#rodrigo riquelme x y/n

[the-offside-rule]

Rodrigo Riquelme (Atheltico Madrid) - Falling For You

Requested: no

Warnings: none

The summer sun bathed Madrid in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows across the city as the day stretched into evening. Rodrigo Riquelme, now a rising star at Atletico Madrid, leaned back in his chair in the living room of one of his teammates, drinking up the bottles of Estrella Galicia. The lively hum of the city outside and the excited chatter amongst his friends had served as the perfect backdrop for his thoughts, which inevitably drifted to her. His mind always drifted to her

Y/n

They had met years ago, when they were just kids. They were two promising talents in the Spanish junior squads. Rodrigo, with his flair and creativity on the pitch, and Y/n, who played with a precision and fire that made her a force to be reckoned with in the Barcelona Femení. Their connection had been instant, a bond forged in the shared intensity of their training sessions and the countless hours spent together during youth camps. As the years passed and their careers took them in different directions, their paths rarely crossed outside of the national team camps. She in Barcelona, he in Madrid. It seemed they were always just a few hundred kilometers apart, close enough to imagine, but too far to see regularly. The texts they once sent regularly became spontaneous, and it stayed that way until the next summer.

Summer was different. Summer brought with it a sense of freedom, a chance to reconnect with friends and memories from a time before professional obligations took over. Every summer, Rodrigo wondered if this might be the summer they'd find a way to spend more time together, and every summer, the opportunity never seemed to present itself. Until now.

Rodrigo was the first of his teammates to leave the house. He was meant to do a recovery session tomorrow and he wanted to do it eearly and get it over and done with. "Vamos, todos saldremos esta noche, únete a nosotros. No nos quedaremos mucho tiempo." Antoine, his french colleague said. Night had fallen, and the city had come alive with its usual vibrancy and Rodrigo couldnt help himself. Something was telling him to head out. And so, Rodrigo headed out with his team and decided to hit the town for a night out. It was rare for him to let loose, especially during the season, but summer provided a brief respite, a chance to unwind. They settled on a popular club in the heart of the city, a place known for its lively atmosphere and good music.

As they approached the entrance, Rodrigo’s eyes were drawn to a familiar figure standing under the neon lights. Y/n. She was standing with a group of friends, laughing at something someone had said. The sight of her sent a rush of emotions through him, ones he had tried to push down for years. But seeing her now, looking so effortlessly beautiful, brought everything back. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should approach, but before he could decide, she looked up and their eyes met. Her face lit up in recognition, and she waved him over with an excited grin.

“Rodri!” She called out, her voice cutting through the noise of the crowd. “What are you doing here?” She grinned, pulling him in for a hug. “Just out with some friends.” He replied, trying to keep his tone casual. “Same. It’s been too long! You should join us.” Rodrigo’s heart skipped a beat at her invitation. This was what he had always hoped for; a chance to reconnect, even if just for a night. “I’d love to.” Inside, the club was packed, the music loud and the lights flashing in time with the beats. They found a corner where they could talk without shouting over the music, and soon, they were deep in conversation, catching up on everything they had missed in each other’s lives.

Rodrigo couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was even more captivating than he remembered. There was a warmth in her eyes, a confidence in her smile that drew him in completely. “Do you remember that time in the junior squad-” Y/n said with a laugh. “When we snuck out after curfew to get churros?” He chuckled, nodding. “I do. We were almost caught by the coaches, too.” Y/n's hand rested on his thigh. “Yeah, but we ran so fast, I think we could have beaten our own records that night.” Rodrigo looked down to her hand. Scars from times boots had trambked them, her nails slightly longer and painted with a fresh French tip. "You okay?" She asked, noticing he has zoned out. "Of course, I think the drink is just starting to hit." He chuckled.

