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lostbookmark · 3 months ago

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MDNI 18+ 🔞

WHISPERED SECRETS MASTERLIST

Summary: After four years, your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive?

Pairing: Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader.

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance.

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name, baby, Use of prescription medication.

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You stare at your sister from across your parents table. She looks good as always, happy and almost glowing. The man next to her is just as beautiful. Mingyu is tall, handsome, and personable. The perfect example of someone you want to bring home to your parents. He develops something, real-estate you think. Not exactly sure what that means, you’ll have to google later. He screams money with his designer clothes, fancy watch and shiny shoes. He is perfect for her and they look good together. He's nice, really nice and you're honestly so happy for her. You wonder how long they have been together. Your parents must have known about him as they didn't seem surprised when he showed up with her. It makes you feel all the more guilty. You feel guilty for lying, for not knowing about her life anymore. You feel guilty that Yoongi will never have your family's approval.

You stay quiet during dinner, just moving the food on your plate around with your fork. You don't have much of an appetite. Your mother won't stop gushing over the two of them as she watches them with the biggest smile on her face. She goes on and on about how handsome Mingyu is, how successful he is. You feel embarrassed on his behalf. Your dad seems like he's tuned out of the conversation, keeping one eye on the tv. You should have known something was up when she said that she wanted an additional dinner this month besides Christmas and had asked you to dress up. You thought maybe she was going to set you up with a blind date. Yoongi didn't find it funny. He gave you a light spank as a warning.

“I'm happy we can be here today,” your sister says, bouncing in her seat. Her smile is a perfect pearly white. She must get them whitened regularly. “We have some news.” You watch as she takes Mingyu's hand. “We are getting married.” she says, holding up her left hand to show off a huge diamond. The sunlight catches the diamond to show off how truly beautiful it was. You know that she's in love with it. She always loved things that sparkled.

Your mom cries out in joy, hugging her as they start jumping up and down squealing like teenagers. She’s never been happy for you. You think bitterly. She didn't care about you passing your drivers test, your first homecoming with an actual date, getting into art school. She always went after your faults, and your sister reaped all the benefits. You plaster a smile on your face watching them, hoping it comes off as sincere. Your dad offers congratulations by shaking Mingyu’s hand. Mingyu, however, looks at you with a curious expression on his handsome face . You're not sure what he is thinking. You wonder what she has told him about you. Was it that you were an awful, harlot, boyfriend stealing woman? That you were the worst sister in the world. Maybe she doesn't say anything at all. Maybe he thought you were some weird stranger at the table.

“Do you have the style of your bridesmaid dresses picked? We will have to get Y/N’s measurements done,” your mom started, but your sister cut her off.

“I already picked my bridal party. There's just not enough room,” your sister explains. “You understand, right, Y/N?”

“Sweetheart, I'm sure there's room,” Mingyu told her. “I'll find another groomsman.”

“No, she understands. It's just not in the budget.” She looks at you with a tight smile. You just want the ground to open up and swallow you whole. This…this is how much she hates you. Does she know? Does she know that you are with Yoongi? That he spent an hour with his face buried between your thighs this morning, trying to calm you down about this dinner. Can she smell him on you? No one says anything until Mingyu clears his throat.

"That's…uh…an interesting ring,” he says to kill the quiet. ��A sun, it's pretty.”

“Umm, yeah, my boyfriend gave it to me,” you say quietly. You hold your breath and pick at the napkin in your lap. This is not how you wanted to break the news. Honestly, you don't think that you ever planned on telling them. You just hoped that maybe, somehow, you two would have been able to run away and start again where no one knew you.

“Boyfriend?” Your mom asks. “Since when do you have a boyfriend? One serious enough to buy you jewelry?”

“Uh,” Mingyu looks a little panicked like he shouldn't have said something. “What about work? What do you do?” he asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, she's just an accountant at a small-time, no named business.” Your sister answers for you as she eyes your ring. “Nothing important.”

“No, I quit,” you tell her. Your mom literally dropped into her seat. “I'm starting an art program in the summer, and I have a new job with more flexible hours that will accommodate me.”

“Art?” Mingyu exclaimed. “My company loves doing charity for local school programs. You know, art supplies for classrooms, dress clothes for choir performances, and offering financial assistance with band instruments.”

“What? I didn't know this,” your sister said, looking at her fiancée like he grew another head.

“You never asked,” he said quietly. “Sports are great and all but…the arts always get overlooked. Music and drawing are such amazing ways for kids to express themselves.”

“How are you going to afford an art program?” Your mom asked you. Damn, you even had your dads attention.

