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emjayewrites · 2 months ago

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fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (1/10)

SYNOPSIS: Aurélien Tchouaméni, one of football’s rising stars, is used to navigating the pressures of the pitch—but nothing could prepare him for an arranged marriage. With his family’s legacy and cultural traditions at stake, Aurélien reluctantly agrees to marry a woman he barely knows. But as they’re thrust into the public eye, sparks fly in unexpected ways. The two must navigate the complexities of love, duty, and fame, all while figuring out if they’re playing on the same team—or if their hearts are destined for different paths.

PAIRINGS: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Zuri Awanto Nchang (faceclaim Samira Ahmed @/iamsamiira)

WARNINGS: cursing, football b.s., dry humor/wit, slight arguing, friends to lovers, instant attraction, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @trenterprise @f1-football-fiend @lettersofgold @hopefulromantic1 @deonn-jaelle @vile-harlot @perfecttrashface @queenshikongo3 @2serenity0 @essaysbyciara @saturnville @trentswrld @planetmimi @muglermami @shepgurl @sucredreamer @julescpu

A/N: Please let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist. Also, a surprise mention in this chapter that links to another story!

The Madrid sun blazed relentlessly as Aurélien jogged across the training pitch, his head pounding with each step. The air hummed with the rhythmic thud of cleats striking balls and the sharp whistles of Coach Ancelotti directing drills. Aurélien grimaced. Last night's tequila shots at Goya Social Club were exacting their revenge.

Whoever invented tequila deserved a special place in hell.

"Bloody hell, he's trying to kill us," Jude Bellingham panted, falling into step beside Aurélien. "You holdin' up alright, mate? You look proper rough."

Aurélien grinned weakly at his teammate's distinctive Brummie accent. "I'm starting to think I should've stayed my ass in bed."

Eduardo Camavinga joined them, looking annoyingly fresh-faced. "What's this? The great Tchouaméni can't handle a little heat and a few drinks?"

"A few?" Aurélien scoffed. "I'm pretty sure I drank half of Mexico last night. Unlike some lightweights who bailed early," he added, eyeing Camavinga pointedly.

They paused near the sidelines, grabbing water bottles from the cooler. Jude took a long swig before turning to Aurélien, his expression softening.

"How're you really doing, though? With everything coming up next month?"

Aurélien's smile faltered slightly. "It’s… whatever. Not trying to dwell on it."

Camavinga clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder. "The arranged marriage, right? Your old man still pushing ahead?"

"Yeah," Aurélien sighed, his casual facade slipping a bit. "It’s a done deal. My fiancée and her family are arriving next month."

Jude shook his head, whistling low. "That’s a lot, mate. And you don’t even know her?"

"Not a clue," Aurélien confirmed. "Dad’s got it all arranged with her family. They even got the blessing from the elders back in Cameroon, but it's mainly my dad driving this whole thing."

"No wonder you've been living it up lately," Camavinga said, his tone sympathetic. "Fuck, I'd be drowning in women too if I knew I was being forced into a random marriage."

"You would've been if you hadn't ghosted us like that," Aurélien retorted. "I'm tired of planning stuff and you back out last minute, bro."

Jude nodded, his face brightening. "Speaking of hanging out, Lila's planning to visit soon. She's keen to catch up with everyone."

Aurélien managed a genuine smile at that. "That's great; it'll be good to see her again." He shook his head in disbelief, still amazed at how Jude had managed to snag Lewis Hamilton's little sister. The young Englishman's charm seemed to know no bounds. "How'd you swing that again?" he teased. "I still can't believe you're dating her. Talk about punching above your weight."

Jude grinned, a hint of pride in his eyes. "What can I say? The Bellingham charm is irresistible."

Camavinga snorted, nudging Jude's shoulder. "Yeah, right. And I'm the King of France."

