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swimmingismywholelife · 10 months

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The Only Reason

Summary: Even though your relationship with Christian has been rocky, neither of you are willing to go down without a fight.

Warnings: 18+, arguments, panic attack, a lot of crying, angst but a fluffy (if you can call it that I guess) ending, SMUT, some dirty talk, soft dom!Chris, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it and make sure you're not allergic to your wrap!), fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie, the smut is sweet tbh

WC: 4.4K

A/N: It's my birthday but this is a present for all of you! Inspired by "The Only Reason" by 5 Seconds of Summer. My first attempt at smut which lowkey I wasn't supposed to add but it fit anyway. This is a step considering I'm openly horny on main now so you might see more in the future 👀. I literally changed it 1274045923845 times but I'm happy with the way it turned out so I hope you guys think it's good-

"Even though my dizzy head is numb

I swear my heart is never giving up.

You're the reason

The only reason."

~~~

The front door slammed shut, indicating Christian was finally home from training. You sighed, praying this would blow over quickly so you could enjoy your dinner.

The past few weeks had been incredibly frustrating for the both of you. Chelsea had been on a losing streak with hardly any goals and Christian hardly got any play time. He was in the middle of trying to negotiate some sort of deal with the club, either to transfer or give him more playing time. Although it wasn't the option he preferred, it was likely he'd be transferred somewhere else soon, and with that contract talks had to be opened. He loved Chelsea, but the club didn't seem to return that love to him. It heavily weighed on Christian's mind, slowly draining him of the love he had for the sport, sending him deeper into a depressive and angry spiral causing him lash out on everyone.

On top of that, your own stresses had started building up. Your workload had tripled due to you being short staffed. Every time you thought you were done with a project, a modification was added or a brand new one was added to your list of things to do. You were working overtime almost every single day and you were close to ripping your hair out.

Between your work and Christian's training, you'd hardly seen each other over the past few months. He'd been extra short with you recently, something that was pretty unusual for Christian. You were typically the one who struggled to keep your anger in check, but these days it seemed your boyfriend could give you a run for your money. Most days you spent sleeping away from each other as opposed to being cuddled in each others arms. During the very brief moments you did end up spending time together, more often than not it resulted in some kind of an argument.

You both agreed earlier that morning that you were in desperate need of some kind of date night to ease your minds and to spend time together. You decided that a simple dinner would be sufficient enough. It was something small, you wouldn't have to go anywhere, and it was always one of your favorite date ideas since you'd gotten together. You were excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend even if it wasn't anything fancy.

But you knew by the way Christian slammed the door that he thought otherwise. He angrily threw his training bag to the side, grumbling to himself.

"Chris, it doesn't do you any good to pace angrily around the house," you sighed. "At least come eat and try to take your mind off things."

It seemed you only made him angrier.

"God, what don't you get?!" he snapped back. "Fucking food isn't gonna help the situation. Our team is shit, this situation is shit, everything is shit!"

You stood up from your place at the table, upset with Christian for yelling at you when you just wanted to help.

"I understand you're frustrated with everything, but don't take it out on me!" you yelled back. "All I'm trying to do is help you. I'm not a fucking emotional punching bag for you to take your shit out on Christian!"

He slammed his hands on the table, the sound echoing throughout the entire house. It startled you. Christian wasn't one to express his anger through violence like this.

"Why do I even keep fucking trying with you?! All you do is nag and nag and nag! You keep 'trying to help' but you're not!" he screamed back. "All you do is get in my face of 'oh Christian do this,' 'oh Christian try and do that.' Get out of my face for once I'm fucking tired of it!"

You were stunned. Your heart with each word Christian spat out at you. You loved him, but you knew you didn't deserve what he'd been giving you for the past few months.

"Fine. I'll 'get out of your face,'" you said calmly.

"Actually you know what? I'll do it myself. Being in here suffocates me," he said venomously, grabbing his keys and storming out the house.

You moved into the bedroom the two of you shared. What once felt like home to you felt like a prison suffocating you the longer you stood in it. And you just fell to your knees and cried.

You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment where it all started going wrong. You and Christian weren't perfect of course, but you just worked. You understood each other like no one else. You'd experienced things together that you'd never had with other people. You hadn't grown up with Christian in the past, but that didn't matter. He was your present and was going to be your future.

But that was then. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Nowadays he barely made time for you. He was gone before you woke up and you were asleep before he came home. Date nights were nonexistent, special occasions stopped being special. You couldn't keep begging for his attention, wondering if this time would be enough to keep it.

You didn't want things to end. That was absolutely the last thing you wanted to do. You loved Christian with everything you had. But you were the only one trying and you both knew that. Somewhere Christian just fell out of love with you while you were desperately trying to grasp onto something. But it was no use. He was gone a long time ago.

Christian was in the middle of figuring out the trajectory of his career, unsure if he was to wait out his contract with Chelsea for the next season or leave for a club that truly appreciated him. And pretty soon, he would be flying back to the States for international break. The last thing you wanted to do was add onto the stress Christian was feeling.

But how long would you have to keep sacrificing your own happiness for the sake of his?

Christian didn't come home that night, nor the night after that, nor the night after that. Not that you really expected him to. He hadn't been home all that much anyway, and even while he was there physically, he wasn't there. So sleeping alone in your bed wasn't that much of a foreign feeling anymore anyway. And the longer he was away, the foggier your mind became. The answer was right there in front of you. This was Christian blatantly telling you how he felt about your relationship. Right?

It wasn't until about a week later that Christian had contacted you, letting you know he'd be coming back that night. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst.

The door opened, causing you to snap out of your thoughts. You could hear the clattering of the keys being placed on the table and footsteps heading up the stairs.

The lights flickered in your bedroom. Your eyes met his, startling him.

"Oh hey, I didn't realize you'd still be up," Christian said surprised, removing his jacket and placing it on a chair.

"We need to talk Christian," you said, trying to prevent your voice from wavering.

"We'll talk in the morning, Y/N. It's kind of late and I don't want another fight right now," he responded.

"I'm serious Christian," you answered, feeling your heart breaking already. "And I don't think this can wait until morning."

"Why do you keep using my full name?" Christian asked uncomfortably. "You only use it like this when something's really wrong."

You didn't answer. Instead you got up from your place on the bed and hugged his waist, completely breaking down. You felt like you couldn't breathe through all the tears and the pain you felt. Your body gave out as you fell to the ground, taking Christian with you.

For a second time that night, Christian was surprised. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, kissing your head.

"Hey, hey, baby what's wrong? What's going on?" he asked.

You couldn't get the words out. You only cried harder as he led you back to your bed. You took in this moment with him, not knowing if this was the last night you would sharing with him. You tried to memorize the scent of his favorite cologne, how perfectly you fit into his arms, the way his kisses felt. You wanted to remember how safe you felt with Christian and how your heart longed for him to come home to you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay. I'm right here. I won't ever let anything hurt you," he said, trying to soothe you.

Little did he realize he was the reason you were hurting so much.

You held Christian close to you as the weight of your decision started to kick in. You wanted nothing more in this world than to be with Christian. He meant everything to you. You wanted it all with him. You wanted to marry him one day, carry his children, grow old together. You wanted to wear his last name to every game he played, to support him as he reached all his dreams. You could have nothing but Christian and you would be perfectly content.

Your mother had told you growing up that every scenario that came your way had three answers: yes, no, or wait. And you so desperately wanted to believe Christian was your sign that being patient was worth it. That waiting would be worth it. That one day it would bring you the happiness you craved and you deserved.

But how long were you supposed to wait? How long had you waited for him to fulfill his promises? How long had you been patient with him? How long had you stayed loyal every time he'd taken his anger out on you? How long had you been contemplating if you were worth saving? Was this just patience or were you holding onto something that you should've let go of a long time ago?

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier baby," he said, stroking your hair trying to soothe you. "I didn't mean it. I love you so much. I'm sorry. I'm so, so, so sorry."

You couldn't get words out. You needed just one last night to call yourself his before you could make your final decision.

"Just hold me please," you sobbed out, gripping his body as hard as you could.

"I'll do whatever you need baby. I'm right here. I'll always be right here."

Christian was scared. He didn't fully understand what was going on or why you were crying the way you were. But he knew something was off and something was wrong. So he just held you as you let out all the emotions you'd been feeling for weeks.

Christian knew it was more serious than he initially thought when you kept crying for over an hour. He didn't realize how absent he'd been from your life until then. How long had you been feeling such emotional turmoil? What else had he missed? Why were you crying this hard for so long?

Truthfully, he was afraid to find out. As shitty of a boyfriend he'd been over the past few weeks, Christian loved you with every fiber of his being. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, the relationship you'd built up for years together.

But he knew the likelihood of a break up was probably looming in your mind. Was this it? Was this a sign that something was coming to an end? He didn't want to know. He knew you two needed to talk, especially after the way he walked out. But he was afraid of the outcome.

So he just held you close to him, praying this wouldn't be the last time he got to feel you like this. He took in your scent, trying to memorize the way you felt in his arms. He left kisses on your forehead, shoulders, and cheeks, wiping the tears away as he went.

You eventually calmed down, your grip on Christian never loosening.

"Christian I-" you gasped out.

"It's okay baby, take your time. You don't have to rush anything you don't want to," he whispered gently, kissing your forehead again.

"I'm sorry," you said quietly.

"Baby, you have nothing to be sorry about," he said. "If anything, I should be the one who's sorry. I've been such a horrible boyfriend. I shouldn't have said what I said, I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Christian…" you trailed.

"Shh, it's okay baby. It's okay. We don't have to talk about this right now. We can talk about this in the morning. Just let me hold you right now. Everything is going to be okay," he said softly.

"Chris I'm scared," you whispered.

His heart broke a little knowing you were scared of what morning would entail.

"I'm scared too baby. I'm so fucking scared," he admitted. "But we'll talk about this when it comes okay? Just be here with me now. Nothing else is going to hurt you tonight I promise."

The two of you were laying on your side facing each other. Your head was tucked into his chest, tears flowing every so often. Christian never once let go, not even when his arms started going numb. You were afraid to close your eyes, scared that Christian would be gone the moment you opened them.

Your body stopped shaking and you eventually stopped crying during the early morning hours. You were quiet. And if he didn't know you well, Christian would've believed you were asleep.

But he knew better. He knew that you couldn't sleep because neither could he. Just two souls barely hanging on by a thread not knowing how to fix it.

Did you want to fix things? Or were things so far gone there was nothing you could do anymore? Was this still worth it? Was a future still possible? Would love be enough to save this?

You were set on breaking up with him the night before. You were so sure that's what you wanted. But under the moonlight that peaked through your window, you didn't know what to do anymore. Your head was dizzy with thoughts and you couldn't think clearly anymore.

"Christian?" you called out quietly.

"Yeah?"

"What are we doing?"

His body tensed at the question. He was quiet at first, not wanting to say the wrong thing. He knew this was it. His answer would either make or break your relationship.

"I don't know baby," he answered honestly.

You nestled your head further into his chest.

"I don't want to keep doing this. Guessing if you still want us. You're either in or you're out Chris. I don't want to keep playing your games."

Christian had to stop himself from letting out a sob and took a deep breath. You didn't trust him or his words anymore. And realizing that absolutely broke his heart.

"Can you look at me Y/N?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment before lifting your head. Christian cupped your cheek with his hand, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth. He rested his forehead on yours.

"You don't have to say anything okay? Just hear me out. I know I've been a shitty boyfriend. I know I haven't been there for you. I haven't treated you well. I've lashed out on you when you've done nothing but love and support me. Through all the shit the world's thrown at me this season, you've been everything I need and more. And I haven't appreciated that. And you deserve so much more than what I've been giving you."

Christian stopped for a moment, taking the opportunity to look at you. How could he have hurt you so bad? How could he let everything slip between his fingers?

"I'm sorry for everything I've put you through. I'm sorry that you've lost trust in my words. You always tell me that my words, my actions, and my intentions need to line up and they haven't been and I'm so sorry for that. I'm sorry I've broken so many promises. And most of all, I'm sorry that you're hurting and I'm the cause of it when I told you I'd never let anyone hurt you. I failed to see what was right in front of me and I've taken you for granted and I'm so sorry."

A tear fell from your eye, quickly caught by Christian's thumb.

"I don't deserve you. I really don't. You know that and I know that better than anyone."

He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead further into yours.

"But please don't give up on us. I know you can't trust my words right now, but I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I can't let you go. Not now and not ever. No more games. No more confusion. No more trying to guess where my head and where my heart stand with you. Right here, right now, forever and always I'm with you. My head is with you. My heart is with you. All of me is with you. And I promise I'll prove it every day for as long as I live. So please. Give me one last chance to be with you."

You didn't know what to say. You didn't know what you wanted anymore. How could you trust him? He was saying all the right words, but did he really mean it? Were they more empty words?

Yes, no, or wait. Just like your mother said. But you'd waited so long that it seemed almost futile. Had you been wasting your time? Or was this what you were meant to do?

And though your head was fighting with itself, dizzy and numb from the constant questions running around, you knew where your heart lied. So you did the only thing you felt could portray how you felt enough to give him and answer.

You lifted your chin and kissed him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck. His grip on your cheek was firm, bringing you as close as you could physically get. The tears wouldn't stop flowing from either of your faces, but none of that mattered. What mattered was here and now.

Yes, no, or wait. And you finally got your answer.

He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And truthfully, he needed you to breathe.

You pulled back ever so slightly, just enough for you to be able to talk.

"You get one chance at this Chris. Only one," you said breathlessly. "Don't waste it."

His lips were back on yours in response, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. You let out a soft moan as he pushed you onto your back, settling himself in between your legs. He pulled back keeping his forehead to yours breathing heavily.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so much you don't even know," he said. "I won't waste it. Not ever again."

You grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to your lips, needing to feel him closer. Your hands traveled underneath his shirt, nails scratching his skin lightly as they roamed his chest.

Christian pulled back from you for a moment to rip his shirt off before attaching his lips back to yours, giving you more access to him. You couldn't keep your hands off each other, your legs wrapping around his hips to bring you even closer to him.

"Chris," you whispered. "I need-"

"I know baby," he answered. "I know. Let me take care of you."

You whimpered beneath him as his lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of marks as he gave you sloppy but gentle kisses. He bit down on the spot just below your ear, causing you to let out a loud moan.

"Does that feel good baby?" he whispered into your ear, sending shivers down your spine that resonated throughout your whole body.

"God yes Chris it feels so good please," you begged beneath him.

His hands grabbed the bottom of your shirt, bringing it over your head and pressing his chest against yours as he kissed your lips gently.

"So fucking beautiful. And all mine," he said to himself.

His lips returned to your neck, this time the trail leading to your breasts. You gasped as you felt his tongue along your nipple, pressing yourself further into his mouth. You only squirmed more as he moved to your other side, your fingers tangled in his hair tugging lightly. He kissed down your torso until he reached the band of your shorts.

"May I?" he asked softly.

You nodded your head frantically.

"Words baby." His fingers hooked into them, toying with the fabric. "You know the drill. I can't give you what you want unless you tell me."

"Yes please," you whined, wiggling your hips in the hopes of getting the clothing off you faster.

"Please what Y/N?"

"Please take them off Chris please. I wanna feel you on my pussy please, please, please."

"Good girl."

He slowly slid your shorts down, taking a little too long for your liking. He kissed down your stomach, loving how you were falling apart beneath him.

His fingers rubbed over the dark spot of your underwear. You gasped, hands grabbing the sheets tightly. He moved his fingers almost in a trance watching as the patch grew darker and larger.

"You're so fucking wet baby. You like it when I touch you like this?" he chuckled.

"Yes I love feeling you play with my pussy!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his fingers.

Christian pulled your underwear to the side. You shivered in anticipation as you felt Christian's breath on your lips.

"Can I taste you?" he asked, running his fingers through your folds.

"God yes! Please let me feel your tongue," you begged, lacing your fingers through his hair to bring him closer.

"As you wish princess."

Your back arched the moment his tongue made contact with you. He licked from the bottom all the way to your clit, lightly sucking on it. You moaned tugging at his curls. The louder you moaned, the faster he went alternating between licking and sucking. Your thighs closed around his head as you pushed him closer to you.

You were so lost in the pleasure that you were surprised when Christian inserted two of his fingers into your folds. You moaned even louder at the intrusion.

"God Christian more please. Please I need more!"

You were begging, but you didn't even know what you were begging for. You just wanted him to keep going.

Christian was enjoying every second of this. He loved watching you fall apart beneath him.

"You need more baby? So greedy. My tongue sucking on your clit and my fingers deep inside your pussy. What else could you want?" he teased, picking up the speed as he fucked you with his fingers.

You couldn't form any proper sentences anymore. Incoherent noises left your mouth as your body started shaking uncontrollably, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

"Damn baby you're shaking. Are you close already? I've barely even done anything," he mused, inserting a third finger and fucking you even faster.

"God I'm so fucking close please let me cum! Please please please I need to cum please Christian please!" you all but screamed.

"Shh, it's okay. You can cum baby. Let it go for me," he said softly.

Your vision went blank as you came, your hands grasping at Christian's curls to anchor you to reality. Your legs shook violently as Christian continued coaxing your climax out of you, only slowing down as your body started spasming with overstimulation.

"Christian I need more," you whined, gasping for air.

"I know baby, I know. I'll take good care of you," he said. "I'm right here okay?"

Christian kissed your lips gently, making your heart flutter. He softly caressed your face admiring how you glowed under the moonlight. You melted under his gaze holding him close to you.

"You okay?" he asked.

You nodded, giving him the go ahead. He moved back just enough to remove his bottoms before taking his place between your legs again. He placed both of his hands gently on your cheeks, resting his forehead against yours. He looked deep into your eyes as his thrusted his hips into yours. You gasped into his mouth as he picked up the speed, grinding slow but deep.

"I love you Christian," you moaned breathlessly.

"I love you Y/N," he responded. "I love you so much. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me and I'm sorry I made you feel otherwise. And I'll spend the rest of my life proving my worth to you."

The room was quiet except for the skin slapping against each other and the soft gasps you let out. You grabbed Christian's neck, bringing him as close as you possibly could. You needed him in every sense of the word, wanting to feel every inch of his skin on yours. He was yours and you were his. Your bodies intertwined in the same way your souls had all those years ago and that was all you really needed.

"Chris I need-" you were cut off with a particularly deep thrust making you moan, tugging at the curls on the nape of Christian's neck.

"I'm close too baby. Cum with me. Become one with me Y/N."

You had one of the strongest orgasms you'd ever had in your life. Your chest pressed into his as his cum filled you up, clenching your pussy around him. You held each other tightly, afraid to lose one another as space came between you.

The both of you laid there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of being so intimate. You gasped into each others mouths as your heartrates began to slow down ever so slightly.

"God you're so beautiful. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Christian said in awe of you.

You flushed beneath him becoming shy.

"Babe you just came all over my dick. You really shouldn't be that shy," he said cheekily. You scoffed and hit his chest slightly.

"You're actually ridiculous," you said lovingly, pressing your lips to his for a quick kiss.

He pecked you once more before pulling out of you. He got up, grabbing a towel and gently cleaning your body. He left kisses as he went, worshipping your body. Once he was done, he laid on his back bringing your head onto his chest. He kissed the top of your head as you tucked yourself beneath his arm.

"Are we okay Christian?" you asked meekly.

"Yeah baby. We're okay. We're gonna be okay."

Taglist: @pulisicsgirl @chelseagirl98 @thoseboysinblue @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @masonspulisic @notsoattractivearenti @lovelynikol16 @bracedes @mortirolo @nyctophilic0vitnir

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fic #swimmingismywholelife

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lmaopuli · 6 months

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Never Leaving

*credits to gif owner

Christian Pulisic Angst

Warnings: argument, angry Christian, sad Christian, swearing

Word count: ~1k

———

“Are you… leaving?”

You jumped at Christian’s question, not expecting him to come into your shared bedroom already. You didn’t want to look up at him yet, for him to see the tears still lingering in your eyes. You kept your gaze on the laundry you were folding, realizing it looked like you were gathering clothes to pack up and leave. You sighed, hoping and praying your voice wouldn’t give away your broken heart, “No, I’m just folding up our clothes.” You were hurt, really hurt, but you would never leave.

Christian lingered around the doorway, too nervous to come close to you yet. He had no idea what you were feeling, about the fight, about him. You still haven’t looked up at him, but if you did, you’d see the tears still lingering in his eyes, just like with you. He brought his hand up to face, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose at the memory of how he spoke to you just moments ago.

——

“I’m fucking sick of you saying the same shit over and over again every time we come home!” Christian snapped.

“What the hell am I supposed to say as your girlfriend, huh? Am I not supposed to support you?” You spat back, tired of the way he’s spoken to you, not just today but the past few weeks. “You want me to say you guys played like shit today? That you won’t be getting better? Is that what you want?”

“You keep suffocating me!” He responded. He’d regret his words later, but now, he was seeing red. “Just leave me the fuck alone!”

“Fine” you mumbled, shocked that he’d go that low. Tears were welling up in your eyes, but you turned around before Christian could see. You couldn’t deal with this anymore. “I’ll leave you alone.”

——

“I thought you wanted space. What are you doing here?” you sniffled, annoyed with yourself that couldn’t keep your emotions in check anymore.

You looked up at Christian, and his heart squeezed uncomfortably at your blotchy eyes and red nose. He did this to you. He upset his perfect, angel of a girlfriend, and he didn’t know if he could forgive himself for it.

“God, baby—fuck, I'm sorry—I don’t want space from you. I didn’t mean that,” he stumbled, but you didn’t let him finish.

“Then why did you say it? It was so much worse at Chelsea, and you never spoke to me like that then.”

You were right. Some weeks were absolute hell at his old club, but one of the things you admired most about him was that he could separate it from your relationship. You were his safe space when things got tough. He couldn’t care less about what fans were saying on social media, as long as he could come home to you. You couldn’t figure out why a few tough games at Milan, when overall he was doing great, could get to him like this.

Christian sighed, trying to figure out a way to convey how he was feeling. You could sense the turmoil in his eyes, and motioned for him to sit next to you on the bed. A few moments ago, the last thing you wanted was to speak to him—but now, you needed to know what was clearly bothering your boyfriend.

“Chris, talk to me, please.” You pleaded after he sat down, placing your hand on his knee.

“This move to Milan’s been harder than I thought it was going to be.”

Your heart dropped at his confession. The fans have been amazing to him, so have his teammates and coaching staff. What? Your brows knitted in confusion.

“I just feel like there’s been a lot of pressure from everyone with how my time at Chelsea ended,” he continued, “I wanna prove that I can do really well here, and not just for a season.”

“Baby you’re doing amazing so far—”

“But the team isn’t right now. And I’m scared they’re gonna start making me the scapegoat again.” The tears previously welled up in Christian’s eyes were now flowing down his face.

Oh.

It took you a few seconds to register what he said, and you felt sick at how long he’s been keeping this from you.

“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” You asked, trying to brush the tears from his face.

“Because this is a huge adjustment for you too. You’re in a new country, learning a new language, trying to get along with the other girlfriends and wives and—”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about this. We’re a team, okay? You take care of me all the time, listen to my problems, give me advice,” you gently grabbed his face, making his red, teary eyes meet yours, “I wanna do that for you too.”

Christian didn’t know what to say. He tried to calm his ragged breathing, but you pulled him into your embrace, comforting him yourself, rubbing his back and leaving kisses on his hair—like he’s done with you countless times before. You had no idea how long you both were sat there, it could’ve been anywhere from a few minutes to an hour.

Christian mumbled something into your neck, but you couldn’t understand him with the way he was pressed into your body.

“What was that, baby?” you asked, imploring him to repeat what he said. He reluctantly lifted his head from your neck. His eyes were still a little red and cheeks had some remnants of tears, but he was looking a lot better.

“I said I’m terrified to lose you,” he said softly, voice cracking slightly.

You felt a pit in your stomach, tears pricking your eyes for the third time that night. Pecking the corner of his mouth, you whispered back, “You’re never gonna lose me,” and then you pressed your lips against his, showing him you weren’t going anywhere, that you would never leave.

———

Christian is my first footballer love, and this fic was so out of my comfort zone, but I hope you Puli girls enjoyed it 🫶🏼 as always, feedback, reblogs, and likes are so so appreciated :) MUAH

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic imagine #Molly’s Puli fics #Molly’s footy fics #christian pulisic x reader

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neverinadream · 1 year

Text

