#martin odegaard x y/n

[oh-saints]

Hello!! Love how you write angst, could you maybe write a one shot for either mason mount or martin ødegaard, where you have been dating for a couple of years and suddenly he starts being nervous around reader and she thinks that he is going to ask her to move in but he breaks up with her because he starts thinking that she should be with someone that can give her all their time and not being in the spotlight and then idk ajajajaj

Maybe they call them when they are drunk or they get hurt in a match and they call her or something where they hace to face each other or something

Omg this is long ajajajajaj hope you like my idea and it inspires you to write something, I know anything we got from you will be nice :)

hi nonny!! sorry it's only now i can write this request of yours. i hope i'm not too late? ;-)

but since i'm writing an angst-y series for mason, here may i present you something for our favourite young captain that i've been working on the past week...

ghost

it’s true what people say when they tell you to wrap up your unfinished business first. you’re just too blind to see the big, fat ass flag that’s waving as red as your boyfriend’s kit.

martin ødegaard x you tw: insecurity + cheating wc: 3.3k note: this is just a fiction ok i'm just in the mood to make devil out of everyone lolol this actually hits a bit too close to home but I need to let it out, so here we are. I don’t support cheating whatsoever btw, so remember to break it up good first things first 😉but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so it’s not beta-read yet. songs: almost is never enough - nathan sykes, ariana grande & midnight rain - taylor swift

“are you engaged or something that I don’t know of?”

it wasn’t often your best friend paid you a call, considering her florist business was thriving and all and they were now rather short-staffed. so when her name flashed over the screen of your phone, you didn’t think twice to excuse yourself out of your office to pick up her call.

but you didn’t think she’d fire you that question. sure, you’d been dating your boyfriend since the early days of his arrival to the north side of london and things had been going stable between you two. sure, you’d talked about the more serious part of your relationship, such as what if you both get married and all. but that was it—none of you discussed more than that, what ifs.

you wouldn’t turn down the opportunity if given, though.

“uh, no? why are you asking?”

“shit,” your friend muttered under her breath. “promise me, first. don’t tell him it comes from me, okay?”

the more your friend gave you disclaimer like that, the more your heart’s palpitation grew rapid. “as if I’d throw my best friend under the bus.”

she laughed at your lame attempt to hide your nervousness. your voice tended to reach an octave higher when you did so. “martin ordered so many peonies for the weekend.”

peony is your favourite flower, you’d told martin that a long while ago—to which martin utilised the information for every of your anniversary bouquet, along with every time your birthday came up. but he never orders for peony on ordinary days because he thinks it defeats the purpose of presenting you everything special on particular days.

and this weekend was the last game of the season, a mark to officially begin your summer break, which is always the time you both look forward to because in between martin’s constant flying schedules and your 9-5 hectic schedule, it’s always nice to have one or two week(s) secluding yourself from the entire world, spending day and night only with your boyfriend.

you had to take a deep breath to slow down your pounding heart. can it be?

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

see you on the weekend, baby.

martin wasn’t supposed to be smiling this wide. he wasn’t even supposed to smile at all. because despite the sweet moniker, the sender wasn’t his own girlfriend of a little more than two years. worse, the sender had even been deprived of every right to call him by endearments since that painful moment she broke up with him, right when he informed her that there was a better opportunity for him in london.

logically, he was supposed to hate her with all his might—how could he stand someone who didn’t support his growth and development as a young football player? how could he stand someone who only crawled back to him when he was now an up-and-coming name in the football world?

logically, he was supposed to come back home straight from the training ground instead of ordering a bunch of flowers for the next time he met her. why did he feel obliged to bring her a handful of flowers? where did this feeling come from?

martin wasn’t one to understand flowers, anyway. he only bought flowers for special occasions, and that was also because he’d gotten the information yourself about your favourite flower. so why was he purchasing something he didn’t possess the knowledge of, to begin with?

but logic seemed to have escaped the most level-headed person under mikel arteta’s team since the ghost of his past decided to appear before him last week.

“martin, you should know that I’m very sorry for what I’ve done,” she started explaining, and the moment she reached for martin’s hands over the table was the moment his resolve crumbled apart. “I wasn’t thinking straight and I was too foolish to want you all for myself. but I’ve grown up, for you, so that I can be someone you need by your side.”

martin should naturally ask for an evidence, or anything to convince him that she had indeed become better for him, had turned into someone she believed he needed. martin should ask what she had become—could she be like you, the one who put shattered pieces of him together and glued him back to his old self?

martin should prove it himself if this very lady in front of him, who’d inflicted more pain than logically accepted, was a better fit to be his other half than you. hell, martin should’ve even proved it himself that she was no better than you, period. so why did his hand now get tangled with hers, reciprocating the light squeeze she gave him over the table?

why did he think she deserve at least a chance to explain herself?

ironic, really, when his gaffer picked martin to be the captain of his team himself solely for martin’s extraordinary football iq.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

landed! can’t wait to see you! xx where are you?

“martin, baby,” martin jumped in his place, his phone almost fell off his hands, as the sultry voice he loved—and he discovered that he still loves it all the same—tried to lure him back to bed. “what are you doing? come back here,”

the pristine white sheet of the hotel slid down her chest as she sat up, beautiful in between the mess he made of her—her now-tangled hair, purple spots down her neck and chest, red marks down her arms and thighs—and martin’s heart broke into two. one at the revelation at how much he’d missed this sight of her, the other at the fact he needed to leave this behind because he still had you to come back to.

you, who’d been waiting for him at the airport for two hours now, because he forgot about picking you up from your business trip. something he never did during the time you both spent together.

you, who would be waiting for him in his house later, ready to spill everything you went through during your business trip, because you know martin was a good listener and never a judgemental one. because you know martin would always have your back.

you, who had loved him before his name, who have loved him through the calm and the storm of a football season, who always love him no matter wins or loses, and who promises to always love him through thins and thicks.

something came up at the training ground. I’m sorry I can’t pick you up myself.

martin’s heart plopped down the plush carpet as he pressed send, for reasons he didn’t want to acknowledge right now. not when a pair of arms managed to snake its way to his waist, eliminating the distance between martin and her in no time and they were now skin to skin, and good lord, was it not satisfying to have no barrier between them.

martin’s heart plopped down to the deepest part of hell, perhaps, when he felt his phone vibrated in his hand—the one that wasn’t busy moulding his body to fit the vixen in his arms—and saw the immediate response you replied him with.

alright, good luck with that. see you at home! xx

you, whose love martin had betrayed. consciously so.

“do you still love her?” was the question the woman martin believed as siren incarnated, fired off as soon as she saw him dressing up, ready to leave her behind in this luxury confinement they called five-star hotel.

brave, martin got to give her that. it was the very question martin kept asking himself as he laid awake last night, facing the ceiling while listening to the sound of her gentle breathing, tickling against the skin just an inch from his pecks. her flimsy finger was ghosting yet so palpable, just like your existence—resting there waiting to be acknowledged, like the elephant in the room.

funny how it was his favourite position of yours since the first night you slept together, for it reminded him of her touch, the very touch he’d lost because she was a selfish human being.

yet, martin was currently the one selfish beyond possible combination of words.

but somehow, martin was even braver for responding her when he himself wasn’t sure he could answer his own question.

“I’d be lying if I say I don’t, søta,” he donned his jacket before he leaned down, claiming her lips once more—for what, he didn’t know. to satisfy himself? to soothe the impending thirst that’d been building up unknowingly since she left him? to boost his confidence and justify himself that he was about to do the right thing? “and probably a part of me always will.”

the woman frowned in the way martin was supposed to hate her—she was the reason he’d grown to hate frowny, clingy women—but instead, he shot down a well-placed kiss that she reciprocated in the same fervour, obvious to tell him that she didn’t like sharing. her hands pulled him down further the bed, trying to lull him back to her arms, just like siren personified, and martin laughed in between their heated exchange.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“what if you never come back?” the woman refused to let go of him, hugging him tightly like a koala to his tree. “what if you suddenly realise you love her more?”

“it’s clear to see I don’t love her that much anymore, no?” martin swept the brown locks that reminded him of milky chocolate fondue. sweet, silky, smelt as nice as it looked, as he plucked off one of the peony petals he’d showered her with. “not enough to make me stay with her, anyway.”

martin even surprised himself by saying such words. he didn’t know he was capable of that, he didn’t know how he could have it in him. but if he thought that was surprising, he certainly wouldn’t hold a candle against himself for the things he did—or maybe, had done—to you.

you, whose entire world martin shattered. consciously so, since the moment you parted yourself from the embrace you enveloped him with but whose warmth wasn’t returned.

“what’s wrong?”

he knew it wasn’t easy. it was never easy to be with you since the very beginning anyway—you gathering his broken pieces, you swiping off all of his insecurities and assuring him that you’d wait for him till he wiped off all traces of her, you hiding off your identity so you wouldn’t drag him down in any way possible—but martin didn’t expect them to be very difficult, disclosing all his sins and admitting his faults.

admitting she wasn’t the only one in his heart.

worse, admitting she was never the only one since the start.

“was the emergency that bad at work?”

martin wanted to scream at her, telling her off that she wasn’t supposed to think the better of him, not after everything he’d done to her and their relationship. martin wanted to scream at her, telling her to be the bad guy for once for putting herself first. martin wanted to scream at her, telling her to live happily without him because she didn’t deserve him.

“don’t look at me like that, martin,” your eyes were as clear as always, and martin’s heart broke once more for you and every of the emotions displayed in your eyes. you were scared of him, of how cold he was being around you, and martin’s heart broke because you had been nothing but warm to him. “what’s wrong?”

you didn’t look any different to him at that moment, still lovable and looked very much like his, in every sense of the word. yet he was no longer yours, in every sense of the word. that was what went wrong.

“nothing,” martin acted the way the word implied. martin acted like nothing was wrong, as he kissed the top of your head and slid his hand into yours. “how was your trip?”

“I just wish you were there,” other days, your words would warm him up—the way your presence always succeeded to—but today, as you didn’t grasp back his hand, you meant every single word that escaped your mouth. “too bad, you know?”

too bad, indeed, my love. what if you stayed? what if she wasn’t here? martin thought inwardly as he poured the risotto he was making.

too bad, indeed, my love. because you’re gone already the moment you come home. you thought inwardly as you received the only dish he’d serve you by far because cooking had always been your thing.

too bad, indeed, as the risotto started turning as cold as the long withstanding iceberg in the form of white marble countertop separating you two. too bad, indeed, as the risotto was beyond salvageable even if you tried resurrecting it with every kind of heat earth could produce.

but neither of you moved, so different to the silent dance you both had been doing around the room. yet everything around you two was as loud as obnoxious bunch of drunkards watching the netflix show playing in your living room.

“you know I love you, right?”

the deep breath he let out indicated everything but, and you had never felt so alone in a room full of him. you were left alone, behind a four-wall full of him—his scent, his words, his voice—with nothing but abundance of confusion in your hands. it was, more often than not, your job to declare you love to him, instead of the other way around like this, so what changed?