As the night progressed, the drinks flowed, and the group moved to the dance floor. Rodrigo wasn’t much of a dancer, but with Y/n, it was different. They moved in sync, caught up in the music and the atmosphere around them. At one point, she pulled him closer, her smile playful. “You’re not too bad at this, Rodri.” She winked. “Not as good as you." He replied, his voice low, the proximity making his heart race. He spun her around, but as she got dizzy, she fell into him. His arm wrapped around her waist as his free hand found their way to hers. She placed her hand gently onto his shoulder and danced along with him. "No me tientes." He murmured into her ear. "No estoy tratando de." She replied innocently. "No eres un angelita."

"No?Qué soy yo entonces, Roro?" She rasped as she swayed her hips into him. A lazy grin appeared on his lips. "Eres un mal pensamiento en mi cabeza." Her gaze guided down to his lips and back to his eyes. "Lo siento, Roro." Both her hands hung around his neck and shoulders as she swayed out of him lazily. "No te disculpes. No me importa tenerte en mi cabeza." Their lips brushed against one another, one wrong move and they would be touching.

The night seemed to stretch out forever, yet passed in a blur at the same time. They danced, they laughed, and for the first time in a long while, Rodrigo felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of them. As the club began to wind down, Y/n suggested they get some fresh air. “How about we grab something to eat? I’m starving.” Rodrigo nodded eagerly, happy to extend their time together. “There’s a McDonald’s not too far from here. Let’s go.”

They walked through the quiet streets of Madrid, the city now more serene after the high energy of the club. The neon signs of McDonald’s welcomed them, and they placed their orders with the casual ease of old friends. They found a table in a quiet corner and settled in with their food. The atmosphere was relaxed, comfortable, but Rodrigo could feel a nervous energy building inside him. The alcohol had loosened his tongue, but it was more than that—he was tired of holding back what he felt.

"So, how is barcelona treating you?" He asked, sipping his milkshake. "Treating me well. I think Chelsea wants to buy me though." She shrugged. "I don't mind where I go." Rodrigo placed his milkshake onto the table. He swallowed hard. She was going to leave for good if she ended up in Chelsea. No more random house visits when he would be playing anywhere near her. He wouldn't have the chance. "Why would you move to London?" He asked. "Maybe the boys are nicer there." She replied, melancholy lacing her words. "What's wrong with the boys here." She couldn't bring herself to answer. She was drunk, yes, but not drunk enough to ramble on about her feelings for him. She looked down to the tray in front of her, fries sprawled over it.

“Y/n-" He began, his hand taking her's. “What's wrong with the boys here?" She looked up at him, her eyes curious but encouraging. “They're nothing like you." He took a deep breath, his heart pounding. “Then just love me. Just fall in love with me. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember." Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything, just looked at him as if processing his words. Rodrigo felt the world stop, waiting for her reaction.

“You don't have to say anything-” He paused, his thumb now rubbing her soft skin. “But it’s true. Every summer, I hoped we’d have more time together, and every time we did, it just made it harder for me to forget how I feel about you.” Y/n was silent for what felt like an eternity, and Rodrigo’s nerves began to fray. But then she smiled, a soft, almost relieved smile, and reached across the table to caress his cheek. “Rodri-” She said quietly. He hummed in response. "I think you'd should tell me this when you're sober." His eyebrows scrunched. "I don't have the courage without the alcohol. At least if you reject me now, I can blame the drink." He squeezed her hand. "Run away with me." She chuckled. "What? Move to Atletico?"

"Exactly." She blinked a few times, taking in his suggestion. "Roro, I couldn't. I won't. I love Barcelona too much to do that." She replied. "But, if they do intend on selling you, I am begging you move to Atletico." She bit back a smile. "Let me think about it." Rodrigo looked down to her lips and without thinking, he leaned across the table and kissed her. It was a gentle, tentative kiss, as if testing the waters, but when she responded, it deepened, turning into something that spoke of all the years of longing and unspoken feelings.

When they finally pulled back, both were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they smiled. "Is that enough time for you to think?" She shook her head. "I need a little more time, but as for this-" Y/n paused, her hand still holding his. "I don't need to think about this at all." Rodrigo smiled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. “I'd hoped you wouldn't."