~~~~~~~~~~~ | M Y I M A G I N E S | ~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~ | M Y N A M E O N Y O U R S K I N | ~~~~

Summary: You thought wearing Reece's jersey might finally make him crack but it only serves to make things worse for you.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: The Loneliest - Måneskin

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, angst, jealous!christian, fwb!christian, dom!christian to soft!dom!christian, sub!reader, brat!reader, dirty talk, reader is called a slut, whore, pet names (good girl, baby girl...), praise kink, degradation, mentions of ownership, possessiveness, graffiti - you'll see what i mean, oral (christian receiving), thigh riding, choking, hair pulling, fingering, teasing, begging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms NOT EDITED

Notes: the smut is decent-ish and the angst is terrible (i couldn't quite execute what i was originally intending for) so feedback is greatly appreciated. tagging @kepamount who wanted to be reminded when the fic came out though she will probably hate me now for making it angsty

You whimper as his fingers tangle in your hair, tugging on it until the back of your head was resting against his shoulder. "Look at yourself in the mirror," Christian orders, his voice so deep in your ear it has your pussy clenching around the two fingers pushed deep inside of you. You squeak as he tugs at your hair, too impatient to even give you a second to follow his orders. "Look at yourself and watch me play with this pretty pussy," he purrs, untangling his fingers from your hair to wrap his free hand around your throat.

Following his command, you stare back at yourself in the mirror, a breathy moan spilling from your lips at the sight of you both. He had you sitting on the end of your bed, your jeans and panties removed, discarded in a heap on the floor. You were positioned between his own legs, two strong thighs enduring a small amount of pain as you dug your nails into them. And, with your legs forced apart, he pumped two fingers in and out of you, spreading your wetness over your pussy each time he pulled them out to tease your clit.

His thumb strokes over your pulse point, feeling its erratic pace, and sniggers in your ear. "You thought you were being smart wearing his shirt, didn't you?" His grip tightens as you look away from the mirror. "Don't look at me! Don't you fucking look at me! Look at the fucking mirror and watch yourself cum all over these fucking fingers!"

"Christian-"

"Shut up!" He dismisses your protest, groaning in your ear as the squelching on his fingers moving in and out of you fills the silence. His thumb presses harshly onto your clit, stroking it in a way that has you struggling to keep focused on your reflection.

"You better fucking cum for me, princess," he says, now watching your reflection, studying the expressions that were twisting and appearing on your face, "you're taking these fingers far too well to come this far and not cum all over them."

His long, thick fingers intensify the throbbing you feel building up in your core and have your hips bucking wildly against his hand. Incoherent moans and phrases of praise slip from your lips.

"That's it," his voice rasps in your ear, "cum all over my fingers. Show me what it'll feel like when I've you face down on this bed and my cock buried inside you."

Every part of your body is physically shaking as your orgasm rips through you. You cry out his name, feeling your pleasure spreading through your body, the sensation showing no signs of stopping as Christian keeps pumping his fingers. "Chris-" You stutter and splutter his name. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and your back arches away from his chest.

"That feels so good, doesn't it?"

You nod your head, feeling like a mess as you slump into him. "Too good," you mumble, a moan tripping off your lips when pulls his fingers out.

He taps his fingers to your chin, mumbling, "open up," as he presses his lips against your temple. Humming, you oblige his request and wait with your mouth wide open to him. "Suck," he tells you, pressing his two wet fingers against your tongue, "clean your mess up." A groan sounds in your ear as you do as you are told, smirking when you feel his head hide in your neck. "I should've fucked that pretty little mouth instead."

"You still could."

You take his fingers out of your mouth, dragging your tongue on the underside of them, making him groan again as he thinks about your tongue running along his shaft. Dropping his hand, you sink onto the floor and turn yourself around to face him, resting your bum on your ankles as you tuck your feet underneath you. Before, you could feel his hard cock pressing into you, but now that you were knelt in front of him, you could see just how much he was straining against the confinement of his grey boxers.

You run your hands over his bare thighs, trying not to smile at the indents your nails had left behind. "Can I?" You ask, batting your eyelashes.

"I don't know," he answers, taking himself out. He tightens his fist around the base and pumps it a few times. "Do you deserve it?" You nod your head with enthusiasm. He cocks his eyebrow. "Do you? Have you been good enough to deserve it?"

"Yes."

He bends down and kisses your forehead, a fleeting moment of softness amongst the rough handling you had experienced since he had shown up at your door. "You're such a fucking liar," he whispers against you, sniggering at the gasp that escapes. And just like that, all the softness was gone.

"Put your hands behind your back," he orders, shifting to sit on the very end of the bed. You obliged, bending your arms behind you and locking your fingers together. With one hand, he holds the back of your neck, whilst the other guides his hard cock toward you. "Come on, open up," he instructs, keep hold of your gaze as you stare up at him, "stick your tongue out for me, baby." You do as you are told, swirling your tongue around the tip, tasting the pre cum that seeped from the head. "That's a good girl," he groans, placing some tension on the back of your neck.

You wrap your lips around him, gently sucking on his head, before taking as much of him as you possibly could into your mouth. But it isn't enough for him. "You can take more than that. I know you can take more than that," he grunts, taking his hand off your neck and burying it into your hair. He drives his hips forward, the tip nudging the back of your throat, making you gag and splutter around him. "Breathe through your nose," he releases his hand from the base of his shaft, bringing it over to join his other in your hair, "that's it. Just like that! Fuck, y/n."

Through watery eyes, you watch his head fall back, deep, satisfied grunts and groans coming from his mouth as it hangs open. "Fuck," he curses, driving himself deeper and nearly cumming there and then as he feels you hollowing your cheeks, "shitting fuck, baby girl."

You moan around him, the vibration running through his hardened length, leaving him choking on an intake of air. "Do that again," he orders, pulling on your hair and then pushing your head down as he flexes his hips. His hand tightens and his body spasms as you moan around him again.

"You're such a fucking slut," he grunts, clearing his throat. His thrusts become hard and sloppy, letting you know he was close to finishing. "Should've done this the second I saw Reece's name on your back," he says, staring down into your eyes, "should've done it in front of him-" He quickly shakes his head no. "-should've done it front of all the boys, let them know just who this whore belongs to."

His body spasms, his thighs and the muscles in his stomach tensing as his hips come to an abrupt stop. "Oh, Je-" His words get trapped in the back of his throat, grunting and spilling himself into your mouth. You swallow every bit of him that he has to give you, using your thumb to clean up any spillage, a sight that has him groaning out loud as you suck your thumb clean.

"Did you swallow it all?"

Nodding your head, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out for him to see. "Ever last bit," you reply, grinning up at him.

His fingers hook under your chin, using the leverage to pull you up to your feet. "Good girl," he hums, taking his free hand and guiding your body to stand between his legs, "see, I don't know why you have to act like such a brat when clearly you can be a good girl for me."

"It's all your fault," you whimper as he sits you down on his thigh.

He tilts his head to the side. "My fault?" You nod your head, rolling your lip between your teeth as you bite down on your bottom lip. Pinning you against his thigh, you give into him and let him grind you against his thigh. "How is this any of my fault?" He questions you, spreading your wetness over his thigh as he drags your hips back and forth over him. "I wasn't the one who started this, remember?" He releases one of your hips, guiding his hand to wrap around your neck, grabbing at it with a tight grip. You gasp as he pulls you towards him, his eyes staring into yours as he whispers, "you did."

Crashing your lips against his, you bury your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails against his scalp. He hisses and tightens his grip, but you don't release the tension. You pull harder on his hair, only to whimper when he bites at your bottom lip, dragging it with him as he pulls away.

"Answer my question." He flexes his thigh and your body jolts at the added pressure against your clit. "Tell me why this is my fault."

"Because you never pay me any attention," you stutter, meeting resistance as you try to grind your hips at a speed that didn't antagonise you.

"I don't pay attention to you?" He sniggers, or rather snorts. "If I don't pay attention to you then what is it that I'm doing right now? Huh?" He moves his hand to grip your jaw, pinching it between his fingers. He kisses the base of your neck, pushing your head back to allow him more access to you. "Am I not paying you attention right now? Am I not letting you get off on my thigh? Did I not just let you suck on my cock?" You whimper and whine, the sound cut off as he pushes his thumb into your mouth and pulls your head back down to look at him. "Is that not enough for you?"

"No," you answer, mumbling around his thumb that was gagging you.

"No?"

You take his thumb out of your mouth, wiping the bit of spit that lingered away on the back of your hand. "You only pay attention to me when it matters to you," you find the courage to tell him, the recent developments in your arrangement not to your liking at all. It was why you had chosen to wear Reece's jersey over his own. You wanted to show him that you weren't a form of property.

That you weren't his property to use when he felt like it.

Your arrangement had become one-sided. You were the one who was expected to drop everything when he called. You were the one who was expected to go over to his place in the middle of the night because he was rock hard and his hand and five minutes of porn couldn't do the trick. He'd never do the same for you.

He used to.

But not anymore.

"You use me like I'm your personal fucking sex toy," you bite, trying to still your hips. You wasn't going to give him the satisfaction on cumming on his thigh. "I'm not your personal fucking sex toy!"

"But that's what you are, princess," he replies with a coldness that strikes you as being odd to you like he was trying to mask something. His thumb pushes into your cheek, prodding and poking at it. "You're my personal sex toy, my property to use whenever I want," he amuses, smirking to himself, "and you're no better than a common whore for answering every time that I call. I bet you are already dripping when you see that it's me calling you late at night. Thinking about all the things I'm gonna do to you when you get to mine. You love it."

"Don't call me that!"

"What? A whore?" He rolls his eyes. "Funny. You were begging me to call you one the other night." He gives your ass a harsh squeeze, the tips of his fingers bruising the skin, and drags your hips further up his thigh. "Don't act like you don't like it when I call you a whore," you whimper as he tightens his grip, "don't act like you don't like it when I say that this pussy, or this ass, or these tits are mine, because they are mine and you like it. Say it. Say that you like it when I say all of these things."

"I don't."

It was a lie.

"Yes, you do."

He sighs and pushes you to stand up. "I'm tired of looking at your face," he waves his hand towards the bed, "go on. Hands and knees."

And despite everything that had just been said between the two of you, you do as your told.

He tugs on your hips until your ass is resting in the air. It's a view that has him licking his lips. "Hold onto the bed," he mumbles, not waiting for you to reach for the bars of your bed frame before he is lining his cock up. Your pillow absorbs the satisfied cry when he slides into you, stretching you slowly. "I'm going to fuck this pussy like it's mine," he grunts, forgetting to wait for your body to adjust, "because, princess, this is my pussy. And you're going to take it like a good girl, aren't you?"

You're stunned to silence, too much pleasure and overstimulation leaving you without the ability to talk back. Pushing your hips back to meet each of his thrusts, your ass bounces off him and lets him go even harder, filling the room with the echo of skin slapping against each other. "Christian," you finally find your voice again, squeezing the bars until your knuckles were straining against your skin, "gonna-"

"No, you're not!" He cuts you off, grunting as he abruptly pulls out of you. You whine, backing your hips up in seek of a release, but he grips them and pushes them into the mattress. "Take it off!" He's pulling at the jersey and you were surprised that he hadn't just tried to rip it off your body. "You're not cumming with his fucking name on your back," jealously rolls so easily off his tongue, "not again."