As they bantered, Aurélien's mind wandered. He thought about the countless nights he'd spent clubbing, the endless amount of pussy, and the carefree laughter shared with teammates. All soon to be replaced by... what? Family dinners and couple's game nights? Sure he loved his family, especially his young siblings, Anne-Maïsha and Yannis, but settling down at twenty-four years of age seems blasphemous. The thought of being married was almost as nauseating as his hangover.

His phone buzzed in his bag - probably another message from his father, Fernand. The reality of his situation was closing in, and Aurélien couldn't help but feel a mix of resignation and resentment. He'd always known this day might come, but the speed at which it was approaching left him reeling.

They continued their training, and Aurélien tried to focus on the present. The feel of the grass beneath his feet, the burn in his muscles as he stretched, the familiar banter with his teammates. But his thoughts kept drifting to his unknown fiancée. Would she laugh at his jokes? Would she understand the offsides rule? Would she realize she was marrying a man whose idea of cooking was not burning toast? Would they even like each other?

An hour or so later, training was over for the day, and he hit the showers. By the time he stepped out onto the parking lot, he was back in his zone. The sun was still blazing as evening slowly drifted on, but he didn't mind. Sliding into his ride—a sleek, black Porsche 911 Turbo S—he let out a long breath. The leather seats felt cool against his skin as he sank into them, and the engine roared to life with a low, satisfying growl.

Aurélien pulled out his phone, noticing the missed calls from his father. He hesitated, then tapped the number and brought the phone to his ear. The call connected almost immediately.

"Ouais, Papa? (Yeah, Dad?)"

"Aurélien, enfin! Où es-tu? (Aurélien, finally! Where are you?)"

Aurélien sucked his teeth, glancing out at the sun-soaked training grounds. "Je viens de finir l'entraînement. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a? (I just finished training. What's up?)"

His father's voice took on a more urgent tone. "Va à l'aéroport. Ta femme arrive aujourd'hui. (Go to the airport. Your wife is arriving today.)"

Aurélien's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he frowned in disbelief. "Aujourd'hui? Mais pourquoi si tôt? (Today? But why so soon?)"

There was a brief pause before his father answered. "Elle a terminé ses études plus tôt que prévu, et elle commence à décrocher des contrats… tu sais, avec son Instagram. (She graduated early and she's starting to land some contracts… you know, with her Instagram.)"

Instagram? Aurélien blinked, trying to process what he'd just heard. The sarcasm practically dripped from his mind. Great. I'm marrying an IG hoe.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "D'accord, j'y vais. (Alright, I'm on my way.)"

"Merci, fils. Sois gentil avec elle. (Thank you, son. Be nice to her.)"

Aurélien let out a dry chuckle as he hung up, shaking his head. Be nice? He didn't even know this girl, let alone how to be nice to her. As he shifted the Porsche into gear and pulled out of the lot, his thoughts drifted back to his unknown fiancée. Would she be another high-maintenance Instagram model obsessed with followers and brand deals? He smirked to himself. He'd seen enough of those in his life already.

But there was nothing to do now but go pick her up and see for himself. Maybe she'd take one look at him and decide she could do better after all. A man could dream, right?

Zuri fidgeted nervously, her eyes darting around the crowded airport pick-up station. She had no idea who she was looking for, which only added to the anxiety bubbling in her chest. Her father had given her little to go on, vague descriptions and the promise that she would "know him when she saw him." But how was she supposed to recognize a man she’d never met?

Then, out of the sea of people, she spotted him. A tall, broad-shouldered man with an air of effortless confidence, moving through the crowd as if he owned the place. His smooth, dark brown skin and muscled frame hugged his designer tracksuit perfectly, and his piercing eyes seemed to notice everything around him. Zuri's breath caught in her throat as he approached.

His gaze settled on her with a mix of curiosity and certainty. He stopped just in front of her, towering over her, and offered a polite nod.

"You wouldn’t happen to be the daughter of Ernest Awanto Nchang, would you?" he asked, his voice rich and smooth, though there was a hint of dryness in his tone.