They stayed there, talking long into the night, making plans, sharing dreams, and basking in the newness of a love that had been years in the making. The city outside continued to hum with life, but for Rodrigo and Y/n, time seemed to stand still in that small corner of the world.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The next morning, as the sun began to rise over Madrid, Rodrigo and Y/n found themselves walking back to their hotel, hand in hand. The city was just waking up, the streets slowly filling with people starting their day, but for the two of them, it felt like a new beginning. As they reached her hotel, Y/n turned to him with a smile. “This summer is going to be different, isn’t it?” Rodrigo nodded, his heart full. “Yeah, it is. And I can’t wait to see where it takes us.” They shared one last kiss before parting ways, knowing that this was just the start of something beautiful. As Rodrigo walked back to his hotel, he couldn’t help but feel that, for the first time in a long time, everything was exactly as it should be.

[itzsyds]

Rodrigo “Roro” Riquelme x Reader

First meeting🥺

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Hey guys! I am starting to write for new players. Rodrigo being one of them❤️‍🩹 I will hopefully be taking new requests as I go on. I enjoyed writing this one!! He’s such a cutie & defo deserves more game time🥹

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FLUFF- The first time when Roro laid his eyes on Y/N. For the sake of the story can we please pretend that Atlético advanced to the quarter finals of the CL! I know there’s controversy around who should off.

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It was the evening of Arsenal V Atlético Madrid in the first leg of the Quarter Finals at the Emirates Stadium.

As one of Atlético’s bright young talents, Roro was used to the roar of the crowd and the relentless passion of rivalry. However, nothing could have prepared him for the unexpected twist that he would occur later that evening.

In the midst of the electric atmosphere, where the chants and cheers created a symphony of excitement, Roro’s eyes caught a glimpse of someone who seemed just as captivated by the unfolding drama.

There, in a corner of the stadium, was a girl whose fiery determination and gentle smile shone through even amid the sea of supporters. She was gorgeous, absolutely breathtaking, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her during the warm up which led to Pablo giving him the nudge when he stood dead still in the middle.

“Bro what happened. Why are you not continuing the drills” Pablo exclaimed, wondering why Roro had so suddenly stopped.

“Nothing bro. My mind was elsewhere I just couldn’t focus because I got a little distracted”

“And would that little distraction be a particular something or someone Roro?” Pablo smirked joining the dots together as he realised Roro was still staring curiously at the mysterious brunette in the home stands.

Roro caught onto Pablo’s realisation, snapping him out of his trance—he had been caught, which led him to scratch the back of his ear out of embarrassment.

Pablo chuckled. “Bro I agree she is stunning but put that aside, we have to win tonight. We cannot be wasting time. Focus.”

After that brief pep talk with Pablo, he then noticed that she wasn’t repping the famous Atlético red, white and blue colours.

Of course she was an Arsenal fan, how could he be so stupid not to realise that she was in the home end and not the away end. Roro wanted to slap himself at how mesmerised her was by her.

This fact would have normally set off alarms in the heart of an Atlético player. Yet, it didn’t for him, yes he felt stupid but during this moment of realisation he noticed her staring back as their eyes met. In that moment there was an instant, unspoken connection—a spark that defied team loyalties.

He had to get her number after the game. He just couldn’t lose this opportunity but he also had to focus on the game. He would worry about approaching her afterwards.

The first half was a whirlwind of intensity, with Arsenal pressing hard and Atlético countering with sharp precision. But Roro’s focus wavered, his mind slipping back to the mysterious girl in the stands. He caught himself scanning the crowd more often than he should have, searching for her even when the ball was at his feet. Boy he was entranced by her beauty.

As it approached to halftime the score was level—1-1. The locker room buzzed with tension and determination, but Roro found himself distracted. Pablo nudged him again, a teasing smirk on his face.

“You going to play football or daydream, lover boy?” Pablo quipped, earning a few chuckles from the other players.