Helping him to remove the jersey, you whimper as he tugs it harshly over your head.

"It's a little late to reach for a condom, isn't it?" You ask, turning to watch him reaching for the bedside table. Pulling it open, you feel his cock pressing into your ass as he leans forward, teasing that dull emptiness you were feeling again. "Not to mention, I keep them in the other one. Pretty sure you should know that by now."

"I'm not reaching for that," Christian replies, whatever he had taken out was concealed in the palm of his hand. His lips graze against your bare shoulder, biting down against the base of your neck and leaving a fresh hickey as he pulls away. "You've had Reece's name on your back for far too long today," turning your head you see him holding a marker pen in his right hand, "I think it's time to put my name where it's rightfully meant to be."

"Rightfully?" You raise your eyebrows. "I'm not yours," you goad him, sucking in a sharp breath as he uses his free hand to push the head of his cock against your entrance, "I can wear whatever name I want on my back; maybe I'll ask Kai for his shirt-"

"Kai has a girlfriend-"

"And so does Reece," you talk over him, "but he didn't seem to mind giving me his shirt."

He gasps and groans, relishing in the moment as slips himself back inside, feeling your walls tighten and pulsate around him. "Yes, he does," he remembers his original train of thought, releasing his hand from the base of his shaft and taking hold of your hip. His tight grip prevents you from moving your hips, much to your own displeasure. "And that girlfriend isn't you."

He bites off the pen's lid, spitting it away from both of you, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. The tip of the marker is cold against your warm, sweat-glistened skin, and it doesn't take long to figure out he was writing PULISIC in the space between your shoulders. Your head snaps back to look at him, ignoring the ache between your legs as he stares back at you with dark, lusty eyes and a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat.

"Watch how you look at me, princess," he warns, twirling the pen around his finger like he was gloating or something, "I might just end up writing my name on other parts of your body. Parts of your body that belong to me."

"They're not yours," you bite back. He tosses the pen carelessly over his shoulder, not caring where it landed, or if the ink would run into your bedroom carpet. "None of my body parts are yours," you still bite back, despite the whimper that slips off your lips when he grabs your bum fully in both hands, "I don't belong to you."

He's still grinning and starts to thrust into you in a slow manner that drives you crazy. "She says, despite it being my cum she just swallowed!"

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

"Wasn't a joke, baby girl. Only the truth."

Your head hangs into your chest, your eyes rolling when you hear his cocky snigger. "I hate you," you mutter under your breath.

He stops thrusting his hips, the tip only nestled inside, teasing a whimper and whine of protest to spill from your lips. "What was that?" He tuts when you don't answer him. "Oi," he gives your bum a pinch. Your head snaps back at the fleeting moment of pain, meeting that cocky grin all over again. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," you lie, wiggling your hips to try and ease the ache. He shakes his head, "no," pulling completely out of you. "Christian-"

"Tell me what you said," he cuts you off.

He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, guiding the tip between your folds, teasing you as it trails from your clit to your hole. The light touch has you squirming, whimpering, and clenching around nothing, and Christian was loving every second of it.

"Tell me what you said and I'll put my cock back in." He leans forward, kissing along the back of your shoulder and up your neck. "And that's what you really want, huh? You want this fat cock back inside of you, don't you?" He spoke directly into your ear, his lips pressed up against the shell. "Now stop being a dirty fucking brat," he rasps, making you gasp out loud, "and tell me what you said!"

Pushing up onto your elbows, you work with the minimal space available to you and turn over onto your back. You collapse back onto the mattress, your head sinking into the pillow, and look up at Christian, who props himself up on his biceps, caging you underneath him.

"Well?" He waits for you to speak, raising his eyebrows, which had a small amount of sweat to them, as he keeps hold of your gaze.

"I said, "oh, daddy, that feels so good,"" you decide to lie, internally cringing at calling him daddy. 'Daddy' was one of the few terms that were quickly made of limits during sex. Neither of you felt right about it. "So big and so good," you coo, running your hands down his toned chest. He chokes on the air as you wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping it up and down at a slow pace. "It's just perfect to fill this dirty, needy, fucking whore up." A sharp gasp follows as you slip his cock back inside.

His eyes fall shut and his jaw tenses. "Stop prattling about and tell me what you said," he says, lifting one arm off the bed. Reaching for your wrist, he pins your arm above your head. He grunts as his hips stop moving, the full length of his cock pushed deep inside of you. "Say it," he whispers, his breath touching your lips as his mouth hovers above yours.

You chase his lips, meeting the corner of his mouth as he turns his head away from you. "Fine," you sigh, wriggling your wrist to feel more comfortable, "I said I hate you."

"No, you don't."

You nod your head, biting your bottom lip to stop the moan from creeping up your throat as he rolls his hips into you. "I do," you stutter, a whimper now falling from your lips as Christian pulls back, thrusting his hips forwards as far as he could until he met resistance.

"You don't," he chuckles, "I know you don't."

"I do."

"Well, that's a shame," he drawled, the corners of his lips tugging into a lazy smile. He dips to kiss your neck, humming contently when your head instinctively rolls back to give him extra room to reach. He releases your wrist, bringing his hand down in search of your leg. "Because I like you," he whispers into your skin, grabbing you by the knee and lifting your leg higher around his waist. Your other leg follows it, your ankles locking together and caging him in. His hands cradle your face, lips brushing against your hairline as he whispers, "I like you so fucking much, baby girl."

It was a lie, you told yourself, just something to feed your delusions and to get you to cum for him. But it worked.

It always worked.

He holds his face close to yours, his lips absorbing every little sound you made as your hips moved together with his. Your skin, clammy with sweat, burned with fire, and tingled with pleasure. You cry out his name, throwing your head back into the pillow, when he brings his hand down between you both, touching your clit in a controlled and deliberate manner.

"That's it," he encourages, "give it to me." His head dips into the crook of your neck, kissing and tasting the sweat on your skin. "Give it to me, baby," you arch your body into him, feeling his chest vibrate against yours as he spoke, "fucking give it to me." Not too long after, with the encouragement of feeling you tightening and pulsating around him, he finishes inside you with a loud groan and his fingers bruising your skin as he grips your body tightly.

Convincing himself to finally pull out, you were glad to see him sitting on the edge of your bed, pulling his boxers back on as he stands. It meant that he would be leaving soon; leaving you to wallow in your regret, only for you to do it all over again the next time he calls. His head turns back, looking over his shoulder, and watches you climb off the bed. He should've stopped you, told you to stay where you were and that he would get you a warm cloth to clean yourself with, but you were already walking out of the door before he could think of the words to say.

He finds you in the bathroom, looking at your back in the mirror, trying to clean off his name. "Let me-"

"No," you sigh, failing to reach your back, "I've got it."

He ignores you and you don't protest as he takes the warm cloth from your hand. He takes care not to be too rough as he drags the cloth across your skin, wiping away his own handwriting. Out of the moment, he now realised how immature and possessive he had been writing his own surname on your back. "I'm sorry," he apologises, bending down to kiss your shoulder.

You shift uncomfortably on the spot. "Don't do that," you mumble, tightening your grip on the bathroom counter. A knot has formed in the back of your throat and you believed if you were to look at him, even for a second, you would burst into tears. Grabbing the old t-shirt you had taken into the bathroom, you pulled it over your head, ignoring Christian when he tells you he hadn't finished. "It'll come off in the shower," you mumble, trying to squeeze past him.

"Please," he reaches out to you, touching at your sides as he runs his hands up and down your sides, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever," you mutter, looking down at your feet.

He hooks his fingers under your chin, tilting your head back to look at him. His face sinks when he sees the tears brimming in your eyes. "Fuck," he mumbles, this isn't how he wanted any of this to go down. His hand cradles your face and it takes every bit of your strength not to lean into his touch. "Oh, god," he stumbles over his words, trying to apologise to you, "I didn't mean to upset you when I wrote on your back. It was immature, I know that - fuck -"

You scoff, rolling your eyes as you shove his hand away. Tears roll slowly down your cheeks, fresh tears falling from your eyes every time you blinked. "You could've written on my pussy, for all I care," you cut him off, feeling the bathroom counter press into your back as you step away from him, "I don't care about that!"

The crack in your voice makes him want to touch you, wipe away your tears, and hold you, but he doesn't move. It's the harshness in your tone that makes him stay stuck in the same spot.

"I knew this would've never worked," you dismiss yourself, a quiet sob leaving your lips as you wipe away your tears, "we actually thought you might finally crack if you saw me in someone else's jersey. How stupid I was for believing that you might have actually liked me more than just enough to have sex with me." Sniffling, you glance up at him. "But I guess I was wrong."

He frowns. "You think I only like you enough to just have sex with you?"

"Clearly," you murmur, chewing down on the pad of your thumb.

"That's not tr-"

"Don't tell me it's not the truth, when I know it is the truth, Christian! I meant it when I said you only pay me attention when it matters to you!" His expression hadn't changed and he was still frowning. "What happened? When did your needs become greater than mine? You make up excuses not to see me, but then expect me to drop everything when you call, which I do, every single time, and I hate myself for it. I hate you for it! And I know I should tell you it's over, that I can't see you anymore, because every time I let you in, I break a piece of my heart hoping that maybe, just maybe, you'll drop the roughness and tell me you love me like I love you!"

You clamp your hand over your mouth, the last part slipping out without a second thought. "I-I-I-" You're like a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over again. Never had you said those words before. Ever. They were meant to be said when you were happy, not with a face dampened with tears and pain so heavy in your chest.

"You love me?" Christian asks, the colour draining from his face.

You take a deep in, attempting to calm your hammering heart. "I don't know."

"It's a yes or no answer, Y/N." You let him take a step towards you and you let his hand sit on the back of your neck. His thumb stroking the hairs at the nape and his eyes holding your gaze as you finally look up at him again. "I'll ask you again: do you love me?"

"No."

"Don't lie to me."

"Why shouldn't I lie to you?" You ask, tears rolling down your cheeks. The pain in your chest intensifies as you look him in his eyes. Like his smile, they were burned into your mind and they were the things you saw every time you closed your eyes. "If I say yes, you're only going to break my heart. You're always breaking my heart, this time shouldn't be any different."

He shakes his head. "I never want to break your heart, Y/N."

"Then let me go."

"But I can't do that either," he replies, bringing his thumb around to caress your cheek, wiping away your tears, "I don't want to let you go."

You pull away from him, pushing his hand away. "So I must have my heart broken just so you have someone who you can fuck?" It's not what he meant but you didn't know that. The tears dry up as you scoff at him. "Very mature and toxic of you."

"No-" He sighs, trying to reach for your hand but you pull it away. The rejection stings in his chest and hurts like a punch to a gut. "Listen to me," his hands cradle your face and even as you try to fight him off.

"No, you listen to me," you raise your voice above his, finally pushing him away, "I don't want to hear whatever lie you have to tell me. So..." You step to the side, giving him enough room to leave. "So, just leave."

"I-"

"Go!" You insist, now pointing to the door.

Christian decides not to fight it, even if everything in him is screaming at him to not leave, and leaves the bathroom, his shoulders slumped and one hand cradling his face. You waited, rooted to the spot, listening as he shuffles about your apartment to collect his things. Fresh tears burned your vision and loud sob finally escapes the second your front door is closing.

He was gone.

For now.

You crawled underneath your covers, too tired to change the sheets and finding a minimum of comfort in his scent that lingered on them. Reaching for your phone, you find a couple of messages from Reece.

Reece: Did it work?

Reece: I'm gonna take the silence as a yes 🤞

You don't bother to reply.

And just as you're about turn off your phone, your phone pings.

