#atletico de madrid oneshot

[percervall]

and it sounds just like a song

Player: Marcos Llorente Words: 738 Warnings: Smut from the first paragraph, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms (f) A/N: I blame Atleti's admin for this, they're feeding the brain rot about this slut of a man. I wrote this in a couple of hours and barely edited it so please be kind @mercedesjpg hope you enjoy!

---

He hears her before he sees her. Marcos can’t help the grin that spreads on his face as he opens the door into the living room to see his girlfriend on the couch, wearing nothing but an old Atleti t-shirt, back arching and body trembling as an orgasm tears through her. 

“What a sight to come home to,” he comments, closing the door behind him. He leans against it, arms crossed as he keeps watching her.

“All your fault,” she all but moans as she comes down, hips still bucking as she keeps the toy pressed against her clit, “oh fuck..” 

A whine leaves her mouth as she throws her head back. The vibrations against her already sensitive clit are enough to send her flying again. He can feel his cock straining against his tracksuit bottoms as he watches her. 

“How is this my fault baby, you’re the one with a vibrator against her dripping pussy,” he coos, moving closer. He takes the toy from her hand and drags it through her folds, down to her opening, collecting her wetness, before moving it back up to her clit.

“It’s your slutty behaviour. You might-.. Fuck… you might as well show up to training in speedos next time,” she manages to say as she pants. Marcos smirks and presses a button to increase the intensity of the vibrations, making her cry out as he drags it over her clit.

“Sun’s out, thighs out. Not my fault the social media team captures it every time,” he comments and keeps the toy pressed against her.

“Oh God.. Marcos.. I’m gonna.. So close…” she mumbles, as the muscles in her thighs tremble. 

“One more, let go, hermosa..” he murmurs, watching as she comes undone for the third time. 

“More.. I need-.. Please.. Marcos..” she whines, not finishing any of her sentences, thoughts inchorrent as she comes down from her high, hips moving in slow circles. 

“What do you need, baby?” he all  but purrs, turning the vibrations down to the lowest setting. 

“Need more.. Need you.. Please, fuck me.. Marcos.. Please..” He doesn’t need more encouragement than that. Marcos turns the toy off, dropping it to the floor before stripping. He then helps her undress before turning her over onto her stomach. 

“Such a needy girl, aren’t you?” Marcos says, holding onto her hips as he slowly enters her from behind. She can only moan in return, the feeling of him stretching her almost overwhelming. 

“Please..” she whispers, fingers desperately clutching at the couch cushions. Marcos hums and sets an unrelenting pace, filling her so deep she sees stars. 

“Yes…” she moans, eyes fluttering closed as he gives her what she needs. She tilts her hips ever so slightly, making him hit that spot inside her.

“Fuck! Right there.. Don’t-.. Don’t stop…” 

“Feel so good baby. Gonna be a good girl for me and let me fuck you? Just let me use this pretty pussy?” Marcos’ words send a jolt of lust down her and she can only nod. His fingers dig into her as he gives her what she begged for. Marcos keeps murmuring praise and absolutely filthy things, half of which barely even register in her lust-clouded brain. She can feel her orgasm building. She knows it won’t be as gentle as the previous ones, they all helped build up this tidal wave that’s threatening to pull her under. Marcos is about to absolutely ruin her.

“Marcos-.. Can-.. Need.. Please can I cum?” she begs, her voice breaking with a sob of pure need. 

“That’s it baby, let go for me.. Need to feel you cum,” he all but grunts, reaching a hand down to rub tight little circles over her sensitive bud. Her orgasm washes over her, pulling her under as her vision blurs, body trembling with the intensity of it. Marcos is quick to follow, spilling into her with a groan.

As she returns into her body, she can hear the echo of someone screaming bouncing off the walls in the living room. Marcos lets go of her hips, pulling out and picking up his discarded shirt from the floor to help her clean up. She clings to him as she allows him to turn her onto her back. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes still unfocussed as she looks at him.

“Mm, you’re welcome hermosa. I love you,” he replies softly, brushing her hair out of her eyes. 

Tags @football-and-fanfics @kostasstsimikass @lfc21 @nyctophilic0vitnir

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[sports-on-sundays]

idk if you’re taking requests but could you do a fluff with rodrigo riquelme where him and the reader enjoy a rainy day indoors

rainy days / Rodrigo Riquelme

Summary: sunny!Rodrigo x girlfriend!cloudy!reader - A little bit of rain won't stop you and Rodri from having a fun day together. Fluff so sweet it might rot your teeth.

Warnings: thunder & lightning

Requested?: Frick yes!

Author's Note: My friend, I'm so happy someone requested for him that I probably actually blushed when I opened my inbox and saw this. I am your certified no. 1 Roro girlie, here at your service! 🫡

Just as you enter the living room where Rodrigo has been waiting for you for the last half hour to finish getting ready, it starts raining.

"Nooo!" you whine, your hands going to your face in dismay. "You have got to be kidding me!"

Rodrigo sets down his phone, frowning, looking out the window. "And it looks like it won't be stopping anytime soon... Look at all those dark clouds over there!" He leans back at an angle to get a better view.

You plop down next to him, crossing your arms, and murmur, "And I got all dressed, too, in this brand new dress. Now I have to go change, since we can't even go out..."

"Hey, wait," Rodrigo says, turning to look at you for the first time since you entered the room. "You don't have to go change. You look lovely in that dress."

"Don't be silly. It's a sundress. I'm not going to be wearing a bright yellow sunny sundress when it's pouring outside and we're stuck indoors!"

"Aw!" he grins, his eyes sincere. "Why not? I'm here, and I think you look adorable in it. I'm certainly impressed, even though you took an hour and a half getting ready."

"You sure?"

"Of course I am!" he laughs, pulling you into a hug, kissing your cheek, like he's snuggling with a teddy bear. "I'm so glad you decided to wear that dress, rain or shine!"