“My boyfriend is paying for it,” you say quietly. “He got me my job too.”

“Where are you working now?” Your mom asked, and boy, does she look pissed. “Who the hell is this boyfriend? You better not be doing…things… to get him to pay for you.”

“Uhh,” Mingyu says. Poor, poor Mingyu, he doesn't know what he walked into. You think that he's starting to sweat.

“A record company,” you say quietly, staring down at your plate. You're trying to brush off her insinuation that you're a sugar baby or something. Is she wrong, though? “My boss Namjoon…”

“Kim Namjoon?” Mingyu asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You know him?” You question as your eyes snap to him, and your heart rate starts to pick up.

“Yeah, we've done charity events together. He has a small crew, too. Jimin, Hoseok, and uhh…” he trails off, trying to remember. “He was super quiet and didn't really say much.” You panic. He knows of Yoongi. This can not be happening. “Man, what was his name? He looked angry.”

“Jimin is dating my friend Lisa. That's how I met them,” you explain quickly, lying, hoping to break his train of thought. “Their uhhh…yeah, dating.”

It’s quiet again as four sets of eyes stare at you as you ramble. It's an awkward silence that you need to get out of. You excuse yourself from the table and race out to the back patio as fast as you can. Hoping if you can avoid any more of the conversation, and they will just move on.

Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you look around, and you try to calm your fast beating heart. Your parents took everything down slowly throughout the years. The tree house, the trampoline, and the swingset. Your sister always made you push her on the swing so she could pretend to be some sort of fairy princess. She never pushed for you. Your whole childhood is gone. Even though it wasn't the happiest, it still hurt to know it was gone. You pull out your phone and quickly send Yoongi a text.

It's a shit show. Will you call me for an emergency?

Sorry, my love. He texted back. Tell them your dog is sick

I don't have a dog, you replied.

Do they know that? he answered.

Behind you, the door slides open, and your sister storms up to you. Her eyes are heated, and you're pretty sure she's trying to kill you with her glare. She crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot.

“You made me look stupid in there. Mingyu won't stop asking questions about why we don't know anything about your life. Why I won't let you be a bridesmaid? How you should be my maid of honor.” She hisses at you and pokes you in the chest. Her bony ass finger hurts. “You need to fix this mess.”

“He asked a question, and I answered,” You defend yourself. “What do I tell him? That you and mom only give a shit about each other. That I've been trying to move on with my life without you two making me feel bad all the time?”

“Oh, you're so full of yourself. No one was ever out to get you,” she rebuttals. Your phone chimes, and you ignore it. “You locked yourself away and always expected everyone to help you. It's not our fault you didn't have a life. Your poor me shit needs to stop.”

“I was a kid. Dad was never around,” you yell at her. Your phone chimes again. “Mom was always stuck up your ass. Your pageants, dance, and everything else you did. Yeah, I needed help.”

Your phone rings this time. You flip your phone to look at the screen. You freeze. You forgot that Yoongi's contact picture was of the two of you. Lisa had bullied her way into his studio and took the picture. She made him kiss you on the cheek as you sat on his lap, and to your surprise, he actually did it. He kicked her out not long after. You hear your sister gasp, and your eyes fly to her face. She is stunned, staring at your phone. It stops ringing, only to immediately start ringing again, picture popping back up.

“You have gotta be kidding me,” she says lowly, harshly. “Is that Yoongi? Tell me right now! Why do you have a picture of him kissing you?”

“I…I…” you stutter.

“Yoongi? Your boyfriend is Yoongi? WHAT THE FUCK!” she screams. “ANSWER ME! IS HE YOUR BOYFRIEND? ”

Your parents come out back where you two were. Mingyu is not with them. You wonder where he went. You hope he ran away, far, far away. You hope he doesn't come back and that he can find someone that is….not your sister. someone who will appreciate his charity and kindness. Someone who wants to help people and isn't selfish. Your sister snatches your phone out of your hand.

“She's dating Yoongi, mom,” she cries out. She waves your phone in front of your moms face, showing her the missed calls. “I always told you…”

“Leave it alone,” your dad says, cutting her off. You, your sister, your mom, you all freeze. You think this is the most you ever heard him speak in years. “Give her her phone back.”

“Y/N, how could you do this to her,” your mom scolds, ignoring your father. “I told you to leave him alone years ago. You never listen. Why can't you ever listen? Do you know how selfish this is?”