Christian: I love you.

~~~~~~~ | F O O T B A L L T A G L I S T | ~~~~~~~

Football taglist: @shanoontje @maseandkepa @theblxefox @blueathens @ofxinnocence @1-800-benji-chilwell @mrschilly @geek-and-proud @in-my-body-bag @laurasstufff1 @mountchilly @sereshawsbby @greykitkepa

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic smut #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic fluff

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pulisicsgirl · 1 year

Text

spaces between us - christian pulisic

summary: Y/N and Christian's relationships has been strained lately due to conflicting schedules and minimal effort to spend time with one another. Y/N's plan to talk to Christian about it goes awry and drives the couple further apart from each other.

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 5.3k

warnings/tags: angst and arguing (but it turns out okay in the end don't worry), Christian is a little bit of a dick, Y/N is a little bit overdramatic, but also sickening fluff, Christian is a lovesick twat, use of the phrase "whooping and hollering" (I'm sorry, I'm painfully American), hasty proofreading (because I’m posting this at 3 am and I have classes tomorrow morning), and like one suggestive comment

requested: yes!!!

notes: thank you so so much to @chelseagirl98 for sending this request in!! I had so much fun writing it, and I hope it lives up to your expectation! I tried a little something new with the text messages, so let me know what you think of that! Also, I think this is my first time writing a fight/make-up fic like this, so it might not be very good, but I welcome any constructive criticism! :)

As always, requests are still open! Send any ideas my way! 💙

You moved quickly around the kitchen, juggling bowls and ingredients as you did your best to prepare a homecooked meal to surprise Christian with when he got home from training. It wasn’t anything all that special, and you weren’t a five-star chef by any means, but you were trying your hardest—and that had to count for something, right?

For the last several weeks, you had sensed a distance forming between you and Christian. With his busy life as a footballer and your inconsistent work hours, it had been difficult to find time to see one another. On the rarer days that you were home together in the evening, you were both exhausted, quickly finding something to eat (often some takeout delivery that you ordered online) before setting things in order and going straight to bed. You couldn’t remember the last time you and Christian had just sat down to spend time together, sharing a conversation with any amount of substance.

After a particularly bitter morning where the two of you had moved around each other in the kitchen and bathroom without sharing a word or interacting almost at all, you had miraculously gotten out of work early. Deciding that enough was enough, you ran to the store to pick up some ingredients, resolving to cook a nice meal that you and Christian could sit down and eat together. You hoped it would give you a chance to catch up after the last few weeks of simply living in the same house but not truly being together.

It took you about an hour, but you completed the recipe successfully. As you turned off the burner on the stove and began dishing the food onto plates, you heard the jingle of Christian’s keys as he walked through the front door.

“Babe?” you called out. You listened for his footsteps as they rounded the corner into the kitchen. He was looking down as he came into your view, eyes locked on something on his phone screen. “Hey,” you addressed him uncertainly, wiping your forehead from the heat that had built up in the kitchen from the hour you had spent cooking. Your voice cause his head to snap up to look at you.

“Hey, babe,” he smiled, glancing back at his phone quickly before he turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He walked around the kitchen island and pulled you into his side, kissing the top of your head. “What’s all this?”

You couldn’t help but feel a little bit disappointed, hoping for a little more than a side-hug and a kiss on the head from your boyfriend after not seeing him all day. You tried to brush the feeling off.

“I made dinner!” you replied, a hopeful tone to your voice. You pulled from his side to grab his plate, handing it to him.

“Oh thank goodness,” he took a whiff of the food before walking to the other side of the kitchen island, sitting down in one of the tall chairs. He mumbled a quick, “thanks so much, babe,” before he began devouring the food swiftly.

Again, you tried to brush off the weird feeling that washed over you. You knew he must be hungry after a long day of training—they had even gone a bit late today. You tried to focus on the short expression of gratitude instead as you picked up your own plate, choosing to stand across from him, leaning on the countertop so you could face him while you ate.

The two of you remained there in silence, him scarfing down the food like it was his last meal while you just moved the food around the plate as you stared at it, still feeling uneasy.

You opened your mouth to ask about how training had gone that day, hoping to spark a conversation between the two of you, but movement from the other side of the counter caught you off-guard before you could speak. Having cleaned his plate already, Christian stood from his chair, stepping around it before he pushed it in. He moved to the sink, dropping the empty plate in. He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

“It was really good, babe. Thank you.” He walked behind you, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “I’m gonna head up to shower.” He stepped to walk out of the kitchen and down the hallway.

“Are you serious, Christian?” You felt the anger finally spilling over in your chest, the heat rising up your neck an into your face. You were beyond frustrated that all of the effort you had gone to had lasted in a five-minute shared silence before he rushed upstairs to shower and go to bed.

Christian turned back around to face you, eyes wide with confusion. You could see him obliviously wracking his brain for what he had done wrong.

“I’m sorry, I can wash my plate,” he spoke quickly as he took two steps back toward the sink before you stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“It’s not about the stupid plate, Christian.” You rolled your eyes at him, and he took a step back from you, surprised by the anger you were displaying. “I went to all this trouble to go get the ingredients and spent all this time to make a home-cooked meal, and all I get is five minutes and ‘it was good, thank you’?”

Christian’s eyes were still wide, taken aback by your reaction. “I’m sorry, it was a really long day. I’m just pretty tired.” The way he said the words made them seem like more of a question.

“You’re always ‘tired’, Christian!” You put air quotes around the word, feeling yourself get more and more worked up about the situation. You felt like now that you were finally voicing your frustrations, all of the emotions were starting to spill over. “You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks! We never see each other anymore, and I’m sick of living in the same house as my boyfriend, but never seeing him!” You began raising your voice without meaning to and you felt your eyes burning with tears. You mentally cursed yourself for crying so easily when you were angry.

“Y/N, I-“

Sensing another excuse coming on, you cut him off. “You didn’t even kiss me goodbye this morning!”

Interrupting Christian and not allowing him to explain himself was a sure way to irritate him, and it immediately put him on the defensive.

“Well, you didn’t kiss me before I left either!” He knew it was a weak defense, but in his frustration, it was the only thing he could come up with. “I’m not the only one in this relationship, Y/N! You could afford to put in a little effort once in a while, instead of just pointing fingers.”

Your mouth fell open in shock at his words, and Christian instantly wished he could take them back, not having meant them at all. “You are unbelievable, Christian. Unbelievable.” You scowled, pushing past him to walk out of the kitchen.

He grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking away, and you shook your head, pulling your arm from his grasp. “No, stop. Come talk to me when you’re ready to act like a half-decent boyfriend.”

You stormed down the hallway to your shared bedroom, slamming the door to the bathroom closed and locking it in case Christian tried to follow you and take back what he had said. Moments later, you heard the doorknob jiggle softly, confirming your prediction.

You felt the tears rolling down your cheeks as you glumly went through your nighttime routine, brushing your teeth, combing out your hair, and washing your face. You tried to ignore your red and swollen eyes from crying as you looked in the mirror.

Once you had finished, you unlocked the door and walked into the bedroom. You did your best to ignore Christian sitting silently on the side of the bed as you walked over to the closet and changed quickly into your pajamas from the night before, scoffing quietly as you realized that it just entailed one of his bigger T-shirts. Nonetheless, you slipped it over your head and flipped the closet light off, closing the door behind you as you exited.

Without a word, you walked to your side of the bed, pulling the sheets and comforter back, crawling in, and covering yourself up, facing away from Christian.

His heart had broken at the sight of your tear-streaked face before you had climbed into the bed. He knew that it was probably best to give you some space for now, so he stood to collect his things and go take his shower. You didn’t miss the soft sigh that left his lips before he stood.

You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, then the rush of water as he turned the shower on.

You finally allowed yourself to let go, crying out all of the hurt that had built up over the last several weeks. You felt the pain physically in your heart, a hollow feeling in your chest—you were a part of a whole, missing your other half.

It didn’t take long for Christian to finish his shower, and you heard the water turn off. You tried to calm yourself before he left the bathroom, not wanting him to see you in such a weak state after your fight.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and Christian moving around the room. You did your best to silence your sniffles, but he still heard them, and he felt the painful cracks in his heart tearing open a little further.

You felt the mattress dip behind you as his weight settled into the bed. His arm appeared in front of your body for a moment and you felt him leaning over you to place a soft kiss on your temple.

“Goodnight,” he whispered softly. “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you mumbled. As petty as you wanted to be, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t say it back to him.

His weight settled into the bed behind you, not daring to pull you into his arms. The light in the room disappeared with the click of the lamp turning off, and the two of you lay there in silence.

A thousand thoughts were running through both of your heads, but you remained on your side with your back turned to him. You wrapped your arms around your torso, attempting to hold yourself for some sort of comfort against the foreign feeling of falling asleep without being tucked into Christian’s side.

*****

Since it was the weekend, the sun was already peeking through the curtains when you awoke. By instinct, you rolled over, reaching toward the other side of the bed, but your hand only landed on the cold, empty sheets. You snapped your eyes open, finding no sign of Christian’s presence, and the memories of your argument from the night before flooded your mind.

You let out a long, frustrated groan, pressing your face further into the pillow. The uneasy feeling that you always had when you and Christian fought settled in your chest, and you spend a few moments staring at the wall, allowing yourself to give in to the self-pity for a moment before getting up to face the difficult situation.

A buzzing sound coming from your bedside table pulled you from your thoughts, and you rolled back over, lazily grabbing your phone from where it was charging. As the screen lit up, you saw that you had a text from Mason.

You dropped your head back on the pillow for a moment with a sigh. Fighting like this wasn’t doing either of you any good—you both knew it, but this was the main problem you two seemed to face. You didn’t fight often, but when you did, you both struggled to get over your own pride and make it up to each other.

You sent the message and threw the sheets off of your legs, deciding to make yourself a cup of coffee and try to wake up. The tiles of the kitchen floor were cold on your bare feet as you walked across them.

You placed your mug under the coffee maker and started it, leaning against the counter. The cold marble touched your back through the thin material of your—well, Christian’s—shirt and the feeling sent a shiver through your body. You tucked your arms around your stomach, trying to find some sense of warmth and comfort in the otherwise bitter morning.

As your thoughts wandered, you found yourself missing the mornings that you and Christian had previously shared in this very kitchen. Lately, you had barely interacted as you moved around each other, making your coffee and packing lunches, barely mumbling a few words to one another. But before all of that, when you had first moved in together, you couldn't get enough of each other in the mornings. You would always find yourself in his arms, standing between his legs as he leaned against the counter. His large hands would run up and down your sides, sometimes finding their way under his shirt that you wore to stroke the bare skin of your back gently. You would nuzzle your face into his neck, inhaling his scent while he pressed a kiss into your hair. The only audible noise was the coffee maker and the steady drip of coffee into the mug as the two of you waited for it to finish brewing. It was the perfect start to every day, and frequently you found yourself getting out of bed earlier than you needed to just so you would have more time to waste, wrapped in Christian’s arms. Even on your days off, when he would still have training, you would get up with him so you could share those brief moments together before he left for the day and you crawled back into bed.

You snapped back to reality, shaking your head to rid it of the daydream you had nearly gotten lost in. The lights seemed to be more dull now that you were left standing in the kitchen on your own, no lover to hold you close and share his warmth.

You rubbed your hands over your arms, attempting to rid them of the goosebumps that has risen up. Your phone lit up with another notification.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion for a moment. It was then that you remembered—Chelsea had a game today. You sighed, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration with yourself—the game had completely slipped your mind.

Clearly, you weren’t completely innocent in the fact that you and Christian hadn’t been spending time together recently.

You grabbed the finished cup of coffee, pouring a bit of creamer in it before you hurried back up to your bedroom to get changed.

You turned the phone’s screen off, tossing it onto your bathroom counter before turning on your shower and stepping in. You tried to move as quickly as possible, hoping to make it to the stadium and set things right before the game began. You knew that Christian didn’t play as well when he was upset, and the last thing you wanted was to be the reason Chelsea’s golden American had a poor performance.

Plus, you selfishly just wanted to be rid of the empty feeling that came with any separation between you and Christian.

When you stepped out of the shower and onto the soft mat, having completely rinsed off, the room was stuffy and the steam had fogged up the mirror. When you checked your phone again, Mason had texted you several minutes before, right after you had jumped in the shower.

You finished getting ready in record time, running out of the front door with your hair still slightly damp, and you prayed that no one noticed how hastily your makeup had been done. You tapped your fingers nervously on the steering wheel as you drove toward Stamford Bridge, the minutes creeping closer and closer to the time for kickoff as you sat in the London traffic.

When you finally arrived, you rushed to the private entrance, sending Mason a short text as you walked to let him know that you had arrived. The face that greeted you was not Mason’s, but one of the security staff that you recognized from your many trips to the Bridge over the last couple of years. He greeted you with a warm smile, explaining that Mason had sent him to fetch you since they were already beginning to leave the changing room and line up for the tunnel walk when he had gotten your text.

The security guard led you through the winding halls of the stadium and up to the box where the family and friends of the team would sit together. You found your way into an empty seat next to Sophia, Kai’s girlfriend, and she greeted you with a warm welcome and a quick embrace.

When you turned your eyes to the pitch, your heart sank as you realized the players were already standing on the field, in position and awaiting the starting whistle. You realized you would have no chance to try to wave to Christian to get his attention before the game started. Unless Mason had told him, he likely didn’t have a clue you were even in the stadium.

You were, however, thankful to see that Christian had still made the starting lineup, despite his run-in with Potter earlier in the morning. But as the whistle sounded out and the boys began moving around the pitch, it quickly became clear that he wasn’t playing up to his usual standard. He seemed to be two steps behind on every play, making sloppy touches that would give possession to the defender. He was in his own head, and it was affecting every move he made on the field.

Sophia and you didn’t talk much through the first half. She knew how intensely you typically watched the matches, but she noticed how quiet you were compared to the lively and rambunctious cheering you usually brought on game day.

When the whistle blew to signal the end of the half, Chelsea was trailing, 1-0. With Christian on the front line unable to focus enough to make a proper play, the entire offense struggled to create opportunities, and the whole team seemed to be lagging.

You watched as Christian walked sullenly toward the tunnel, head hung low. You knew he was frustrated with himself for his performance so far in the game, and you resented the part you had to play in that.

Sophia, noticing the solemn way you looked at your boyfriend, knew that something was off. She draped her arm over the back of your seat, asking you about your somber mood as soon as your attention had shifted away from Christian since he had disappeared down the tunnel. You sighed and began recounting the former night’s event to her in a quiet voice, hoping none of the other family members in the box were listening in. You told her about how Christian had come home, barely eating the dinner you had prepared before trying to leave the kitchen. You told her about the foolish words you had both let fly out of frustration, stupid accusations that neither of you meant. You told her how you were afraid that you and Christian had lost your “spark,” that feeling of never wanting to let the other go that every couple felt when they first got together. You told her that you were afraid that you didn’t know how to get it back.

You hadn’t even realized you were crying until a teardrop splashed on your hand. You used your fingers to wipe carefully under your eyes, trying not to smear the makeup you had hastily put on only a couple of hours before.

Sophia opened her mouth to address your concerns when something caught her eye over your shoulder. You turned to see that the boys were walking out of the tunnel, and you waited impatiently to try to catch a glimpse of Christian.

When he finally emerged, Mason’s arm was slung over his shoulders, holding him close as Mason seemed to be trying to give him words of encouragement. His head was still hung low. Mason squeezed his arm around Christian, turning him to face the stands once they were standing on the pitch, and pointed in your direction. A frown creased his eyebrows as his eyes followed where Mason’s finger was pointing.

When his eyes landed on you, his face softened immediately, the frown vanishing from his expression. His eyes grew big, his arms falling to his sides as he took you in, wearing the blue jersey that he knew bore his name across the shoulders. Mason ruffled his hair with a grin, walking away to let him have his moment, but Christian didn’t pay him any mind, only focused on you.

You raised your hand, giving Christian a shy wave. The faintest of smiles curled his lips, tainted with a hint of sadness. He brought his fingers to his lips, blowing you a short kiss before he moved further onto the pitch. He walked backward for a few steps, still looking at you before he turned and jogged to his starting position for the second half.

Sophia drew the arm that had been draped over the back of your chair back to her side, nudging you gently. She had a grin on her face when you looked over. “Yeah, that spark is still there. Don’t worry,” she reassured. You covered your face with your hand, trying to hide the blush that you knew was covering your cheeks. “You’ve just hit a rough patch. It happens to every couple, especially after you’ve been living together for a while.”

“Really?” you asked hopefully.

“Really,” she smiled. “It happened with Kai and I, too. A few months after he transferred to Chelsea and we moved to London, there was about a month where we barely ever saw each other. It took a screaming match and then us both crying on the floor of the kitchen with a bottle of wine for us to get past it.” The two of you laughed at the story, and you wiped another tear from your face. “But we were stronger after we got through it. And you and Christian will be too, I know it.”

She took your hand in hers and squeezed in an effort to comfort you. “Just remember to be intentional about spending time together. Life will get crazy from time to time, but if you keep pursuing each other, you’ll be okay.”

“Thank you, Sophia,” you smiled genuinely at her. “You really give the best advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She pulled you into a side hug, over the arm of the stadium seats. As you pulled away from each other, the sound of the whistle rang through the air, and the second half was under way. You took in a big breath, letting it out slowly and praying silently that this 45’ would go better than the first had.

In a matter of minutes, it was clear that Christian was a completely different player than he had been in the first half. He was positioning himself well to make runs, taking much more controlled and calculated touches, and beating his opponents to the ball. Chelsea had made several great plays, pressing up the field and creating several breaks that resulted in near-goals. The whole stadium seemed to be holding its breath, hoping that it was only a matter of time before one of the presses ended with the ball in the net.

It finally happened in the 54th minute. With renewed fervor, the back line moved the ball around the defensive half before Thiago played the ball up the field toward the left wing. Christian broke through the opposing defense, carrying the ball up the line with players right on his heels. With quick feet, he came up to the side of the penalty box, crossing the ball toward the center.