"Well..." you smile softly, blushing deeply. "I was hoping you'd think it's pretty."

"See?" he grins. "I do, so there's nothing to worry about. And I'm sure we can find plenty of fun things to do inside. Come on!" He grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with him.

He leads you to the dining room, where he has your picnic blanket and lunches on the table. You click your tongue in disappointment. "We can't even have our picnic."

But Rodrigo looks at you with cheery eyes. "Sure we can!"

"Rodrigo, it's pouring!"

"We can have it inside!"

You frown, crossing your arms, and say bluntly, "That's stupid."

"No, it's not. Come on." He picks up the lunch and goes to the living room. He lays out the soft blanket on the floor and lays the food out. "No reason we can't have it right here. Here- and I'll open the windows, too, for some fresh air."

"Wait, no-" you suddenly say nervously, sitting down on the blanket.

He stops with his hand on the window's handle. "Why not?"

"I..." you hesitate, before continuing softly "What if it turns into a lightning storm...?"

Rodrigo smiles softly. "Then I'll close them. We'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"One hundred percent," he chuckles, opening the windows. As he sits down next to you and begins taking out the food, you have to admit, the breeze does feel nice, and you like the sound of the rain outside.

So you sit together and eat your indoor picnic, and once you finish, Rodrigo lays down and pulls you down with him, murmuring, "Wanna just cuddle?"

"Sure," you chuckle. You have a very cuddly boyfriend.

So you just lay together, arms around each other. You rest your cheek against his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair, and you both stay silent, just contently listening to the pattering of the rain falling outside.

Suddenly, though, there's a loud crack of thunder, and you flinch, letting out a little squeal, and automatically take two fistfuls of the soft pullover sweatshirt Rodrigo is wearing.

He chuckles softly, leaning away a bit to look at you. "You scared?" he asks teasingly, but also softly.

"Can- Can you just close the windows please?"

He smiles and nods, before hopping up to do so. Once they're closed, he asks, "You're scared of thunderstorms?"

You pout a little, sitting up on the blanket. "Maybe."

"Aw," he grins. "Cutie."

You lick your lips, rolling your eyes, and cross your arms. "Whatever."

But suddenly, lightning flashes, and you jump again, biting your lip nervously, before tucking your knees to your chest and resting your face in your arms.

"Hey, hey," Rodrigo says gentler, sitting next to you. "It's okay..." He wraps his arms around you, which does add a lot of comfort. After a while of him just holding you, he says, "Hey, why don't we do something to get your mind off it? Why not play a board game or something?"

You swallow and nod, before clearing your throat and saying, "Alright. Sounds good to me."

He nods. "M'kay. You wait here; I'll be right back with a board game for us to play, yeah?"

You nod, and he's off. But only for a moment, because soon he's back with a Sorry! box in his hands. He sits down next to you, and you're just beginning to take the board out of the box when suddenly, there's another loud crack of thunder, and a second later, the room goes black.

"Rodri!" you gasp, clinging to him, burying your head in his chest.

He laughs softly and rubs your back. "It's okay. The electricity just went out, is all... There's nothing to be scared of... I'm right here..." he soothes gently.

The fact that Rodrigo knows you also have a fear of the dark- that's really not helping your situation. "But... what if... I don't know..." you sigh, leaning away. "How are you not scared?"

He shrugs with a little smile. "I like storms. And there really is nothing to be scared of. The chances of lightning hitting us is so incredibly low, there's no reason to worry."

"But..."

"Hey." He gently tilts your head up to meet his sincere eyes, which you can just barely see in the dark room, with the electricity now out. "Chin up, princess. Your crown is falling," he teases.

You sigh with a nervous smile and nod.

"And do I look scared?"

You frown. "No."

"Then there's no reason for you to be scared, either."

You pout. "That's not fair for you to say. You're, like, a footballer and travel and stuff. You do scary things all the time."

He grins. "Have I ever been killed playing football? Have I ever been killed flying in a plane or driving in a bus? Clearly not, because I'm sitting here right now looking at the most beautiful girl in the world. So what makes you think that we're going to get killed in a thunderstorm?"

You shrug with a more genuine smile. "Nothing."

His grin widens. "There you go. Besides, I think we're far too important to get killed in such a dumb way as getting struck by lightning. You know? I think we've got far more life to live than that."

Now you match his grin. "Alright, alright. You've won me over. Now, you're getting pretty obnoxious: just looking at me so cute, and not even kissing me or anything."

He giggles a bit and says, "Well, sorry!" before cupping your chin and leaning in for a kiss, spreading his sunny, cheery, happy-go-lucky aura around you, despite the rain and wind and thunder and lightning outside.

When he pulls away, you're about to lean in for more, but just then, he slaps his thighs and says, "Now, let me go get a candle, so we can get to playing Sorry!"

You smile softly as he walks off with a skip in his step.

Oh, Roro.

Soon, he's back with the candle. It takes him four tries and some taunting giggles from you until he's able to light the match and the candle before it going out first. When he finally does, he lets out a relieved sigh and says with a laugh, "Finally!"

"'Finally' is right! Rodrigo Riquelme, public enemy number one- when it comes to matches!"

He grins and nods, very, very, slowly and carefully setting the candle down next to the playing board, before you get playing.

You end of beating his socks off in Sorry!. "There!" you grin, setting your last piece in the 'home' tunnel. "Professional Hasbro Sorry! player right here! No, no, really, it's okay- I can give you my autograph!"

This, though it's not particularly hysterical, sends your boyfriend into a fit of laughing. He just tends to find you funnier than most people. One of his friends could say the exact same thing, and he might give a small chuckle.

And you laugh with him, because you love the sound of his laughter.

Finally, he begins cleaning up the board, a smile still lingering on his face, as he says, "Look at us. A pro footballer and a pro board game player. Power couple one hundred right here."