“How long did you wait to go after him?” she snarled at you. “It was always pathetic how you always followed him around like a lost puppy. He hated it too, you know?” No, no, she's lying….please let her be lying. “He always hated helping you. He called you a burden all the time.”

“I SAID LEAVE IT!” Your father yells. “ I've sat back for years and kept quiet. No more, leave her alone. Give her the phone back right now!”

Your sister looks murderous. Your phone chimes. She smiles a sardonic smile as she looks at the screen. Instead of handing you the phone, she throws it on the hard cement below you.You cry out and pick it up….it's shattered. Your family is shattered, and Mingyu is probably shattered. The tears are streaming down your face. Yoongi, you want Yoongi. You need him to fix this. Were you a burden to him?

“You knew I loved him, and you always wanted everything I had. You jealous bitch! You are dead to me,” she whispered. “I will never speak to you again.”

Crying, you push past her and run through the house and out the front door. You grab your purse and your keys hanging on the hook on the way out. Running to your car, you slip and fall on the icy driveway. A sharp pain radiates through your wrist as you land on it. It takes your breath away for a moment. You ignore it as you manage to climb into your car. Your phone screen is glitching. You can't even pull up your contacts as it flickers erratically.

“Hey Siri, call, Yoongs,” you try to command your phone as you slam your car door shut. Sighing in relief, you hear your phone respond to your command. Thank you, thank you, thank you, you chant to yourself. The phone rings, and it's choppy and staticky.

“Ba..,” Yoongi answers. You can barely hear him. “...omthin….wron…”

Your phone completely turns off. No…no…no. Starting your car, you race back home to your apartment. Not Yoongi's but yours. You've been slowly packing. You have a week to be out. You just wanted your bed, your warm, comforting cocoon. You slam your door as soon as you get there. You don't even bother locking it as you dodge the boxes scattered about to get to your bedroom. Burying yourself in your blankets, you cover your head with your pillow and cry. Loud, full chest sobs, such violent sobs your body shakes. It gets hot quickly under there, but you don't care. You don't want anyone hearing you. You're too vulnerable, and it's an ugly sight. Fuck…your wrist hurts.

“Baby,” Yoongi's voice rang out. “Y/N.” His voice is muffled due to the pillow over your head. “Y/N,” he's close now. His body drops on the bed, jostling you a little. “You're scaring me.”

Yoongi pulls the pillow off your head and moves the blankets down. He reveals your sweaty red face as tears stream down your cheeks from your bloodshot eyes. You're sure your face is probably all snotty, too. You're too far gone to care about it, though.

“They know,” you whisper to him. “She smashed my phone.” Yoongi grabs your phone that was laid beside you and inspects it. “She has a fiancée. He was so nice and I ruined it for her. He knows Joon,” you explain. “I think he knows who you are too, and I panicked. I thought he was going to out us, and I didn't……” You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “She saw our picture when you called.”

“Y/N,” he sighs and wipes the sweat and hair away from your face.

“I fell…my wrist really hurts,” you sob loudly, showing him your injured wrist. Yoongi gently picks up your wrist and tries to examine it.

“We should get you to the hospital,” he says softly, but you shake your head no. “It could be broken.”

“She said you called me a burden all the time. That you hated it when I followed you around,” you start crying again.

“What?” Yoongi’s face turns hard and red. “I never said that. You were the reason I stuck around for as long as I did.”

That shocked you. Your questions surrounding their relationship have never been answered. After today, you feel like you have a million more. They were together for two years. You always just kind of thought that they just grew apart. Now, you're not so sure anymore. His comment just now. His note in that red envelope with the ring, your picture in his studio. You clearly don't know anything.

“Let me take you to the hospital,” Yoongi says as he kisses the side of your head. “I'll try and pull some strings. My friend Jin might be on tonight. He'll take good care of you.”

“You have a lot of friends,” you say, leaning into his chest. You cradle your own hand to your chest.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You were never and will never be a burden to me. Let's go, we can get some ice cream after, and I can try and finish packing.”

“Okay,” you agree. “I love you, Yoongi.”

“I love you, too,” he whispers.

“Well, you are one lucky young lady,” Dr. Kim said, coming back into your room. Your x rays in hand.

Yoongi wasn't lying when he said he could probably pull some strings. As soon as you got to the hospital, they got you right in. Unfortunately, you wouldn't be you without embarrassing yourself somehow. When Dr. Kim introduced himself and shook your good hand. You may have giggled, and Yoongi sighed in defeat. He's very handsome and his smile is so beautiful. See, you're starting to feel better already. You didn't need to come.

