. I’ll go full-” You stopped to think of a boxer, but couldn’t. He laughed at you, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead.

“When are we fighting?” He joked along.

“Right now. Unless you’re too scared.” You continued with the banter.

“Please. I’m going to squash you as much as City did to us.” He smiled weakly at the joke.

His strong thighs, which were tense from the game, rested on either side of your waist as he leaned over you. His hands snaking up your body to find your armpits. Before you could even think, he began to tickle under your arms.

As his hair stuck to his forehead, you kicked at his legs as you strangled to breathe from the amount of laughing you were doing.

“Martin, I will literally kick you in the balls.” You managed to breathe out, as his laughter stopped and he looked you in the eye, his hands finding your thighs.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said, his eyes moving between his crotch and your foot.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“You’d miss them too much.” He smirked.

“Hmm true enough.” You shrugged, as he attacked your beck with soft, warm kisses and you sighed in content as you played softly with his hair.

“Do you want a brownie?” You whispered, and his eyes instantly met yours.

“I think I just had an orgasm at the thought of your brownies.” Martin replied, making you laugh.

“Too bad I didn’t make any though. It was a rhetorical question.” You joked, getting up, with Martin entangling his hand with yours.

You picked up the bowl, and handed it to him, and smiled sheepishly as his stare intimidated you.

Not that what he done scared you, it was just, no one had ever looked at you like you were there everything, like if they lost you, there heart would beat a little slower, and there eyes would see a little less colour.

“You, my love, my baby, my darling, are bloody amazing.” Martin punctuated, kissing you with every word. You laughed at the way he said ‘bloody.’

He insisted on learning your slang, he called it the ‘Y/N Studies.’ He joked it was the only thing he’d ever got an A in.

Lies, he was a goody two shoes at school.

—

As you flicked through the tv, heart racing a bit when you heard the bathroom door open and Martin stood there with a pair of shorts on and his wet hair clinging to his forehead.

He stalked over to the bed, and Martin being Martin, jumped on top of you.

“Martin I cant breathe!” You struggled, as his body weight crushed yours.

“Just keep breathing and breathing!” He sung, and you laughed. Martin loved to love you, and that meant all of your interests. So, he learnt the songs you sung in the shower, one being ‘Breathing’ by Ariana Grande.

“Don’t be such a smart ass.” You whined, as you shoved him off of you.

“Don’t objectify my ass. It has feelings too.” He pouted, as he moved in closer to you, his head resting upon your chest.

Your hands moved through his wet hair. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d have scolded you for making his hair ‘greasy’ but he didn’t have the energy.

“I’m sorry if I let you down.” He whispered against your chest, as you felt his arms grip your waist.

“Martin baby, you let no one down. You ate today.”

You hoped he’d get the joke of ‘ate’ and ‘8’, ad luckily he did, and you felt the vibrations of his laughter against your chest, contrasting the slow beating of your heart. One that beat for him.

As Martin slowly began to close his eyes, you bit your lip, debating whether you should say it.

“Martin.” You said lightly.

“Hmm.” He replied groggily.

“It’s honey.” You said, a smile on your face as he realised what you’d said. He gasped, and looked up at you,

“That’s almost as bad as plankton getting the Crabby Patty Formula.”

God, you loved Martin Ødegaard, all of him. Even his silly little comments and bursting into song.

He was your number 8, your person, your boy.

Kind of disappears… whoops but i’m back babyyyy. Getting through some Ødy requests because our blonde barbie deserves more recognition! Hope you enjoyed!!