“I love you,” yet martin couldn’t look straight into your eyes. “but I’m sorry.”

the confusion in your eyes were still evident and martin’s heart broke for you once more because he knew you didn’t deserve any of this. of him, of what he did, of how he’d been treating you. a small doubt crept in for a millisecond—what if he could fix this?—but he buried them down once more because you deserved this from him, an ending as respectable as you are.

“I love you too.”

no, no, you don’t get to say that. you’re not supposed to say that. you were supposed to throw him a thousand questions why he said sorry to you, contradicting his rather fake declaration of love for you.

“I forgive you.”

martin’s head had never snapped that fast, this time it was him that couldn’t hide his bewilderment. of all scenarios he had in his head, what you just did was never in his card. “you don’t know what I did.”

“I don’t care,” you squared your shoulders, and martin knew you meant your words then. you were so full of love and compassion, and it was why martin decided to forget her to be with you, but now martin wanted to run away for how hard life had come to bite his ass. “I love you. I forgive you.”

“I slept with another person,” and he noticed the slight tremble on those strong shoulders that overcame you. there, he needed that. he needed you to know, to feel, to see reality. “I cheated on you. I want to say that I’m sorry every time and every chance I can but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

you had gone through the worst obstacles there was on this earth—tower of terror, skydiving at palm jumeirah, being struck by lightning. you had gone through even worse obstacles—you’d seen your parents divorced before your eyes, you’d seen your friend took his life in front of you. yet nothing was as painful as the joke martin just threw in your face. you could even brave yourself for a guillotine if given the chance.

anything but the lemon your boyfriend just handed over your open wound. clean-cut and straight to the point.

“you said you love me.”

“I do,” martin replied immediately, as if he was sure of it. as if he was sure that loving you was the right thing to do when he’d just committed the wrong thing to do. “that’s why I’m sorry I did what I did.”

“with who?”

“you don’t want to know who.”

but with martin’s answer, it didn’t take you another second to figure out the woman in question. and you regretted asking immediately because you knew it’d be better if you didn’t know. you could even truly forgive him for what he did, as long as it wasn’t her. knowing who the partypooper was always a better option, because not being able to place a face to a name was always better.

but now you knew about it, and you didn’t have time to save your fragile heart from a heavy rain of sharp knives, endlessly stabbing your open wound to enlarge it even more, giving space for another knife to launch itself to a bleeding heart. you didn’t have time to hide your pain, as tears slowly escaped your eyes.

“why?” you gathered every of your remaining energy to sound brave as you faced your losing battle. “what did I do wrong?”

you needed to know because you’d been doing only the right thing. nothing less than perfect for your boyfriend.

martin wanted to know too because you’d been nothing short of what he needed.

“I’m sorry,” you stopped yourself when martin didn’t give you a response, then you gathered yourself again as you reciprocated his strong gaze. as best as you could anyway. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough—”

“no, no—”

“tell me what I can do to fix this, martin,” you pursed your lips, holding back the tears left unshed. “we can still fix this. just… please don’t leave me.”

“please don’t do this…” martin sighed because while he knew you’d always fight for what you believe in, he didn’t know it would bring him a big boomerang instead. “I’ve hurt you. staying with me will hurt you more and that’s the last thing I want for you.”

but that was the last straw for you, the look on his face. he spared you a look of sympathy, an emotion you rather detested because you weren’t a charity case. so you cried, this time not because of the lost cause in your relationship. you cried for yourself, because while you were displaying your desperate frustrations to amend the broken bridges, you addressed such wave of emotion to the wrong person.

“what did I do wrong?”

“it’s not you,” martin wanted to hug you—he still hated seeing you cry—but he knew it wasn’t his place anymore to comfort you. he’d deprived himself of the exclusive right in lieu of another set of different luxurious rights. “it’s never your fault.”

but martin never said it was his, either.

#oh-saints writes #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard imagines #martin odegaard blurbs #martin odegaard drabbles #martin odegaard angst #martin odegaard x you #martin odegaard x y/n #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard drabble #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard fics #martin odegaard fanfic #footie fics #footballer x you

[neymarsangel]

North London Forever - Martin Ødegaard x reader

Martin Ødegaard x female!reader

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

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff, angst, swearing

Word Count: 4K

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You: He’s leaving now x

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

You: Drive safely please x

Martin: Always love x 

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

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

“And smiling like an idiot at it?” 

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

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

“Be safe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think that’s a good idea?”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not a stupid rivalry -”

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

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

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

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

“You have mentioned it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad I-” 

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

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

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

“Dad please-”

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

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

“Dad-”

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

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

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

“Can’t you see he’s using you?”

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

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

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

“Probably because he gets it all from you!”

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

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

“Because I knew you’d act like this.”

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

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

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

“You love him?”

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

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

“With me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve fucked up.”

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

“This isn’t your fault Martin.” 

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

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

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

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

“Deal.”

— 

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

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

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

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

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

“Nope.” 

“Do you plan on it?”

“After Christmas.”

“Is it…?”

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

“y/n this is all -”

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

“Were you expecting anyone?” You asked. 

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

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

“Brilliant.”

“Is she inside?”

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

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

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

“y/n…”

“Hello, Dad.” 

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

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

“I’m so sorry.” Your Dad repeated. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watch it, Ødegaard.” 

#football imagine #football x reader #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard x you #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard smut #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard angst #football x y/n #football fanfic #football #martin odegaard #arsenal x reader

[julianalvarez9]

turning red / martin ødegaard

request: i guess kind of like the youtube fics you did- an it girl of sorts (and long time arsenal fan, or chelsea to make it interesting) slowly revealing her relationship online with martin ødegaard

author's note: these are my favourites to make 😭 hope you like it too!!

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yourusername back at my favourite place 🏟️

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masonmount interviewing me? i already knew

yourusername i prefer christian honestly, he gives better answers

cmpulisic my favorite interviewer 💙 yourusername

kaihavertz29 when is it my turn?

benchilwell get in line mate

user1 ødegaard.98 what are you doing here go away

yourusername

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yourusername this weekend was definitely something

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user1 WHO'S THAT

user2 LAST SLIDE HELLO?????

masonmount not you posting me AND your sneaky link in the same post

cmpulisic disrespectful

yourusername i don't know what you're talking about

kaihavertz29 i see you. don't you dare.

yourusername

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yourusername took enemies to lovers a bit too seriously

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cmpulisic i'll be waiting for you at stamford with a "welcome home cheater" sign

yourusername excuse me sir i'm still chelsea through and through

odegaard.98 sadly

masonmount if you hurt her i'll break your knees odegaard.98

kaihavertz29 and arms

odegaard.98 it won't be necessary

yourusername you're scaring him masonmount kaihavertz29

kepaarrizabalaga that's the goal

#football instagram au #football x reader #football x y/n #football imagine #football social media au #martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard x you #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagine

[gabigabigabby]

burning wheel | m. ødegaard

martin ødegaard x haaland!reader

ft. erling haaland

synopsis: martin invites you and erling to arsenal's brand new training compound

a/n: this is a weird ass dream. but martin and erling were in it so it's not so bad

warnings/content: erling probably receiving second-degree burns idk, cocky!martin bc i love writing him, and cocky!erling too ig, dialogue in norwegian, not proofread, lmk if i missed out anything! 🫶🏽

—

the initial offer was to have you and erling walk around the arsenal's brand new training facility. martin did mention that this time, the facility is not like any other facility you have visited. he was definitely talking about the etihad campus, which you spend most of your time in because of erling.

there is a goddamn go-karting track here! martin's text to you read.

this child, you thought to yourself the minute you read his text. martin had asked you to invite erling as well, so you texted him your plans for the afternoon. erling replied with a nonchalant i'm down before you send him the address of the brand new arsenal training facility.

upon arrival, martin had excitedly began waiting for you at the front doors. you come driving in first, erling pulling into the wide — and empty — parking lot minutes after.

"tell me about this karting track you have." erling's voices booms through your eardrums, martin glaring at his adamant nature.

"it's down this way," martin begins leading you and your brother down a ramp before turning a left corner. "this has got to be the biggest karting track i've driven at."

to you, it seemed like a standard sized karting track, almost as big as the paul ricard circuit, located just outside of monaco — but you kept quiet. "choose your karts, guys, let's go on a drive before dinner." martin decides as he grabs a helmet before hopping in a red kart.

"which color kart you want?" erling asks, grabbing a helmet for you, then himself. you point at and walk towards the orange one as he settles himself in a blue one. before you could even warm up the brakes and engine of your kart, martin, followed by erling, had already zoomed forward and proceeding into the circuit.

you'd learned to always warm your brakes and the engine before driving — too much formula 1, you think to yourself. once you assume the engine right under your seat had warmed, you push the clutch as the kart begins to accelerate slowly. as you do so, you test the brakes. once the brakes were warmed up to your liking, you proceed into the circuit, hoping the two other norwegians haven't driven far.

you drive the course, secretly wishing it was bigger than you'd expected. not that it wasn't a difficult course — the obstacles were so-so — but it could've been better. arsenal have so much money and can only come up with this? you'd thought. you continue driving, slowly picking up the pace bit by bit, before you finally are on erling's tail.

"took you long enough, lillesøster!" erling cries ahead of you. [baby sister]

"irriterende." you glare, pushing on the clutch harder than before, which allowed you to drop erling's jaw as he eats your dust this time. this time, you are right on martin's tail, and lucky for you, martin has no idea you are now right behind him. [annoying]

soon enough, you'd gained enough momentum to be wheel-to-wheel with martin's kart. your sudden ascent to be by his side took him by surprise which made him swerve left and right. lucky for you, you had managed to drive ahead before he did so. from all the formula 1 you've watched, going wheel-to-wheel isn't going to be good for either you or martin.

unbeknownst to you, erling had found a shortcut that will put him right in front of you and martin. your jaw was on the floor when you saw him make the turn on the outside, taking his place before you. erling had begun to feel sorry for you, so he didn't bother to cross the line. though martin had passed the checkered flag, he still sped down the straight, when you and erling — who maintained his pace ahead of you because like it or not, he wasn't going to win this war — had already started to press on the brake.

erling still finished before you, as you notice his kart start to catch fire from the drag. you jump off your kart, running over to your brother and pulling him away from the remains of the kart.

"er du ok, bror?" your worried tone smoothly slides into his ears, his eyes finding yours. [are you okay, brother?]

"ja, helt fint, takk," erling brushes off his shoulders of the track debris. "hvor er den lille gutteleken din?" [yeah, just fine, thanks. where's your tiny boy toy?]

from your peripheral vision, you see a kart slowly drive backward as if it was in the process of parking, coming closer to you and erling. you head gestures towards the kart, answering erling's question.

"there's a podium there," martin begins as you approach him. "you know, if you want to live your kimi räikkönen dream."

"ayrton senna, thank you very much." you correct him.

