Soccer/Football Imagines

Marc Bartra [~] Caught Almost in the Act

Thank you all for waiting, especially those who have been waiting patiently for your requests to be written. If you read the last author's note, you'll know why they're late and I once again sincerely apologize for the delay. I'll work quickly to try and finish the other requests. Long story short, they caught the guy and my cars being fixed so, I'm good to go. On with the story.

For ghina_jr11: Marc Bartra (sorry for the wait and hope this is the type of awkward you were talking about)

You and Marc had been dating for nearly two years when he asked you to move in with him. You had agreed to his request and by the end of the next month, you were completely moved into Marc's house. Your sister and her boyfriend, who happened to be Sergi Roberto, Marc's best friend, were to come to your and Marc's house that day to eat lunch together.

Your sister had been the one that had originally set up you and Marc on a blind date because, at the time, she had been best friends with Sergi. You repaid her by getting her and Sergi together, you had set up a date for them and told him if he didn't ask her out, he would lose her. Not wanting to lose her to any other guy out there, he had asked her out and they were now happily together.

Likewise, you and Marc had felt a connection at your first meeting. He kept asking you on dates until you had finally asked him if he wanted to continue in the relationship beyond all the dates he asked you to. After turning beet red and stammering incoherent sentences for a decent amount of time, he had asked you to be his girlfriend.

And here you were, just over two years later, in the kitchen of your shared home. The boys had early practice but would be home in time for lunch. You had decided to cook some paella for the occasion. The (Y/L/N) secret recipe. Marc and Sergi had never had it and you and your sister agreed that if they were going to become a part of your family, they would have to at least try the family's infamous paella.

You remembered fondly watching your father cook it in the kitchen after getting home from work as your mother got you and your sister ready for dinner. He had beckoned you over one time, and you had learned how to make the paella. You and your sister, however, were sworn to secrecy and couldn't tell your boyfriends the recipe. That is, until they put a diamond ring on your finger and signed a marriage contract, as your mother had put it so elegantly.

The paella was nearly finished when Marc entered your shared home. He walked into the kitchen as you removed the paella from the stove top, allowing it to cool slightly before you would serve it for lunch. Two strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, tightening when you tried to wiggle out of them. "Marc, I have to clean up," you whined, turning around and resting your hands on the hard planes of Marc's chest. He pouted. "Put away the puppy dog eyes," you ordered, knowing that if you stared at them for too long, you would surely crack under his gaze.

"But I want to have some us time," Marc smirked, resting his hands on your waist. He leaned down and started kissing your neck, making you suck in a breath.

"Marc, Sergi and (Y/S/N) will be here soon," you hissed, trying to hold back your desire.

"We have time. They're always late," Marc reminded you.

"Very true," you sighed as Marc peppered kisses up and down your neck. "A little quicky wouldn't hurt anyone," you finally conceded. You could feel Marc's smirk as his hands attached to your waist, picking you off the ground. Wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, Marc's hands travelled down to your butt. "You are so touchy today," you murmured as Marc pulled you into a searing kiss.

"How can't I be? I have the most beautiful girl in all of Spain in my kitchen," Marc winked, setting you down on the countertop. Your top soon came off, leaving you in just your bra, underwear, and skirt. Marc's shirt soon joined your shirt as Marc hitched up your skirt some more. You let out a throaty moan as Marc sucked at the newly revealed skin, after he discarded your bra. Your front door opened up, displaying you and Marc's position to the people who had opened the door.

"Jeez, we weren't that late!" you sister joked as Marc rushed to cover you with his own body.

"You could have knocked!" you shouted indignantly, searching desperately for your bra. Seeing its strap hanging out of the sink you gave Marc a deadpanned look. Your bra was soaked because you had been soaking the pot you had made the food it, to help the gunk get off easier.

"We did, but it seems like you guys were a little busy," Sergi laughed loudly, closing the door behind him.

"Let's not forget the time we saw you two at it!" Marc accused, still covering you with his body.

"Well we had enough decency to do it in the bedroom! I hope we're not eating in the kitchen," your sister shot back.

"If you'll excuse us for a moment," you shot your sister a mock glare as Marc carried you up to your bedroom so that you could put on non-ruined clothes. After you had changed, you walked downstairs. Marc had thrown your discarded clothes into the wash and had set out the paella, plates, and utensils while you had been changing.

You four sat around the table, Marc and you trying to avoid the topic about how you had almost been caught. "We need a sign, you know? Like a 'Do Not Enter' sign," your sister brought up.

"That's a good idea, I don't think my eyes could see that again, or worse," Sergi jokingly agreed.

"At least we weren't completely naked!"

"At least we were in the bedroom. Did you even make sure the windows were shut before you started all that," your sister replied.

"They're always closed. Paparazzi," you sighed. No way in hell would you want photos of you and Marc at it plastered across every single newspaper in all of Spain. You'd be the laughing stock of Catalonia before you could blink.

"Fine, what would said sign look like?" Marc questioned.

"Hmm, just put a Barcelona crest upside down," your sister answer, a smirk on her face.

"I'd wipe that smirk off your face, missy. Lest you want paella in your hair," you threatened jokingly.

"Which, by the way, is the best paella I've ever had," Sergi said through a few mouthfuls.

"Yeah, what's the recipe?" Marc asked.

"Can't tell you," you and your sister stated immediately.

"Why not?" Sergi raised an eyebrow.

"It's a secret family recipe, so you either put a ring on it," you started.

"Or sign a marriage contract," your sister finished. You and her shared a look before bursting into giggles, causing Marc and Sergi to become even more confused than they were before.