"You got that right," you chuckle, before a sudden, big yawn comes on you.

Rodrigo looks up with a little sparkle in his eyes. "You getting sleepy?" he asks as he closes up the Sorry! box.

You shrug, smiling back. "Dark, gloomy days make me more tired."

"Gloomy?" he asks, standing up. He holds his hand out to you, and pulls you up to stand as well. "I don't think this day has been gloomy at all."

"What do you mean? The weather is crap."

He sets the board game box on the end table by the couch, before coming back to you and linking his arms around your back, looking you straight in the eyes. "Gloomy is the last word I would use to describe seeing my gorgeous girlfriend in such a pretty dress," his voice softens, and so do his eyes as he continues, "It's the last word I'd choose for having a picnic with her- indoors or not, or getting to cuddle with her. I would never, ever say getting to joke around with you, and laugh with you, is gloomy. I think getting to spend time with you, playing a board game, is the exact opposite of gloomy, actually."

You grin and throw your arms around him. "I love you so much! You know that?"

He kisses your cheek with a loud 'mwah!' before promptly lifting you up and bringing you to the couch. "I love y-"

"Now what are we doing?"

"My goodness!" he laughs. "You don't even let me say it back!" he jokes as he lays down on the couch, letting you lay on top of him.

"Okay, okay, sorry. Say it back."

"I! Love! You!" he giggles, and in between each word pecks your lips. "Now, I think it's time for you to go to sleep, sleepyhead."

You smile, nuzzling into him. "Alright. I'm down for that."

"Good," he whispers with a content sigh, before his hands begin absently loosely braiding your hair.

Your eyes flutter closed, and just as you're drifting off to sleep, you feel a sleepy sigh from Rodrigo, and you're not sure if it's his voice really, or just a fragment of your sugar sweet dreams, but you perceive the soft whisper from Rodrigo murmuring, "Oh, Y/n. Whatever would I do without my Y/n?" and his soft lips kissing you goodnight.

[sports-on-sundays]

football in the rain / Antoine Griezmann

Summary: Antoine x female!Spanish!reader - You met a celebrity before he became a celebrity.

Warnings: running away from home, angst I suppose, missing home, sad ending, melancholy vibes, bit of Spanish (sorry if it's not correct), slight parasocial relationship?

Author's Note: I'M BEGGING YOU. PLEASE READ THIS! I wrote this because I'm a huge fan of his, okay, but listen, I know a lot of you couldn't care less about this but it was an idea I had that I needed to write down. It's not even romantic at all, so you don't have to worry about that! I'm just super proud of this and it would make me so happy to know someone read and enjoyed it. Please, if you don't enjoy it as a fic, then enjoy it simply as a story! Anyway of course I know after this mega long author's note I'm going to get 0 notes anyway.

Requested: Be real.

The year was 2006. The rain beat on your head, soaking through your clothes, as you walked, carrying nothing but a backpack on your back, in the middle of the night.

You stared down at your shoes as you walked, watching as water squished out of them with every step. You let out a deep sigh.

But suddenly, a football gently ran into your foot.

You looked up just in time to see a soaking wet teenage boy, running towards you, saying quickly, "¡Lo siento!"

His wet hair was plastered to his forehead, and his clothes were also soaking, hanging from his body. He had no shoes on, which you found strange.

You picked up his ball and held it, saying, "Who are you?" A part of you assumed he was just some homeless guy who had come across a ball and decided to start playing with himself.

"Mi nombre es Antoine," he said, and it became clear Spanish wasn't his first language. He eyed the ball, waiting for you to hand it back to him.

"Are you French?" you asked.

He nodded, looking at you with his big eyes. "Can I have my ball back?"

You frowned, and, being merely a teenager, asked bluntly, "Are you homeless or something?"

The boy blinked in surprise. "No! I play for Real Sociedad." He gestured, and you were surprised to see you were right by the academy, and you hadn't even noticed.

"Really?" you had asked, sweeping a wet strand of hair out of your face.

He nodded.

"How come you're out practicing in the middle of a rainy night, then?"

You watched as his jaw tightened a bit, but he responded back simply, "I want to improve. I practice whenever I can."

You laughed a bit at that as you asked incredulously, "Don't you get any sleep?"

He shrugged. "Of course I do."

You nodded, and stood there. You glanced at his ball, before rolling it back to him. He stopped it with his foot, which compelled you to ask, "Why aren't you wearing any shoes?"

He shrugged. "They got too wet on the grass. It's easier without."

"Won't you slip?"

He shrugged for about the one hundredth time.

"Well, it makes you look homeless."

"I don't care."

You nodded, shifting your backpack strap on your shoulder, as he said, "But what are you doing, walking in the middle of the night, like you are?"

You shrugged. "I'm running away from home."

The boy blinked in shock as he began kicking the ball back near the field. You followed, somewhat intrigued by this guy, Antoine, with his bright eyes, as he asked, "Why would you do that?"

"I don't know. I'm sick of my home," you said, shrugging off your backpack.

"Want to play?" Antoine offered.

You nodded, slipping off your coat, too. You started playing, just going easy on each other, before Antoine said, eyeing the jersey you were wearing, "Atlético? Are you from Madrid?"

You stood a little straighter, proud of your club. "No, but my uncle is. He's who I'm running away to. I'm sick of my parents."

"You said that," Antoine said as he intercepted your dribble.

"You're really good," you complimented.

"I'm going to go professional, soon enough," the boy smiled proudly.

You nodded. The two of you kept playing, until the score was 3-2, Antoine winning, and you flopped down on the grass next to your backpack, both covered in not only water, now, but also sweat.

"Fernando Torres?" Antoine asked, glancing at the back of your jersey. "Is he your favorite player?"

You grinned, nodding. "He's the best."

He nodded back, and you sat silently in the grey night together for some minutes, before Antoine asked softer, "Why do you want to run away from home?"