“Just a sprain. A grade 2 sprain. Rest it, ice it, elevate it, and keep it wrapped, I just prescribed you some mild pain meds, and you can pick those up on the way out at the pharmacy. You'll be just fine in about 6 weeks or so.” Dr. Kim explained. “Any question?”

“No,” you answered. “Thank you, Dr. Kim.”

“It was my pleasure. Finally, meeting my little Yoongi’s girlfriend is the highlight of my night,” Dr. Kim tells you. “Please call me Jin. We are family now,” he continues. “Also, always remember when you get a bladder infection…”

“Jin, don't,” Yoongi says, trying to cut him off.

“...urine trouble.” Dr. Kim….Jin throws his head back and slaps his leg laughing at his own joke. Yoongi shakes his head in embarrassment. You can't help but giggle, his laugh is infectious. “Okay, kids. You're free to go, Y/N take care of Yoongi for me.” Yoongi looks unimpressed as Jin leaves the two of you alone. You finally break out in full laughter. You think the meds have kicked in.

“It doesn't hurt anymore,” you say in awe as you flop your hand around.

“Stop that,” Yoongi says from the driver's seat.

“You know what!” You exclaim while bouncing in your seat. “Fuck her! Fuck my sister….well…you already have but still.”

“Hey, watch it,” Yoongi growls at you. He stops at a red light glaring at you.

“Oh come on. You were together for years. I'm not stupid….you've fucked her. Wow, these meds are great,” you laugh at yourself. Yoongi mumbles something to himself you can't make out in your haze. “Sex must have been good with her for you to put up with her like you did. You know what we should do?”

“What?” Yoongi asks, sounding exasperated, but you miss it. He pulls back into your lot and helps you out of the car.

“OH I KNOW!” You yell out and look at him with a serious look . “YOONGI! When did you get here?” Yoongi puts his hand over your mouth, shushing you. Thank the Lord you live on the first floor. It probably looks like he's kidnapping you right now. “Oh, Oh, we should make a sex tape! A really, really, really dirty one. I'll even let you jack it on my face! Yeah! Yeah! Then…I'll send it to her. We'll be naked!”

Yoongi huffed a little as he struggled with you. He finally managed to get you inside of your apartment and into your bedroom with you stumbling most of the way. You gave him work out trying to change you into something comfortable.

“Noooo,” you whine. “NAAAAAKKKEEEED!”

“Okay, my little adult film star. You lie down, and I'll get the camera,” Yoongi says, placating you. You snuggle down into your bed, and as soon as your head hits the pillow, you're out. Snores and all. You miss the worried look on Yoongi's face and the sad smile he gives you. Turning off the light, Yoongi leaves you alone. Maybe you weren't as sure about this relationship as he thought.

A/N: I understand she probably would have just taken something like Tylenol for her wrist. I needed her to be loopy for this one.

READER TAGS:

@unicornbabylover , @marimarvelfan, @minghaosimp, @iheartsvt, @seoullove96, @babyitscoldoutside

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emjayewrites · 3 months ago

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fouled by fate • aurelien tchouameni (2/10)

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 @trinitoldyouso

A/N: Please let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist. I don't know a lot about Cameroonian culture, but I tried...

Zuri slumped on the couch, flicking mindlessly through channels on Aurélien's massive TV. Three days in this fancy house, and she'd barely seen her "fiancé." He was always rushing off to practice or meetings, leaving her alone in this unfamiliar place.

"Some marriage this is gonna be," she muttered, tossing the remote aside.

Her mind drifted back to how this chaos began. Last year, her dad Ernest had spent months in Cameroon, supposedly checking on grandma and some cousins. Turns out, he was also playing matchmaker with his old school buddy – Aurélien's dad. Two single kids, two scheming fathers, and bam! Instant engagement.

At first, Zuri had laughed it off. "Yeah, right," she'd told her friends. "Like arranged marriages are still a thing." But then the elders got involved, declaring it a "strong match." And when the elders speak, you shut up and nod, even if you're an American-born girl whose closest connection to Cameroon was the dashiki hanging in her closet and her mother's cooking.

Zuri grimaced, remembering the elders' disapproving looks. They'd practically sneered at her Americanized ass whenever she visited, with her broken Bamum, vague knowledge of Bamileke traditions, and even worse French. In their eyes, Aurélien was the golden boy – all traditional and strong.

"Maybe he can teach you a thing or two," one elder had said, eyeing her skeptically.

Just last night, Zuri had gone full stalker mode, Googling the hell out of him. Articles about his soccer career, thirst trap photos from events, gossip about his hookups. She had to admit, he was fine as hell. That body was criminal.

