Marc Bartra [~] Relax

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For ghina_jr11: Marc Bartra

Being the girlfriend of a famous footballer came with perks and drawbacks. And the biggest drawback for you, recently at least, was the lack of time you got to spend with Marc. You two liked to cuddle constantly and otherwise just be in each other's presence for as much of the day that was possible. But, recently, that hadn't been happening.

Marc would leave early in the day and return in the afternoon, tired beyond belief. He'd give you a quick kiss before trudging upstairs to 'change' but you'd always find him curled up on the bed, snoring, and fast asleep. You could see that it was taking a toll on Marc too. He was working so hard and the rewards had yet to follow, which was highly frustrating for your boyfriend.

Wanting to help sooth his tense self, and to get a little alone time with him, you decided you would plan a special night for him. Setting up the table in the bathroom properly, you laid towels over the plush table. As a certified masseuse, you knew the perfect way how to get your boyfriend to relax a bit. The front door opening caused you to rush out of the bathroom, hoping that you hadn't accidently blown out some of the candles after your mad dash out of the bathroom.

As usual, a tired Marc stood in the living room of your shared home, his bag discarded and lying next to the doorframe as it usually was. He gave you a small smile as you bounded down the steps. He extended his arms and you ran straight into them, relishing in the tender moment before you pulled out of the hug. "I have a little surprise for you, Marc," your eyes twinkled as you told him.

"You do? What is it, and why are you still in your work uniform, I thought you had the day off?" Marc asked, looking at your plain blue dress you were forced to wear at your job.

"Well if I told you, it wouldn't really be a surprise now would it?" you smirked, pulling him towards your master bedroom. Opening the door to your on suite master bathroom, Marc's arm fell limp by his side as he stared around at the set up. He turned to look at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Do I get one of your world famous massages, Ms. (Y/L/N)?" he smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist and laying his head on your own.

"Free of charge. I'll leave you to get set up," you winked, walking out of the room, closing the door behind you. Walking over to your work bag, you picked out certain oils to use before walking back over to the bathroom door. Knocking on the door lightly, Marc told you to come into the room. Opening the door slowly, you rolled your eyes at how your boyfriend lay.

He was laying on his back, his head resting on his hand. "Like what you see?" he wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to giggle.

"Lay on your stomach," you ordered, placing your oils on the counter top next to the table. With a huff and a mutter under his breath, Marc rolled over so that he was properly situated for you to give him a massage. Dipping your fingers lightly in the scented oil, you started at his shoulders. You ended up straddling him to properly reach the knots in his back.

You hummed to yourself as you worked the knots out of his back. Marc's soft sighs made you smile. He hadn't been able to relax for a while because he was so busy with Barcelona and then Spain but he had the next two weeks off for whatever he wanted to do. And you would relish every moment you had with him over that two week period.

Marc groaned as you reached a big knot in his lower back. "That's what I get for mouthing off," he muttered to himself.

"What'd you do?"

"I muttered that 'this was stupid' under my breath during practice and had to do fifty pushups after the fact. Pushups always hurt my lower back," Marc explained.

"I can tell, it's a huge knot," you informed, finally working the knot down to size. His back now free of troublesome knots, you worked on his feet and legs. Marc's soft snoring made you smile as you finished his left leg and started on his right. Feeling a troublesome spot on his right thigh, you tried to get it out, which resulted in Marc nearly leaping off the table. "Did I hurt you?" you quickly asked, afraid that your carelessness had resulted in adding more stress and pain to Marc's already filled plate.

"N-N-Nope. I'm fine," Marc stuttered, turning beet red, which made you raise an eyebrow.

"Did I do something wrong?" you questioned, walking back around to the front of the table, kneeling down so that you were eye level with Marc. You repeated your earlier question, which caused Marc to avoid your eye contact. "Marc," you whined, getting very annoyed with your boyfriend's suddenly allusive behavior. "What is wrong, Marc?" Straddling his back once more, you tried to get him to look at you or speak to you by massaging his neck, where you knew he was highly ticklish. "Marc Bartra, I am being completely serious right now," you warned.

Marc rolled over so that you were now straddling his chest. He was still beet red and his pulse was elevated (you could feel his heart beat because your hand was over his heart). "It's nothing," he insisted, looking highly uncomfortable.

"It's not nothing if it made you so uncomfortable, now what's wrong?" you asked him, massaging his pecks lightly, your fingers still wet with scented oils.

"It's just an awkward thing," Marc mumbled, his face turning redder by the second. From past experience, you knew immediately what he meant by an awkward thing.

"You think you're the first guy that's done that while I gave them a massage?" you raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend.

"Wait, is that normal?"

"I wouldn't call it normal, but it's definitely not out of the ordinary for anyone in the massage business," you replied. Leaning forward, you whispered a single statement into Marc's ear. "If you are being needy, all you had to do was ask." Yep, you definitely knew what you would be doing the whole two weeks Marc had off, or more like who you would be doing.

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