You frowned. "I don't know. I want something new. My parents expect me to do so much, and then they never even care about me. They're so controlling. I mean, I'm fifteen! They treat me like a little kid."

"Oh..." Antoine nodded again, trailing off. "Do you think they love you?"

You blinked in surprise at that question. "Of course they do!"

He nodded, and said simply, kind of suddenly, "I'm from France."

"You said."

"My parents are still back there, and my siblings. In France. I hardly ever have gotten to see them... Since... I moved here, for football."

"Well, why didn't you join a club closer to your home, then?" you asked. It seemed fairly obvious to you.

"No clubs would take me."

"What? Why?! You're good!"

But Antoine shrugged, a sad tinge to his voice, so much so, that for just a moment, you thought he might cry. "Apparently, not good enough... What's your name, anyway?"

You told him your name, and he nodded. "Mucho gusto."

You sat there for a while, together, silently. The rain subsided a bit, and finally, you stood up, grabbing your backpack. Antoine stood up with you as you said, "Well, I better get going."

Antoine nodded and said, "Bye. It was really nice, to..." he trailed off, because neither of you really knew what had just happened.

"Yeah," you smiled, understanding. "You too. Antoine."

He grinned back a bit as you turned on your heel to get walking.

But suddenly, he grabbed your wrist. You turned to face him again, your eyebrows scrunching together. "Wait," he said.

You stared.

He let out a shaky breath, before saying, "If your parents love you... I don't think you should run away... I know it's hard, but I don't think you'll regret it in the end."

You saw the glimpse of all the sadness in his eyes. The loneliness.

He knew how it would feel.

His heart was aching for his family.

You assumed it was just a stray raindrop that slowly rolled down his cheek.

You swallowed, and slipped your hand down to squeeze his. "Thanks, Antoine. I'll think about it."

"I don't think I'll ever forget you," he said suddenly, softer.

You blinked in surprise. "W- Why?"

He grinned suddenly. Those sparkling sad blue eyes shining. "I've had a nice time with you, practicing."

You nodded, smiling a little back. "Yeah I had fun, too. Well... bye, Antoine."

He let your hand slip out of his as he called, "Thank you!"

At that time, you didn't have any idea what he was thanking you for as you walked away.

Sometimes, today, you think about it. Now you figure he was just lonely. A boy in the world striving for success, but couldn't see the bright path ahead of him, at the time. Someone who kept going simply because he was a dreamer. He never let go of hope.

That night, you didn't walk to the station and get on a train to Madrid. You went home, took a warm shower, and went to bed.

And after that, things got better for you, slowly but surely.

And you thanked Antoine for that, partially.

And you hoped things would get better for him, too.

Well, you saw that with your own eyes. You saw him get older, and get a place on the first team.

And though perhaps you didn't realize it at the time like Antoine did, the same went for you.

That night, a strange connection you would never forget was formed.

There was no way you could ever forget that lonely night with Antoine, playing football in the rain.

You stand in line, holding two jerseys in your hand. All around you, you, people gushed and huffed and jabbered and pushed in mostly excitement.

Ahead of all the people, somewhere, was Antoine Griezmann, sitting at a table, signing fans' items.

Antoine, who years ago, you played football with in the rain.

You're sure the fame, the money- it changed him. You assume that's something that happens with everyone. But there were so many moments when your heart pounded, and all you could think was, Once upon a time, I stood in the rain and talked to that boy. In that moment, on that one night, we were connected.

Now, eighteen years later, you're determined to let your paths cross again.

He's a famous footballer, with everything anyone could ever ask for. Practically all the money in the world, and a beautiful wife and children.

You're just you, a woman in her thirties who has had a generally alright life, but remain middle class and alone in the world.

But there's a connection you don't want to let go of.

There were moments.

When your uncle phoned you to tell of the news of the young Real Sociedad hotshot who was signing for Atlético Madrid.

When you watched him walk off the pitch crying, after a loss to Germany in the 2014 World Cup.

When you stood up from your sofa and screamed for joy when he scored his first goal for your club, Atlético de Madrid.

When he won the World Cup for France in 2018, and you watched him smiling in the rain with the glimmering golden trophy in his hand.

When you watched him go off to Barcelona, and still stayed his supporter through that mess.

And then you saw him come back to his club. Your club.

And become it's top goalscorer.

And now you're determined to see him face-to-face again.

It seems to happen so slow, and so quick, and the same time. You're not sure if it's tedious or sudden, but either way, at some point, you step up to the table with a lump in your throat.

He looks up and meet your eyes.

He won't recognize me, will he?

"Could you sign two things for me? Antoine?"

He nods, "Of course," and you lay down your jersey of his, with the number seven on the back of it. His Spanish is a lot better now, but you know that. You watch as he scribbles his signature on the shirt and hands it back to you with a smile.

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you lay down the second jersey.

"Fernando Tor-" his voice falters, "Torres," he finishes.

He glances back up at you.

A hint of uncertainty.

Does he really recognize this old jersey?

Is it really ringing a bell, or am I just imagining things?

You breathe deeply.

Come on, Y/n. Say something. This is your chance. This is your one moment, your mind screams as he signs the second, ragged, quite older jersey.

He hands it back to you, but his eyes linger on you longer.

You blurt, "Mi nombre es Y/n."

His bright blue eyes become slightly wider as he opens his mouth to speak.

But suddenly a fan pushes your back in annoyance, and a security guard says, "Miss, we've got a lot of people to get through, and Griezmann doesn't have a lot of time."

And just like that, you're swept away by the crowd. The moment is lost, and you stare at your shoes, clutching your jerseys. You stare at all the other shoes around you, your brain drowning out all the noise.

Your heart pounds.

He remembered me. He did.

Your head aches. All you needed was another moment. All you needed was-

What did you need? Did you really expect anything? Could you even have expected anything?