"Get it together, Zu," she chided herself. "This isn't some rom-com."

Now, as she sat in his home, reality was hitting her like a ton of bricks. Next month, both families would descend on Madrid to kick off this engagement circus. Cultural ceremonies, bride price talks, all that traditional crap she'd only seen in movies.

"How the fuck am I supposed to do this?" Zuri groaned, burying her face in a throw pillow.

She was a budding influencer, for Christ's sake. Her world was hashtags and sponsored posts, not ancient tribal customs. Yet here she was, about to be married to a stranger, expected to play the perfect Cameroonian bride.

Zuri pulled out her phone, thumb hovering over the Instagram icon. She was itching to post something, anything, to feel like her old self. But she hesitated. Was she even allowed to share this shit? Would Aurélien flip? Would the elders have a collective aneurysm?

"Fuck it," she sighed, putting her phone away. She'd have to figure all of this out eventually. But for now, she was just a lost girl in a strange house, in a foreign country, waiting for a ghost of a husband to acknowledge her existence.

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the lock caught her attention. Zuri's head snapped up, her heart suddenly racing. The front door swung open, and in walked Aurélien, looking every bit the professional athlete he was. His training kit clung to his muscular frame, his hair slightly damp with sweat.

Zeus bounded over to his master, tail wagging furiously. Aurélien bent down to ruffle the dog's fur, a genuine smile lighting up his face. Zuri took a brief moment to glance heavenward. "Are you trying to spite me, Lord?" she muttered under her breath.

Part of her wanted Aurélien to acknowledge her presence, to remember that she was an actual living, breathing human being sharing his space. But another part of her wasn't quite ready to face him. She needed more time to wallow in her misfortune, dammit.

Their eyes met, and Zuri felt a jolt of electricity run through her. Aurélien nodded in her direction. "Hey," he said, his voice deep and slightly rough from exertion.

"Hey," Zuri echoed, scrambling for something to say. "How was, uh… practice?"

Aurélien shrugged as he made his way to the kitchen. "Same as usual," he replied, pulling a water bottle from the fridge.

Zuri found herself unable to look away as he took a long drink. His head tilted back, exposing the strong line of his neck. She watched, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. A drop of water escaped, trailing down his chin and neck before disappearing into the collar of his shirt. The flex of his arm as he held the bottle made Zuri's mouth go dry.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive? It was honestly unfair. Here she was, trying to come to terms with this arranged marriage bullshit, and her "fiancé" had to look like he'd just stepped out of a sports drink commercial.

Realizing she'd been staring, Zuri cleared her throat (and her mind), forcing herself to look away. "Cool, cool," she mumbled, internally cringing at how awkward she sounded. This arranged marriage thing was bad enough without her turning into a bumbling idiot every time her future husband walked into the room.

An awkward silence fell between them. Zuri fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, desperately trying to think of something to say. Should she ask about his day? Comment on the weather? Discuss the impending doom of their arranged marriage?

Before she could decide, Aurélien spoke up. "You eat yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning the spotless kitchen.

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Uh, no," she admitted. "I wasn't sure if… I mean, I didn't know if I should…"

Aurélien raised an eyebrow. "If you should what? Eat? It's your house too, you know."

The casualness of his statement hit Zuri like whiplash. Right. This was her house now. Her life. Her future. The reality of it all threatened to overwhelm her again.

Zuri shifted uncomfortably under Aurélien's gaze. "I, uh, had a cup of yogurt with some fruit this morning," she admitted sheepishly.

Aurélien gave her a look, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. "And?"

"That's it," she mumbled, averting her eyes.

She didn't want to admit to him that her appetite was out of whack due to the whole "surprise, you're getting married to a stranger" situation. The last thing she needed was for him to think she was some delicate flower who couldn't handle a little life upheaval. Even if that's exactly how she felt at the moment.

Aurélien kissed his teeth. "That's not enough," he said, moving towards the fridge. "You need to eat properly."

Zuri watched as he pulled out a large glass dish covered in foil. "What are you doing?"

"Heating up dinner," he replied, turning on the oven. "My chef left some pasta dish as part of my meal prep. It's like a lasagna, but not really. Hope that's okay."

For a moment, Zuri just stared at him, baffled. This man, who she'd barely seen for three days, was suddenly sharing his food with her? The cognitive dissonance was real.

"You don't have to," she started, but Aurélien cut her off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm hungry, you're hungry. It's not a big deal," he said, sliding the dish into the oven.

