from red to blue — erling haaland summary: your big brother plays for arsenal, but your boyfriend plays for man city and they both try their hardest to get you to support their team for the upcoming face off. pairings: erling haaland x ødegaard!reader warnings: fluff + mentions of alcohol + set during 25/26 season a/n: thanks for the req you know I love my øde!!
“you know there was a time when you’d do anything for me.” martin, your older brother, emphasizes.
he was just two years older than you, and had the premier league in his hands. along side him was your boyfriend, erling haaland, who would take titles, trophies, and legacies with just the flick of his boot or a header. this upcoming rivalry match was hanging heavy over your heard like a dark cloud. it was impossible to pick who to cheer for.
with the premier league title within reach, your brother begged for you to remember your roots. he was the one who would sneak you alcohol when you couldn’t drink, he would punch the boys at school for you, and he was the one who introduced you to erling. so yes, he feels you owe him for this.
“I thought I was coming over for a nice dinner, and now I’m being black mailed.” you jokingly scoff. reaching your hand out for the bottle of wine to refill your glass, Martin’s reflexes were quicker and snatched it into his chest, “you can have more if you agree to wear my shirt.”
“I leave for the restroom and this is what I come back to?” erling gestures to the discussion he’d heard as he made his trek back to the dinner table.
he knew this was coming. he knew this dinner wasn’t just to have a double date, he knew that Martin would use this to get even. after two years of dating, you’d stood by erling’s side and graciously cheered for the boys in blue. now with the title hanging over both teams heads, martin would do anything to have you switch sides.
“I’ll clean your house.”
“you’ve never cleaned ours.” helene interjects, her hands gesturing to the mess of baby bottles, dirty towels, and untidied laundry.
“helene, I’ll clean your house.” erling smiled hoping to earn the blondes affection, but she just shook her head at the goofy giant.
“you won’t be allowed at my house until I win the premier league.” Martin says with the tone. it was the tone that scared you as a young girl, but now you knew martin only used the tone for empty threats. he couldn’t hang anything over your head as leverage anymore as you were both adults.
“do you see how he treats me?” erling taps your arm, and then waves his hand in your brothers direction, “remember who really loves you, y/n.”
you stand up from the table. the chair screeching across the wood floor causes both boys to fall silent. padding across the room, you grab one of the unopened wine bottles and uncork it, “this is going to be a long night.” you say before chugging from it.
raising her hand up for the bottle, you hand it off to helene and she does the same tipping the bottle back, “you both are ridiculous.”
—
erling wraps you tight into his body, the sun rising just outside your room, faint orange and yellow beams casting light into the room. he feels you shift in his arms, the deep slumber slowly fading into wakefulness.
“good morning.” he says, voice slightly raspy.
“not a good morning.” you say, turning your face into his chest. you nuzzle closer, resting your forehead against his bare chest, “today I’ll be crucified if I don’t root for martin.”
his chest rumbles with laughter that fills butterflies in your stomach. his hands roam under your shirt, itching to pull you closer until there was no more space.
“baby, just root for martin, I’ll be okay.”
inhaling his scent, you exhale a long sigh. the anxiety bubbled in you all night. you tossed and turned in the sheets. every other match it didn’t matter what you wore, but now? it mattered more than you could stomach.
“I can’t do that to you.”
you heard him scoff. he shifts away from you, removing his arms from around your body. slowly, he rose out of bed and moved towards your closet. cold and now alone in bed, you watched him as he dug through the hangers of clothes until he found Martin’s jersey that was hung beside his.
“he’s going to kill me if you don’t wear this.” he holds the red jersey like it was a sin. far from his body and fingers like as if touching it would burn him.
“if you’re okay with it.”
“more than okay with it.”
—
“it’s not done.” were words echoed across the emirates stadium.
seated, and stunned, you wait in the visiting lobby for either of the boys to find you. looking down at the red shirt on your body, it felt foreign against your skin. the fabric was the same as man city’s, just the color was a shock.
“I think I like you better in blue.” erling says entering the small visitor’s guest room where you sat. you were the only person in there wearing red, and surely it earned you many stares and whispers.
“I’m proud of you.” you say leaping into his body, and wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down closer to you, “congrats on the win.”
“how do you feel about the win?” erling asked with a whisper in your ear.
“happy. for you of course.” you quickly reply. hearing the sound of someone’s throat clearing, you pull away. you knew who’s throat it was just by the tense feeling building in the room.
turning to face the door, erling revealed you to your brother, Martin, who didn’t show any emotion to the loss.
“good match.” Martin said with a curt nod in erling’s direction before turning his attention to you.
instantly, a smile tugged on his lips, “that’s my shirt!” he cheered. moving into the room, he turned you around to see you were in fact wearing his jersey.
“take our picture!” martin tossed the phone into erling’s hand and he pulled you tight into his side. he made sure the jersey was showing before smiling beside you.
“don’t worry,” you whisper up to erling, who was shaking his head at the excitement from his international teammate, “I have something you’ll like on underneath.” you teased.
raising an eyebrow in your direction, his lips turned into a smirk, “yeah?” his fingers quickly lifted up the red jersey to see you were wearing a floral patterned baby blue lace lingerie bodysuit.
“good match, martin! we’ll call you later.” erling calls over his shoulder as he shoves you out of the emirates stadium and into the safety of the backseat of your car.