You feel dizzy, as your stomach drops, and the whole world seems to spin.

You should just be happy you got your jerseys signed, by a star like him.

But to you, he feels like more than just a distant star.

You walk out, swallowing the newest lump forming in your throat, not even taking a moment to look back and see the blue eyes still glancing up and burning into your back.

[percervall]

amor de me vida

Player: Rodrigo De Paul Words: 975 Warnings: None, fluff Request: Stealing their clothes - he's away and you've been ill at home but you miss him so you basically drag yourself to his apartment/house to wear one of his hoodies and joggers and then he comes home during the night (was supposed to be later that next day) and he finds you cuddled up in his bed, wearing his clothes and he drops everything and joins you and you wake up and you two cuddle and A/N: I tweaked it a little bit, hope you like it!

title's from Maluma's ADMV

---

January was one of those months that always left her feeling run down. Work had been exhausting the past month and today had been a particularly horrible day where everything that could go wrong, went wrong. What made it even worse was that she hadn’t been able to see her boyfriend in over a week due to their conflicting work schedules and missed him terribly. He always knew exactly what to do to make her feel better. Missing him felt like a dull ache in her chest, mirroring the way her head pounded with a headache that had settled behind her eyes. There was no point in pretending she could get any work done feeling like this, so after sending a quick email to her boss, she packed up for the day and figured she might as well go to his house to at least seek comfort in his shower and bed. One of the many advantages of dating a professional athlete was that they had money to spend on top tier water pressure and mattresses. 

After stopping by the supermarket to get some soup and bread, she parked her car in front of his house. Rodrigo had given her a key for situations just like this, where she needed him to settle the ache in her bones. Dropping her work bag by the door, she took off her shoes and carried the groceries into the kitchen. Her phone automatically connected to the sound system he had set up, and the playlist she had put on in the car started playing over the speakers. She made her way to the ensuite, throwing her clothes in the laundry basket. As the hot water hit her skin, she sighed at the feeling of her muscles letting go of the tension that had held them in a vice all day. 

She wrapped the towel tighter around herself and walked to Rodrigo’s closet. They shared a preference for oversized lounge wear and while his closet held about a third of her’s, right now she wanted nothing more than to wrap up in one of his soft hoodies. Grabbing her favourite one, she buried her face in the fabric, inhaling the scent of his fabric softener and aftershave. Smiling softly as his scent enveloped her, she got dressed in the hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, and settled in for an evening on the couch with her favourite series on TV.

+

To say he was tired would be an understatement. Between winning the world cup with Argentina and the starting of La Liga, his time had been spent mostly travelling. The plan had been to travel back from their latest away fixture early the next morning, but the whole team wanted to go home and see their families –Rodrigo being one of them. Ever since Diego agreed, he’d been trying to get a hold of his girlfriend. She hadn’t answered her phone, but when he pulled up to his house he spotted her car on the driveway. His lips tugged up in a smile seeing it parked there. Rodrigo quickly made his way inside, dropping his bag by the stairs to take up later. The house was quiet, but he could tell she was still downstairs by the light coming from the living room.

“Babe?” he called out, voice barely above speaking volumes. He waited a beat to see if she’d answer before moving into the living room. The TV was still on, a streaming service politely asking if anyone was still watching. Rodrigo moved further into the room, picking up the remote to turn the TV off. Turning his face, he spotted his girlfriend on the couch, bundled up in one of his hoodies and fast asleep. She had made herself a hot drink and was still clutching the empty mug to her chest as her head rested on her own shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile lovingly, taking in her sleeping features. Rodrigo carefully took the mug from her hands, placing it on the coffee table, before moving to lift her up. He chuckled when she sighed deeply and snuggled into him as he carried her out of the room. 

“Hey,” she croaked, waking up enough to realise the couch wasn’t moving but her boyfriend had come home and was carrying her upstairs.

“Hey mi vida. This is a nice surprise, didn’t think you’d gotten my texts.” 

“Put my phone on do not disturb, so haven’t seen any come in. Just missed you and your hoodies,” she mumbled, sleep slurring her speech. Rodrigo chuckled and carried her up the stairs. He gently set her down on his bed and moved to his closet to get her a shirt to sleep in. 

“How was your day?” he asked as he handed it to her. 

“It’s been hectic and I’m exhausted. Last month was insane and it’s not looking to slow down any time soon. Went home early today with a headache,” she told him, swapping the hoodie for the shirt. Kicking off the sweatpants, she got under the covers. Rodrigo climbed in as well, pulling her closer. It wasn’t lost on him that she had referred to his house as home, his heart squeezing at the thought of her living with him. 

“I have the day off tomorrow, how about we spend it in bed all day?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. She hummed in agreement, snuggling into him. 

“That sounds lovely,” she sighed. Rodrigo smiled again, pressing his lips to her hair. He heard how her breathing evened out, body fully relaxed against his. Finally giving in to sleep, the last thought that crossed his mind was that he would ask her to move in tomorrow. Home was no longer a place, it had become a person shaped like the woman asleep in his arms. 

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Frustrations

GIF credit @skipthesmalltalk

Player: Rodrigo De Paul Words: 1304 Warnings: Smut, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slightly dom!Rodri A/N: It's truly a shame that there is no RDP fanfic on this site. Just look at him! How can you not?? This one's for @footballffbarbiex. Honest to god, Jan Oblak and RDP's pissed off face were the only two good things about yesterday's match. I wrote this in just a little over an hour last night while having half an eye on the last few minutes of CL matches. It's by far the dirtiest thing I've written so far, so enjoy

---

The match had been infuriating to watch from the sidelines, but she knew it would have been even more infuriating to play. She looked up from organising her kit when the door slammed open. She hadn’t expected them back yet, they usually stayed on the pitch to thank the fans. When Jan walked in with a face like thunder, she quickly slipped out knowing the boys needed their space. As she stood in the corridor, she watched different versions of frustration and disappointment walk into the dressing room. 