Zuri found herself at a loss for words. She watched as Aurélien set the timer, his athletic grace apparent even in this simple task. The silence between them was punctuated only by the soft hum of the oven.

"So," Aurélien said after a while, leaning against the counter. "How are you settling in?"

The question caught Zuri off guard. How was she supposed to answer that? 'Oh, you know, just peachy. Love being uprooted from my life and thrown into an arranged marriage. Living the dream!'

Instead, she opted for a noncommittal shrug. "It's… different," she said carefully.

Aurélien nodded, as if he understood completely. "Yeah, I bet. Must be a big change from New York."

Zuri blinked, surprised he knew where she was from. Had he been researching her too?

"You could say that," she murmured, her mind racing. Was this small talk? Were they doing small talk now? God, this was weird. "How'd you know I'm from New York?" Zuri asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Aurélien smirked. "Your accent. Sounds like you're straight from Brooklyn. I've been to enough Nets games to know how those Brooklynites talk." He then launched into an imitation, his French accent making it sound utterly ridiculous. "Yo, I'm walkin' here!"

Despite herself, Zuri burst out laughing. It was a genuine laugh, one that surprised even her. Aurélien's lip twitched in response, and he nodded approvingly. "That's dope. Your tooth gem."

Zuri's hand instinctively went to her mouth, touching the small diamond on her incisor. "Thanks," she said, a bit taken aback by the compliment.

"I bet your dad freaked out about that," Aurélien mused.

Zuri rolled her eyes in recognition. "Oh, you have no idea. Just wait until he finds out about my piercing. That'll put him in an early grave."

Aurélien's brow furrowed in confusion. His eyes shifted around her face, then briefly to her slightly visible belly button. "What piercing? Unless he freaks out about ear piercings?"

"Uh... no," Zuri mumbled, her cheeks warming as she realized she'd dug herself into a deeper hole. "My nipples... are pierced."

Realization dawned on Aurélien's face, followed quickly by surprise and something else... was that desire? "Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Oh... that's hot."

The moment the words left his mouth, the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. Zuri felt her face grow even warmer, unsure how to respond to her soon-to-be husband calling her nipple piercings "hot."

Aurélien cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the oven timer. "So, uh, dinner should be ready soon," he said, his voice a touch higher than usual.

Zuri nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Great," she managed to squeak out, wondering if it was possible to die of embarrassment.

The oven timer broke the awkward silence, its shrill beep making them both jump slightly.

"I'll get it," Aurélien said quickly, moving to retrieve their dinner. The rich aroma of cheese and herbs filled the kitchen as he pulled out the dish.

Zuri watched him dish out two plates, her mind still reeling from their unexpected exchange. She couldn't believe she'd just told him about her nipple piercings. And his reaction… well, that was something she'd have to unpack later.

"So," Aurélien said as he set a plate in front of her, "besides traumatizing your dad with body modifications, what else do you do?"

Zuri snorted, grateful for the attempt at normalcy. "I'm an influencer," she said, bracing herself for the usual skepticism that followed that statement.

Aurélien nodded, seemingly unfazed. "Yeah? What kind of content?"

"Mostly fashion and lifestyle stuff," Zuri explained, twirling pasta around her fork. "Some travel content when I can swing it."

"Sounds interesting," Aurélien said, and to her surprise, he seemed genuinely curious. "How'd you get into that?"

As they ate, Zuri found herself opening up about her career, her goals, her struggles with balancing authenticity and marketability. Aurélien listened attentively, asking questions that showed he was actually paying attention.

"What about you?" Zuri asked eventually, realizing she'd been dominating the conversation. "I mean, I know you play football, but… what else?"

Aurélien shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not much else, honestly. Football takes up most of my time. But I like music, reading when I can, doing a bit of a podcast too. And I've got Zeus, of course."

At the mention of his name, the dog's ears perked up, and he trotted over to Aurélien's side.

"He seems to really love you," Zuri observed, watching as Aurélien absently scratched behind Zeus's ears.

"Yeah, he's a good boy," Aurélien said fondly. Then, glancing at Zuri, he added, "You know, he doesn't usually warm up to strangers so quickly. You must be special."

Zuri felt her cheeks warm again, unsure how to take the compliment. Was he flirting? Or just being nice? This arranged marriage situation was making it hard to read social cues.

"Listen," Aurélien said, his tone turning more serious. "I know this whole situation is… unconventional. But I want you to know, I'm committed to making it work. Whatever that looks like for us."

Zuri nodded slowly, processing his words. "Yeah," she said finally. "Me too. I guess we're in this together, huh?"