"sounds about right, since he rarely finished first." martin teases, knowing you'd get defensive about it so he runs up the podium steps before you could react.

you step on the number three podium, erling taking p2 and martin taking p1. somehow, erling managed to get his kart on the podium next to him. you shrug, realising your brother is a literal viking, and if he could haul a grown bernardo with just one arm as easily as holding a newborn, what is a kart to him?

martin began waving to an invisible crowd. "who do you think you are, mati, seriously?" you scoff.

"max verstappen, of course," martin replies matter-of-factly. "you are lando norris," his finger wags at erling on the second podium on his right, then you on his left. "and you are sir lewis hamilton."

you were about to protest, but then you shrug it off. you'd die to be sir lewis hamilton, even just for a day. as you drift off into your world of imagination, you hear sparks begin to erupt on your right. erling's kart was slowly sparking. just as you thought you heard. a spark finally shoots into erling's waist, which shot him down.

huh. you never thought a little spark could bring down big mighty erling. you had to find martin's eyes, is he seeing the same thing? he is and he did.

unclasping your helmet, you turn to your brother with your hand reached out before him. his ego didn't let him ignore it this time as it usually does. erling shoves his hand out to you for a congratulatory shake. "good game, min bror." you grin, taking his hand. [my brother]

"du også, gutt," erling raises his head, glaring confidently at you through his eyelashes. "now let's go to dinner and forget that ever happened." [you too, kid]

#martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard x reader #martin odegaard x reader #mø8 #mo8 #arsenal #arsenal fc #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #erling haaland #erling haaland x reader #man city #manchester city #mci #mcfc #football

[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.

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

[kierantierney3]

Hello, can I please request a martin odegaard x footballer social media au where he is absolutely whipped for her. thank you in advance and I hope you have a great day/night 🤍

Face claims: Leah Williamson plz

Hi. Thank you for your request! :) Hope you like it.

Masterlist

Face claim Leah Williams

Video i used: https://football.gui.de.com/video/odegaard-and-ramsdale-attempt-magic-tricks-🪄😮/

————————

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California

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yourusername LA 🏝️

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user Her and Martin in LA?

^user Martin is there for pre season tho^

user Last picture? Absolute vibe.

martinødegaard story

yourusername story

martinødegaard

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martinødegaard Happy birthday to my love ❤️My favourite number 6.

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aaronramsdale Happy birthday y/n

^yourusername Thank you Aaron 🙏🏻^

yourusername 💋💋💋

user First picture is a mood

user Does that mean she flew out so she was able to celebrate with Martin?

^user There was a rumour that came out that Martin flew her over so he was able to celebrate her birthday with her^

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yourusername Another year of me! ❤️ Celebrate it with my favourite person 💋

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bethmead_ HB queen

martinødegaard Favourite person huh? 🤣❤️

user ��Celebrating with my favourite person” I’m crying

bukayosaka87 Happy birthday y/n

user I love this couple so much

——

Most pictures are either found on instagram or Pinterest.

I make my twitter tweets off tweet gen then it has a couple different settings to make the tweets.

I also went a little different to how i would normally set up my instagram au.

#football #arsenal #footballer #football imagines #football imagine #arsenal football club #footballers #football x reader #martin ødegaard #martin ødegaard imagines #martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard x reader #arsenal imagines #instagram #instagram au

[tierneysodegaard]

Happy Little Accident - Martin  Ødegaard x female!reader

Martin Ødegaard x female!reader 

Requested: Yes/No

Anon: can we have another martin Odegaard imagine about him being a dad, or the whole pregnancy process and how he is because he would be SOO SOFT

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy??? Brief descriptions of childbirth, fluff

---

You and Martin had been together for a few years now, the pair of you now living in London as he played for Arsenal, finally falling in love with football again with his new team. You’d met his entire family and he’d met yours, although the pair of you were young you were both serious about what you had with one another. And even though you knew he would never leave you and he wanted to be with you for the rest, so why were you sitting in the bathroom panicking at the sight of a positive pregnancy test?

Martin and you had briefly spoken about children, he mentioned it over dinner one time which caught you off guard. He wanted kids but always told you if you didn’t want children that was fine and you wouldn’t have them. Martin’s view on it was that you would be the one carrying the child for nine months and then be the one who had to stay home all the time because of his job, not to mention if Arsenal get top four they would have more games and be travelling throughout Europe which meant Martin would have less time with you. 

The baby wasn’t planned, you would have liked to wait for a few more years but what is meant to be will be and this was evidently one of these times. You had woken up for the past few days feeling under the weather, thankfully Martin always left for work before the sickness came up meaning he wouldn’t have the slightest thought that you were pregnant as by the time he came back you were feeling fine. 

The results were there, clear as anything. Two red lines indicating that you were in fact pregnant. You took your phone out and checked the time, Martin wasn’t due home for another few hours. You knew you had to tell him sooner rather than later, the anxiety alone was killing you. You had an idea on how to tell him, you just needed to get the things before he got home. Hiding the test in the bathroom cupboard you grabbed your keys and headed out to your car and into town. 

You managed to find an Arsenal football but in a smaller size. You knew the Arsenal store sold them but if you went in there and someone saw you, word would more than likely spread rather fast that Martin Odegaard’s girlfriend was buying a child’s size football despite not having a child and you’d rather Martin found out from you than a random fan. Thankfully some of the smaller shops in town were doing them and probably for a cheaper price. You managed to find a small rectangular box that would fit the pregnancy test in and a small present bag to place everything in. 

At home you wrote a note on the box saying “Soon you’ll have someone to play against.” before putting it at the bottom of the bag and placing the football on top. He was due home any minute now. Every second felt like an hour, most days he got home rather fast but today it felt like he was purposely taking his time, almost like he knew you wanted him home. 

Placing the bag on the kitchen counter you began to make dinner, trying to take your mind off everything that was happening around you. You still didn’t know why you were worried, Martin was the sweetest man you’d ever met and you knew he wouldn’t be annoyed or leave you, if anything he’d be over the moon.

“y/n I’m home!” Marin called out, clearly not expecting you to be in the kitchen. His eyes met yours as you turned around and gave him a smile. He came up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, placing his head on your shoulder as he mumbled into your neck. “How are you feeling beautiful?” 

“Better thank you.” You tilted your head onto his, smiling. “How was training?” 

“Good thank you, I think we can get top 4, I really do.” He moved his head back, planting a kiss on the side of your head, his arms still draped around you. He turned his head back slightly, looking at the bag on the kitchen table as he furrowed his brows. 

“Is it someone’s birthday?” He turned to look at you. “One of your friends?” His eyes went wide. “Oh fuck who was it? Who did I forget?” 

His state made you laugh a little, settling the anxiety slightly. “No, it’s for you.”

“For me?” He took a step towards it. “But it’s not my birthday?”

“I gathered that.” Turning off the stove you turned to look at him. “Open it.” 

Taking the bag in his hands he looked inside and pulled out the football. “Why did you get me this? We have tons… this is like a child's ball…” Clearly not connecting the dots you gave him a small smile. 

“Keep going.” 

He looked down and pulled out the box, reading the note aloud. “Soon you’ll have someone to play against.” His head snapped up, looking at you with disbelief. “Are you?”

“Open the box.” 

Martin put the note down and took the box in his hand. Taking off the lif gently his eyes widened at the sight of the positive pregnancy test that was now in his hand. “Are you being serious?”

“If I’ve calculated it right I should be coming up to about eight weeks now, that’s why I’ve felt so ill recently.”

Martin put the test down, a massive grin started to glow on his face. He walked over to you, his arms wide as he pulled you into his chest. “We’re having a baby!” He pulled back and cupped your face, looking deep into your eyes before planting a kiss on your lips. When he pulled back he frowned at the way your eyes started to well up with tears. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“I was so scared to tell you -”

“Why baby?”

“We’re still young Martin what if you didn’t want that and -”

“Darling,” He stepped closer, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “I am never going anywhere. I want a baby with you and yes I know we never planned it but I guess there’s some joy in that.” He gave you a loving glance. “Everything will be fine, I promise you. I will take time off work -”

“Martin the baby isn’t even here yet you don’t need to take time off work.” You smiled at his words. 

“I love you and,” He bent down so he was level with your stomach. “I love you too.”

“We both love you too.”

“Do you know what it is yet?” 

You smiled down at him as he lay his head against your stomach. “Martin, they're barely eight weeks yet, I haven’t even had a scan.” You laughed at his eagerness. “I’ll call the doctor tomorrow and I should get a scan at around ten to fourteen weeks and we’ll know if it’s a boy or girl at eighteen to twenty-one weeks.”

“Oh but that’s ages away!” He complained. 

“It’ll come around quicker than you think.”

“Does anyone else know?” He rose to his feet, placing his hand on your stomach as he kissed you once again. 

“Nope, just you. I was thinking we wait until we get the scan and then tell our family and friends.” 

“That’s fine by me although I don’t know how I’m going to keep it hidden from the boys.” 

“As long as you at least try and keep it quiet I don’t care but I’d rather my Mum find out from us rather than Aaron Ramsdale.” 

Four weeks later the pair of you were able to get your scan and you finally had a photo of your baby in your hands, everything was becoming a little more real. Martin managed to sneak away from work, he told Mikel you had a doctor's appointment that he needed to attend, technically he wasn't lying. He could go, trying his best to cover it up so none of the boys got too worried. 

Since getting the scan something in Martin changed, he was always a gentleman to you. He always brought you flowers every week, always opened your door when you got in the car, he would take you on as many dates as he possibly could, the man worshipped the very ground you walked on. Now Martin would sprint from one side of the house to the other if he heard that you were walking down the stairs or walking up to them, always holding your hand or arm whenever you took a step. 

One day he received rather a large Amazon package and when he got home he showed you what he’d ordered. The night before he had sat there and gone through every single parenting book he could find and ordered them so he could read and learn about what was taking place. 

Martin had invited his and your parents over for dinner and well, a little getaway as they both didn’t live in London. Martin could have waited until the international break but you would be seven months along at that point he was sure his mother would have killed him on the spot if he had hidden it from her for that long. 

You made copies of your scan and placed them all in separate envelopes, sitting them down on the table and allowing them all to open them together. Needless to say, your family was ecstatic with the news and so was Martin’s. He watched as his Mum and yours walked up tp you, pulling you into a hug with smiles of congratulations coming your way. The sight made him smile brightly, he didn’t know how he got so lucky. 

The months dragged on and the pair of you had now told the rest of your friends and family as well as the entire world. Martin and you had made an Instagram post announcing it to the world which meant every single time Martin turned up at training, Ben and Aaron would always bug him about who would be the fun uncle.

You were six months into your pregnancy and Martin and you were laying on the sofa, Martin laying on your legs so he could be close to your stomach as he read one of the parent books he’d ordered a while ago. “Did you know you can’t have a bath whilst you’re pregnant well you can but it can be dangerous if the water is too hot?”

You smiled at him, running a hand through his hair. “Why do you think I’ve been only having showers for the last six months?” 

“That’s insane, I’d die without one.”