A hush fell over the crowd as the ball floated through the air, toward a mess of players from both teams in the box. You and Sophia leaped to your feet, along with the rest of the audience, watching as the ball landed at Kai’s feet. With a quick touch to settle it, he shot the ball through the maze of defenders into the top corner of the goal. The keeper’s fingers just missed the ball, and the entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheering as the net shook with the ball’s impact.

Kai ran towards the sideline, embracing Christian in celebration, much the same way that you and Sophia clung to one another, jumping up and down as you yelled and cheered.

As the game resumed, Chelsea seemed to have hit their second wind, the game-tying goal driving them in their desire to get another. Several chances were created in the following minutes, the crowd letting out groans at the barely-missed shots that held the potential to propel Chelsea into the lead.

You were starting to get nervous as the game approached it’s last 10 minutes, not wanting the game to end in a draw after Chelsea’s incredible turn-around. You anxiously bit at the skin around your fingernails as you watched.

In the 86th minute, as fans from both sides were beginning to get restless, Reece played a quick ball through the line, Christian sprinting to catch up with it as he broke through the defense and drove quickly down the field. It was a one-on-one between him and the keeper now. He approached the penalty box swiftly as the keeper came out to meet him, trying to force a mistake. But Christian kept his head about him, taking a calculated touch to curve the ball around to the right of the keeper as he dropped to the ground in an attempt to block the shot.

The ball bounced off of the goalpost and across the line. Once again, the fans erupted in a chorus of applause and shouting. Christian sprinted back up the field, coming to stand at the sideline in front of where he knew you were sitting. The rest of the Chelsea boys ran up behind him, embracing him or ruffling his hair in congratulations. Ignoring all of the chaos around him as his teammates whooped and hollered, Christian locked eyes with you, tapping his hand over his heart.

You raised your fist to your lips, pinky pointed up as you kissed your hand. Christian mimicked your action. It was a silly thing the two of you did that had started back when you were still only friends and continued throughout your relationship. You would link your fingers together in a pinky promise, kissing your hands, as a reminder of the promise you made to always be there for each other.

The boys pulled Christian away from the sideline, still thumping him on the back as they yelled in celebration.

The last minutes of the game passed quickly, and Chelsea fans voiced their approval as the final whistle blew, signaling the game’s end in a 2-1 victory for the Blues. The players and staff for both teams made their way onto the pitch, shaking hands cordially, offering words of congratulations to one another, and embracing their own players. You and Sophia moved down toward the barrier that separated the seats from the field, waiting where the boys would usually come to greet their loved ones.

It didn’t take long for Kai to come running over, leaning up to bring Sophia into a sweet kiss. They smiled at each other, sharing quiet words as she congratulated him on his goal. You saw nothing but adoration in their eyes as they looked at one another, and the sight warmed your heart.

Kai looked over to you after a few moments. “Your lover boy will be over here any minute,” he laughed. “As soon as he can get all the guys to stop hounding him for his game-winning goal.” You giggled at his words, eyes still searching through the mass of people for him.

Christian finally emerged, pushing through the crowd in your direction. As soon as he set his eyes on you, he ran the last few yards, arms outstretched to pull you into an embrace. Not caring about the layer of sweat that covered his body, you leaned over the short barrier, wrapping your arms around his neck as your bodies finally met.

Unsatisfied with the space left between you, Christian carefully pulled you over the barrier separating the two of you. You squealed in surprise before he set you on the ground in front of him, still holding your body firmly, refusing to let go of you for fear that you could slip away.

His face was buried in your neck and you brushed your fingers over his damp skin to soothe him. His arms still kept a firm hold on your waist when he pulled back to look at you. His eyes were moist with tears when as he gazed down at you.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was being stupid, and I never should have—”

“Shhh,” you cut him off, cupping his jaw with your hand. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone as his eyes darted around your face, searching for any reassurance that the two of you were okay after the fight. “I know, Christian. It’s okay.” You saw the relief washing over Christian’s body as he pulled you into a gentle kiss, pressing his lips firmly to yours as he tried to communicate all of the things he was feeling.

“We can talk about everything when we get home, okay?” you asked softly, and he nodded, smiling down at you. “Right now, I just want to tell you how proud I am of you.”

The pink blush immediately painted his cheeks as he grinned sheepishly and hid his face in your shoulder. You giggled at his actions, knowing that he never took compliments well, yet you refused to stop telling him how highly you thought of him. You held the back of his head and felt him place a couple kisses to your shoulder before he stood up to look at your face again.

“I’m sorry I got you all sweaty,” he pulled the long-sleeved compression shirt over his hand, using it to wipe your neck off as you both laughed together.

“It’s fine,” you smiled at him. “You’ll just have to help me wash it off in the shower later.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by your suggestive comment as a grin spread across his face.

The two of you waved to Kai and Sophia as Christian took your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as you walked away from them.

He brought your intertwined hands up to his face, kissing the back of yours as you made your way toward the tunnel so you could leave the stadium.

#christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fics #footballer fic #footballer fics #football imagine #footballer imagines #footballer imagine #christian pulisic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic blurb

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notsoattractivearenti · 8 months

Text

Goodbye, Summer (Christian Pulisic x Reader)

Song Inspo: Summer Love - One Direction (listening to the song while reading is highly recommended!)

WC: 2.7K

Warnings: cursing, angst

A/N: after a few months i finally finished this fic!!! this is my first christian angst it felt kinda strange to write one for him lol and just so y'all know i haven't been able to write angst with a happy ending so, be aware. and the start of the ‘summer love’ is a lot different than usual hopefully not too weird for your liking tho. also this wasn't proofread, sorry if this turns out to be shit. anw hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍

–

“Cause you were mine for the summer

Now we know it's nearly over

Feels like snow in September

But I always will remember”

—

Summer has come to an end. Well, technically summer hasn’t ended yet – but Christian had to move to Italy and this move wasn’t exactly planned but quite expected – so yeah, to me, summer is about to end. And the moment Christian hops on the plane, there goes my summer of love. It was fun while it lasted – though I wish it would never end.

Christian told me he was leaving just a few days prior. He had been back to the States two days after the end of the Premier League season and ever since we had been spending the summer together. I knew this was coming as we agreed we would only be together for the summer but I didn’t think it would be this hard.

—

I met him through a mutual friend last year when he was briefly in Florida to visit his family and friends for Christmas. I still had a boyfriend at the time – even though my relationship ended the very next day, it was already broken to begin with – so we became strictly friends and I had no intentions on dating him. Jokes on me, because I had caught feelings for him but I was so wounded by the heartbreak I wasn’t even aware of it. He did catch feelings too, though he thought I needed time to process the breakup so confessing his feelings wouldn’t be appropriate.

I didn’t want a serious relationship for a while – or so I thought – therefore I didn’t even think of dating since my last one. Christian and I would sometimes text each other, but it wasn’t a constant thing. We hadn’t really seen each other in person since because of the distance, but I watched every match he played and usually texted him to give my support before the match.

One night within the second week of May, he told me by text that he was going back to Florida for summer break and looking forward to spending the rest of the summer with me. I thought to myself: why would he spend his short break with me? I responded to him by asking why just me and not his friends and family, hoping he would say something funny and odd like he always does and instead he said something I didn’t see coming.

“Because I like you and I want to be with you.”

My heart stopped the second I saw that text. Christian… Likes me? My goodness, what an oblivious idiot I had been. I was deeply wounded by my past I didn’t see what was going on in front of me the whole time. I didn’t know what else to say and I accidentally left his text on read that night.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I’ve freaked you out haven’t I? Fuck I’m sorry!!!”

Oh shit. I woke up to those unread messages from Christian – I just remembered I hadn’t texted him back last night. I immediately tried to reply but as my thumbs touched the screen to type, no words came to mind. I honestly didn’t know how to react, if I tell him I’m not looking for a relationship would it hurt him?

“I…”

“Christian…”

“If you want a relationship, I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…”

I locked my phone screen right after I sent those messages. I hoped I wasn’t being too harsh to him, but being put in this position was so overwhelming and I didn’t know what else to say. I just… I wasn’t ready. And I couldn’t tell when I would be. Not to mention he lives thousands of miles away from me and I didn’t think I could handle the distance.

An hour later, I finally heard back from Christian.

“I get it and I respect that.”

“What if we just… Be together for the summer?”

“We don’t have to think about what’s gonna happen after. Just be in the moment… You and me.”

I gave that idea of his a thought – a not-so-long thought because I was assuming I didn’t have enough time. I’d admit, while I found it interesting, I couldn’t help but wonder: would it be worth it? Would someone get hurt at the end?

Before the day ended, I finally made up my mind.

“Okay. I’m in…”

“But just for the summer.”

“And only if nobody is gonna get hurt.”

—

When he arrived, I was the one who picked him up at the airport. We absolutely spent our summer together everyday – there wasn’t a day that went by without him by my side and vice versa. He invited me to spend some time with his family and friends on their boats, and I had him spending time with mine on either the beach or my family’s home.

We were well aware we only had each other for the summer, thus we made sure every moment counts no matter how little or big it might be. We knew once this summer ends it also marks the end of our time together and go back to live our own separate lives. I didn’t want to think about what will happen next – I just want to live in the moment.

The more I spend my time with him, the stronger my feelings grow. It’s been messing up my mind, but I couldn’t let it ruin my summer. This was the best summer I’ve ever had in a long time, and I would not take it for granted. The memories we were creating throughout will forever live on in my head.

—

In the middle of our “summer of love”, Christian came to an agreement with AC Milan, and by that his time in Chelsea had come to an end and he had to relocate to Italy. And the club wanted him to join them for preseason, meaning his summer break had to be cut off sooner than he planned.

When he broke the news, I was stunned – not that I wasn’t happy about his move to Milan, I just needed time to process it. I also wasn’t ready for our summer to be over, but the circumstances forced us to cut our time short. It was pretty saddening for us that we unfortunately had to burst our little bubble.

“So… That’s it for us then?” I carefully asked.

“Let’s just not talk about it.” He refused.

I didn’t want to cause a fight at the time, so I agreed to let it go.

The entire time, I felt like I had to walk on eggshells around him. But eventually I couldn’t do that forever. You can't escape the reality no matter how much you want to.

—

Christian was packing his bags as he had a flight to catch the next morning. Yes, I couldn’t emphasize enough that we know our whatever-you-called-ship is coming to an end. In every hello there is a goodbye, right? But why does this feel so hard?

We have tried really hard not to mention anything about the fact that our summer love will be over soon but it is an inevitable topic. There is no way we can escape the conversation, especially on our very last day together. And I have to be the one to bring this up because Christian clearly didn’t want to – he might be the one who suggested the idea, but he is the one who is more in denial.

“Chris, you know we both have to say something, don’t you?” I tried to start the conversation.

“Can we not? Please.” He whimpered.

“We have to.” I insisted.

He kept packing in silence, not wanting to talk about the painful reality. I was sitting on the corner of his bed while he was standing across from me, avoiding eye contact since I started talking. He was looking down all the time – organizing his belongings – and not once he took even a little glance at me. I looked closely at his face, paying attention to every little detail I could. His face was red, eyes were puffy and watery, lips were tight – it was obvious to me he was trying so hard not to cry.

“So are you just going to freeze me out the entire time or?” Still no answer from him.

I went and sat a lot closer to him and he tried to look away.

“Stop it, please! At least just look at my fucking eyes if you don’t want to fucking speak!”

And suddenly I saw tears running down on his face. He couldn’t hold them back anymore – his heart was completely shattered and it was obvious he was nowhere near ready to face the harsh reality.

“Chris… Listen…”

“Why can’t you change your mind?”

He asked a question that got me startled.

“What is it about me and the time that we had that made you certain you still don’t want a relationship?” His voice was trembling.

It took me a while to even say one fucking word to him. I felt like the worst person on earth for breaking the sweetest man’s heart. And to be honest, I broke my own heart too – and I was really trying my hardest to conceal it from him.

“Chris, you were the one who said, and I quote, “just be together for the summer”! I was being so clear I didn’t want a relationship yet you still offered me that. There’s nothing wrong with you, it’s just… I’m not ready. And I don’t know when I will be again.” I desperately tried to explain myself to him but I seemed to upset him even more.

“Yeah, right.” He shook his head and smacked his lips. “Whatever you say.”

I sighed.

“Chris… Please, why won’t you believe me?” I asked him quietly.

“I don’t buy your bullshit anymore.” He replied coldly, while wiping his tears.

Now done packing, he grabbed the car keys and put most of his belongings in the trunk.

I still wanted to have more conversation – about us, specifically – but after he was done with his stuff, he refused.

“I’m tired and I have an early flight to catch tomorrow. I think I should just go to sleep right now.” He said as he walked into his room.

“Yeah, of course...” I responded.

I tried to softly grab his hand but he swung his arm further away from me.

“See you tomorrow, Chris. Goo-”

He slammed the door on my face before I got to tell him goodnight. At the moment, I thought to myself: oh no, he really hates me.

—

The next morning I drove Christian to the airport. He was going to Milan with his dad and he was meeting him at the airport. On the way there, we didn’t really talk much. There was so much silence – and somehow it made everything even more painful.

I couldn’t handle the tension any longer, so I tried to break the ice.

“Hey, thank you for spending the summer with me. It was the best I’ve ever had.”

He only nodded.

“Umm, I’m sorry this only lasted for a short while...”

He looked down, he sniffed and rubbed his nose and sighed.

“Well, have fun in Milan! You needed a fresh start and you’re about to get one… Christian, I am proud of you.”

I tried to be supportive and not say anything that could be perceived as “something wrong” because I knew he was in a fragile state at the moment, though it seemed like he wasn’t going to respond the way I hoped he would. I was genuinely proud of him by the way – always have and always will.

He looked up but still avoiding eye contact, let out a slight smile and chuckled a little bit.

“Yeah, thanks.”

“And uh… Maybe you’d forget about me with all the girls you’re going to meet there...”

I immediately regretted what I just said. Shit. What the fuck did I just say?

He finally looked directly into my eyes – a look full of disbelief and disappointment. There was a moment of silence between us. This time, I was the one who couldn’t see him in the eyes.

“Chris, I’m so, so sorry I didn’t m-”

“How could you say that, Y/N?” He cut me off before I finished talking, by the tone of his voice I could tell he was mad at me.

I froze for a minute. I knew I had fucked up but I never thought it would be so much worse – at the moment I was really, really fucking shit up.

“Do you think my feelings for you aren't real enough so other girls can easily make it go away? Do you really think I can forget you just like that? Are you implying that what we had all summer will not stick in your memories?”

“Wha- no, Chris, that’s not what I mean!”

What a mess I had made... And before I knew it, tears started to fill my eyes.

“Well to me it sounded like that. I’m appalled to know you don’t see whatever we were as something real and meaningful. Maybe it was a mistake to even ask you to give us a chance in the first place.” He sounded like he was truly aching and filled with regrets.

I glanced at him for a bit and I saw him biting his lip and his face was already all red. I never wanted our goodbye to be this heartbreaking but well… In this situation it’s bound to happen, isn’t it? Because I didn’t want to escalate our situation any further, I decided to shut my mouth and stop talking altogether. I was aware that whatever I said might hurt him deeper. Fuck, why can’t things be easier?

—

After what felt like a very long ride, we finally got to the airport. We met Christian’s dad, Mark, at the front gate as I helped Christian with his belongings. Mark greeted me and gave me a hug.

“Hey, Y/N! Thanks for dropping Christian off, if only you could come with us to Italy!” Mark excitedly thanked me, not knowing what happened between Christian and I.

I shook my head and slightly laughed to cover my discomfort. Then I saw Christian looking at his watch, and whispered to his dad: “let’s go.”

I took it as my cue to leave, so I said my farewell to both of them.

“Well, have a safe flight, Mr. Pulisic.” I smiled and nodded at Mark.

Then I turned to Christian. He was still visibly upset – I didn’t have the heart to say anything, really. I had caused him a lot of pain, and I was afraid to open my mouth. But at the moment I knew I had to, since I didn’t know if we would ever see each other again.

“You too, Chris. Good luck over there.” I softly tapped his arm.

I waved at them and was ready to walk away when I felt a hand touch my shoulder. I turned around and it was Christian. He pulled me in for a hug – a very, very tight hug, like he wouldn’t let me go. He rested his head on my shoulder and I rubbed his back the whole time. It was a long hug – probably the longest ever for both of us – and we could no longer keep our overflowing emotions inside anymore.

“I’m sorry…” I whimpered.

“I know.” He whispered.

He stroked my head and kissed me in the forehead. His lips stayed there for a while.

“Y/N, I have to go...”

It was the hardest thing to do but I pulled away from the hug. Before he went inside, he took my hands and looked me in the eyes.

“Y/N, you will always be my greatest summer love… I will never forget you.” He said under his breath.

And the moment he walked through the gate, that was the last time I saw him in person. What we had might be short, but I will forever be thankful Christian made my summer unforgettable.

—

“You were my summer love

You always will be my summer love”

–

taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @swimmingismywholelife @chilwellspulisic @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @masonsrem @landoslover

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic imagines #christian pulisic angst #footballer fic #footballer fanfic #footballer imagines #footballer angst

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augustinescruelsummer · 9 months

Text

SPILT | CP10

IN WHICH Christian has to learn how to properly communicate and control his insecurities, or else he risks losing his favorite girl.

Christian Pulisic x F!Reader (She/Her)

WC: 3.6k (got carried away. sometimes I like writing.)

GENRE: angst -> fluff (my fav genre)

INCLUDES: jealousy (christian), odd dude, christian struggles to communicate his feelings, happy ending, reader puts christian in his place, healthy resolution of an argument, curse words

CLINK. The glass goes flying to the ground before her hand can reach out to grab it, the pieces splintering onto the hardwood floor. A gasp comes from the bartender at the mess. Her smile fades quickly, staring blankly down at the hazardous shards under her feet. She swallows nervously at the sharp cut edges enveloping her.

“I am so sorry,” the apologies begin flowing out of her mouth as the ongoing patrons turn their heads curiously at the commotion. Her head begins to go dizzy at all the attention. The spilt drink’s owner, a slim-built boy with a polo shirt and khakis, looks at her unaffected by the debacle.

“It’s seriously not a problem,” he says, his squeaky voice greasing her axnieties into a higher gear. She hops off her chair, crouching down to attempt to grab the pieces into her hand, refusing to get caught in a trap by a trust fund baby. The sliver of flirtation in his tone was causing her hot temper to flare alongside the boiling anxiety.

“Hey, hey!” The boy says pointedly, “Don’t do that. You’ll cut your hand open, we can’t have that.” He places a greasy hand onto her shoulder, the action causing her shoulder’s to jolt forward at the unwelcome touch. Her mind was racing over the spilt glass, her anxiety doing its best to remain present. Her mind was swimming of outlandish theories. Was the bartender going to banish her permanently? Would Chris be mortified if he saw the mess she made at his favorite celebration spot?

