Soccer imagines

•Marc bartra•

Credits to habeshashawty
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To be quite frank, I enjoyed being single. The fact that I could walk around my apartment with baggy a T-shirt and nothing but minimum makeup on was the kind of freedom I lived for.

I liked spending my free weekends curled up on my couch watching reruns of Hawaii 5-O with a pint of ice cream by my side. And to sum things up a little more, single was my middle name.

All of my closest friends begged and begged for me to get out of the house and flaunt the body and personality I'd been blessed with. And I refused on numerous occasions.

So when my friend, Marisol, insisted I go to dinner with her, I said yes for her sake. She's made it very clear that she was envious of me in the best possible way. I'd always been deemed the "perfect" one of our friends.

Though I had far better plans that Saturday night, I accepted and awaited for my friend at the reserved table in the 3-star restaurant of her choice. Fifteen minutes of awaiting her arrival, I began growing more and more impatient. Even receiving sympathetic looks from couples and waiters alike as they passed my empty table only added to my flaring flames.

Y/N: Where are you

Marisol: Turn around noodle head!
Whipping my head around, I was greeted with a very amused Marisol. "Hola, mi corazon." Marisol teased as she brought my body in a tight hug.

"Hola teddy bear." I snickered before taking my seat as she took hers.

"Sorry I'm late, love." She apologized.

"I can't forgive you." I scoffed. "You know I hate tardiness."

"Can you find it in your heart to forgive little old me?" Marisol questioned quirking an eyebrow up.

"Maybe," I smiled, as I took the menu into my hands.

"What are you ordering?"

"Dessert." Marisol simply answered, staring unto something far behind me.

"What are you staring at?" I laughed, as I turned my body around only to catch sight of what she was looking at.

"Only if he would come sit here." She sighed as a small frown crossed her face.

"Yeah, whatever." I chuckled taking a sip from my complementary water.

"Marisol!" I heard a voice exclaim from behind me once again. Confused and a bit curious, I turned once again to search for the source of the voice.

"Primosito!" Marisol exclaimed standing from her seat to leave me dumbfounded at the table.

"Is this the beautiful women you told me about?" The estranged man questioned.

"Shut up." She laughed.

"Y/N, I'd like for you to meet my cousin, Marc." Marisol introduced.

"Very nice to finally meet you. My cousin has said a lot about you." He laughed extending a hand to shake mine.

"All good things I'm hoping?" I laughed, reciprocating his actions.

"Very good things." He answered as he took the empty seat beside his cousin.

"Well won't you look at that!" Marisol exclaimed. "I have an early shift tomorrow and I'm here chitchatting with you two."

"Aw, maybe we can get a rain check?" I suggested.

"No, no that won't do. Marc is only here in Galicia once." She explained. "You won't mind if I leave right?" She questioned turning her attention to me.

"She won't mind." Marc interrupted.

"Okay, bye you two." Marisol smirked before gathering her purse just as she left.

"Well I guess it's only you and me." Marc laughed just as Marisol was out of ear shot.

"Something tells me she doesn't have work tomorrow." I joked, continuing to examine the menu.

"Me too." He agreed, laughing lightly. "Order anything you want, it's on me." He spoke taking one last final glance at the menu.

"So, what did my friend do to get a famous football player to have dinner with me?" I questioned placing my menu on top of his.

"Let's just say she pulled a couple of strings for me to have a date with a beautiful women." Marc admitted, smiling a goofy grin at my confused look.

"Sorry she dragged you out here." I spoke. "Marisol can be very...passionate sometimes." I laughed.

"Enough talk about her." He waved off. "What do you do for a living?"

"Well, I study Economics at University of Vigo." I answered. "I work a part time job at the mall too." I admitted laughing a little.

"That must be fun." Marc admitted.

How could me studying Economics be anything as fun or fufilling as playing with FC Barcelona? Looking over at him weirdly, I continued our conversation. "Nothing much compared to what you do." I professed. "You travel the world to kick a ball around a pitch for crying out loud!"

"It's not as simple as you think." He intervened. "There's the early practices, the late night games and the bench time."

"All worth it, no?" I asked.

"Every single second of it." Marc agreed just as the waiter arrived at our table.

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"I'll walk you home." Marc offered as he held the door open for me just as we left the restaurant.

"That won't be necessary," I declined walking a little ahead of him.

"I insist." He pushed on, catching up with my footsteps.

"If you must." I sighed, beginning to slow down my pace to allow for him to catch up.

"Tell me more about yourself." Marc said, turning to look at me.

"I like shrimp." I admitted.

"That's actually disgusting." He exclaimed adding an over dramatic fake gag at the end.

"Not to me!" I exclaimed defending my cause.

"Anything else you enjoy greatly?" He questioned as we strolled past a densely filled street.

Pondering on what else to confess to the cousin of my closest friend, I'd finally found a subject to tell him. "I hate Real Madrid!" I piped up, only to cause for Marc and I to laugh in unison.

"Don't we all," he laughed. "So any chance of me seeing you another time, Y/N?" Marc questioned as we took a corner onto the street of my residence.

"Not a chance." I snickered. "I barely know you!"

Shocked and a bit taken back, Marc was left dumbfounded as I took the steps up to my home. "See you around, Marcisito!" I teased just as I entered my home only to watch as he walked back to his parked car at the restaurant.

"And that's how I met your papa." I explained, tucking my five year old daughter into her covers.

"Did papa ever come back to get you?" Rosalie questioned, sitting up in her twin sized bed.

"Of course he came after me," I scoffed, flipping my hair a little.

"I want to meet a guy like papa one day." She gushed just as the sleepiness sunk into her ocean-blue eyes.

"So I was the one who came after you?" I heard a voice chuckle from behind me.

Walking right past Marc, I began taking the stairs one-by-one until I was in the confinements of my redesigned kitchen. "Yes you did!" I called out just as Marc joined me in the renovated kitchen he'd redone last summer.

"If I'm remembering correctly, you were the one to beg my prima for my number." He smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Oh shut the hell up, Marc!" I laughed.

"Sheesh, Marc, let a girl dream."

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