“Good thing it’s not you carrying this baby then.” You rested your head back on the sofa, your eyes catching sight of the masses amounts of flowers he had bought you since you fell pregnant. Not to mention he’d bought you a ton of new dresses as he read somewhere that a lot of women prefer to wear dresses as the baby gets bigger. He also bought you new comfy tracksuits and prepared your hospital bag despite the baby being due just as the season finished. 

You’d gone out for dinner with your friends one night and came home to him painting one of the spare rooms that were set to be the baby's room. He had already set up the crib and had made a bookshelf for you to decorate whilst he was at work. He’d put together the wardrobe and other storage units for you and him to fill to the brim with baby's clothes. He was truly perfect. 

You continued to read your own book with Martin by your side but suddenly stopped when a blunt pain hit your stomach, you looked down to see limbs pressing against your skin. “Martin -” Your tone was a worried one but you were on the verge of tears with a bright smile. 

“What?” He sat up rather fast, looking at you worriedly, his fear only growing as he saw your tears. You grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach so he could feel the baby kick. His eyes lit up at the feeling, a smile brimming on his face.

“It’s definitely a boy.” You smiled. 

“You think so?”

“Kicks me as hard as his Dad kicks a ball.” Martin laughed, his hand soothing over your stomach as the baby settled down again. “You know we need to think of names soon.”

“We don’t even know if the baby is going to be a girl or boy yet.”

That was true. You were set to find out in the next coming days before Martin left to play for Norway. Your best friend knew you’d asked the nurse to write it on some paper and fold it up, on the way back from the hospital Martin put it through her letterbox and allowed her to plan the gender reveal for you both. 

“Well, we’ve only got a few more days until the gender reveal.”

“All the lads have put a bet on.”

“I’m sorry?”

“There’s a group bet with the lads if they think it’ll be a boy or a girl.” He laughed. “Ben thinks it’ll be a girl, Aaron is adamant it’ll be a boy and so does Kieran. Mikel thinks it’ll be a girl, so does Saka.” 

“Did they all bet?” You smiled back at him. 

“Every single last one of them, even some of the staff.”

“And what was the final verdict?”

“Most of them think it’ll be a boy.” 

“I think they may be right.” You soothed your stomach, smiling down at the way Martin did the same. 

“I disagree.” Martin looked at you. “I think it’s a girl.”

In the coming days, Martin found out that he was in fact wrong and you were right, the two of you were having a boy. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Martin was due to drive to the airport for international break. “They’ll have someone to step in -”

“Martin I will be fine.” You were at the start of your seventh month, sure things had gotten harder but you had family and friends around for support whilst he was away for two weeks. “I promise you.”

“I’ve written down my Mum’s number, Mikels number, he said he’d come over if you needed anything, the number for the doctor -”

“Martin,” You cupped his face. “I will be fine and so will the baby, if anything happens I will call you straight away, I promise.” 

“I’m just worried.” He leant into your touch. “It’s our first baby and you’re seven months pregnant, you’ll be on your own.”

“If it makes you feel any better I will call y/f/n when you leave and see if they’ll stay for the two weeks.” 

“Please let me know if they will.” He kissed you before resting his forehead on yours. “Please be safe y/n.”

“I will be Martin.” You pecked his lips. “We both will be.” 

Martin dropped to his knees and held your bump in his hands. “You better be good for your Mum.” He kissed the bump. “Don’t keep her up at night either.” He looked up at you. “I love you.”

“We love you too.” 

Needless to say, Martin was certainly not calm when he left. He would normally call or facetime you of an evening to say goodnight and to talk about your day but this time he was calling you about five times a day minimum. He would always ask how you were doing and if there was anything he could do despite being miles away. When he came back he wouldn’t let you out of his sight, he wouldn’t even let you go to the bathroom without him escorting you there. 

Two months later and you were due in the next coming days. Martin still had a match, he was set to be playing Man United and thankfully they were playing at home. He hated the away games now, worried something might happen to you whilst he was gone and he wouldn’t be able to get back in time. 

When you started to show the pair of you decided you wouldn’t attend any games until the baby came. Although you would be in his box and be safe there were still heavy crowds around in the foyer and he was always worried someone would accidentally knock you over or you would get overwhelmed. 

The game was set to start. Martin had sent you one last text asking if you were okay before leading the team out of the tunnel. Switching the tv on you grabbed yourself a glass of water and went to sit down when a sudden sharp pain shot through your stomach. Stumbling forward to the sofa you put your drink down before feeling another shot of pain. You looked down on the floor and saw a puddle of water, anyone who didn’t know any better would have thought you’d just spilt your drink whilst walking but the pains told another story. 

You were going into labour. 

“Shit…” You grabbed your phone and called y/b/f. There was no way Martin would answer, he was on a bloody pitch. You could try contacting someone at the Arsenal reception or at halftime but you couldn’t wait forty-five minutes for him, you needed him now. 

“Hello?” Y/b/f answered the phone, clearly much calmer than you. 

“How fast can you be here?” You tried to bite your tongue as the pain shot through you. 

“In ten minutes why?” They put the pieces together without you uttering a word. “OH MY GOD, IT’S HAPPENING!” You could hear them run around and get their keys. 

“Yes, it’s bloody happening!” You screamed back. “And of course, he decides to come when his Dad is on a bloody football pitch!”

“Don’t panic!” They screamed back. 

“A little easier said than done!”

“I’m leaving now!” 

“Please hurry up!” You hung up and went straight to Martin's contact. You quickly typed a text reading ‘When you see this please call me asap, I think I’m in labour x’ hoping he would answer it at halftime but unfortunately, Martin was too occupied with the thought of beating united to check his phone. 

“Have you tried calling the stadium itself?” You were currently in a gown, your arms on the window sill as you tried to calm yourself as the contractions kept coming. y/f/n was sitting in one of the chairs, desperately trying to get ahold of Martin. One of the midwives had come in and put the game on for you. Arsenal were winning which meant Martin wouldn’t get into the changing room fast as he’d be busy with fans, giving his shirt away as he walked around clapping and signing a few things occasionally. 

“You can do that?” y/f/n asked.

“Yes!” You grunted.”Call and tell them that you need an urgent message passed onto Martin Ødegaard, tell them his girlfriend is in labour and he needs to get here now!”

“Don’t worry I think I know what I’d say to them.” They muttered but you heard. You gave them a glare but they only smiled in return, dialling the number and hoping for an answer. They were silent for a while before they started to speak, indicating that they had gotten through. “Ah hello hey yes, hi, I am a friend of Martin Ødegaard, I need a message passed onto him right away please, his girlfriend has gone into labour and he needs to get here immediately.” 

“How are you doing sweetie?” A midwife came up behind you and placed her hand on your back. 

“It hurts.” You whined, tears pricking in your eyes. 

“I know angel I know, are you okay with laying down? I just need to check if you can push now.”

You nodded, looking over at y/f/n to see if they had any news on Martin. You walked over to the bed, with the help of the midwife they helped you lay back before checking you. Your eyes glanced at the game Xhaka had just scored to make it 3-1, you let out a small light smile, seeing Martin run over to the boys and celebrating with them. 

“You can start pushing now -”

“What?!” You snapped your head towards the midwife. “Already?”

“Yes honey, you can start pushing now -”

“No not without Martin.” Tears started to fall from your eyes. “Please I need Martin here.”

“They told me they’re going to pass the message onto Mikel, he should substitute Martin off and tell him the news and he’ll be here.” y/f/n walked over to your side. “Your parents are on their way and I called Martin’s they’re going to catch a flight as soon as they can.” They smoothed your hair down. “Martin will be here soon, you need to push.”

“She’s right.” The midwife offered a kind smile. “Just push and watch the game, you’ll see him leave and then you know he’ll be here soon.” 

You nodded and followed her instructions, trying not to break down as much as you already were. You just wanted him here, you refused to let him miss the birth of his child even if he was busy working. You had been pushing for a couple of minutes when the commentator announced a substitution. Martin looked confused at Artetas decision and also how quickly he was asking him to come off when normally at moments like this he was always told to take his time. 

Martin walked off, removing the armband and giving it to Laca but walking straight up to Mikel to ask why he was substituted. Mikel evidently told him what was happening because it a matter of seconds he had sprinted down into the tunnel and he was calling you.

“y/n?” He called down the phone. You could hear him starting up the car. 

“Martin please hurry.” You cried back, a groan falling from your lips. “Please!”

“It’s okay baby I’m on my way now I’ll be there in like ten minutes I promise.”

“You need to push again.” The midwife spoke. 

“No not without Martin please -”

“y/n please listen to me,” Martin spoke as he drove, hearing every single word from the other side of the phone. “You need to listen to them, okay? I will be there soon, I won’t miss it I promise you. Please, darling push, please.” 

His words made you cry even harder as you continued to push, You were praying he’d get here in time. You just hoped he didn’t get stuck in any traffic. “How are you feeling?” He kept talking, trying to make you calm. 

“It hurts Martin.”

“I know baby, but it will all be over soon.”

“I know, I know…” You huffed. “How far away are you?”

“You know those traffic lights on the corner by the flats? I’m there. I will be five minutes.”

“Hurry -”

“I am baby I am, when did it start?” 

“Just before the game started.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t check my phone, I’m so sorry -”

“You can apologise in person, please just get here.”

“I’m turning onto the road now, I just need to park.” He took a breath as he found a free spot. “Are you in the midwifery ward?”

“No Martin im in the X-ray ward where else would I bloody be?” You screamed. 

“You’re right that was a stupid question, I’m walking there now baby. I’ll speak to you soon.” He paused. “I love you y/n.”

“I love you too but I’ll love you even more if you get here.” 

“Noted I’m running there now.” He ended the phone and sprinted down the hallway, he didn’t even think he’d run this fast to get the ball. He nearly slipped as he stopped by your door, he threw the door open and met your watery gaze. 

Your eyes were bloodshot due to the number of tears you’d cried, and your cheeks were tear-stained and glowing with colour due to the pressure. He even smiled seeing the way your hair stuck to your forehead. Even though you were crying your eyes out and screaming at the top of your lungs he still thought you were the prettiest woman in the world. 

Martin didn’t waste a second as he ran over to you, still dressed in his football kit as the game was just finishing, he took your hand into his, the other going to play with your hair. “I’m here baby, I’m here.” He kissed your forehead. 

“Thank fuck for that.” You huffed, pushing yet again. 

“I’m so sorry -”

“Martin please stop apologising!”  You hissed. 

“You’re nearly there sweetie!” The midwife caught your attention. “One last push and your son will be here.”

“You’re doing so well,” Martin whispered words of praise to you as he kissed you again. “But please don’t squeeze my hand that hard you will break it.”

“Martin!” You spat through gritted teeth. “You can still play with a broken hand! I’m pushing a whole human out!”

“Yeah, you have a point.” He replied. 

Before you knew it your son was finally welcomed into the world and he was in your arms. The boy fell against your chest quickly quieting down at the soft voice of his mother. You smiled up at Martin who was now crying at the sight of you two. “You look so beautiful.” He wiped his tears away. 