Roro shot him a glare but couldn’t hide the sheepish grin creeping onto his face. “Shut up, man.”

As the players continued with their halftime debrief, it came time to get back on the pitch for the second half, Roro pushed the distraction aside, driving forward with renewed focus. A flick, a feint, a clever pass—he was back in his element. But even the adrenaline of the match couldn’t entirely drown out the thought of her.

The final whistle blew. Atlético had edged out Arsenal 2-1, securing a crucial away win. The players celebrated, exchanging high-fives and embraces, but Roro’s eyes darted back to the stands. Panic seized him—she was gone.

He cursed under his breath, scanning the crowd in vain. The stadium was emptying fast, fans streaming toward the exits. He couldn’t let her slip away. Mind racing, he spotted a stadium steward and jogged over.

“Hey, did you see a girl—uh, brunette, wearing an Arsenal jersey? She was sitting up there.” He gestured wildly, but the steward shrugged, muttering something about thousands of fans and how impossible it was to notice only one. He must have thought Roro was crazy.

Pablo jogged over, sweat-soaked but grinning.

“Still hung up on that girl? Bro, you’re hopeless!”

Roro sighed at Pablo’s jibes, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t explain it, man. It felt… different.”

Pablo clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She was staring back, right? Bet she noticed you. Have some faith. Maybe you’ll get lucky next time.”

Roro forced a smile, though disappointment gnawed at him. The team after their celebrations headed back to the bus, but as they neared the players’ entrance, a voice called out.

“Roro!”

He whipped around. Standing at the barrier, clutching a matchday program and looking slightly nervous, was the girl. The same determined spark in her eyes was now tinged with shyness.

“I thought I’d missed you,” she admitted, biting her lip.

Roro’s heart raced, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. “I was looking for you too. Guess we both got lucky.”

She laughed, and the sound was like a melody that settled the nerves in his chest.

“I’m Y/N,” she said.

“I’m Roro,” he replied, then winced at the stupid introduction. “But you probably already knew that.”

She smirked. “Maybe.”

The conversation flowed easily, as if they’d known each other far longer than a chance encounter. After a few minutes, Roro cleared his throat.

“I don’t want to push my luck, but would you mind if I got your number?” he asked, hopeful.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Even if I’m an Arsenal fan?”

He chuckled. “I think I can overlook it.”

She scribbled her number on the back of the matchday program, handing it to him with a teasing smile. “Don’t lose it.”

“I won’t,” Roro promised, already planning their next meeting. As he walked away, he glanced back, catching her gaze one more time. The unspoken connection was still there—stronger than ever.

Pablo shook his head as Roro boarded the bus, smiling like a Cheshire cat. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”

Roro leaned back in his seat, a stupid grin on his face. “Yeah, I think I do but she seems worth it Pablo.” Roro continued smiling as he recalled their small but memorable interaction, staring out the bus window.

The bus ride back to the hotel was a blur for Roro. The celebration over the crucial away win felt distant, overshadowed by the thought of Y/N. He kept glancing at the scribbled number on the matchday program, tracing her neat handwriting with his thumb.

Pablo leaned over from the seat behind him, eyes glimmering with mischief. “You look like a kid who just met his superhero.”

Roro rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “It’s different, man. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Oh, I think you’ve explained it enough,” Pablo continued teasing. “Just don’t get too distracted, lover boy. We still have a second leg to win.”

Roro chuckled but couldn’t deny the truth. The tournament was far from over, and Atlético’s season hung in the balance. But as the bus pulled up to the hotel, the urge to text her gnawed at him. What if she thought he wasn’t interested if he waited too long?

He typed a message and deleted it twice before settling on:

Roro: Hey, it’s Roro. Hope you made it home okay. Also, I’m sorry about the loss—kind of.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The screen glowed back at him, the message marked as delivered.

Minutes ticked by without a response, and he wondered if he’d messed up.