She had gotten here early to surprise him, after he informed her the team was going out to his favorite bar to celebrate his game-winning goal in overtime. She had watched from home, her heart beating like a drum as he the ball soared into the net at the last second, the camera catching a joyous Christian, the sight her favorite thing in the whole world. Greasy-hand waves his hands around frantically to call a busser over to aid with the cleanup, suddenly deciding to be concerned with the glass splitting open her fingers. She rolls her eyes at the action, he had spent the last three minutes ogling her form crouched over said glass. Probably a good thing it's on the ground now. Karma?

The female bartender manages to calm her down, informing her she would not, in fact, be removed from the bar for a simple accident. One that truly was not her fault. “He should have known better than to sneak up on you like a creep,” the bartender had added when she explained how it happened.

Greasy-Hand had decided to stop ogling and make his way over to her, placing his glass down in front of her by reaching over unexpectedly, without the slightest introduction. The random touch (sound familiar with this dude?) had caused her to send the glass flying onto the ground. She watched nervously as the kind woman swept the glass pieces up, sending warm smiles and reassurances as she huddled by the crime scene. Her nails were bitten down to the cuticle from the anxiety of the situation. She had completely zoned out in her own world, meaning she was unaware to the greasy hand lurking on her shoulder. The hand sent incredibly (un)welcoming feelings down her back, causing shivers to go down her spine at the circles being drawn, snapping her out of her trance. She removed the hand with a frown, looking into Greasy-Hand’s eyes. The notion made her miss Christian dearly, hoping he would walk into the door at any minute and put her frantic worrying to rest.

Christian was yet to show up, and she sat at the bar with a downturned frown staring into the abyss of her whiskey glass. She unlocked her phone once again as Greasy-Hand jabbered on, searching for a sign from Christian. No texts, no calls.

“Excuse me,” she told Greasy-Hand without looking up from her phone, sliding off her barstool and into the bathroom. Her eyes were glued to her phone as she made her way into the women's restroom at the end of the hall. She didn’t even care if he was still in the middle of a sentence, the overwhelming fear that Christian had curved her was overwhelming. Was he leaving her? Her last message sat there, read.

From: Chris<3

The team is going to The Hook soon. Potentially see you within the hour?

To: Chris<3

Kk! See you soon!

Her message sat there delivered from two hours ago, the receipts showing he had read it thirty minutes following send. She locked her phone and fixed her hair in the mirror, hoping she didn’t look as anxious as she felt. Busying her hands with retucking her Pulisic jersey into her bra, she thought about her game plan. She was going to march out of this bathroom, turn Greasy-Hand down, and take her ass home to cry at Christian’s inability to properly communicate. Right. Sounds like a plan.

She swung the door open with a newfound confidence, finding Greasy-Hand still lurking by the bar. He was beginning to start rambling again, but she held a hand up, not allowing him to continue.

“Look, I appreciate you looking after me when the glass shattered, but I’ve been stood up by my own boyfriend. I appreciate your rambling company while it lasted.”

What the fuck was that, she thought, that was so unsmooth.

Greasy-Hand, once again, placed that chilling hand on her shoulder and began another ramble about how happy he was to be able to fill Christian’s shoes. Which was not at all what she had just told him. Clearly he had missed the point.

“New couple alert?” A rich voice asks loudly as he approached the bar, irises darkened, locked in onto the greasy hand stealing the soul out of the circulation in her shoulder. Her stomach dropped at the sight of Christian, in his trousers and Team USA t-shirt pressed perfectly to him, an angry expression plastered on his beautiful face. She tried to communicate with her eyes, signaling nonverbally to the hand on her shoulder. Christian, in his immature fit, completely ignores the signs and continues to comment, his notorious green streak coming out mercilessly.

“I wish,” Greasy-Hand says to Christian, not realizing his importance in her life. She grimaces internally at his comment, hoping the bar floor would open up and swallow her whole. She would never have to face this level of embarrassment ever again. Christian sends him a tight lipped smile, leaning against the bar casually. “She’s quite the flirt, isn’t she?” He says to Greasy-Hand cooly, looking straight through her. The dropped stomach bottoms out, her blood turning cold at his insinuation. He slides his card across the hardwood to the awaiting bartender. She attempts to push his hand off her shoulder harshly, expression fading as he clamps it back down.

Christian, observing the struggle sharply, suddenly kicks back into a conscious state of mind, not consumed by his childish fit of jealous rage. “Let her go,” he barks angrily at the knockoff frat boy. He pockets his wallet before crossing over to the pair with two strides. Greasy-Boy grins wickedly, “I thought you were encouraging me to have a turn, though?” He spits mockingly at Christian, tightening the arm and pulling her into his sweaty body. Her face contorts with uncomfortable panic, Christian recognizing the signs of an upcoming panic attack. “I’ll split your fucking skull if that hand isn’t removed in five seconds,” he says calmly, grabbing his drink from the bartender without letting up eye contact. Greasy-Hand’s face pales, suddenly clicking the name on the back of her jersey and the man in front of him’s connection together. “That’s what I thought,” he smiles mockingly as the scared-shitless boy busies himself to the other corner of the bar.

Christian opens his mouth to being apologizing for his behavior, watching as she stares up at him with a blank expression, riddled with anxiety behind it. She doesn’t give him the chance, shoving off the hand encased over hers. “No boyfriend of mine will ever disrespect me like that!” She tells him, staring him daggers as her heel spins and marches towards the bar entrance. The cold air hits her the moment she steps outside, ignoring the calls of Christian after her. She manages to lose him during the short trip to their temporary flat, only a half mile away. She angrily twists the key into the lock, flinging it open. She knows Christian is not far behind her, because he never lets her walk home by herself at night, no matter how angry he is. She throws her shoes haphazardly, grabbing a fork and ice cream pint before marching up the stairs. The door opens hurriedly as she reaches the top of the stairs, making a dramatic show of slamming their bedroom door closed and locking it after.

He reaches the door in a matter of seconds, banging on the door to announce his presence. How kind.

“Open the fucking door, baby.”

She snorts internally at his false change of heart, opting not to respond. Secretly, she already is beginning to fold in her independent stride just by thinking about the tight fitted jersey. She stabs her utensil into the ice cream, letting out a groan when realizing she had grabbed a fork. “I know you’re in there,” he adds after hearing, to which she rolls her eyes. Can men just go away sometimes? “I don’t want to speak to you, Christian,” she says through gritted teeth, suddenly more concerned with how she was going to eat this ice cream with a fork.

She thought he had gone away due to his silence, giving her peace to weigh the consequences of shoving her hands into the tub. Suddenly, the door knob began to shake and in comes her (not) knight in shining armor.

“Did you just pick our fucking lock?!” She asks inquisitively, adding unsafe bedroom lock to her ongoing list of problems.

“I’ll fix it later,” he shrugs nonchalantly, strolling his way into the bedroom like he owns the place. Well, I mean.

“That’s not really the issue here,” she sits up, waving her fork in his direction for emphasis, “what the hell am I going to do when someone breaks into the house and kills me because our LOCK can be picked with a hair pin.”

Christian softly chuckles at the aggressive change in subject stealing the opportunity to come stand in front of her. “I’d be awake and ready to slaughter them before they even reached your side of the bed, sweetheart.” He softly runs his knuckles down her cheek, his thumb stroking her jawline. “Can I talk about what happened tonight?”

“I thought you were leaving me,” she told him honestly, running the number ten pedant along its chain anxiously. “He reached over me and caused me to drop my glass, and I assumed he was talking to me because he felt bad for the accident. I wasn’t even focused on what he was saying, I was too worried on if I had done something to upset you, but then I realized there was nothing I could have done. See, I’m your number one fucking supporter, but your refusal to communicate with me and causing me unnecessary anxiety is getting old. Something has to change, Chris.” She shut her eyes, willing the tears to stay at bay and prove she was not going to back down into his touch. When they reopened, two tears simultaneously fell down, causing Christian to reach out and wipe them with his thumbs.

“Don’t cry, please. Not over me,” he said breathlessly, resting his forehead on hers.

“How can I not?” She wailed, a sob overcoming her at the selfish statement. “My own boyfriend doesn’t even trust me? Instead of helping me out, he makes an assumption I’m cheating on him and humiliates me in a locally frequented bar? Instead of grovelling and mumbling your sorry-ass apologies you tell me not to cry over you? What else is there left to do Christian?”

Her head sits in her hands, a cry of frustration leaving her lips at his silence. Christian takes a step back, his mouth opening and closing. She begins to grab her pillow and blanket, gathering them up into her arms. He reaches out to grab her arm, “This conversation is far from over.” His tone was soft, but the words enraged her even more. “If I remember correctly, a conversation takes two people. Sitting there and gaping like a fucking fish because I finally put you in your place is not that.”

“Jesus Christ, I just need a moment to put my thoughts together!” He exclaims, running a hand through his hair.

“Christian, don’t you dare start raising your voice at me as a way of deflection because you’re too fucking scared to put your pride aside and own up to your own actions.”

She breezes past him, the door slamming in her exit. Christian stands in her wake, the room suddenly way too cold and empty. “Fuck!” He screams out, standing in silence by himself in the shared room. His heart races in his chest, hands shaking.

They both go through their nightly routines on separate sides of the apartment, the unresolved argument somehow causing tension even with the distance. Christian can practically feel the knots in his back and his chest, from the thought of losing you and intensive soccer. He brushes his teeth in the mirror for the first time without you somewhere near him, his heart dipping at the realization as he spits into the bowl. He shuts the lamp off and climbs into the cold bed, a sigh and a singular tear escaping him once he realizes he can’t roll over and pull you into his side.

He’d been wallowing in his own mistakes and tears when the bedroom door creaked open slightly, the light from the hallway illuminating her face. She was wrapped in their favorite blanket, her makeup smeared down her face, making his heart twist into knots. The sight of her looking so distraught made every part of his body set on fire in fury at himself. “Hi baby,” he croaks, his voice raspy from crying, “Are you ok?” She stuffs her hands into his men’s national team hoodie, taking a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you I love you,” she says, her voice cracking halfway through. He swears his heart simultaneously cracks and heals at the words, knowing he still has a shot at fixing things. “I love you,” he responds, sitting up in the bed that now seemed way too massive for him.

She tried to ignore the way her heart dipped at the sight of him, his curls sticking up in every way, his shirtless torso somehow gleaming from the minor light. She knew it was a bad idea, and she was still no where near being over the events, but somewhere in her brain she knew neither of them would be sleeping tonight without each other. She also knew it was essential for her to uphold her golden rule of life, always tell the person you love them. Her feet pad over to the edge of the bed, now standing in front of Christian’s side. He scoots over hopefully, outstretching his arms nervously. She climbs straight into them, snuggling her face into his chest.

He grabs onto her tighter than he ever had before, his fingers gracefully scratching up and down her back. He reaches his head down and presses a chaste kiss to her collarbone, his light stubble and the sensitivity of the area making her giggle. He switches them into a spooning position, his leg locking over her to freeze her in place. “So you don’t run away in the morning and I can give you the best apology you’ve ever heard.” She lets out a complacent laugh, easing his heart into a stable beating.

The morning sun woke Christian up instantly, the golden light illuminating his golden eyes. He attempts to not get completely sidetracked by her and the way morning light makes her angelic. Although, to him, she always looks that way. He tumbles out of bed, the events of the night prior rolling through his head. “God, I’m a dick,” he mumbles to himself walking down the stairs, straight into the kitchen. Acts of service, he recalled in his head as he unloaded the mini waffle maker. He tended to be an awful cook, but his relationship was riding on these damn waffles.

6 failed attempts at waffle batter later, he had three relatively presentable waffles to give his lady. He prided himself on his ability to make coffee for you, and was not about to break his hot streak. If even, this coffee would be his best. After plating his masterpieces into an appetizing breakfast, he wandered into the laundry room. He stared down into the hamper with a scrunched nose. “Jesus,” he mutters as he catches a whiff of his soccer clothes. He picks up his jersey from last night, holding it outstretched with one hand before taking a risky sniff. “Dear God,” he says at full volume, shaking his head at your poor soul doing his laundry for him. “I’m a grown fucking man making my girlfriend do my laundry, especially my soccer clothes. What the fuck is wrong with me?” He says as he throws a tide pod into the fresh load of disgusting soccer clothes, shaking his head at his own antics. He turns to the dryer, taking out specifically your clothes and folding them into neat little piles according to article of clothing. She had so many clothes it seemed like a load of laundry was his whole closet. He grabbed her favorite hoodies out of the dryer as well, throwing them into her pile. His fingers snag on a flashy undergarment, humming to himself. “Hope I get to see this soon.”

Christian plasters a smile on his face a half hour later. The dishes have been unloaded, he folded and put your laundry up, and is now carrying up your homemade breakfast to the shared room. He gently shakes you awake after pit stopping in the bathroom, making sure he smelled of her favorite aftershave. Christian also spent a considerable chunk of time analyzing his sleeve of tattoos, silently willing them to look extra attractive today. He gave a quick flex before walking out and shaking you awake.

She wakes up groggily, her hair a knot on the top of her head, the soft material of Christian T-shirt almost putting her back o sleep instantly. The sight of Christian, shirtless with her favorite sweatpants of his laying low on his hips jolts her awake. He sets the plate and coffee down on the nightstand, a sheepish smile on his face. “I believe the panel would like to hear me give a speech.” You laugh lightheartedly at his joke, dramatically motioning for him to continue. Coffee in hand you tilt your head up at his nervous expression, “Your beloved panel is ready to continue.”

He runs his hands threw his hair one last time before giving himself a quick pep talk. I can do this. It’s not like her breaking up with me is my greatest fear. That’s not going to happen, though, because I’m about to prove how great of a man I am. “I lost my shit last night for no good reason. I have no backing for why I did what I did, beside the fact that I can be petty and have a gnarly green streak. Those are not, and will never be in this relationship, a valid reason for the way I behaved. I’m apologizing not because I just want you to forgive me, but because I want you to know that I hold your love and trust like it’s the most important thing in the world, and last night I didn’t show that. I love you for many reasons, but especially for your ability to challenge me to consistently be a better man for you and prove that you deserve the finest. I appreciate you keeping me In check more than you know. I know I’ve been lacking recently, and I can only say the fast paced change to AC Milan Is draining all of my energy. You didn’t know that, though, because of my dumbass’s inability to communicate, which is going to change. We’re a team and I need to treat us as such. Safe to say I will be keeping my green monster in check from now on, because you mean more than anything to me. I have a streak of insecurity and that was what took over me last night, even though it was my fault you were left alone. My inability to communicate my feelings and plans to you is changing, and I’ll prove it to you.”

A moment of silence enraptured the room, her jaw falling open in shock. Christian communicated his feelings. The first step in progress. “I folded and put away your laundry, started a new load, and undid the dishwasher. Just the beginning of proving how committed I am to this relationship and keeping it strong on my part, which I’ve been failing at.” What the fuck, Chris? She takes a long slurp from her irresistible coffee, staring up at him through the mug. He nervously shifts from foot to foot, and maybe it made her sick, but she was partly enjoying him squirm over losing her. It made a woman feel powerful, what can she say? She sets the mug down, silent tension cutting the room.

“Christian,” her voice cuts through, with a chiding tone that made his heart start palpitating. “Kiss me and prove it further.”

—

babe wake up augustinescruelsummer finally fucking wrote again.

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic fic #christian pulisic one shot #football x y/n

263 notes · View notes

captainpulisic · 10 months

Text

turned my bed into a sacred oasis - c. pulisic

credit and thank you to my beloved miss belize for helping me with the plot & dialogue. I owe you many orange slices. not technically a sequel to this but I see this being in the same universe word count: 2.6 k gif credits to myself

they’re delicate touches as your fingers trace mindless shapes over his chest. you’re quite content in your current position, head laid on christians shoulder and a leg thrown over his. your bodies were still slightly sweaty, the sheets pooling around both your waists. you get lost tracing the lines of his tattoos, leaving an occasional kiss on his shoulder. he answers by letting out soft hums of approval.

you trace a few hearts and both your initials across his collarbones until you dip a little lower, landing where his actual heart is. feeling the low drum of his heartbeat brings a smile to your face. you flatten your palm and apply light pressure, “your hearts going kinda crazy right now.”

“yeah well in case you forgot, we literally just had sex.” he lets out a breathless laugh. there's a pinch to your bare hip and light kiss to the top of your head. there’s only sincerity when he adds, “and i’m positive my heart is always like that when i’m around you.”

you’re torn between rolling your eyes at his clicheness and kissing him silly for his romanticism. you settle with a soft whisper, “i’ve missed you.”

“missed you more.” he begins to mirror your tender touches, pressing you closer to him. soon enough, you feel one of his hands trail along your lower back while the other catches your moving hand- the sneaky one that had caused his heart to thump faster than usual. automatically, your fingers intertwine and he gives them three gentle squeezes. “and i’m so happy I get to sleep next to you, again.”

“really?” satisfied with your current predicament, you’re too comfortable in christians arms to try to look up at him. you settle with opening one eye and leaving another kiss on his shoulder.

“are you kidding me?” his hand travels to your waist, leaving another squeeze. this earns him another kiss from you. his voice has gotten softer, more timid. “I don’t think i’d be a very good boyfriend if I wasn't happy about that, y/n.”

you feel yourself drifting to sleep, content to have christian back in your bed- both sexually and literally. snuggling deeper into his side, you don’t notice how stiff he’s gotten.

you feel him take a deep breath, “I am a good one, right?”

your brain and body are exhausted, so you’re not really processing the conversation. you stifle a yawn and absent-mindedly ask, “a good what?”

there’s a pause before he says- well whispers, “boyfriend.”

you freeze for a moment. that’s all it takes for your mind to wake up and your eyes to fully open.

“what?” you’re offended on his behalf, immediately sitting up. the cold air nips at you, yet you’re too startled to care. christian whines at the sudden loss of your body warmth, instantly missing your touch. he tries to coax you back into laying down, avoiding your hard stare as his arms try to ease you back into position. much to his dislike, you’re swatting these attempts away and are searching his face for some sort of explanation. you’re baffled, “why would you even ask me that? what?”

he’s looking everywhere in the room but you.

you scoff, “of course you’re a good boyfriend, you’re an amazing one.”

“alright, then.” he bites his lip, somberly nodding. he leans back onto the pillow, giving no further explanation.

as confused as ever, you shake his arm. he looks like he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it but you can’t let it go. minutes ago you both were happy and on some sort of love high, and the idea of him going to sleep sad makes you want to die. you won’t allow it, christian deserves to always be happy. you probe, “why did you ask?”

“forget it, it was just me being stupid.” he sighs, self-pityingly shaking his head. he takes another moment before adding, “it’s just stupid.”

“hey, it is not stupid.” you reach over and hold his hands in yours. you start to kiss his knuckles and work your way down to his palms. his shell begins to crack, and he finally meets your eye. another kiss to his wrist, “just help me understand, i’m a little lost.”

he pauses, trying to choose the right words. you leave another kiss on his palm, encouraging him to speak. another sigh, “I just don’t know if i’m doing any of this right, or if i’m doing a good job at it.”

another pause.

he says it all very slowly, carefully choosing his words. “i’ve just never really had anything like this before. i’m not sure i’m being enough for all of the shit included.”

“hmm?” you encourage him to elaborate.

“you know, i’ve never had anything become so serious, with anyone.” it’s a sad smile, yet it doesn’t fail to absolutely shatter your heart. his eyes can’t seem to look directly at you, averting their gaze to the ceiling. the way he’s biting down hard on his lip makes you sure he’ll draw up blood. “i’ve had relationships but nothing official, really. it’s never been able to get as far as we have.”