“Do you want to hold him?”

“Of course, I want to hold him.” Martin smiled, holding his arms out as he took your newborn son in his arms. “Hey, little man.” He cooed. 

You let your head fall back, the feeling of sleep washing over you suddenly as you watched the two most important men in your life. “Are you happy?” You asked. 

“Darling the only time I’ll be happier is when I put a ring on your finger.” 

---

A/N: Thinking about doing a part 2 of this with Martin play football with his son and few years later ;)

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard imagines #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard imagine #arsenal #arsenal x reader #football imagine #football #footballl imagine #football x reader

[oh-saints]

more ødegaard fluff 🤲🤲🤲 anything really go ham there is a lack of ø fics :(

I FEEL THAT TOO people pls don't sleep on our norwegian barbie!! but ask therefore you shall receieve

(mildly based on his latest interview)

martin's never one crazy about video games; the only reason he bought playstation was because so he can play FIFA

he's always preferred board games or lego, or maybe computer game that's more or less to solve a mystery

he LOVES anything that requires his brain to solve a problem, including but not limited to learn something to achieve that

no wonder he's dubbed mini arteta

so when he grew up, no one's really surprised he's good at carpenting or woodwork like bob the builder can you fix it

and when he met you, who have a disturbing habit of buying a furniture when you're stressed but never assembling it, he KIND OF adopts it too

at first it was to hear whatever you're complaining about life while he helps you build the furniture, bcs you sure as hell can't do it for life

"kjær, talk to me instead of hurting that piece of wood. who makes you upset today?"

but now you sometimes HAVE TO COME AND HELP HIM when he builds an IKEA furniture of his own AND GOAD HIM TO TALK about anything while he's doing it

bcs god forbids if you don't

he doesn't exactly lash or throw the piece across the room BUT HE SURELY NAILS IT HARD AND LOUD ON PURPOSE

but it becomes your bonding activity every once a month to change some of your smaller furnitures

measuring the space, going to the shop to look for suitable pieces, bantering which one' better looking, stolen kisses between alleyways, have a munch afterwards before going home or have a takeouts on the floor while your incomplete work lies not far

like he wasn't one of the most popular norsk figure on earth

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #martin odegaard #martin ødegaard #martin odegaard blurb #martin odegaard blurbs #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagines #martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard oneshot #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard fics #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard fanfiction #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard smut #martin odegaard angst #martin odegaard x you #martin odegaard x y/n #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard x oc #oh-saints writes request

[footballerimaginess]

A-Z Alphabet Fic Series

This is a series I will be planning for September, probably not posted every day just some days throughout that month. Here are the players I have picked out, there are some empty spaces still. A - Andy Robertson B - Benjamin Pavard C - Christian Pulisic D - Darwin Nunez E - Eric Dier F - Joao Felix G - Antoine Griezmann H - Mats Hummels I - J - Jack Grealish K - Kostas Tsmikas L - Leon Goretzka M - Emi Martinez N - Reiss Nelson O - Martin Odegaard P - Pablo Torre Q - R - Reece James S - Son Heung Min T - Kieran Tierney U - V - W - Timo Werner X Y Z - Nicolo Zaniolo

#dunno what ill do for some random letters though

[julianalvarez9]

to love / martin ødegaard

request: hi! i love your social media fics. can you write another one for øde. singer reader (maybe faceclaim can be suki waterhouse) X martin can be good one

author's note: i don't really know much about suki so i kind of did what i wanted with what i had (? hope you like it either wayyy

summary: singer y/n y/ln rocks everyone's world when rumours spark about her newest relationship and latest muse, martin ødegaard.

yourusername

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yourusername stream coolest place in the world while you wait for i can't let go 🌈🧚🏻‍♀️

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user1 missy have you got anything to say? 👀

user2 you're the cutest thing ever 😭

user3 CAN'T WAIT FOR I CAN'T LET GO!!!

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yourusername

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yourusername stream good looking 😁

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user1 NO YOU DIDN'T

user2 YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!!!!

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yourusername london, you were as beautiful as always 🤍

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odegaard.98 ❤️

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yourusername you make it so easy to love ❤️‍🩹

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odegaard.98 kjære 🤍

erlinghaaland must be nice to have love songs written about you, huh?

#football imagines #football imagine #football x you #football x reader #martin ødegaard x reader #martin odegaard x reader #martin ødegaard imagine #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard x you #martin ødegaard x you

[oh-saints]

MISS YOU

everyone's been saying long distance relationship sucks. but no one tells freja how much harder it is when your boyfriend is a high-profile footballer playing for real madrid.

martin odegaard x press!OC

word count: 2k

tw: not beta-read and spanish by gtranslate. other than that, none except martin being the best boyfriend

note: a little bonus bcs arsenal finally won against liverpool with martin being the centre of the attacks so he deserves this as much as we do, no?

“hola, mi amor,” it didn’t even take freja a second to relax into her favourite sound in the world; it was why she called him in the beginning. she felt like her head could explode anytime soon without hearing it. “esta bien?”

“para nada,” she sighed deeply, tears swelling up at the back of her eyelid but she held it in, not wanting to add more worry to his life. “i miss you so much, martin.”

“ya tambien, querida. ya tambien…” although they weren’t on a video call, freja knew martin had somehow sensed her breakdown over the line. “you know i can always come and visit you anytime. you just have to say the word.”

that was, in fact, true.

being in a long-distance relationship between madrid and london was never going to be an easy feat, they had known that from the get-go. they were doing everything in their power to make it bearable for both of them because let’s be honest, having a footballer with unusual schedule of working as your boyfriend took the difficulty level to a whole new level.

despite the reality of playing regular football not going martin’s way so far, freja insisted to be the one flying in and out of the capital of spain every chance she got—mostly twice a month—knowing martin could be called to play for the first team anytime. besides, martin missing a training session could significantly jeopardize everything he’s worked hard for, she didn’t want to put more pressure to his shoulder.

freja chuckled to lighten the mood. “if i have you here, all to myself, i don’t think i can send you back to madrid.”

“what if i don’t want you to send me back?”

when you work around the creative world, you’d know for a fact that you won’t have a specific, fixed timeline of work. all you know is the deadline of an event, and being in the fantastic media team for london fashion week means you’d give up almost all of your day off when christmas day and new year’s coming closer, in order to make sure the biggest weekend of london fashion scene went well covered—all three; pre, during, and post event.

if freja wasn’t buried between her editing tools, she’d be stuck in a meeting room, brainstorming all the idea to increase the attention and engagement around london fashion week. she could only thank god she wasn’t in the press team, or else she’d break her neck and bones running about literally everywhere to cover the whole event—red carpets, inside scoops of attending guests, after parties, and so on…

only when the government publicly announced they’d take the extreme measures for the covid outbreak, did freja have the chance to breathe in the fresh air of freedom from endless media works, albeit harbouring a tang of sadness for the sole fact that all of her hard work so far wouldn’t be showcased for the entire world to see.

but had it not for the emergency break pulled, freja wouldn’t have had the chance to look at the latest news, including but not limited to football’s biggest day of the month; winter transfer window deadline.

Real Madrid’s Martin Ødegaard in talk to join Arsenal on loan!

no way.

freja had only been speaking to martin last night over the phone, her talking about the nation-wide lockdown frenzy in the UK and him talking about his usual daily routine while coping with the same unfortunate pandemic in spain. he didn’t mention anything about being offered another loan deal, nor was any change in circumstances under zidane. ever since coming back home from his spell from real sociedad, the president of real madrid was reluctant to let him go to another club again, knowing the potent he could bring to the enemy team if he left but zidane considered him a player not suitable for his style of management. nothing unusual, really.

maybe because it’s still in discussion… freja calmed herself down.

she was feeling all sorts of things, good and bad, and it was giving her headache already. she was excited they’d be in the same city again if the deal passed through, of course, but she was also frustrated at the thought martin had to go on another loan instead of bagging some game time—they promised him that much, should he return to the club after a stellar season in real sociedad. for god’s sake, he could’ve been highlighting the young player award somewhere instead of being hindered in development by his own club.

she wanted to see him succeed in real madrid, she really did. he believed—and she knew—he had what it took to break through the scene, not everyone was called to their national team before they turned 16. and with the way real madrid always put up an adamant fight every time another club asked for martin’s signature on a permanent contract, she was quite positive about it.

was being the operative word here, now. almost seven years in, and no signs of martin playing regular team. not even as a benchwarmer.

as much as freja wanted him all for herself—knowing they were both the happiest last year when martin was playing week in and out for real sociedad and freja was working for the local tourism campaign—she didn’t want to get her hopes high this time, for the expectation always kills.

martin will tell when things get seriously serious, right?

are you seriously joining arsenal?

or at least, considering it?

freja sent the text without hoping immediate reply. considering the current time in madrid, she predicted martin would only see her text after he was done with training and everything entitled to it. she’d get the reply sometimes around dinner time here, that was being the earliest, so she decided to soak in the rare benefit of having a week off by picking up the books she’d bought but never had the chance to read them yet.

“¿dónde estás? are you outside?”

“yeah, i need to stock up some necessities,” freja answered over her airpods as she shoved all of her necessities to the shopping bag. “you know, with the lockdown around the corner and all. are you done for the day?”

“i hope you stock my favourite cereals,” and freja froze on her place. could it be…? “so you won’t forget about my little habits while we’re apart.”

freja released the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“i hate that i can’t see you for god knows how long this time,” freja smiled bittersweetly at that, the feeling was mutual on her side of the house. she wished she could’ve watched his expression when he said that, though. martin must’ve pulled out a pout that reminded her of olaf from the frozen series. “ya te extraño mucho, amor mio.”

“yo también siento lo mismo, martin,” oh, fuck london and its weather… freja cursed deep down. it was fine less than an hour ago and the weather forecast didn’t say anything about snow today. almost half a year in this unpredictable weather and freja still didn’t learn her lesson, now she had to brave the cold with only her casual loungewear of sweater and legging. “it’s such a shame that i didn’t have time to book a flight back to madrid before the government halts all flight.”

“i can always fly you out, remember?”

“and have the private jet all to myself?” freja screeched, both at the lonely thought and at the feeling snow falling against her legs. “no, thanks! but babe, i’ll call you later, yeah? it’s suddenly snowing here.”

“you really should’ve worn something warmer, kjære. you’ll catch a cold if you pull on thin layers like that,” if the first sentence wasn’t enough to stop freja’s steps, the second surely did. “i thought i could trust you looking after yourself.”

“how do you know what i’m wearing?”

“because i’ve been standing here and waiting for you to come out,” freja jumped at the extra clothes being draped over herself from behind. turning around and there he was, in flesh and blood, his golden locks looking unbelievably good in contrast to the white snow. “i’m starting to feel cold, too, you know?”

gone was the intense frost stinging her skin—heck, her brain went into malfunction as soon as martin showed up in front of her. she wanted to hug him immediately but was thinking this was some sort of delirium—was she suffering hypothermia already? her tongue was ticklish with so many questions of how directed to her boyfriend but her tear glands were so close to shedding tears of happiness.