Aurélien's lips quirked into a half-smile. "Looks like it. So, truce?"

He extended his hand across the table. Zuri looked at it for a moment before reaching out to shake it, a small smile of her own forming.

"Truce," she agreed.

As their hands touched, Zuri felt a spark of… something. Connection? Possibility? Whatever it was, she realized that maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage wasn't going to be the disaster she'd feared. It was still weird, still not what she'd planned for her life, but sitting here, sharing a meal and conversation with Aurélien, it didn't seem quite so daunting anymore.

Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

A few days had passed since Aur��lien's impromptu dinner with Zuri. He'd been swamped with intense training sessions, preparing for the upcoming match against Atalanta in Warsaw. But despite the physical exhaustion, his mind kept drifting back to that night at the club with Jules, and the image of Zuri's tear-stained face when he'd returned home.

It had stirred something in him. A desire to try, to make an effort, even with all the chaos of his professional life. He owed her that much, at least.

So far, they'd been lucky. The media hadn't caught wind of Zuri yet, but Aurélien knew it was only a matter of time. Especially if she accompanied him to Poland next week. He wondered if it was even a good idea to bring her along, but then again, keeping her hidden away wouldn't solve anything in the long run.

Their recent conversations had revealed something that both amused and concerned him: Zuri didn't know the first thing about football. It was almost endearing, but as the wife of a professional player, it was a gap in knowledge he needed to address, and soon.

Aurélien's mind wandered to their dinner conversation, to Zuri's casual revelation about her nipple piercings. The memory sent an unexpected jolt of heat through him. He'd been trying not to think about it, about her in that way, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

His father's frequent calls didn't help matters. "How are you two getting along?" he'd ask, his tone a mix of concern and expectation. Aurélien would give vague, noncommittal answers, not quite ready to dissect his growing attraction to his arranged bride.

Because attracted he was, there was no denying it. Zuri was exactly his type: a brown-skinned beauty with full, kissable lips. While she wasn't particularly busty, her wide hips more than made up for it in Aurélien's eyes. He found himself stealing glances when she wasn't looking, admiring the way her clothes hugged her curves.

As Aurélien jogged onto the training pitch, he pushed his personal thoughts aside, focusing on the drills ahead. The next few hours were a blur of tactical exercises, sprints, and practice matches. By the time Ancelotti blew the final whistle, Aurélien was drenched in sweat, his muscles aching pleasantly from exertion.

In the locker room, as he was toweling off after his shower, Jude's voice cut through the post-practice chatter.

"Oi, Tchouaméni! We still on for tonight at yours?"

Aurélien froze for a moment, the realization hitting him. He'd completely forgotten about their regular hangouts, where they'd rotate hosting duties at each other's homes.

"Uh, yeah," he managed, his mind racing. "Yeah, we're still on."

Camavinga chimed in, patting his stomach for dramatic effect. "Good, because I'm starving. Your chef better have something good planned."

"Don't forget, Kylian's joining us this time," Jude added, referring to their newest addition to the team, Kylian Mbappé.

As his teammates continued chatting excitedly about the evening plans, Aurélien felt a knot forming in his stomach. How could he have forgotten to mention Zuri's early arrival?

"Uh, guys," he started, his voice cutting through the conversation. "There's something I should probably tell you…"

Jude looked at him curiously. "What's up, mate?"

Aurélien took a deep breath. "My, uh… my fiancée is in Madrid. She's staying at my place."

The locker room fell silent for a moment before erupting into a cacophony of surprised exclamations.

"The fuck?" Camavinga sputtered.

"Since when are you engaged?" another teammate chimed in.

Jude, however, just stared at Aurélien, his eyes wide with surprise. "Mate," he said slowly, "are you telling me she's here already? I thought that wasn't happening until next month."

Aurélien nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety at finally sharing the news. "Yeah, she arrived a few days ago. It was… unexpected."

"Bloody hell," Jude exclaimed, shaking his head in disbelief. "And you're just telling us now?"

Aurélien fielded questions from his teammates, feeling a bit overwhelmed. He'd only told Jude and Camavinga about the arranged marriage, and trying to explain it to everyone now felt strange and oddly invasive.

"But is she fit though?" one of his teammates asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Aurélien's lips trembled with amusement. "Yeah," he admitted, "she's gorgeous."

As the guys continued to rib him, Aurélien quickly sent a text to Zuri:

"Heads up, some teammates are sliding through tonight."

Her reply came moments later:

"Should I make something?"

He texted back:

"Not necessary."

"I owe you one 😉" came her final response, making him smile despite his nervousness.