The team filed into the hotel lobby, and Roro checked his phone obsessively, but nothing. His teammates laughed and joked around him, the buzz of victory filling the air.

Pablo shot him a smirk. “Still no reply?”

Roro sighed. “Not yet. Maybe I came off too cocky.”

“Or maybe she’s just busy. Relax, man,” Pablo said, patting him on the back before heading to the elevators.

In his room, Roro dropped onto the bed, phone clutched in his hand. He was about to put it down when it buzzed. Heart racing, he unlocked it to see:

Y/N: I did, thanks! And don’t get too cocky—there’s still a second leg ;)

Congrats on the win, though. You played well.

Relief washed over him. He grinned, fingers flying across the screen.


Roro: Careful, you’ll make me blush :)


Y/N: Wouldn’t want to distract you again. Pablo might kill me.


Roro: Nah, he’d just roast me in front of the whole team. By the way, I’d love to see you again. Maybe when I’m back in London?

The dots danced as Y/N typed.


Y/N: That depends. Are you planning on knocking Arsenal out of the tournament?🤨


Roro: I can’t promise anything—but if we win, I’ll make it up to you. Deal?


Y/N: Deal. I’ll hold you to that x

The conversation flowed easily, playful banter mixed with genuine interest. Roro fell asleep with a satisfied grin, her number saved, and their chat pinned to the top of his messages.

The next few days were a whirlwind of training and preparation for the second leg in Madrid. Roro and Y/N texted whenever they could—late at night and in between sessions. Conversations ranged from football rivalries and teasing to dreams, family, and hidden fears. The more he got to know her, the deeper he felt for her.

Finally, the second leg arrived. The Riyadh Air Metropolitano Stadium was a fortress, filled with the deafening roar of Atlético’s faithful. The tension was palpable as players lined up in the tunnel. Roro could feel his pulse racing, adrenaline coursing through him.

Pablo slapped his back, grinning.

“Nervous? Or just thinking about your girl in red?”

Roro smirked. “Both. But we’re winning tonight.”

The match was fierce, a back-and-forth battle as Arsenal fought to overturn the deficit. Roro played with a fire he hadn’t felt before, determination and something more pushing him forward. In the 70th minute, he slipped past a defender and rifled a shot into the bottom corner—goal.

The stadium erupted.

He couldn’t help himself. Running to the corner flag, he made a heart shape with his hands, hoping the cameras would capture it. He didn’t care if his teammates teased him—he knew who it was for.

The final whistle blew—3-2 on aggregate. Atlético was through. The stadium thundered with celebration, and Roro felt the weight of the match melt away. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

In the dressing room, his phone buzzed.

Y/N: I shouldn’t even be saying this because you knocked us out. But nice goal. And cute celebration. I guess you owe me now?


Roro: Sorry :( forgive me?

Name the time and place. I’ll be there.


Y/N: We will see about being forgiven.

How about tomorrow? I know a great café near the Emirates.


Roro: Perfect. It’s an apology date :)

Pablo caught sight of the exchange and groaned dramatically. “Seriously, man? You’re going all soft. She’s going to turn you into an Arsenal fan before you know it and transfer you to the Emirates.”

Roro laughed, unbothered. “Nah, I might just make her an Atlético fan instead.”

Pablo snorted. “Good luck with that.”

But as Roro looked down at Y/N’s name on his screen, he couldn’t help but think he had all the luck he needed in her.

—

Hey guys! I am back again😭 I do this a lot but whenever I feel inspired enough I turn up again. So sorry!

I am also gonna write for a few more footballers on the master-list & maybe more as some of them don’t get as much recognition & appreciation. Roro is one of them!!

I just had to write for Roro because I’ve had such a big crush on him since he was at Bournemouth in the Championship ages ago! He’s so cute🥹 & defo deserves more game time at Atlético. This defo hurt me to write as an Arsenal fan but worked out better than what I had originally planned. So gutted Atlético didn’t advance to the QF as they would be playing us instead🥲 x