Zuri blinked, momentarily taken aback by his handsomeness and the way his curly taper fade complemented his angular facial features. "Yes, I am," she replied cautiously. He then began to ramble off in rapid French, and Zuri failed miserably at trying to catch up. "Um, I'm sorry, I don't speak French that well."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "Ah, my bad. I'm Aurélien."

She nodded, offering a small smile. "Zuri. Nice to meet you."

As they collected her luggage - all five suitcases of it - Aurélien couldn't help but suck his teeth. "Damn, girl, did you pack your entire house?" he muttered.

"I didn't know how long I'd be staying," Zuri bristled as she followed Aurélien to the parking lot, her eyes widening slightly when she saw the sleek, black car parked in front of them.

A Porsche? Nice.

The car was immaculate, with gleaming chrome accents and tinted windows that added an extra layer of mystery. When Aurélien unlocked it with a casual click of his key fob, she couldn’t help but admire the luxury of it all. She slid into the passenger seat, and her fingers brushed against the soft, peanut butter leather that lined the interior. The seats were plush and cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the tension radiating off Aurélien as he settled in behind the wheel after packing her luggage in the trunk. The scent of expensive cologne and leather filled the air, making the space feel even more intimate and imposing.

The drive began in uncomfortable silence, the only sound coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. After a few minutes, Aurélien finally broke the silence, his voice laced with dry humor. "You know, you weren’t supposed to arrive until next month."

Zuri didn’t miss the underlying irritation in his tone. She glanced over at him, her defenses kicking in immediately. "I’m sorry for ruining your plans," she shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm.

Aurélien’s lips twitched slightly, the hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, surprised by her sass. "Why the sudden change?"

Zuri sighed. "I graduated early from university. My father and I weren't seeing eye to eye about my career plans. He wants me to get a 'real job'," she air-quoted, "instead of pursuing my influencer work. So he decided to ship me off to Madrid, figuring my 'husband'," another air quote, "would straighten me out."

Aurélien couldn't help but laugh. "Gotta love African parents, huh?"

"Yeah," Zuri snorted. "By the way, how do you pronounce your name again? Or-ree-lee-en?"

"Aw-reh-lee-an," he corrected. "And yours is Zoo-ree, right?"

"Close. It's more like Zu-ree. Short 'u' sound."

They pulled up to a modern, spacious house with large windows and a manicured lawn. As they entered, they were greeted by an energetic German Shepherd puppy.

"Zeus, down boy," Aurélien commanded, but the dog was too excited by the new arrival.

Zuri shrieked and jumped back as Zeus bounded towards her.

Aurélien's lips contorted into a teasing grin. "Don't tell me you're scared of a little puppy?"

"He's not little!" Zuri protested, eyeing the dog warily.

"He's only a year old," Aurélien chuckled, picking up Zeus easily, as if the dog barely weighed anything at all. "See? Harmless."

Zuri didn't look convinced, but she tentatively reached out to pet Zeus's head. The dog immediately licked her hand, causing her to giggle despite herself.

Aurélien watched the exchange, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Looks like Zeus likes you already," he remarked, setting the dog back down on the floor. Zeus trotted off, seemingly satisfied with the introduction.

"Come on," Aurélien said, gesturing for her to follow him. "I’ll show you around."

The house was as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside. Modern and spacious, with clean lines and tasteful décor that spoke of understated luxury. Aurélien led her through the open-plan living area, pointing out the key features as they went.

"This is the living room," he said, nodding toward the large sectional sofa and the wall-mounted TV that dominated one side of the space. "The kitchen’s over there, fully stocked. Dining area’s next to it if you’re into that."

Zuri trailed behind him, taking in the high ceilings and the large windows that bathed the room in natural light. Everything looked like it had been carefully curated, from the abstract art on the walls to the sleek, polished surfaces that gleamed under the light.

He led her down a hallway, past a few closed doors, and stopped in front of one. "Here’s your room," he said, pushing the door open to reveal a well-appointed guest room. It was cozy, with a queen-sized bed covered in crisp white sheets, a matching dresser, and a small seating area by the window.

