#tchouameni

[leighjadeclimbedmtkilimanjaro]

His FINE ASSSSS

[viejospellejos]

Las sesiones de entrenamiento del Real Madrid esta semana:

[featguler]

Heyyy i have a request for tchouaméni 😄 , where his girlfriend is clingy towards him , always needing to cuddle him just to sleep 🥹🥹🥹

'til there's no tomorrow ────── you reach for his side of the bed.

♡ ────── pairing : aurélien tchouaméni x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader is female. her ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. slight depiction and description of anxiety. pre-established relationship with aure. ♡ ────── wordcount : 490 ♡ ────── notes : anon don't kill me but i kind switched the positions a bit... and this ends up being tchouameni not being able to sleep without his gf LOL. i might do another one where his gf is extra clingy though, just bc it's such a cute idea!! i hope you enjoy this :3 title is from niall horan's you could start a cult ♡ masterlist.

“Aurélien?”

Aurélien would say that as a professional athlete, sleeping has got to be the one aspect of a lifestyle like his that had been undermined like crazy. It’s always stamina, and focus, and strength. But lack of sleep causes your body to gain deadweight—it will grow to rot, stewing in stress while eventually weakening.

This fact had been drilled in his mind.

Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

Even resting is not the same as sleeping.

It is so easy to listen to people in a pair of overpriced joggers and headband ramble on and on about the importance of actually getting the proper amount of sleep, but when you are faced with the reality of a hurt knee joint, or a deteriorating passing performance, your brain just can’t help but insist that instead of spending your nights on the bed, you should be on treadmill, or on a field.

His knee aches, and it shakes. Aurélien had been staring at an empty for the past half an hour or so, the muscles in his legs screaming at him to take a small jog around his house to feel some sort of long-needed adrenaline.

He has enough of being on the bench, if he can just be frank.

Hearing your voice calling out to him in the pitch black, he tenses for a moment, looking behind him, his eyes already adjusted to the dark. “Yes, my love?”

“Are you here?”

Aurélien chuckles, shifting so that he could get a better view of your closed eyes. His hand reaches to stroke your head. “Where else would I be?”

“Not sleeping?” You ask, mumbling your words. You open one eye, trying to search for him, before giving up and closing them again. “Come here, baby, you gotta sleep.”

“I will,” he laughs softly, leaning down to place a soft kiss against your forehead.

“No,” you pout, scooching over to his side of the bed, gripping his arm. “Come here,” you whine, “I wanna hug— wanna cuddle.”

“Aww, “ he coos, giving in to the sweet sound of your whine. He throws himself under the blanket, sprawling one arm under your head while the other wraps itself around your waist. “Are you comfortable?”

You murmur your answer, unclear, before repeating with a quiet, “Yeah, yeah.”

Aurélien watches the way your eyes open lightly, then close again. Your breath is slow, relaxed, and even through the dark, he can see your pretty face change into one expression from the other, as though you have gone back to the land of dreams.

He moves, pressing himself closer against you, lips on top of your nose, before timidly calling out your name, like he is afraid that he would take away some of your precious sleeping time.

When he sees that you did not answer, he chuckles to himself. “I love you,” he says again, still somewhat terrified that he will wake you up, “I love you so much.”

[bahrtofane]

aurélien but his hands itching to find your own. but he only sits quiet, sipping on his drink and moping.

he's usually certain and calculating, on and off the pitch. rarely is there hesitation. and yet for some reason he can only purse his lips and chew them till he's sure they’re bleeding.

what does he even say? his brain is muddled, surrounded by only thoughts of you. You’re beautiful do you know that? you should. he'd tell you a thousand times over.

more than just a pretty face, youre so polite it gives him whiplash. please and thank yous, unsure of where to sit unless someone tells you. only introducing yourself when asked, other wise simply observing.

you had told a little story of a bad lay over when the topic came up and he didnt take his eye off you for a moment. you had smiled sweetly, asking him if he had any storied of his own. its so over isnt it.

the lights of this club- restaurant, whatever, are dimmed. theres so many people mingling about now. waiters and staff running back and forth to his table. eduardo is narrating a story, hands flying around while people laugh at each rise and fall of his eye brows. table now crowed as players models influencers and other variants of people fight to be center stage on the dwindling space on the booth seats.

he pays no real mind to all this. aurélien is a simple guy. the social politics that get attached to something as simple as a night out do not impress him. hes not here for that. he knows many relish the chance, flourish even. but youre much more interesting.

he gets thrown back into the action when eduardo cackles. aurélien knows the story, well enough he thinks he could turn to you and finish it off with his eyes closed. would you listen?

in full honesty he doesn’t remember how you found a place in the booth, sitting next to him. its your first time. hed remember someone like you. you know someone here, he knows that much. but who eludes him. could be anyone, and thats what makes him nervous.

he thinks its whats keeping him from making a proper move on you.

you lean against the table, stifling a laugh as eduardo now wields a spoon as a makeshift prop. he shakes his head fondly, this is the good part.

you meet his gaze, giving him a timid smile, resting your head on your hand. the other checking the time on your phone befre it goes face down on the table.

jude comes back, wide smile as he snickers at the little impromptu show. he scoots up right next to you, planting a kiss to your cheek while you look away, flustered and gently swatting his arm playfully.

oh aurélien is in trouble tonight.