the atmosphere had gotten very sullen and you’re sure you’re as close to tearing up as he is. hearing these deep, tucked away concerns tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel horrible that he’d ever even felt any sadness. plus, the way his voice was beginning to shake was not helping. you leave a few more kisses on his wrists, your fingers begin to rub small circles on his palms.

christian continues, “no one thinks it’s worth it, having to put up with this life. i mean, you’ve seen how it is. the scrutiny and rumors and lack of privacy and everyone having an opinion on my life. no one will put up with that, no one will want to.”

“hey,” your frown grows more prominent. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. you let go of his hands to cup the sides of his face, forcing him to finally look at you. “now who got those stupid thoughts stuck in your head, I have to go beat them up.”

he lets out a soft laugh at this, barely letting the side of his mouth quirk up. it gratifies you, but it’s not enough. you need to see him utterly and completely happy before either of you are allowed to go to sleep.

neither you nor christian had to answer your question, though. you both knew the answer as soon as you asked it. all he could do was cast his eyes down at the space between the both of you, his lips turning downward, again. he was thinking of her. you didn’t like using her name, it humanized the enemy. yes, anyone who caused christian a fraction of sadness was your enemy for life. and you didn’t know much about her, only that she had been here before you and hurt christian beyond words. she’d used him and left him and left you with the task of picking up the pieces of his heart.

“I thought that what I had with,” you see him hesitate, like a whole new bubble of sadness might be getting caught up in his throat. you offer him a small smile and a tiny nod, pushing him to continue. “what we had was real, that I was finally going to be in a serious, adult relationship but she just left. she told me how it was all too much shit and that no other girl would put up with this life- that none of it was worth it. I guess I took it as me, maybe, not being worth it.”

“she never deserved you or your big heart, really. she was an idiot because none of what she said is true.” you answer within a heartbeat, moving your hands from his face to his hair. running your fingers through it and lightly scratching at his scalp, you hope it brings him a sort of comfort and dispels those horrible thoughts from his head. reassuring him, “and she doesn't deserve to still make you so sad.”

“I don't get sad over her anymore. being with you makes it clear to me that what I felt with her is nothing compared to what I feel when i’m with you.” he shakes his head, confused at your implications. the last thing he wanted was for you to think it was her he was hung up on. it was her words and dissatisfaction with his lifestyle that had put insecurities in his heart. “I think I just get sad over how she might be right. what if, maybe, she and you deserve something easier, something better?”

“christian, no.” you try to shut down his negative thoughts. “she was wrong and she shouldn’t be so inside your head.”

“but it hasn’t just been her,” he whines, finally letting civility out the window and huffing like a petulant child. mumbling on, “i’ve also had flings- or whatever you want to call them- before, but nothing too serious. none of them have stayed, or even tried to. what if it’s because they all know my life is hectic and complicated, what if they don’t want to deal with it?”

“no,” you repeat, trying to get a word in edgewise.

“it’s true!” he’s on a roll now, spilling out all the fears and self-doubt that he’d tried to bury deep inside himself. “and I get it, I do. i’ve never wanted to put anyone in the position of getting harassed simply for being with me.”

“christian-”

“and I know it’s not just that stuff, I know it’s my fault, too.” cue the self-deprecating eye roll and shaky breath. his sad smile has been ever so present tonight and it’s gut wrenching. he babbles on, “I have to train and travel all the time, I have to be focused on my career. it’s like, i’d never have time to be a good enough boyfriend. I get so scared because what if it’s not enough?”

you try once more, “chris-”

he lets out another frustrated groan, “i’ve never wanted to throw caution to wind this badly, i’ve never wanted something to last as much as I do this. i’m helpless and I can only hope that I am being a good boyfriend because it’s what you deserve.”

me? when had we started talking about me?

all you can do is point to yourself, “what I deserve?”

“yeah, you!” he scoffs. “you’re the best person I know and you deserve someone who can give you something more normal, something more easy. I know that’ll be hard to get with me.”

you’re able to squeeze in a ‘screw easy’ amongst his ranting.

“i’ve been pretty good at not going too far with anyone, because I know it’ll never work. there’s no point in any of it. with you, I can’t seem to do that. I selfishly want you, and I keep praying that might be enough.” there’s another shaky breath, “but what if she was right? what if it all becomes too much for you? I don’t think i’d ever get over you leaving.”

god, just tear your heart into two. you’re sure it’d hurt less.

“don’t think about her, or of the untrue, idiotic things she said. you’re the one who deserves someone good.” you manage to level your voice, speaking with only love and admiration towards him. yet, all you really want to do is scream and curse her out for all the damage she’d done to this beautiful boy. he deserved everything good in the world and you intended to prove that to him. “loving you and being here, in this bed, with you is the greatest privilege of my life. I must’ve been a holy saint in my past life, who did a lot of charity, for me to deserve you in this life.”

“y/n,” he tries to cut you off this time. you raise your finger to his lips, silencing him. in return, he playfully bites the tip of your finger but nonetheless remains quiet.

you continue, “I would endure all that ‘shit’ ten times over if it meant I got to come home to you every night. I would go through worse, horrible things if it meant we’d be lying in this bed as you told me about your day. I don’t think there’s anything in this world that would stop me from wanting to be with you. hey, don't give me that look- i’m serious. the only way you’re getting rid of me is if you go into witness protection or something.”

he averts his stare to the ceiling as he becomes a blushing mess. this is too much, he wants to blurt out. your love is so much and I don’t think I deserve it. I don’t want to taint it.

“i’m pretty sure i’m going to love you forever. so, all I ask is you let me and keep letting me until then.” it’s a mere whisper when you add, “please?”

you see him internally struggle for a moment. you worry that your words didn’t get through to him and he’ll continue to stay in his puddle of self doubt. his eyes shift between your own, as if pondering over everything you’d just laid out on him. he cracks a smile before it’s gone all too soon. yet, there's a mischievous spark in his eye, only you could see.

“y/n, I need you to be honest with me,” he feigns a serious look. raising an eyebrow, those big brown eyes search your face for a moment. after a moment, he squints, “are you just saying these things to get into my pants?”

you snort before you could even try to stop it.

“hey, im serious.” he pouts, still committed to his solemn expression. “you should know that I don’t put out so easily.”

“well I don't think you’re going to like what i’m going to say next,” you trail off. one quick glance and it’s obvious his hair is more disheveled than ever- and that bit of smudged lipstick on the corner of his mouth isn't helping his case. you look down to where the sheets are still pooled around you both. from the corner of your eye, you can easily identify where both of your clothes had been discarded without a second thought. your fingers reach out to tap the various hickeys left on his collarbone, “but I think you do.”

this made him laugh. it was one of those happy, boyish laughs- the contagious kind. therefore, you were quick to join in, ignoring the strong urge to leave a kiss in the crease by his eyes. in the midst of the laughter, christian has gotten the upper hand and managed to ease you back into his arms. as he positions you to lay on top of him, you rest your chin on his chest, eyes shining bright as you peer up at him.

he smiles at you, his eyes warm and soft as they travel over your face. “being here in this bed, with you, it’s the only place I wanna be, too. just being with you makes everything seem worth it, you make it seem worth it.”

“let’s not dwell, yeah?” your laughter calms and you sigh, letting your fingers trace softly over the ink on his chest. you leave a kiss there, giving him your brightest smile. “we’re together, the last thing we should be is sad.”

rather than responding, he leans down to leave a quick kiss on your lips and nods in agreement. it’s soft and sweet and shy, and as lovely as every kiss he gives you. that night (like every other night), there’s no other place that he'd rather be, than in that bed wrapped up in you.

feedback is greatly appreciated. feeling very iffy abt this one so please be gentle with it.

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic angst #idk if this is angst tbh

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hischierswhore · 10 months

Note

hey! i was wondering if you could do an instagram au with christian and mason based on “high infidelity” by taylor swift 😊

high infidelity social media au (m. mount & c. pulisic)

based on the song by Taylor Swift

as a puli girl… this hurt to make. anyways enjoy

may 19th, 2023

june 15th, 2023

june 17th, 2023

yourusername

liked by 302,845 people

yourusername do you really wanna know where i was april 29th?

view all 74,948 comments

puligirl10 APRIL 29TH? HUH?

natisdelulu HOLD ON THATS NOT CHRISTIAN’S ARM-

y/nlover WAIT YOU’RE RIGHT?!?!?!??!

chelseafan19 i’m here for the drama that’s about to come

natisdelulu fabriziorom give us the inside scoop on this bc i need to know

fabriziorom i don’t usually give updates on players’ personal lives but… i will confirm that arm does not belong to Pulisic

june 19th, 2023

june 29th, 2023

yourusername

liked by masonmount & 402,758 others

yourusername happy two months masonmount. thank you for bringing me back to life ❤️

view all 193,742 comments

christianislife hold on the math isn’t mathing 🧍🏻‍♀️

y/nlover WITH MASON?!?! WHAT THE FUCK

masonsgf ooh girl you’re BOLD to post this and leave the comments enabled

chelseafc congrats (????)

masonmount ❤️

masonfan82 omg the red heart. this is him confirming he’s going to Man United

chelseafan13 this is not like a taylor swift easter egg. it’s just a red heart💀

puligirl10 you cheating on Christian with one of his best friends was NOT on my 2023 bingo card

natisdelulu major side eye bff

#✎ natalie writes #christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic fanfic #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x y/n #christian pulisic x you #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #christian pulisic angst

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httpsuniverse · 9 months

Text

easy on me [ christian pulisic ]

you were young when you and christian broke up. you made a huge decision for the both of you back then and you were confident enough to know that the decision you made would be better for the both of you, but what happens when he learns about the biggest secret you’ve been hiding from him since you separated ways?

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — christian pulisic x ex!reader; oc!emily, oc!ezekiel, oc!andrew . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °. *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — angst, unplanned pregnancy, profanities, inaccurate description of mentioned places (as i’m not american, nor do i live in the states) . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °. *

[ 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 ] — 6,219 words . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 📲 °. *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ the LONGEST scenario i've written, all thanks to disney+ hahahaha i’ve rewatched the parent trap and the game plan the other day, so i thought about this. i also plan on writing a parent trap-like story, but i’m still figuring out how i’d write it lol but anyway, enjoy! ❤️ btw, i haven’t betaread this so if there’s any errors, let me know and i’ll edit it!

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

watching this little kid grow up was both scary and amazing. five years have passed since you met him, since you first heard his heartbeat. five years ago, he opened his eyes and welcomed himself in this cruel world one september morning. watching him grow up to the person he was today felt both accomplishing and depressing. ezekiel mate was his name, and yes–you’ve named him after his father. his father who is not aware of his own existence. it wasn’t ezekiel’s fault though, you’ve made this decision by yourself and there was nothing you could do but uphold your decision and do your responsibilities as a mother–a single mother in fact. you thought it would be the best for all sides, for you and ezekiel’s father.

he has his own career to think about, he was about to make his name known to people. to be known in the sport he loved most and all people would cheer his name, plaster printed copies of his face and name across the whole country. you didn’t want to ruin that opportunity for him, a child would only affect his career. between practices, training, matches, flights–surely, christian wouldn’t have any time to take care of a child. with you in north america and him in europe, it just simply wouldn’t work. you still remember the night you broke up with him, in fact, you can’t forget about it. it haunts you like a stupid nightmare, it keeps you awake most of the time.

you sacrificed a lot for ezekiel. giving up university for a year to navigate things on how to be a mom, and trying to make ends meet by working–sure, your parents were there to help financially and take care of your baby in times you needed them, but you wanted to be able to support ezekiel on your own. balancing work, university and a growing child was hard and there were days that you wanted to just give up. but you didn’t, because you were the only parent that ezekiel has in his life.

“mama?” you heard a tiny voice call you, waking you up from reverie. ezekiel’s tiny footsteps were heard as he ran towards you. “why are you still awake?” you smiled at the little boy, gently picking him up from the ground and sat him on the kitchen counter in front of you. his slightly curly hair, deep dimples and honey brown eyes that look so captivating under the light, reminded you so much of his father. not to mention, they both share the same birthday.

“just… thinking of something, baby.” you answer, “why are you still awake? we have a flight to catch tomorrow, you know?”

“i know! we’re going to florida, to aunt emily and i’m too excited to sleep, mama.”

you giggled, “well, we both need to sleep now. we have an early flight and you need to have a lot of energy when you get to aunt emily’s place.”

you took ezekiel in your arms, making sure that his favourite stuffed toy was secured in his arms as you made your way back to his room. gently, you put him to his bed and tucked him in, sitting on the edge of his bed as you stared at him, waiting for his eyelids to shut as he told you how his day was. ezekiel spent the day with your parents, they lived nearby and offered to babysit him while you went to work.

minutes later, ezekiel’s words were slurring. meaning, he was about to drift off to dreamland. you both have to be awake by 5 am to catch your flight, and it was already almost midnight. you don’t need a fussy, grumpy 4-year-old throughout your 3 hour flight to florida. when you were sure that ezekiel was fast asleep, you planted a kiss on his head, tips of your fingers running through his soft cheeks as you stared at him.

you left ezekiel’s room, quietly shutting the door closed. instead of going to your room to rest, you opted to stay in the living room. you sat there in silence, letting your own thoughts eat you again. you felt anxious, but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why. you stare at the wall across from where you were sitting, it was filled with pictures of your family and some pictures of you and ezekiel. the ones from his birth, to his birthdays and his first day of preschool. you remembered that day clearly, when you fetched ezekiel from your parents’ place after his first day of preschool about a few months ago. you two were driving back to your place from your parents, he was quietly playing with his ipad behind you when he asked something you didn’t expect.

“mama, do i have a papa?” he asked, eyes still on his gadget. your heart dropped at the question. “i saw my friends with their papa today. do i have a papa?”

you remember pulling over the side of the road to take a deep breath before answering. he picked it up so early, noticing that it was only the two of you the past four years.

“of course you have a papa, my love.” you answered, not really sure what to say next.

“why is he not here? does my papa hate us?”

sometimes, four year olds ask the most piercing questions and they don’t even know how it could change one’s whole mood, just like what your son was doing. “he doesn’t hate us, your papa is just… busy.”

“is it my fault, mama?”

you sighed, removing your seatbelt and faced ezekiel. “no, baby. it’s not your fault, it will never be your fault.” you said, smiling to let him know that he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. “it’s just… mama and papa needed some time away from each other. it doesn’t mean that it’s your fault, baby. it’s never your fault.”

ezekiel smiled at you, mumbling a small okay. you chose to go to the nearest fast food chain drive thru, not in the mood to cook as you were tired the whole day and with ezekiel’s questions to you, sure enough you wouldn’t be able to focus on making dinner.

“it’s mama’s fault, zeke.” you murmured, holding a picture of your son. “i’m the one to blame.”

—

“if you don’t wait for mama, you might be lost and i will be very sad.” you tell your 4-year-old as you wait for your bags.

the flight from new york to florida was easy, because your son was asleep throughout the duration of the flight. however, it was during the landing when he woke up and started to be talkative and hyper. you only had at least an hour or two of sleep from last night, waking up at 3 am to catch a 6 am flight. ezekiel was usually listening to you every time you two go out, but since he’s all napped out, you were dealing with a hyper kid (you blame yourself for giving him cookies before you landed).

ezekiel held your hand as you pushed your luggage towards the arrivals exit. you two were greeted with a big sign that says welcome to florida, y/n and zeke! by your best friend, emily and her husband, andrew. your son ran straight to his godmother, he couldn’t read the sign yet but he knew it was his favourite aunt.

“zeke, you’re a big boy now!” emily exclaimed, hugging him tight and letting go of your son a few seconds later to face you. “and you, a hot mama, you’re looking beautiful as ever!”

you playfully hit her arm and hugged her. the four of you made way for the other people in the airport, heading to the parking lot. emily and andrew had invited you over to celebrate the fourth of july with them, as well as to meet your goddaughter, celeste. they invited the two of you to stay with them for a week as emily said that you two had a lot of catching up to do.

the drive from the airport to the emmons’ residence wasn’t that far, it only took the four of you about forty-five minutes. emily and andrew’s place was beautiful and cosy, perfect for the couple and the family they dreamed of building. your room for the week had a view of the lake, which you liked the most. emily had ezekiel for a few minutes as you unpack your stuff and prepare ezekiel’s swimming trunks.

“we can go boat riding in the next few days!” emily told ezekiel, “but for now, we can swim in the backyard and play with celeste. is that okay with you, zeke?”

ezekiel nodded his head, turning to you. “your swimming trunks are in the room. change first and go back to mama so i can put sunscreen on you, alright?”

“yes mama!”

ezekiel changed his clothes and had his sunscreen applied, excitedly joining andrew in the pool. you and emily were lounging with her 4-month-old daughter, celeste. the day passed by so quickly; it seems like ezekiel enjoyed his first day in florida as after dinner, instead of asking for his ipad to play and watch his favourite kids show, he asked if he could go to sleep. poor kid must’ve been exhausted running around the backyard with andrew. when you were certain that ezekiel was tucked and safe on the bed, you went back to the living room where the couple was waiting for you.

“little too early for wine, isn’t it?” you smiled, taking a seat across the couple.

“it’s never too early for wine.” said emily, “plus, celeste is already asleep and hopefully, won’t wake up for the next three hours.”

the three of you were talking about life now that you were all parents now. unlike you, emily was fairly new to parenthood and she has someone by her side throughout the journey. were you jealous? maybe you were, a little. but you had a choice and your choice was to go through this alone anyway, so you immediately shut those thoughts off.

unlike you, your best friend did everything by the book. she and andrew got married over a year ago, gave birth to their first child, and not long ago, they recently bought a home in a gated community which is why they moved from new york to florida. nevertheless, you were happy for emily. she deserved it after all.

as the three of you continued to converse, andrew had asked a question you weren’t expecting: “are you on good terms with ezekiel’s dad?” you understood why he had asked you that, he had no idea about your relationship with christian because the two of you met when he and emily started dating during their years in university, unlike emily who knew you since you were still in diapers.

“babe, that’s not—”

“it’s okay, emily.” you said, “he and i have not spoken since i was pregnant with ezekiel. i have no idea what’s going on with his life now, but wherever he is, i just hope he’s doing well in his career.”

since you and christian broke up, you made sure not to see his name or hear anything about him at all. blocked him and muted his name and any word tied to his name including football and soccer. it wasn’t easy at first but you got used to it as the years passed by. you wonder what happened in his career now, was he still in dortmund? which part of europe was he living now? how was his career in the national team?

the past five years, you’ve been avoiding christian and everything related to him, yet you go back to square one whenever someone asks you about him. you and christian only dated for a year, and your relationship was really private back then. only a handful of people knew about it. nobody knows outside of your family and emily that ezekiel’s father was christian. the people around you and your family thought that you were knocked up by some random guy you met in university. did it hurt? of course it did. having people see you as a careless young adult, have them judge you for being a parent at such a young age but that didn’t stop you from trying your best to be a good parent to ezekiel.