“cat got your tongue somewhere, darling?” martin laughed at the endearing sight of his girlfriend going into an overwhelmed mode—a rare one, at that as well, knowing well that his girlfriend was one of those people who always had something to say in return. “am i not getting a hug? or are you not pleased i’m here?”

“how—” martin could see she was still digesting the reality that was closer to her dream, in one way or another, by the way those lovely eyes kept blinking rapidly. “i don’t get it. what are you doing here?”

martin’s smile widened at her speechless state. “why, can’t i see my girlfriend? i thought you missed me?”

“i do, i really do! don’t get me wrong,” freja shook her head in disbelief. “but what about your trainings? you’re not going on a strike, are you? because i don’t want perez to have my head—”

“i accepted arsenal’s proposal to be closer to you but you want me stay in madrid instead?”

“well, you said it yourself—wait, what?”

martin couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably at his girlfriend’s shocked expression. freja was one of those people who is rarely fazed by anything that comes her way, probably the biggest reason why martin loves being around her at the first place. none of the whole ‘real madrid’s most valuable gem’ status the media plastered on him got into her head. to have her in this state was amusing to him that he went straight to embrace her first, instead of freja’s usual initiation for skin ship.

“it’s a done deal, i’m doing the whole medical and media duty tomorrow,” martin breathed against her hair, this time in relief because he could finally let the cat out of the bag. it’d been pretty hard to lay it low, especially to surprise your girlfriend, with whom you share very much everything on daily basis. “i want you to know this from me first, instead of the media.”

freja pulled away from martin’s grasp, to scan through his face for any sign of deception. “you’re staying here?”

“how else am i supposed to play every weekend if i’m not staying here?” martin chuckled at his girlfriend’s antics, so cute he just wanted to mash those cheeks of her—which was exactly what he did. it was a wonder how he survived almost six months deprived of his daily stress-reliever ball when all he wanted to have her snuggled close in his arms every day she was away. “i hope you have a spare room in your flat.”

freja couldn’t help herself any longer at the feeling of martin’s hands on her cheeks, she stood up on her toes to kiss the one thing she could call her home. his coat be damned, she was becoming warm all over the body from the excitement and happiness bubbling up inside of her, threatening to explode if martin hadn’t sealed her lips from squealing by reciprocating her kiss.

“oh, shut it, olaf,” martin laughed at his girlfriend’s unique moniker for him and freja could only come back to claim his lips once more because good lord, that was the laugh she fell in love with. one she hadn’t had the privilege to hear live for the past six months due to the distance and due to the pressure their respective occupations gave them. “as if we haven’t shared a bed together.”

#martin ødegaard #martin odegaard #martin odegaard fic #martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard fluff #martin odegaard fanfic #martin odegaard short fic #martin odegaard imagines #oh-saints writes #martin odegaard fics #martin odegaard angst #martin odegaaed smut #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard x y/n

[gabigabigabby]

20 questions | m. ødegaard

martin ødegaard x fem!reader

a/n: okay prettiest norwegian i've ever seen in my life (don't tell erling). he's very boyfriend material and i had fun writing this. wanna clarify that y/n is a uk-born brazilian! y/n's nickname for martin is 'mati'. this might be a little short (i ran out of questions LMAO). enjoy lads! ⭐️

synopsis: you and martin join gq in doing the famous '20 questions' video on yt

—

cameras are ready to shoot as you sit yourself next to martin. "do i look okay?" you turn to your right and ask him.

"no, you look like shit." martin jokes, looking up from his phone at you for a split second and back down.

"thanks," sarcasm laces your tone as you glare playfully at him. the guys behind the camera exchange those is he for real? glances with each other. "oh, no. he always does that. it's an inside joke." you explain, and the guys finally relax their facial muscles.

"cameras are rolling," the main camera guy announces. martin puts away his phone and straightens his posture. "and go."

"hi! i'm y/n y/l/n." you introduce yourself.

"and i'm arsenal's martin ødegaard," martin does the same. "we're here with gq today and we're gonna ask each other 20 questions. let's get on with it!"

you were told to ask martin the first question. "martin?"

"yes, darlin'?"

"where was i born?" you grin to yourself as martin wracks through his brain.

"uhhh, you were born in... manchester, england. but you were raised in rio, brazil." he answers.

"correta," you cheer in portuguese. "i'm an english-born brazilian. my mom is brazilian and my dad is english." [correct.]

"that's right," martin confirms. "where was i born?"

"you," you pause. "were born in... drammen, norway."

"that's right." he smiles.

"to be honest with you, i have zero clue where that is. the only place i know in norway is oslo."

"well, now that's just mental, y/n," martin scoffs. "all those nights i showed you how each city looks like? what was that?"

"mati, i got bored! and sleepy!" you argue.

"i can't believe you." martin shakes his head in false disappointment.

"what was my favorite football club growing up?" you ask the next question.

this time, martin took a little bit longer to respond. "i don't wanna be biased but... arsenal." he looks into the camera with a cocky, knowing look.

"wrong!" you tease.

"excuse me?"

"you're wrong," you shrug with a smirk on your face. "it's barça, and it'll always be barça. mati, come on."

martin sucks in a breath through his teeth and rubs his hands together. "looks like i need to beat barça to prove her wrong now."

"if you end up facing barça somehow and you beat them, then i'll say my favorite club is arsenal."

"oh, bet, sweetheart," martin smirks. "okay, what national team do i play for?"

"england," you confidently answer. martin's face drops. "i'm kidding. norway, of course."

"don't play, y/n! i'm gonna get kicked out." martin chuckles.

"which national teams do i support with my whole heart?" you ask the fifth question. "keep in mind, there are multiple."

"brazil, obviously," a quick reply from martin. "you like to watch argentina too because of messi. and uhhh... portugal."

"good one, you're correct. though, there's one more."

you give martin a knowing look and he catches on almost immediately. "ah, norway. duh," he shrugs cockily. "okay, my turn. who is my celebrity crush?"

martin didn't really expect to think about it, because he doesn't have one. he only has one crush, and that's you. "ah, trick question. you don't have one." you blurt out.

"you're my only crush, y/n," martin reveals, skimming through the last few cards. the production crew start 'aww'ing, which made martin's head perk up. "it's true."

"okay, last question each, guys." the camera guy announces after ten questions back and forth.

"y/n, how many colors have i dyed my hair?" martin asks his last question.

you almost want to laugh out loud at his last question. "darling, you've been blonde your entire life."

martin starts fake-crying. "i love her so much." you laugh at your boyfriend's antics. he does this almost all the time.

"okay, martin freaking ødegaard?" you ask your last question.

"yes, y/f/n?"

you shut your eyes tight. "what color are my eyes?"

you can't see him, but martin had swiped through about fifteen facial expressions trying to figure out the exact color of your eyes. "why is it so quiet?" you chuckle.

"one sec, baby, i'm trying to figure it out," martin says, rubbing his hand against his chin. "what are they?"

"you look into my eyes every day and you don't remember what color they are?" you exclaim. "shame, ødegaard, shame."

"hang on! i know it," martin can't lose this one. "they're hazel, aren't they?"

"martin..." you call his name with a playful ominous tone. "they're green!"

"goddang it!" he jumps up from his chair and paces around the set in disappointment. "i knew it was green, though!"

"how are you arsenal's captain yet you're unconfident?" you ask. martin only turns to look at you, not saying a word before attempting to close out the video.

"and with that, i have been arsenal's martin ødegaard and she has been my girlfriend, y/n y/l/n. thank you all for watching and we'll see you soon." martin waves at the camera.

"bye!" you follow along. "you still haven't answered my question, mati." you still bug martin about his confidence after the camera cuts.

"i'll give you an answer when we win the prem next season, okay, sweet?"

#martin odegaard #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard x you #arsenal #norway #football #football x reader #football x y/n #football x you

[gabigabigabby]

THE MASTERLIST !!!

last updated: 17 january, 2024

SOCIAL MEDIA AU'S (FOOTBALL + FORMULA 1)

THE LANDOSAINZ SAGA

FORMULA 1

FOOTBALL (NATIONAL TEAMS + CLUBS)

FOOTBALLERS

STRAY KIDS

#joao felix x reader #christian pulisic x reader #richarlison x reader #phil foden x reader #gavi x reader #leandro paredes x reader #emile smith rowe x reader #enzo fernandez x reader #jude bellingham x reader #martin odegaard x reader #gabriel martinelli x reader #football x y/n #football x you

[kierantierney3]

Hey are you still accepting requests idk but if you are, can you please write a Martin Odegaard x famous footballer social media au, and people don't believe them being together even tho he listed her as his fav footballer because they are like "there's no way he bagged someone like her" and rest is up to you honestly I tried to be very vague because at the end of the day it's still your story!!

Hi! Thank you for your request. You are very sweet. I love writing for Martin Ødegaard and glad people are requesting it.

Masterlist

Face claim- Alessia Russo

———-

yourusername

yourusername

liked by ellatoone, martinødegaard and 182,018 others

yourusername Ready for the world cup 🌍

view all comments

jillscottjs8 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

user No y/n and Martin content for about a month

martinødegaard Proud ❤️

user Good luck bring it home!!!

liked by martinødegaard, stanwaygeorgia and 128,828 others

yourusername Preparations underway!

view all comments

martinødegaard Killing it ❤️

user I love how Martin is always the first to like her posts no matter what the post actually is.

user Loving the pink training top.

yourusername story

——-

Might make a part 2 after England world cup situation if you guys want?

Enjoy! Hope it what you wanted.

Also i’m not english but found it easily to use Alessia as the face claim.

#football #arsenal #Martin Ødegaard #martin ødegaard x reader #martin ødegaard imagine #martin ødegaard imagines #arsenal fc #instagram au #instagram #football imagine #footballer #football imagines #football x reader #footballers #arsenal football club

[tierneysodegaard]

Cutlery - Martin Odegaard x Reader

Martin Odegaard x reader

Requested? Yes/No

Anon: Please make another with odegaard Maybe where he finde out the reader used to be sick (Maybe with eating disorder)

Word Count: 900+

Warnings: Mentions of eating disorders, fluff

AN: Just some background to this as I know not all of you live in the UK: the UK Government has made it law to put a calorie count on menus in certain restaurants which obviously affects those with eating disorders and those recovering. If you do find yourself in this situation you can request a menu without calories on it, just ask your server and they should be able to sort you out one :)

—

When the UK Government announced that calories would now be on menus in certain restaurants your heart dropped. You’d managed to have a healthy relationship with food for a few years now but knowing that when you went out you would constantly be reminded of how many calories would be in each bite you slowly panicked, thinking you were going to lose all of your hard work every single time you left the house. 