"The bed’s already made up, but if you need extra sheets or towels, they’re in the closet here," Aurélien added, opening a nearby door to show her where everything was neatly stored.

Zuri nodded, still a little overwhelmed by the situation. "It’s really nice, thank you."

Aurélien shrugged as if it was no big deal. "My chef usually comes in every other day around two to fill up the fridge, so if you’re hungry, just look there."

Zuri raised an eyebrow, curious. "Do you ever cook for yourself?"

Aurélien let out a short laugh. "Nah," he replied, shaking his head. "Not really my thing. Oh, yeah, I’m usually out early and back late, so don’t wait up for me. It’s cool to eat without me."

Zuri wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she just nodded.

"Well, I’ll let you settle in," Aurélien said, giving Zeus a quick pat before heading toward the door. "Zeus and I are gonna give you some space. If you need anything, just let me know."

With that, he left her alone in the guest room, the door clicking shut behind him. Zuri stood there for a moment, taking it all in. The reality of her situation was slowly sinking in—she was in a foreign country, in a stranger’s house, with a man she barely knew, and would soon be in a marriage she hadn’t chosen.

She tried to keep a straight face, to be strong like she always was, but the fear and uncertainty were overwhelming. Her hands trembled slightly as she sat down on the edge of the bed, the softness of the sheets offering little comfort. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay composed, but the tears came anyway, slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them.

Zuri quickly wiped them away, frustrated with herself for breaking down so easily. She’d worked so hard to build her life, her career, her brand as an influencer. She was known for her confidence, her style, her ability to navigate the fast-paced world of social media with ease. But now, all of that seemed so far away. Her home was in New York, where she knew the streets, the people, the culture. And now, here she was, starting over in Spain—a place she’d only ever visited on a few short trips to Europe.

How was she supposed to navigate this? She could barely understand her parents’ home language of French, and now she was expected to learn Spanish too? The thought was daunting, and for a moment, she felt utterly lost.

Aurélien paused outside the guest room door, his hand hovering over the handle. He could hear Zuri's muffled sobs from the other side, and a twinge of guilt twisted in his stomach. He'd never been good with crying women - it always made him feel awkward and out of his depth. His ex-girlfriends had often complained about his tendency to shut down or retreat when emotions ran high.

He sighed, running a hand over his face. Part of him wanted to go in there, to try and comfort her somehow. But what would he even say? 'Sorry your dad shipped you off to marry a stranger'? Yeah, that would go over well.

Despite his discomfort, Aurélien couldn't help but think about how beautiful Zuri was. Her umber skin was flawless, smooth, and rich like polished mahogany. Her full lips, high cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes gave her an almost regal appearance. And her hair - a mass of springy curls that framed her face perfectly. She was stunning, no doubt about it.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a text from Jules Koundé:

"Hey man, just landed in Madrid. Still good for me to crash at your place?"

Aurélien winced. Fuck. With Zuri's unexpected arrival, he'd completely forgotten about Jules' visit. He quickly typed out a reply:

"Slight change of plans. The fiancée arrived early. Mind staying at a hotel instead?"

Jules' response came moments later:

"No worries, bro. Hotel might be better anyway - more privacy for bringing back some señoritas, if you know what I mean 😉"

Aurélien chuckled, but then paused. Could he still do that? Bring back hookups? Technically, Zuri was his fiancée now, but it's not like they were going to have a loving marriage. Maybe they could come to some sort of agreement - you have your side pieces, I have mine, just keep it out of the media?

He shook his head. That sounded grim, even to him. But wasn't that the reality of their situation?

Thirty minutes later, Aurélien met up with Jules at a trendy bar in downtown Madrid. The two friends dapped each other, slipping easily into rapid French.

"Mon frère, ça fait trop longtemps! (My brother, it's been too long!)" Jules grinned.

"Je sais, je sais," (I know, I know,) Aurélien replied, signaling the bartender for two beers. "Mec, tu ne croiras jamais ce qui s'est passé aujourd'hui. (Dude, you won't believe what happened today.)"