Later that evening, the guys arrived at Aurélien's house. They greeted Zeus enthusiastically, ruffling his fur and letting him jump up on them. Suddenly, a delicious aroma wafted from the kitchen.

"Mate, something smells amazing," Jude commented, sniffing the air appreciatively.

The guys made their way to the kitchen, where the aroma of spices and simmering meat filled the air. Zuri stood at the stove, stirring a large pot.

"Not wifey making dinner. I see you, Aurél," Camavinga said with a grin.

Aurélien introduced Zuri to his teammates, trying to ignore the way Cama's eyes lingered on her. She was wearing another one of her baby t-shirts and a pair of athletic shorts that were criminally short, accentuating her curves.

When he noticed Cama staring a bit too hard at Zuri's ass, Aurélien couldn't help but mush the guy's head playfully. "Eyes up here, bro," he muttered, feeling a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

Zuri turned to greet them all, her smile bright and welcoming. "Hope you guys like ndolé," she said, gesturing to the pot. "It's a traditional Cameroonian dish."

As the guys settled around the kitchen island to eat, Zuri fell into easy conversation with Kylian, Jude, and Camavinga. Aurélien watched, pleasantly surprised at how naturally she interacted with his friends.

Suddenly, Zuri's phone rang. "Excuse me for a sec," she said, stepping out of the kitchen to take the call.

As soon as she was out of earshot, the teasing began.

"Yo, Aurél," Camavinga piped up, "think your dad can find me a wife too? She's a baddie!"

"For real though," Kylian chimed in, "you lucked out, man. She seems cool."

Jude nodded in agreement. "It's great that you're both trying to make it work. Can't wait to tell Lila about this – she's gonna flip!"

After dinner, the guys lounged in Aurélien's living room, plates balanced on their laps, loaded with Zuri's hastily baked cookies and generous scoops of ice cream. The air was thick with laughter and the sweet scent of sugary goodness.

"Yo," Kylian called out, a mischievous glint in his eye, "your girl's got skills. You sure this is an arranged marriage and not you bribing her?"

Aurélien rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help the small surge of pride he felt at the compliment to Zuri. He watched as she laughed, the sound warming something inside him he didn't quite want to examine yet.

As the night wore on, Aurélien found himself growing increasingly antsy. His teammates seemed determined to know every detail of Zuri's life, and while he appreciated their interest, he couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to shield her from their prying questions.

"Alright, guys," he finally said, clapping his hands together. "It's getting late. Some of us have training in the morning."

A chorus of groans met his announcement, but the guys began to gather their things. Aurélien ushered them out, ignoring their good-natured ribbing about him wanting alone time with his "wifey".

When he returned to the living room, Zuri was already gathering plates and cups. "You don't have to do that," he said, moving to help her.

"It's no big deal," she shrugged. "Your friends are nice."

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the awkwardness from earlier in the week creeping back in now that they were alone.

"Hey," Aurélien said suddenly, breaking the quiet. "Want to watch a movie or something?"

Zuri looked up, surprise evident on her face. "Sure, why not?"

They settled on the couch, a respectable distance between them that was quickly filled by Zeus, who flopped down with a contented sigh.

As the credits rolled, Aurélien stretched, reaching for the remote. "Well, that was…"

"Terrible," Zuri finished for him, laughing. "Seriously, who picked that movie?"

He grinned, shrugging. "Guilty as charged. I'll do better next time."

The phrase 'next time' hung in the air between them, a promise of more evenings like this. Aurélien found himself not hating the idea.

"So," he said, his tone casual as he absently scratched Zeus behind the ears, "have you ever been to Poland?"

Zuri blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Can't say I have. Why?"

"You should come through," he said, his eyes meeting hers. "I've got a match there next week."

Aurélien watched her, trying to gauge her reaction. Was this too much, too soon?

"That could be… interesting," she said slowly, testing the waters.

He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Cool. It's a date then." As soon as the words left his mouth, Aurélien felt his eyes widen slightly. Shit. Did I really just say that? "I mean," he backtracked, feeling uncharacteristically flustered, "not a date-date, just… you know…"

"I know," Zuri said quickly, saving him from his fumbling. "Sounds good."

They lapsed into silence, the air between them charged with something Aurélien couldn't quite name. As Zuri stood to head to bed, he found himself watching her go, wondering what exactly he'd just set in motion.

A trip to Poland with his arranged fiancée to watch him play football. Life, he mused, had certainly taken an unexpected turn.

TO BE CONTINUED...Read Chapter 3

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