[certainsaturn]

and plays piano as well

[lottaloveydoveys]

I made a few ship names already 😳😳😳

[luvsfootball]

failed date - aurelien tchouameni.

requested by - anon.

request - hi, can u write for aurelien tchouameni pls. no one has ever written anything for him. 🙁

“he what?”

you were back from another failed date, arriving back to your shared apartment with aurelien feeling rather gloomy.

but after two glasses of red wine, he was making the situation seem a lot funnier than it was.

“he tried to pay with a coupon that was one year out of date,” you snorted, pulling your knees up to your chest to carry on painting your toenails.

aurelien sighed as he took the nail varnish off you, grabbing your foot and opening the lid. “you could have called me. i would have picked you up.”

it was true that you didn’t want your date to drop you off home, but he insisted. he didn’t try anything in the car other than talking about how ‘sexy’ you looked. you were greatful you lived in apartment blocks otherwise he would know your actual address.

“it wasn’t the worst date i’ve been on. do you remember elio?”

aurelien laughed at the distant memory of the guy who had ditched you in the middle of nowhere because his girlfriend had called because she was in labour.

when the laughter died down and aurelien had finished painting your nails, he frowned when he noticed the look on your face.

“what is it, anjo?” aurelien grabbed your hand and rubbed circles on your skin, eyes wide as he tried to meet yours. “is there something about me?”

“no, no. you’re perfect. it’s them that have the problems, not you.”

he knew that if he was the one taking you on a date, you’d be treated like royalty.

the pair of you had been friends since children but you had moved to madrid for work as a nurse for the real madrid team.

when aurelien told you of his transfer, you were over the moon and he was the one that suggested the idea of moving in together.

you agreed. rent was a lot cheaper when there was two people paying and there would always be someone there to talk to.

but the thing with aurelien was that he didn’t want to be just a friend you came home to after a long day. he wanted to be more than that. someone you shared a bed with and shared a toothbrush holder with.

and you were the same.

the reason you were going on so many dates recently was because you were trying to fill the hole in your heart.

it only wanted aurelien, no body else.

“thanks. for always being there.”

aurelien softly smiled at you, holding his arms out for you. you settled down onto his chest, closing your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep.

+

aurelien knew he had to tell you one way or another. but he was so nervous.

all day he had been stuttering over his words, so much that you thought he had developed a speech problem overnight.

you both ate dinner together, and even though you were rather chatty, aurelien wasn’t being his usual goofy self.

“aurelien? what’s wrong? you’ve been acting weird all day,” you murmured, placing your hand on top of his.

he pulled away almost automatically and ran it through his hair, blinking rapidly. “i-i don’t know.”

“come on, you can tell me anything,” you frowned when he refused to make eye contact with you and you could also see his chest rising and falling at a fast pace.

“do you remember when we were kids? i told everyone that one day i was going to marry you.”

the fond memory came to mind and you giggled at the image of a young aurelien down on one knee in front of everyone in the playground.

“how can i forget that?”

aurelien felt his stomach tighten and the sudden urge to be sick came over him. it was no or never and he needed to calm down.

with a deep breath, he stuttered over his words, “i want that to be a reality. not just some memory in a playground, i want it to be the best memory of your life. but the real thing, not the fake thing from when we were kids.”

you looked at him like he had two heads. “you want us to get married?”

“no, no,” he repeated firmly, “not yet, anyway.” he didn’t break eye contact, breath shortening as he finally let out the thing that had been weighing him down for months.

“it’s you. it’s always been you. i am so very in love with you and i don’t think i can stop.”

you stared at him in disbelief. the thing you had been wanting to say for a while had come out of his mouth, which you never expected in a million years.

he grabbed your hips with his hands, sighing as he muttered, “i just want you. every single bit of you.”

“you’ve got me, aurelien. i love you too.”

aurelien smiled at you and suddenly everything felt so much better.

you were his now and he was your’s.

[bellinghamism]

Happiness in its purest form