As they settled into a corner booth, Aurélien recounted the day's events - Zuri's unexpected arrival, the awkward drive home, her fear of Zeus.

"Elle est comment? (What's she like?): Jules asked, leaning in with interest.

Aurélien took a long swig of his beer before answering. "Belle. Vraiment belle. Mais aussi... je ne sais pas. Perdue? Effrayée? Je l'ai entendue pleurer dans sa chambre. (Beautiful. Really beautiful. But also... I don't know. Lost? Scared? I heard her crying in her room.)"

Jules whistled low. "Merde, c'est dur. Qu'est-ce que tu vas faire? (Shit, that's rough. What are you going to do?)"

Aurélien shrugged, feeling helpless. "Je ne sais pas, mec. Je ne sais vraiment pas. (I don't know, man. I really don't know.)"

Aurélien and Jules continued their night, moving from the bar to a pulsing nightclub. The bass throbbed through the air as they made their way to the VIP section, immediately drawing attention from the other patrons.

Two women approached them, exuding confidence with every step. The taller one, with sleek box braids cascading down her back, sidled up to Jules, while her friend, with her hair styled in loose waves and curves that her dress hugged perfectly, set her sights on Aurélien.

"You look like you could use some company," the woman with the braids said in accented English, her dark eyes locked on Jules. "You want to dance?"

Jules smiled coolly, already angling towards the dance floor with his companion. "Sounds good to me. Aurélien?"

Aurélien watched his friend smoothly lead his dance partner away before turning his attention back to the woman before him. She was stunning, her skin a rich, deep brown that seemed to glow under the club lights.

"I'm Lia," she said, leaning in close to be heard over the music. "And you are…?"

"Aurélien," he replied, his eyes appreciatively taking in her features. He knew exactly where this was heading, and a part of him hesitated. The image of Zuri, alone and crying in his guest room, flashed through his mind.

But then Lia's hand was on his arm, her touch warm and inviting, and he found himself leaning into it. Didn't he deserve one last night of freedom before diving into this arranged marriage mess?

"So, Aurélien," Lia's voice pulled him back to the present. "What brings you out tonight? Celebrating something?"

Aurélien chuckled, a hint of irony lacing his words. "You could say that. Let's just say I'm trying to… clear my head."

Lia tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? And how's that working out for you?"

Aurélien’s gaze lingered on her, sliding from her eyes to her full lips, then lower, drinking in every curve with deliberate intent. "I think it's starting to help," he murmured, his voice low and thick with suggestion.

Lia’s lips curled into a knowing smile, her eyes glinting with intrigue. She stepped closer, closing the distance between them until their bodies were nearly touching. "Is that so?" she teased, her tone laced with challenge.

Aurélien leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Why don't we find somewhere more private?" His hand brushed her waist, fingers skimming the fabric of her dress.

Lia didn’t hesitate. She got up from her seat, leading him out of the VIP section through a dimly lit hallway and into a nearby storage room. It was cramped and cluttered, but it provided the seclusion they needed.

Once inside, Aurélien wasted no time. He pressed Lia against the wall, his hands gripping her hips as he pulled her close. Their lips met in a heated kiss, all hunger and need, as their bodies moved together in a feverish rhythm. His hands roamed over her curves, exploring every inch as she eagerly responded, her fingers threading through his hair.

The kiss broke, and Lia dropped to her knees, her eyes locking with his as she unbuttoned his pants. Aurélien's breath caught as she freed him, her hand wrapping around his thick length. His cock was long and veined, the skin taut and smooth, with a slight curve that Lia seemed to appreciate. She took him into her mouth, her lips stretching around him as she began to work him over with slow, deliberate strokes of her tongue.

Aurélien groaned, one hand resting on the back of her head as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock before sliding down his shaft. Lia knew exactly what she was doing, her movements expertly designed to drive him wild. Her slurping sounds filled the small room, a wet, rhythmic symphony that matched the pulse of his desire.