Her heart hammered in her chest when she spotted Rodrigo storming down the tunnel. She was attracted to him on a normal day, but there was something about him seething that made her stomach flip. She felt herself move further back the closer he came until her back collided with the wall. Rodrigo kept walking, taking hold of her AAA lanyard and yanking her close to him when he stood in front of her. She gulped, the fabric digging into the back of her neck as she looked up at him. His eyes were dark and she could feel the anger radiating off of him as his lips crashed to hers. She knew she should be scared of him –any rational person would be- but instead she could feel her pussy throb as he pushed her back against the wall, pinning her in place with his body.

“Don’t fucking move,” he ordered after breaking the kiss. She swallowed hard as she looked at him. There was only one way this would end and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t looking forward to it. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Rodri stormed into the dressing room but came back out almost immediately. He took hold of her hand and basically dragged her along the corridor. 

“I’d find an empty closet, but I know you don’t care about who sees you getting fucked,” he said, his voice hard as steel. He had moved them far enough away from the tunnel and dressing room that it would be unlikely for someone to walk in on them, but she knew it wasn’t impossible. Knowing they could get caught at any moment and the promise of him just using her to work through his frustrations had her clenching around nothing. 

Rodri pushed her face first against the wall, his front pressing against her back. She moaned softly when she felt his hard cock against her bum, grinding against him. 

“That’s right baby. You gonna be a good girl and just take this cock, hm? Bet you’re already soaking at the thought of it, aren’t you?”

“Rodr-…” 

“You just gonna let me use that pretty cunt of yours?” he interrupted. She nodded, eyes fluttering closed. He yanked her tracksuit bottoms down, letting them pool around her ankles. She felt him palm her ass through her underwear, moving it aside to expose her already dripping cunt. He let out a low growl at the sight of her. She heard him pull his shorts down far enough to free his cock. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he roughly entered her. The stretch of him filling her was almost overwhelming, making her gasp.  

“Oh that’s cute baby, we both know you can’t keep quiet. Let them know how well you’re taking this. Need to hear you as I fuck you,” Rodrigo said as he slammed his hips against her. She tried to find something to hold onto, but her fingers found nothing. She splayed her hands against the cold tiles, fighting a losing battle as they continued to slip down. 

His fingers dug into her hips as he fucked into her, using her to get the anger and frustration out of his system. She let out a string of curses when he tilted her hips ever so slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts. By doing so, he hit that spot inside of her every time he entered her. She could hear herself whimper and moan as the sounds of her arousal and his pelvis hitting against her ass bounced off the walls. 

“Fuck, look at you. So wet for me, taking my cock so well,” Rodrigo whispered in her ear. He gripped her body so hard that she knew it would leave marks. The thought alone made her clench around him. 

“Fuck, baby. So good, always so good for me. Love watching you take my cock like this.”

She could feel the coil tightening in the pit of her stomach as he whispered filthy things in her ear that reduced her to a whimpering and panting mess. 

“Rodri-.. close… So- fuck… So close… Please,” she managed to get out, as he fucked her against the wall. 

“Not about you baby, you’re just gonna take what I give you,” he bit back through gritted teeth. 

If she’d been able to form coherent thoughts, she would have responded to him. She felt him move a hand down to where their bodies met, rubbing tight circles around her clit. The added stimulation was the last straw; she cried out as her orgasm wrecked through her, body trembling and pussy clenching around him. She heard him swear as he spilled deep inside her. 

She immediately felt cold when he pulled out and whimpered at the loss. 

“What a sight you are baby, absolutely ruined with my cum dripping down your thighs,” Rodrigo said as he tucked himself back into his shorts. He helped her stand back up, leaning her against the wall as he righted her panties and pulled her trousers back up. She swallowed hard, eyes still unfocused as she came down from her high. Her legs felt like jelly and her heart beat hard against the confines of her chest. His eyes scanned her face, looking for any signs that he had gone too far. His eyes had softened and his face had lost its hardness. Rodrigo kissed her again, more gentle this time. She sighed into the kiss as she clung to him, her legs still refusing to function. 

“Thank you mi vida,” Rodrigo murmured in her ear as he held her to his chest. 

“Help me get to the dressing room please? Need to clean up before we get on the bus,” she managed to say. 

“Don’t think there’s time before the bus leaves. I’ll run you a bath when we get back to the hotel,” he said, brushing a strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail back behind her ear. She buried her face in the crook of his neck and nodded. Her cheeks were burning at the knowledge he’d be dripping out of her all the way back. Rodrigo kissed her on the side of her head and walked them back towards the dressing room. 

“C’mon, let’s go. I think they might have already gotten on the bus,” he said as he pushed the door open so they could retrieve their belongings. 

“Got that out of your system?” Diego asked when he spotted them outside of the stadium. She felt the blush spread to her chest at the knowledge everyone had heard them. She knew their relationship was the worst kept secret at the club. It was one thing for his teammates to tease them about it, but them knowing what they had just done was another and if she wasn’t absolutely certain the boys would riot, she’d fear losing her job over it. Rodrigo just nodded in reply to his manager as he helped her get onto the bus. She kept her eyes down, not daring to look at any of the players. He sat down next to her, taking the aisle seat. 

“Sleep, mi vida. I’ll wake you when we get there,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around her.

---

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Parenting

Player: Rordigo De Paul Words: 931 Warnings: None, fluff, dad!Rodri A/N: For @footballffbarbiex, hope I did both him and parenting justice!

---

She could feel a headache brewing as their 5-year-old gave Alexa the order to play “we don’t talk about Bruno”. 

Again. 

This would be what felt like the twentieth time in the last thirty minutes. 

“Sweet pea, how about a different song?” she gently suggested but her daughter shook her head. 

