For sam5617: Marco Reus

You were invited to a German national team party. It was an invite only party and you had made the guest list because you were one of the most influential German singers in the country. You and your best friend attended the event, posing for the paparazzi, before entering the building. It was a charity event to help spread football around the world, which Germany was hosting as the winners of the 2014 World Cup. Your best friend dragged you away from a group that you were talking to.

"What is wrong with you?" you asked, knowing the answer to the question, having been best friends for five years, but you just wanted to hear her say it.

"There's nothing wrong with me! Did you hear about the dating auction? Whoever bids the most wins a date with a guy from the team! Of course, only the single guys are in the auction, but I'm so going to try and grab me a footballer," your best friend gushed as the two of you walked over to the event.

"Of course I know about the dating auction, I'm the one that's running it. You know, you could just go to a game and meet them like most people do. That's how I met them," you replied, standing near the front of the stage. Before your best friend could babble on anymore, you got the signal from the back stage crew. "I got to go, I'll talk to you when I get back." Climbing up the stairs, you walked into the hallway where some of the guys were all sitting and standing, waiting for the event to get under way.

"You have five minutes," the backstage manager told you. You nodded and made your way over to the guys.

"(Y/N), looking as good as ever," Marco winked at you.

"Flirting will get you nowhere Reus, it's only got you a drink in the face over the course of two years," you said, giving him a look that said 'don't try me'. Ever since you had met him, Marco flirted with you. You had met him at a German national team match and afterwards, he had always taken to flirting with you. It annoyed you, especially with all the female attention he got.

"Oh, hurts me every time," he feigned getting shot in the heart. Before you could reply, the backstage manager motioned for you to walk onto stage. "Go get 'em, tiger," Marco called from behind you, making you scowl. The curtains moved aside and you plastered a smile on your face. Walking out onto stage, you just smiled for a moment until the cheers died down.

"On behalf of the German national football team and the Football around the World Foundation, thank you for coming here tonight. Today we have a few of the finest men in all of Germany waiting to be auctioned off for a date. A date and place for each of them has been set and this is not refundable. All proceeds go to the Football around the World Foundation. And without further ado, I turn this over to our fine men in suits," you stated before walking back stage. The guys went up one by one, as you stood just in the crowd. Marco was the last guy to go, and then you would hop back up onto stage and close the event with a small speech.

You could see your best friend squeal when Erik Durm walked out. Actually, most of the female population in the room started fangirling, however slightly, over him. You laughed when your best friend lost the bidding war, knowing her favorite was still up for grabs. The rest of the guys trickled out until last of all, Mr. Marco Reus walked out from backstage, a smirk on his face.

You rolled your eyes at him as your best friend made her way over to you. "You aren't going to bid for Marco?" she asked. Hearing the next bidding, she raised your hand and shouted out the amount.

"(Y/F/N)!?! What the hell are you doing?" you hissed.

"Getting you a date," she whispered, raising your hand again.

"Stop doing that!"

"It's not my fault you have such weak arm strength," she sassed.

"Can you just please stop it?" you asked, exasperated.

"Fine," she shrugged. The two of you watched the bidding continue.

"Going once . . . going twice—" Before you knew what was happening, your friend put your hand in the air and shouted out the amount. "Going once . . . going twice . . . sold to Ms. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)!" the man running the bidding shouted. You shot a glare at your friend before walking up to the stage. After you shook Marco's hand, you closed the event with the speech they had given you. The crowd started to disappear when you felt a hand wrap around your waist.

"You know you could have just told me that you wanted to go on a date, (Y/N), would have made it a lot easier," Marco teased.

"Oh, please. My friend kept throwing my arm in the air, and it's for charity. Not to solve some hormonal crave that you seem to always have," you shot back, pulling out your check book. "How much did I pay for you?" After you had filled out the check, you handed it to the woman from the foundation, who thanked you graciously for your donation. Walking away from her, you walked straight into Marco's chest. "There's this thing called personal space, Marco. I suggest you learn it soon."

"Oh, but I was hoping we could cuddle on our date," Marco whined, hugging you tightly.

"Let go of me, for God's sakes!"

"Buzz kill," Marco muttered, falling in step with you. "But, you did pay the most money for a guy tonight. And that guy was me," Marco wined.

"How could I forget with you constantly in my ear about it? And if some of the guys that are married or dating were in that auction, you wouldn't have been the most money. Trust me, I saw plenty of woman eying Julian and Mats like they were pieces of meat.

"Oh, right in the heart every time," Marco sighed, hands on his heart, feigning being shot again. You growled in annoyance. One date turned into two dates, and you slowly started to like Marco. Like turned to love and before you knew it, Marco was annoying you once more. But, no longer was he some pesky footballer who didn't have anything better to do. He was now your pesky husband.