What didn’t help your nerves was Martin had asked if you wanted to go out to dinner. Martin didn’t know that you had an eating disorder, you’d developed a better relationship with food and could keep it concealed when you met him. You weren’t sure how he’d react, some people were pricks and acted as if you were being dramatic and others were kind and took their time to listen and understand. You knew there was no way Martin would act like a prick when he found out, he was the nicest man you’d ever met so you knew he’d care but your nerves still got the better of you. 

“You look beautiful.” Martin was stood in your doorway, his eyes looming over your figure as he smiled. 

“Thank you.” You returned the smile, your voice feeling weak as you locked the door. 

“Are you okay?” His soft tone turned to concern as he opened the car door for you. 

“Hmm? Yeah I’m fine.” Martin wasn’t convinced. He could read you like a book so he always knew when something was on your mind. Even if it was something small like an unfinished assignment or something big like this, he always knew but if you didn’t want to talk about it he’d never pressure you to. 

The pair of you drove to the restaurant with very little talk and that’s when Martin knew something was really wrong. Normally you’d beg him to play the soundtrack to Mumma Mia! And you’d sing along to every song on the soundtrack but this time you only hummed along to the songs as you looked out the window. Martin parked the car but didn’t rush to get out. He placed his hand on your thigh, catching your attention. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s really on your mind?” He tightened his grip slightly, moving his thumb back and fourth on your skin for comfort.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him through his blonde locks that were always falling out of place where he would always run a hand through his hair. “Before I met you I didn’t have the best relationship with food and I was diagnosed with an eating disorder. I got help, I put so much work into restoring the relationship I had with food and then the stupid Government announced they were putting calories on the menus at certain restaurants it just scared me. I don’t want to go back to what happened, I can’t go back into hospital again.” 

You had tears welling up in your eyes as his gaze softened. “y/n -”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You cut him off. “I thought I was past it -”

“And you are.” He squeezed your thigh. “Look how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time and look if things go back to what they were I will be with you every single step of the way, no matter what.” He now moved his hand and took a hold of yours, moving it up to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of your hand. “I promise you.”

“Thank you.” You leaned into him slightly, as best as the car would let you, allowing him to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

“I would never leave or get annoyed about something like that. You never have to tell me your past, just because we’re together doesn’t mean you need to tell me every single part of your life. As long as you’re safe and comfortable that’s all I care about.”

“Thank you Martin…” 

“So we can go in there and have a meal, I’ll read everything out to you or I’ll ask if they have menus without the calories on them or we could go home and I’ll make you something, I am a good cook.” A playful smile spread across his lips. 

“How about we have dinner in there and you could make dessert?” You posed an idea. 

“Deal.” He winked. “I know what I’ll be having for dessert.” He smirked as he started to get out of the car. 

“Martin!” You called after him, only making the Norwegian laugh as he moved to open the car door, holding his hand out to help you out. 

“Oh come on you know you like it.”

“Oh shut up.” 

Martin could always make you smile, even the darkest of situations.

#martin odegaard one shot #martin odegaard imagines #martin odegaard x reader #martin odegaard imagine #martin odegaard #football imagine #football x reader #footballl imagine #football imagines #football

[tierneysodegaard]

Stressed Out - Martin Odegaard x Reader

Martin Odegaard x reader

Word count: 4K

Summary: Things have been tough for Martin since Arsenal lost three times in a row and with him now becoming captain the stress started to take its toll. Seeing how stressed he was you decided to be his good luck charm during his game against Chelsea. 

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, swearing, sexual innuendos but no smut.

—-

Martin had been beyond stressed recently. Arsenal wasn’t getting the results they needed, first losing to Crystal Palace, then Brighton and a crushing defeat to Southampton, three teams they could have beaten. Nine points lost and a top-four spot was slowly slipping away from their grasp and with Laca out with covid and Tierney inured it meant Martin was left to take up the leadership role. Sure he already was the captain for Norway which helped him massively and he certainly was a natural-born leader but being a captain for a national team was far different to leading a premier league team. 

They were set to play Chelsea next and the odds were highly against them. Everyone was expecting Chelsea to win and every Arsenal fan was prepared to lose. They needed these points, all the lads on the team knew that which didn’t help Martin in the slightest. He wanted fans to know that he was worthy to be captain, he wanted to prove himself but the losses stacking up overlooked his efforts.

You were sat on the sofa, book open as dinner cooked with your and Martin's dog resting his head on your lap. Romeo was staring up at you from under your book his icy eyes staring into your y/e/c ones as a let out a whine. Moving the book aside so you could see him better you gave him a pout as you ran your hand through his fur.

“He’ll be home soon.” The dog lifted his head, showing interest in your words. “I promise.” Just as you finished speaking a key could be heard in the lock catching the dogs attention. Romeo bolted up, barking as loud as he could as Martin threw the door open. He looked tired but his eyes lit up when your dog jumped up onto him, knocking his travel bag he took to work from his hand. 

“Hey buddy.” Martin smiled giving the dog all of his attention, making you smile as you watched the pair. Martin eventually left Romeo to deal with his own excitement before walking towards you. “Hello, my love.” He smiled, throwing his shoes off as he walked, evidently not caring where they landed or the fact that Romeo could easily sink his teeth into the white material. 

“Hey, how was training?”

“Hmm…” He hummed as he hovered over you ducking his head down to catch your lips in a sweet kiss. It wasn’t short in the slightest. If anyone would have witnessed it they would have thought the two of you had been apart for years when it had only been a few mere hours since the two of you had embraced. His right hand cupped your face, pulling you closer as he steadied himself with his other hand and knee which was perched on the sofa. 

“Martin…” You muttered between the kisses. 

“Hmm?” He hummed but continued. 

“You’re crushing my book.” He pulled back slightly and looked down to the book you had in your hand. It was no secret that Martin and you both enjoyed reading, you would often find Martin perched on the balcony reading a book if he had the afternoon off and you were busy. 

“I haven’t seen that one before…” He narrowed his gaze as he pulled back to look down at the cover. “I thought you were on a ‘book-buying ban’.” He quoted your words to him you spoke earlier that week. 

“Yeah but you know that never lasts long.” The pair of you cracked smiles at one another as he slumped down next to you, his head leaning on your shoulder as he tried to read what was on the pages. 

“What’s it called?”

“The Fine Print.” You flashed the cover towards him. “It’s a smutty enemies to lovers -”

“No wonder why you bought it.” He let out a laugh. “Any good?”

“Perfect, it’s fast-paced, it’s interesting, the writing is beautiful and there’s a morally grey handsome love interest.” You took a breath. “I love it.”

“Is he as handsome as me?” He teased. 

Arching your brow at him you teased him back. “You Martin Odegaard are much more handsome than ink on a page.” Your words made a small grin appear on his face.

“And the smut?”

“What about it?”

“Is it any good?”

“Not as good as our sex.” 

“Sounds like the perfect book.”

“Oh it is, the men in it annoy me a lot -”

“When don’t men annoy you?” The smile on his face faded as he pried his eyes off you and looked towards where he’d thrown his shoes. “Speaking of annoying men.” You followed his gaze to see your eight-month-old husky chewing into Martin's brand new shoes. “Romeo!” Martin yelled but the dog ignored him.

“Romeo!” You called to him, his head snapping up as he’d been caught in the act. He didn’t even need you to tell him to drop the shoe, the stare on yours and your boyfriend's face told him everything. 

“Why does he listen to you and not me?” He pouted. 

You shrugged before answering. “He just knows who his superior is.”

“Clearly hasn’t seen you in the bedroom then.”

“Martin!” You slapped his chest lightly but he only laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into him so he could plant a kiss on your head. You sunk into his touch as the pair of you watched your dog back away from the shoes and run to his pile of toys. “As much as I’d love to lay here with you forever I’d rather not let dinner burn.” Reluctantly you sat up, sliding your bookmark in place before setting it down onto the coffee table. “And you need to shower before dinner.”

“Do I smell that bad?”

“Like the charming aroma of sweat.” You walked into your kitchen, it was an open place so Martin could still see and talk to you from his spot on the sofa. “Why didn’t you just shower at work?”

“So I could come home quicker.” He replied, sitting up so he could see you better. 

“I thought you love the boys?”

“Of course I do but when you’re here on your own all day I feel bad.”

“I’m not on my own when we have a little demon to keep me occupied, besides you make it out like I don’t have friends or anything.”

“That’s not what I meant y/n.” He gave you a look of sympathy which changed when you smiled, indicating to him that you weren’t offended by his words. 

“I know what you meant. Martin, I’m fine here. Besides, y/f/n and I are planning to grab lunch together on Friday, they wanted to go out on Saturday but I’m not missing your game, I’m not missing your win.” You winked. 

“Don’t hold out hope.” He muttered so you couldn’t hear. “I don’t think you’ll ever know how much I appreciate you coming to games.” 

When he moved to London he was pretty much on his own, sure it was only supposed to be for a few months when he was on loan, that’s when you met him. Martin wanted to make it work even if he did have to live and work in another country but all that changed when he voiced his opinion about Arsenal. It was no secret that Mikel Arteta had made him fall in love with football again. Martin was improving under him and he played alongside incredible talent and a team who truly work well and adored the fans. 

He and the rest of the squad had made the fans fall in love with Arsenal again since Wenger's departure. He knew that had been hard on fans as Arsenal hadn’t been doing their best for a few years and now they were finally coming back and he was a part of it. Not to mention how he got back his love for football along the way. He asked you to move in with him once you’d finished university which happened to be the summer he made the move to London permanently. 

“You know I’ll always come to the games.” You opened the oven as you spoke. “I’ll even wear your name on my shirt if you get in that shower before your dinner gets cold.” 

The blonde man laughed to himself, leaving you to dish up the food as he made his way to your shared bedroom whilst Romeo planted himself at your feet, hoping you’d drop something for him to scrounge on despite knowing he was going to be fed when Martin got out of the shower. 

It didn’t take long for Martin to shower and come out to the kitchen wearing grey joggers and a plain white Nike shirt. Taking Romeo aside so he didn't bother you as much, Martin fed the dog before joining you at the dinner table. “You never answered me.” You spoke as you sat down with him. 

“Hmm?”

“About training.”

“Oh…” He smiled thinking back to the kiss. “It was good.” He started to eat. “Tommy is back but I think he’ll be left out of the squad tomorrow, Mikel won’t want to rush him.”

“That’s understandable, poor bloke has been out for months.”

“Losing him and Kieran has been a blow to us.”

“You need backup defenders, sure Cedric and Nuno can have their moments but they aren’t exactly consistent like Kieran and Tommy, and you need a decent striker-”

“Have you ever thought of becoming a manager?” Martin smirked as he cut you off. 

“Too stressful.” You both shared a smile as the pair of you continued to eat. Martin wouldn't let on easily how nervous he was for tomorrow but it wasn’t hard to read Martin at times. You’d always noticed little things with him for example when he’s on the pitch he would always play with his hair every now and again and he’d always need to pull up his socks, especially his right sock. “Are you nervous for tomorrow?”

“I’m fine.” He bitterly replied. 

“You’ll win tomorrow.”

“Don’t hold out hope.” He collected your plates and placed them in the dishwasher before returning to you. “We’re trying, we really are -”

“And fans will see that.”