He hated that he was here, in some grimy storage room at a club, getting his dick sucked like this. It felt beneath him, almost disrespectful to himself, but he couldn’t deny how badly he needed this distraction. The tension, the frustration, all of it melted away with each skilled flick of Lia’s tongue, each tight, wet pull of her mouth.

But even as his body responded, his mind wandered. Thoughts of Zuri crept in, uninvited, disrupting his focus. He imagined her face, the way she looked at him earlier with a mix of uncertainty and defiance. He could almost hear her voice, questioning what the hell he was doing. The thought made him grit his teeth, annoyed at himself for letting her into his head at a moment like this.

Lia's pace quickened, her mouth moving faster, more desperate to push him over the edge. Aurélien let out a low growl, trying to banish the thoughts of Zuri from his mind as he focused on the warmth of Lia's mouth, the tight suction that was driving him closer to release. He tightened his grip on her hair, thrusting deeper into her throat, the need for release overriding everything else.

Finally, with a rough groan, Aurélien came, his body shuddering as he spilled into Lia’s mouth. She took it all, swallowing greedily as he rode out his climax, her lips still wrapped around him until he was spent.

When it was over, Lia slowly pulled back, wiping the corner of her mouth with a satisfied smirk. Aurélien leaned against the wall, catching his breath, his mind already turning back to the reality he was trying to escape.

"Needed that," he muttered, his voice rough.

Lia stood, straightening her dress as she shot him a playful look. "Anytime," she teased, giving him a light tap on the chest before standing up to her full height. "Y'know that was only a preview right?"

Aurélien adjusted his clothes, feeling the weight of everything settling back on his shoulders. "I know, but I'm fine with that preview."

"You sure?"

"100%," he said, deftly ignoring the pout on her lips. "Thank you."

Lia shrugged as she fixed her dress, "You're welcome, I guess."

This had been a temporary distraction, nothing more. As he exited the storage room, his thoughts were already drifting back to Zuri and the mess he knew was waiting for him.

Should've kept my dick in my pants.

Aurélien felt surprisingly guilty as he made his way back to the main area of the club, spotting Jules near the exit with Lia's friend. The two men approached each other, exchanging a quick dap.

"Heading out?" Aurélien asked, eyeing the woman waiting with Jules.

Jules grinned, "Yeah, man. You good?"

Aurélien nodded despite his slight uneasiness, "All good. See you tomorrow?"

"For sure. Later, bro."

With a final fist bump, they parted ways. Aurélien watched them leave before calling for his own ride home.

The house was dark when he arrived, save for the flickering light of the TV in the living room. As he approached, Zeus lifted his head from the couch, tail wagging slightly at the sight of his owner.

"Hey, boy," Aurélien whispered, moving closer. That's when he noticed Zuri, curled up on the couch next to Zeus, fast asleep.

A small smile tugged at his lips. He'd have to tease her tomorrow about cozying up to the dog she was so afraid of earlier. Quietly, he retrieved a blanket from a nearby chair and gently draped it over her sleeping form.

As he leaned in, he couldn't help but notice the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. The sight sobered him instantly, reminding him of the reality of their situation.

"We're both fucked, huh sweetheart?" he murmured, more to himself than to her or Zeus.

With a sigh, he turned off the TV and headed upstairs. In his room, he shed his clothes, the scent of the club – and Lia – still clinging to him. As he stepped into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him, his mind raced.

This arranged marriage... it wasn't what either of them wanted. But it was their reality now. As the water ran cold, Aurélien couldn't shake the feeling that his life had irrevocably changed. The carefree bachelor was gone, and in its place? A reluctant husband? A man trapped in a loveless marriage?

As he climbed into bed, exhaustion finally overtaking him, his last thought before drifting off was of Zuri's tear-stained face. Whatever happened next, he realized, they were in this together.

TO BE CONTINUED...Read Chapter 2

#emjayewrites #aurelien tchouameni #aurelien tchouameni fanfiction #aurelien tchouameni x black reader #footballer x reader #real madrid fanfic #real madrid x black reader #la liga x reader #fouled by fate

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