“No, mama. Bruno,” the little girl answered and cheered when the sound system her husband had installed started playing the song. She sighed and hung her head in defeat. 

Her head throbbed as she tried to drown out the noise, focussing on putting the glasses back in the cupboard and reloading the dishwasher with the rest of the dishes that hadn’t fit after last night’s dinner party. All she wanted was five minutes of relative quiet so she could get this done and then maybe finally sort that one drawer that had been bothering her for months now. Or maybe clean the kitchen windows which made her groan internally every time the sun highlighted how truly dirty they were. When their daughter requested Alexa to play the song again, she felt like if she didn’t get out, she’d snap. Grabbing her phone from the counter, she abandoned the clean dishes and hid herself away in the only available hiding spot this side of the kitchen —the pantry. She heaved a sigh of relief when the door closed and she could barely hear the Encanto soundtrack. Leaning against a shelf, she treated herself to some dried mango (but only because it was 10 in the morning and they’d run out of chocolate). She almost immediately felt guilty for hiding away and leaving her child unattended. Taking her phone, she opened the app of the camera they had gotten so they could check on the dog when they were away. Who would’ve thought it also worked for 5-year-olds? Resting her phone against a can of chickpeas, she grabbed another piece of dried mango and kept an eye on their daughter. 

He had been able to hear the music upstairs as he sorted the laundry and took a load out of the washing machine. Rodrigo couldn’t help but smile as the little voice of his daughter reached him, singing along at the top of her lungs. He hung the laundry to dry on the rack that hung in the staircase and made his way downstairs. He watched their daughter twirl around the living room with a loving smile and let his eyes wander to the kitchen where he had seen his wife last. Rodrigo furrowed his brow when he saw the abandoned glasses on the kitchen island and a pile of dirty plates on the counter but not his wife. 

He walked into the kitchen and on a whim decided to check the pantry first. As he opened the door, he caught his wife about to take a bite of some dried mango. Her arm froze mid-air and he could see how her cheeks heated up at being caught. 

“Hi,” she squeaked. Rodrigo let out a chuckle and closed the door behind him. 

“Hi yourself,” he replied, leaning against the shelf to her right

“Mango?” she said, holding out the bag to him. He laughed and took a piece, nodding his head in thanks. 

“Hiding are we?” he asked with a chuckle, taking a bite.

“Please save me your judgement, I feel bad enough as it is. It was either hide in here or shout at her. This feels like the least horrible/traumatising option,” she defended herself, nodding her head towards the propped up phone. Rodrigo pulled her closer, pressing a kiss against her temple as they watched their daughter perform to her heart’s content on the camera feed.

“I know mi vida, only teasing. I could hear her upstairs. How about I text the other dads in the squad and have a playdate at the park?” 

He felt her body relax against him, the guilt draining out of her. 

“That would be a lifesaver. If you could also uninstall Alexa, I will be forever grateful,” she muttered against the fabric of his shirt as she hid her face against his chest. Rodrigo laughed again, running a hand down her back as he sent a quick message in the WhatsApp group with the other. 

“I’ll talk to her about how often she can play the same song and see if we can create a playlist together with her favourite songs. At least then it’s not just the same song 50 times in a row,” he said, pocketing his phone. 

She tipped her head back, looking up at him. He met her eyes with a loving smile.

“You’re the best dad and best husband,” she said softly, reaching up for a quick peck. Rodrigo hummed appreciatively, tightening his arm around her as he kissed her back. They broke apart when they heard the door open.

“Can I have mango and cuddles too?” their daughter asked as she stood in the doorway. Rodrigo lifted her up, resting her on his hip. 

“How about we go play outside when you’ve finished your mango?” he asked her. The little girl nodded excitedly, mouth full of dried fruit. His wife mouthed a thank you as she put the bag back on the shelf. He smiled back at her. It hadn’t been easy in the beginning, and his travelling still made it impossible sometimes, but they had vowed that raising children would be a partnership and Rodrigo would do anything to make life easier for his wife -even if that meant going outside in the miserable Spanish winter. 

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find that girl (underneath the mistletoe)

Player: Rodrigo De Paul Words: 1586 Warnings: None Request: Mistletoe - they've both had a crush on one another for far too long but neither have admitted it. they're at a party before they go their separate ways for christmas and while there, one person (a friend or teammate) goes around with mistletoe and suddenly they're under it and …

For @footballffbarbiex, merry Christmas!

---

Every year the club hosted a Christmas party right after the last game before the winter stop. From the moment she joined the club as a team physio, she had been included in the invitation. This year, Koke and Saúl had pulled out all the stops for an ugly christmas jumper party. She looked around the room, taking in all the decorations. The room looked unrecognisable as the dining hall. There were fake Christmas trees everywhere, decked with multicoloured lights and baubles in all the colours of the rainbow. They had even hung glittery snowflakes from the ceiling. As her eyes scanned the crowd to see if she could find her best friend, she spotted the Argentinian players arriving. Her heart started beating faster when she saw him among them. Rodrigo De Paul. He was dressed in a deep red jumper with white lettering on the front and his jeans clung to his thighs. She couldn’t tell what the jumper said from across the room, but she had a feeling it would play into the playboy label the press had given him. Suffice to say he looked good. Then again, the man could wear a bin bag and still look like a runway model. 

“Here,” her best friend said, giving her a glass of wine, “you look like you need it.” She felt her cheeks heat up and muttered a thanks before taking a large sip. 

“Have you ever told him?” Noa asked, causing her to choke on her wine.

“Careful there,” Marcos said as he turned around, patting her on the back.

She took a deep breath and nodded, still coughing but throwing a glare at Noa. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” Noa said with a grin. 

“Told who what?” Marcos asked, brows knitted together in confusion. She stared at her best friend, silently pleading with her not to say a word. Noa grinned back at her.

“It’s a physio inside joke, you wouldn’t get it,” Noa replied. Marcos looked at them for a moment, but decided to leave the matter alone. 