“They deserve better results.”

“And you’ll get them.” You tilted your head to look up him as you took his hands in yours. “I promise you.” He nodded and whispered a quiet ‘Thank you’ before the pair of you headed to bed. 

Martin normally slept well the night before a game, surprisingly even with these results so when you suddenly felt cold and there was no one by your side your brows furrowed. Part of you wondered if he’d just gone to the toilet or gotten up to get water but your en suite light wasn’t on and the door was wide open, an indictor that Martin had gotten up in the night and forgotten to shut the door. 

Bracing the cold of the house you swung your legs over the bed to find one of Martin's jumpers to keep you warm as you went to search the house but you didn’t even need to leave your room to find him. Martin was looking out to the night sky, seated on your shared balcony.

“No wonder why I was so cold, the door was open.” Your words made him jump as you slipped through the small crack of the door. “Sorry I didn’t mean to make you jump.” 

“No I’m sorry did I wake you kjærlighet?”

“No, I just got cold and realised you weren’t there.” He held his arms out and pat his thigh, indicating that he wanted you to sit on his lap which you happily obliged. He wrapped his arms around you whilst you rested your head in the crook of his neck. 

“We’ve got United after Chelsea -”

“And?” You cut him off. “They have Harry Maguire, that means you’ll be playing with twelve men, not eleven and United will be playing with ten men.”

Martin laughed at your words, his grip tightening on you. “Doesn’t mean we’ll win.”

“Oh come on Martin.” You shifted so you could see his face in the pale moonlight. “Look how far this team has come from last season, you haven’t had an on-form striker all season, so many players have left or gone on loan and you have the youngest team and a manager that isn’t anywhere near as experienced as the others. Arsenal was set to be relegated this season and now look at them, fighting for Europe and you are still well in that race.”

He looked at you with pure admiration, it was the same look he gave you when you first met. The moment his eyes locked onto you he just fell in love. 

“You always say the right things.”

“Oh I’m aware.” You smirked, making him smile. 

“Maybe I should get you to do the speeches before and at halftime.”

“Who normally does it?”

“Laca or Kieran.” He smiled at the memories. “I miss our DJ.”

“Sorry?”

“Kieran’s our DJ, he has a playlist dedicated to hyping the lads up.”

“Christ.” You laughed at the thought. “I need him to send me that playlist.”

“To be fair to the guy he’s got good taste.” Martin pulled you into his chest, running his hands up under his jumper that you were wearing. He kissed the top of your head, his hand trailing higher towards your chest. 

“None of that tonight.” You pulled back, still in his lap but able to look at him now. “You have a game tomorrow.”

“In the evening.” He hit back. 

“It’s late already and you clearly haven't gotten much sleep as it is.” Your hands started to play with his hair. 

“What if I win tomorrow?”

“Score a goal and it’ll be the best sex of your life.” You smirked as he smiled. 

“Deal.” In a swift motion, he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, making you giggle as he threw you onto the bed. He quickly positioned himself on top of you before attaching his lips to your neck making you moan before he moved up to your jawline and to your lips. He deepened it as his hands trailed down to your thighs. He was about to continue when a familiar bark made you both jump and pull apart. 

Romeo was standing by the edge of your bed, his eyes staring daggers into Martin. “That bloody dog.” Martin huffed allowing him to fall back onto the bed. “Gets so excited to see me yet won’t even let me kiss you.”

“I think he knew about our deal, I think,” You patted the bed, motioning for the dog to jump up. “He knows that you’ve got a game tomorrow and he wants you to sleep.”

“He needs to mind his own business.” Martin leaned over to pet him whilst Romeo sat on your lap. “He is right though,” The Norwegian let out a huff. “I do have a game tomorrow, a very important one.”

“Exactly.” Martin leaned over, taking Romeo in his grasp and placing him on the floor to return to his own bed before turning to pull you into his arms. His chest was leaning into your back as he wrapped his arms around your waist so you’d be closer to him. 

“Thank you.” He placed a kiss on your neck as he fell asleep. You smiled at his words and that smile grew when Romeo jumped back on the bed and slid under your arms, hoping Martin hadn’t felt him jump up.

                                                            — 

“Good luck.” You and Martin were standing in the doorway of your front door as he was due to leave to catch the coach to Stamford Bridge.

Martin gave you a small smile before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, you’ll be here when I’m back right? You aren’t going out tonight are you?”

“It's game day you know I always watch it.”

“I just thought maybe because of how things have been -”

“Martin,” You stepped closer, cupping his cheeks as you looked deep into his eyes. “I don’t care if you lose every single game of the season I will always watch and support you.”

He smiled warmly, his hands snaking around your waist. “Thank you min kjærlighet.” He rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. “Let’s get this over with then.” Taking a step back he unlocked his car. 

“You’ll be fine.” You gave him a little wave. “I promise you.”

“Thank you.” He returned the wave before getting in the car. He took off through the gates of your house and like always you would wave him off until he turned the corner and couldn’t see you anymore. 

Normally you would go in and switch on the tv and watch the pre-match interviews before the game kicked off, always sending a text to Martin when you knew he was in the changing rooms but this time was different because you were going to the game. 

Ben White had sent you a text in the week asking how Martin had been at home. Turns out the stress he’d shown at home had also reflected in training. Ben and a few other lads had been worried about his state and for that, he asked Mikel if there was a way you’d be able to join them for the Chelsea game. 

Mikel obliged and allowed you to sit alongside coaches and medical staff in the away dugout. Ben was able to get a pass for you and left training early because he had a ‘dentist appointment’ when the reality was he had driven to your and Martin's house to give you the pass without Martin knowing. So when Martin left for the game you ran to your shared room and quickly got changed. 

Martin always wanted you to wear one of his Arsenal shirts with his name on the back so you opted for that, knowing it would make him smile despite not knowing that you were actually going to be there. You put a hoodie on and then layered the shirt over the tip so everyone could see his name on your shirt and you’d still be warm. Calling for an Uber you set the TV onto Sky Sports for Romeo. 

“You better cheer for your Dad.” You instructed the dog who gave you a low bark in agreement. When the Uber was here you gave Romeo one last pet before grabbing your pass and heading out the door to Stamford Bridge. 

Martin sulked as he got changed, a smile coming to his face when he saw your usual ‘Good luck, I love you x’ text. 

“That the Mrs?” Ben asked, dragging Martin out of his thoughts. 

“y/n? Yeah it is.” He smiled at the defender. “Just wishing me luck as always.”

“You’re a lucky man Martin.”

“I’m aware.” He replied before putting his phone away. 

“You gonna marry her?”

“I plan on it in the future, maybe then you’ll stop flirting with her.” Ben laughed at his words as the pair joined the rest of the squad to walk out alongside Chelsea. 

Meanwhile you were watching the Arsenal and Chelsea squad walk out and line up alongside the referees as the squad names were all read out. Martin looked focused as he wore the captain's armband for a second time, hoping for a win this time. He was yet to notice you, too focused on the game ahead. 

Within minutes Arsenal had scored. Eddie Nketiah had scored the first goal. His first one for a very long time, evidently giving the young lad confidence. A smile never left your face as you watched the boys celebrate but that smile didn’t last long Timo Werner went and scored only minutes later. 

Smiles came back to you when Martin assisted Smith Rowe to make it 2-1 to Arsenal. He fell to the floor, slamming it with his hands as he shouted with happiness that he’d set that goal up. But much like the last, the happiness faded when Azpilicueta scored ten minutes before half time making the score 2-2. Looking defeated, Martin walked off as fast as he could, evidently wanting to give the boys a talk. 

“Does he know you’re here?” Stewart, the head photographer asked. 

“Not yet.” You were sat right next to the tunnel, meaning you could lean over the wall and he’d see you as he came back onto the pitch. “But he will.”

“Think he might get another assist if he knows you’re here.” The man smiled before turning away and going back to his post before the match resumed. 

It didn’t take long for the boys to leave the tunnel and make their way onto the pitch. You leaned over the barrier and waited for Martin. His eyes were glued to the floor as he took deep breaths, steadying himself for the last half of the match but his head snapped up when he heard his voice being called by the woman he loved. 

“Martin!” You leaned down, smiling wide at him but his smile was wider. 

“Gud elsker,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Here to support my boyfriend, I thought that was obvious?”

“H-how?” He looked towards the pitch quickly hoping they weren’t starting just yet. 

“Lets just say some of the boys were worried and thought you needed a little more support in person.” He left out a small laugh. 

“Was it Ben?”

“How did you guess?” You returned the laugh. 

“He’ll find anyway he can to talk to you.”

“Then you better find a way to let him know that I’m yours.” You teased, leaning further down to plant a kiss on his forehead. “Now you might want to go out there and show everyone that London is red because I didn’t wear this shirt for them to win.”

“Did you wear the one with my name on the back?” You turned slightly to show him his name and number proudly presented on your back. “It suits you vakker.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at the complement. 

“Although,” He leaned up to you so he could get as close to your ear as he could. “It would look nicer on our bedroom floor.” He pecked your lips as he stepped back, a wink flying your way as he walked onto the pitch to resume the match.

Thankfully it took just over ten minutes for Eddie to score again, allowing Arsenal to take the lead. Arsenal fought until the very end and with only minutes to go Arsenal were awarded a penalty. Normally Laca would take it but as he was yet to come on it was awarded to another player, that player being Saka. After he missed in the euros you wanted nothing more for him to score and gain confidence once again. 

Everyone stood by, waiting to run forward and tap the ball in just in case he missed but as if the world had answered every Arsenal fans prayers, he scored his first penalty since that horrible summer night. 

The stadium erupted in screams and cheers, despite losing even a few Chelsea supporters even smiled at the young boy after all, if there was anyone who deserved that goal, it was Saka. 

The final whistle blew and all the Arsenal lads hugged one another and ran over to the fans behind the goal. Martin threw his shirt at a fan, Ben done the same and so did the other lads. Martin jumped on Elneny’s back, smiling and singing along with fans, his captain’s armband still firmly glued to his bicep. 

The boys finally left the pitch, Martin jumped off the Egyptian's back, smiling at him before running over to you, taking you into his arms like it was the last time he’d ever hold onto you. 

“You did it Martin.” You pulled back, looking into his eyes. “My captain got his first win.”

“Maybe we can beat United now.”

“Oh you can definitely beat United.” 

“Does this mean I’m going to get the best sex of my life?” He raised his brow in a teasing way. 

“You didn’t score.”

“Yeah but we won.” He pouted. “And I assisted Emile.”

“I’m aware.” You smirked. Martin looked down at his armband as your eyes scanned his body, his white undershirt clung to his body so tight you could see every muscle he had. 

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, smirking. 

“Could say the same about you, eyeing up your own arm.”

“I was just thinking…”

“Thinking about what?”

“What if I kept the armband on?”

“Deal, I’ll meet you on the coach.” You winked before following the rest of the staff members to the Arsenal coach, leaving Martin to hope that coach could drive fast to the other side of London.

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