He took a swig from his beer as his eyes scanned the room. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She looked great in her gold sparkly flared trousers and christmas jumper. Her hair was pulled back in two space buns adorned with more sparkles. Rodrigo felt his lips tug up in a smile as he watched her with her friends. She threw her head back with laughter at a joke Marcos had made, her hand resting on his arm. Jealousy flared up in him, making him tighten the grip on his beer bottle.

“He has a girlfriend already. And it’s not her,” Antoine said as he walked past him. Rodrigo felt a pang of shame at getting caught staring at her.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Rodrigo muttered, taking another sip.

“Sure. You just stare like a lovesick puppy at every woman you meet,” Antoine commented sarcastically. Rodrigo hung his head. He hadn’t meant for it to be that obvious. He thought he had been quite inconspicuous with his feelings for her which had only gotten stronger over the last year or so. Oh, who was he kidding. He’d had a crush on her from the moment he saw her when he joined the club two years ago and Diego had shown him around the facilities.

“Come on Romeo,” Antoine pulled him from his thoughts, “group photo time!” 

He let Antoine drag him over to the other side of the room. He felt a body collide into his so he instinctively wrapped an arm around them to steady them. When he looked down, he looked into her face. 

“S-sorry. Noa pushed a-and-..” 

“It’s okay,” Rodrigo interrupted her, squeezing her to reassure her. She smiled up at him before moving to look at the camera. Rodrigo couldn’t move his eyes from her. Now that he was standing next to her, he could see that she was wearing a green jumper with all the jingle ladies on it in gold and three reindeer dressed as Beyonce. She’d even matched her eyeliner with a sparkly gold wing. 

“Alright everyone, smile for the camera!” the photographer said as he snapped a couple of photos.

“Oh would you look at that,” Antoine said from behind him, stretching an arm above them. Rodrigo looked, seeing what he was holding in his outstretched arm. 

“Hijo de puta,” he muttered when he spotted the mistletoe. Antoine just grinned at him.

“You gotta kiss her, those are the rules,” Marcos said with a wicked grin. She looked from his face to their group of friends and back at him. She bit her lip and quickly kissed him on his cheek, standing on her tiptoes to reach him.

“Na ah, that doesn’t count as a kiss!” Antoine said. Rodrigo was sure his heart would both stop beating and jump out of his chest all at once. His stomach was doing somersaults as he looked at her, his arm still around her waist. 

“It’s fine if you don’t want to, they’re just teasing and being idiots,” she said, smiling at him. Rodrigo noticed how it didn’t reach her eyes. Why did she look so… so disappointed at the prospect of him not wanting to kiss her? That made absolutely no sense. Unless… A glimmer of hope sparked through him. 

“But what if I want to?” he asked, hoping he sounded a lot more sure of himself than he felt.

“Want to what?” He could see the confusion in her eyes. His stomach did another flip while his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Kiss you,” he murmured, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. The sound of his teammates cheering and wolf whistling faded to nothing as he kissed her. He felt her tense up against him and he was about to pull back, apologise and run for the hills, when he felt her relax in his arms and kiss him back. Rodrigo pulled her closer, resting one hand against her cheek. She let out a soft whiny noise that went straight to his groin as he deepened the kiss. 

“Please tell me I’m not making this up,” she said, burying her face in his chest after they broke the kiss to catch their breath. She felt his chuckle vibrate in his chest and peeked to look at him again.

“I could kiss you again just to make sure,” he said, his smile evident in his voice. She nodded, hiding her face in his jumper again. He lifted her head with a finger under her chin and brushed his lips against hers once more. Her eyes fluttered closed and her hands grabbed at his jumper. She felt him lick against her lips, seeking entrance. She could taste the beer on his tongue. Wanting to feel closer, she rose up on her tiptoes, moving one hand from his jumper to his neck, running her fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He let out a low moan, moving one of his hands lower to just above her bum. Rodrigo broke the kiss, but kept his hand there. 

“Still think you’re making it up?” he asked her with a cheeky grin. She bit her lip, shaking her head.

“Good,” he murmured, “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to kiss you like this.” 

“Two years!” Antoine called from somewhere behind her. “He’s been in love with y- ow! Jan!” 

She turned to see Antoine pouting and rubbing his arm where Jan had presumably punched him. 

“Stop meddling, Griezmann,” the goal keeper chastised him. She turned to look at Rodrigo when the realisation of what Antoine had tried to say hit her.

“Wait… You-.. You’ve been.. For two years? How…” she trailed off, not finishing any of her sentences. She saw a blush staining his cheeks and she was sure that if he hadn’t had his arms still wrapped around her, he’d be fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. 

“I uh,” he started, not quite meeting her eyes, “I’ve had the biggest crush on you ever since I first saw you. Just never had the courage to tell you..” 

She couldn’t stop staring. This had to be some kind of joke. How had she not seen it? Now it made sense why he would always pop in with her favourite Starbucks drink or for a chat. 

“Oh my God, I am so stupid. I was too busy not tripping over myself every time you walked into the room to notice that all this time you felt the same way,” she said, burying her face in his chest again. 

“The same way?” he repeated slowly. Rodrigo usually prided himself in being quick, he had to be as a midfielder, but right now he was lost. 

“Oh my God, you two are even worse than I thought,” Noa exclaimed, “She’s been in love with you probably just as long as you’ve been with her. The only two people who didn’t know were you two.” 

“So we decided to help a little,” Marcos added. 

“Don’t say we never give you anything brother,” Antoine said, his trademark grin in place.

“A headache. You give me headaches,” Rodrigo deadpanned. He could swear he heard Jan mutter welcome to the club under his breath. 

“And a girlfriend!” Antoine added cheerfully. Rodrigo had to give him that. Out of all the Secret Santa gifts, this might be the best one yet. 

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