however, sooner or later, ezekiel would ask you about his father—it already happened one time, and you know it’s bound to happen again in the future. was it selfish to hide your child from his own father? yes, it was, but you couldn’t blame yourself for wanting to protect him. you were aware how cruel people could be, especially people who idolise christian. you could take the hate from them but the thought of your only child getting unnecessary hate from the people who don’t know the whole story simply breaks your heart and makes you anxious.

but, who knows what the future holds?

—

“andrew, y/n and i will go for a quick run!” emily announced to her husband.

andrew appears in the kitchen, celeste was in his arms and trying to make the baby burp. “is it okay to leave ezekiel here? i mean, andrew’s already taking care of celeste.” you said, a bit worried that andrew couldn’t handle two kids.

andrew chuckles, “i’ll be fine as soon as celeste falls asleep. me and mr. big boy here can play video games while she naps.” he answered, “now, you ladies go. we’ll be fine here.”

“are you sure, andrew?”

“y/n, andrew has babysat most of his nephews and nieces all at once, and he has 6 of them. i think he can handle an infant and a child.” emily laughs, “now, let’s go!”

“alright, alright!” you gave in, levelling with ezekiel’s eyes. “promise mama that you’ll be a good boy for uncle andrew?”

you extend out your pinky, and ezekiel wrapped his around yours, putting a smile on everyone’s faces. seconds after that, you and emily were out of the door and started running laps around the whole neighbourhood. it took you two an hour before you stopped by a local park, finding a shade to relax for a bit. the both of you were quiet, enjoying the sound of the trees as you relaxed.

“i’m sorry about andrew’s question last night.” emily suddenly said, “you know, the one about he-who-must-not-be-named.”

you let out a chuckle and shook your head. “it’s okay, ems. it was just an innocent question.” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. “it’s really not the first time someone asked about him anyway.”

“what do you mean?”

“zeke. he asked about his dad during his first day of school, a few months back.” you answer, “he asked if he had a dad, if his dad hates us because he wasn’t present and… was it his fault why his dad’s not around.”

“oh my… y/n, i’m sorry.”

emily hugs you tightly, feeling a bit sad as zeke was too young to think about such things. you never told anyone about your conversation with your son that day until today, and it felt so good to finally get it out of your chest.

“i feel so selfish to keep him away from christian, you know?” you open up, “but it was the only thing i could think of. ems, you know how well his career was going back then. i didn’t want him to sacrifice such a huge opportunity for me and ezekiel back then.”

at this point, you were tearing up. you couldn’t help it. you were always vulnerable when you talked about ezekiel and christian. back when you found out that you were pregnant, you made this decision to break up with christian and have the baby alone. back then it felt like you shot two birds with one stone, christian’s career being the one bird and the other is protecting your child from the public eye.

you and emily stayed at the park for a few more minutes, just until you cried out and walked back home. maybe it was time, it’s been years after all and christian deserve to know the truth. the whole day passed, ezekiel enjoyed spending it with you and the emmons, taking you both on a boat ride which ezekiel loved the most. seeing your child’s smile from ear to ear warmed your heart, yet you felt guilty. since ezekiel was born, there was this guilt that was running through your heart; that nagging guilt saying that you were depriving both of them by taking away the chance to be in each other’s life.

fuck it, i’m gonna do it. you thought to yourself in the middle of the night while staring at the ceiling.

christian thought his eyes were deceiving him the moment he saw the notification, his fingers immediately pressing on the message. usually, he would ignore message requests, but as he saw your name, he had flashbacks all of a sudden. it’s been five years, yet your name was still imprinted in his mind. five years of thinking where did he go wrong in your relationship, if there was something he did that made you end your relationship, and if it had something to do with his career. five years ago, his career was thriving and his love life came crashing.

he remembered the night you broke up with him, it was when you flew to visit him during your winter break and it happened on a typical day. the two of you did the usual routine since you arrived, wake up together, eat together and after that, he went to training while you stayed at his place. by the time he arrived, you ate dinner together. he even offered to wash the dishes as you already cooked. life was perfect, or so he thought.

“is there something bothering you?” he asked when he noticed the change of mood while you two lied in bed. “talk to me.”

“it’s just nothing.”

normally, christian would ask you again–if you were okay, what was bothering you and all. but this time, he heard your tone that signified you weren’t really in the mood, so he let it go. the two of you cuddled up in bed, with you as the little spoon and listening to each other breathing. until you asked him a question.

“what do you think of kids, chris?”

“what do you mean what do i think of kids?”

“you know, what is your opinion about kids? about having and raising your own?”

christian chuckles, letting you turn around to face him. “well, i would like to have one, maybe two or three.” he answered, “but definitely not now. we’re still young, we have dreams to achieve. big dreams in our careers. what about you?”

there was a brief moment of silence before you spoke up, “yeah, same answer as you, i guess.”

he remembers changing the topic that night, he didn’t notice your lack of energy speaking to him–thinking that maybe you were just tired and weren’t in the mood to speak. the following day, same routine. only then, when he arrived home, you two got into an argument that eventually led to the end of your relationship.

hey, i can make time. we can meet tomorrow. after agreeing where you’ll meet, christian couldn’t help but wonder what was the reason behind it. will it be the closure he’s been longing for the past five years?

morning came and only a few hours left until you meet christian. you let emily know about your plan, agreeing to watch ezekiel and let you borrow her car to drive to the park where you and christian agreed to meet. to say that you were nervous was an understatement of what you’re feeling. you still wonder what his reaction would be and how he would take such a huge news you were about to drop.

the time left passed by so quickly. you kissed your son goodbye and drove to carlin park. when you arrived, you were stunned by the number of people. surely, you didn’t want to tell your baby daddy that you were pregnant with his child in front of hundreds of people, especially since he was a known athlete. anxiety pools all over you again, taking deep breaths before getting out of the car and head to the agreed place.

“christian?” you called, walking towards him. he turned around and smiled at you. you haven’t seen this man in years. he has changed so much, he looked like a stranger you know too well. his beard was fully grown, it looked good on him. his left arm was filled with tattoos. looking at christian now, you could see what ezekiel would look like in the future; after all, he was the spitting image of his father.

“it’s nice to see you again, y/n.” he said, “shall we go for a walk at the beach or do you want to sit down?”

“we could go for a walk.”

you could hear your heart thumping at this point as you walked alongside christian.

“it's been five years, y/n. how have you been?” he asked.

you took a deep breath, “well, i graduated. i also work now, so i guess i’m fine.” you answer, not sure if it was the answer he wanted to hear. “and i apologise for asking to meet up last minute. if i ever clashed with a schedule of yours.”

“it’s okay, i still have a few days before i leave for milan anyway.” he answered, “why did you want to meet all of a sudden? and i’m a bit shocked that you know where i stay now.”

this is it, y/n. you cannot fuck this up. “actually, i didn’t know that you lived around the area. i blocked you in every social media i have, muted your name and tried my best to avoid seeing your name. just last night, i found out that you live here now. the internet’s a scary place, you know?” you said, “but, aside from that, i do have something to tell you. something big and important.”

christian chuckles awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “uh, okay. what is it?”

“do you remember the night we broke up?”

“can’t really forget about it.” he replied, “why?”

“the night before i asked you what you think about having kids, and you said you’d like to have one but you said we still had dreams to achieve, right?” he nodded, “well, that day i actually found out that i…i was pregnant. 5 weeks back then.”

christian stopped his tracks and when you looked back at him, his face dropped and his eyebrows were furrowed. confusion was spread all over his face.

“i–i didn’t ask to meet you because i need some sort of financial support for the kid or whatever, i just wanted to let you know.” you said, biting your lip as he stayed silent. “if you want to do some paternity tests, i would gladly let you.”

“no, no. i uh, believe you.” he replied, “is the baby…?”

“he’s four and has the same birthday as you, chris. he’s doing well in preschool, and uh…” you paused, pulling out your phone from your pocket and opened a picture of ezekiel to show him. “this is him. his name’s ezekiel mate. he’s your mini me.”

“mate?”

“yeah, well… at first i wanted to give him your last name but i thought it’ll stir controversy so i opted to give him your middle name.” you confessed, passing him your phone. “i hope that doesn’t bother you, christian but i understand if it does. and really, i apologise for telling you this so late.”

christian looked at ezekiel’s picture, examining his facial features that reminded you of him. ezekiel looked like him when he was still a kid, he could see some of your features there as well and there is no doubt that this wasn’t his kid. the pulisic genes were strong and evident.

the two of you continued to walk along the beach, christian was asking you questions about ezekiel until you two stopped in the part of the beach where there were less people. you were both staring at the horizon, it was then when christian asks you the question you’ve been avoiding.

“did you… did you plan on telling me about him even before today?”

“...yes” you breathed, “i–i was supposed to tell you, christian. i really wanted to, but you were just… you had a huge opportunity to showcase yourself in europe. i didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“why?”

“because i know how demanding your job could be. it was already demanding when we were together, it ate a lot of our time together. a part of me thought that maybe a child would be a huge inconvenience to your career.”

all the small milestones that ezekiel achieved, christian had missed out and you wouldn’t blame christian if he chooses to be mad or hate you for hiding his child from him. he had every right to do so after missing five years of his son’s life.

“why didn’t you reach out to me, to my family at least?”

“i was afraid, okay? i was young, we were young. i was figuring out who i wanted to be and obviously, being a young mother was something i did not expect that i’ll be.” you said, on the verge of tears.

“and so, was it okay for you? to be a young, single mom?” he fought back, “y/n, if you had told me before, you know i would do everything. i would’ve quit—”

“and that’s exactly why i didn’t tell you. i changed who i was to put you both first, christian. i wanted you to succeed, you had dreams. at the same time, i wanted a normal life for ezekiel.” you said, tears cascading out of your eyes. “you were achieving your lifelong dreams, christian. i didn’t want to interfere with that. i didn’t want you and your parents’ hard work to be cut short because of me, because of ezekiel.”

christian then realised the things you had gone through raising ezekiel alone. his heart broke when he heard the things people around you told you when your bump started showing. it hurts him to think that you’ve gone through it all alone–all the heartbreaking things people around you told you. even before, when you were still together, it was one of the things that he admired about you. you were a strong and resilient woman.

“can i… can i meet him?”

that caught you off guard, “sure, i guess. when do you want to meet him?”

“tonight, if it’s okay with you?”

you nodded your head, a bit unsure how ezekiel would react. normally, he is shy when meeting new people. but this wasn’t any other person, this was his father. so when christian walked you back to the car and made sure you were inside, you dialled emily’s number.

“how’d it go?” was the first thing she said upon answering the call while you started the engine of the car.

“it went well, surprisingly.” you answered, “one little problem though.”

“what?”

“he uh, he wants to meet him. tonight.” you said, biting your lip. “would it be okay if christian came over at your place?”

“are you crazy? it’s more than okay! plus, it’s much safer and private here instead of going out. lots of people know him, you know?”

you sighed, “i’m nervous, ems. i don’t know how zeke will react, i don’t even know what i’ll say to him.”

“zeke is a wonderful kid, i’m sure he will be okay when you tell him the truth.” emily reassures, “look, me and andrew will just be here to support you. no matter how it goes, alright?”

“thank you, ems. literally for everything.”

emily giggles on the other end, “hey, that’s what friends are for, silly!” she joked, “okay, now i’m gonna end this call to go get dinner ready. you get home safely!”

“dinner?”

“duh, christian pulisic is coming to my place and i’m not gonna serve him anything? i’m a very hospitable person, of course, i’ll make him something good.”

—

two hours of prepping dinner with the couple, christian rings the doorbell. emily whispered to you good luck as she and andrew stayed in the kitchen, keeping an eye on the food you all made while you head to the front door. you took a few breaths before opening the door for him. dressed in a simple button down with a shirt inside and a pair of shorts, holding a bouquet of flowers.

your heart skipped a beat.

“hi,” he smiled, “these are for you.”

you make way for christian to enter the foyer, taking the flowers from his hands. “thank you, they’re pretty.” you compliment, “this is uh… emily and her husband’s place, by the way. we’re just visiting.”

just in time, emily and andrew entered the scene. “you remember emily, right?” you asked and he nodded.

“it’s been a while, christian.” emily smiled and introduced andrew to him. “dinner will be ready in a few. me and andrew are just in the kitchen if you need us.”

you led christian to the den, leaving him there as you went to get ezekiel. christian was nervous, just like you. he doesn’t know anything about parenting, or how to be a dad in general. he depended on such little information you told him about your son. everything was happening too fast, all he knows is that today was such a crazy day. one minute he finds out he has a son, the other he’s meeting him. he hasn’t even told his family about this information!

“zekey, could you promise to be good for mama?” you asked your son which christian heard, “remember when you asked mama if you had a papa?”

“yes, mama. you told me i had one but papa is just busy that’s why we haven’t seen him.” that broke christian’s heart.

“well, papa is here now.”

seeing ezekiel mate in person was a different feeling than seeing him on your phone earlier today. usually, when meeting new people, ezekiel would hide behind you and stay there until he feels comfortable. but this time, he didn’t. instead, he ran towards christian and gave him a hug.

“hello, papa.”

you bit your lower lip, trying to stop yourself from being emotional as you watch christian and ezekiel meet for the first time.

“hello, ezekiel.” christian smiled, “i’m sorry, papa is so busy. but i’m here now.”

you’ve never seen ezekiel conversate with everybody else this way. he was engaging with every single question that christian asks him, telling him the little details about his life. god, why did you wait so long for these two to meet?

as the father and son get to know each other, you head to the kitchen to continue helping emily and andrew. emily was smiling at you when she saw you enter.

“i told you it’s gonna go well.” she said, “now that zekey and christian have met, what’s up with you and him?”

“what do you mean?”

“the flowers. maybe the two of you could reignite the spark you once had?”

you shook your head, continuing to mash the potatoes to serve later. “it’s not… it’s nothing like that. i doubt anything would happen between us, i mean, he’s probably dating someone.”

“really? you don’t see the two of you dating again?” andrew asked, and you shook your head again. “aww, i was almost excited to be friends with a star player. like, imagine the two of us barbecuing in the backyard?”

“babe, i think you’re man-crushing christian.” emily laughed. “but in all seriousness, y/n. no?”

“nope.” you replied, “like i said, he’s probably dating someone. plus it seems like we both moved on, we put the “us” in the past and i think it’ll stay that way.”

“what about zeke?”

you sighed, “we can co-parent, i guess. if he wants to, of course. i’m not going to force him into something he doesn’t want, at the end of the day, i still want what’s best for zeke and him.” you explained, “if he doesn’t want to co-parent, then that’s totally fine. i’ve raised zeke, i’m sure i can handle it.”

“really?”

“look,” you snapped, “i’m sorry guys, i love you both but… i just have a lot of things in my mind right now. it’s been a long day, can’t we just put the questions aside and just get through dinner?”

the couple nodded their heads. they understood where you were coming from, it wasn’t an easy decision for you to let ezekiel and his father meet, plus it all happened so fast and they were blabbing about the possibilities that could happen in the future. you left the two shortly after you helped them prepare the dining table, heading straight to where you left ezekiel and christian.

ezekiel was in between christian’s legs, focused on his father’s phone as he showed him a compilation of his goals uploaded on youtube. when your son acknowledges your presence, he has the biggest smile on his face.

“mama, i want to play football like papa!”

you chuckle, taking a seat next to them. “well, i guess we could give it a try. but for now, let’s go eat dinner.” you tell your son, and he nodded his head, removing himself from christian’s grasp and ran out of the room, leaving you and his father alone. “so uh, just let me know if you’re uncomfortable during dinner. i can—”

“no, no, no. it’s okay.” christian said, “i, uh… about ezekiel—”

“we can talk about it after dinner.” you said, giving him a small smile as you walked to the dining.

ezekiel was sandwiched between you and christian. the four adults exchanged stories, andrew expressing his shock upon finding out that the father of ezekiel is a star player for the national team. ezekiel adjusted with christian faster than you expected, knowing your son, it would usually take him a few more interactions before he started to talk to them completely but he was really comfortable with him. christian was his father after all.

after dinner, christian thanked the hosts of the house. he even offered to put ezekiel to bed, but the kid had too much energy left in his body and couldn’t sleep yet. he bid his goodbye to ezekiel, promising that they’ll meet and bond again soon which made ezekiel a bit sad, yet happy. when everything was already sorted out, you walked christian back to his car.

“today was… i don’t know, crazy and fun.” he admits, stopping next to his car. “it was a lot to process but i think i’m okay. more than okay with ezekiel, he’s… he’s a good kid and you’ve done so much for him. i’ve never met a kid so clever like him at a young age.”

you smile, you didn’t really expect his compliment and it made you shy. “thank you. i have to say, the people around him influenced him a lot.” you replied.

silence once again surrounded the two of you, you were both waiting for someone to speak–bring up the topic of co-parenting. you didn’t want to be the first one to ask him because it would feel like you were pressuring christian, and christian didn’t want to be the first one to ask you because he knew it would be such a huge adjustment for you and ezekiel.

“y/n” christian called.

you look up to him, staring directly into his honey brown eyes. again, no one was talking. just the sound of the wind and a broken street light not far from where you were standing. the space between you and christian was getting smaller and smaller, his hands gently making their way to your jaw. and the next thing you know, your lips were connected. feeling his lips on yours made your heart beat faster, butterflies in your stomach were getting crazier.

you pulled away, holding his wrist. his forehead and nose on yours as you both catched your breath and closed your eyes. christian felt tears on his cheeks, causing him to open his eyes.

“i can’t… we can’t–” you said, pulling away from him.

“y/n–”

“i’m sorry, chris.”

you ran back inside the house, leaving christian alone in the driveway and he stood there frozen as he tried to process what had happened. did he move too fast? were you overwhelmed by his actions? questions ran through the player’s mind. maybe he did move too fast, and maybe you were scared that history may repeat itself. but this time, christian wanted to let you know that it wouldn’t, that he would do his best to conquer everything. christian was determined to have you again, because this time it isn’t only you he’s fighting for.

he was fighting for you and ezekiel.

#christian pulisic angst #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic #christian pulisic fluff #christian pulisic scenario #christian pulisic x you #football imagine #football x y/n #football x reader #football angst

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lover-222 · 10 months

Text

The Way I Loved You (C.P Version)

...

He is sensible and so incredible And all my single friends are jealous He says everything I need to hear, and it's like I couldn't ask for anything better He opens up my door and I get into his car And he says, "You look beautiful tonight" And I feel perfectly fine

mason was perfect, he was what y/n needed after christian. he was always attentive with her and would bring her flowers, he praised her. mason treated her like a goddess, he would open the door for her every single time.

even when she would open the door by herself, he'd run to her and make her get back in the car and open it for her. his gestures towards her made her heart flutter and she finally felt a different kind of love.

"you guys he's just so amazing, he might be the one" y/n smiled as she talked with her bestfriends.

"you look different y/n you're glowing you look so much more at ease with mason" lilah says then takes a bite out of her pizza.

"she's right!! i'm so jealous y/n, you guys are meant to be he looks at you like he would marry you on the spot" karla said.

y/n thought about mason late at night, he was different. mason was much different than christian. mason was attentive, compliant, and only had eyes for y/n. although he was a rising athlete, he made sure to spend time with her no matter what.

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name So in love that you act insane And that's the way I loved you

as much as she loved mason, there was a small place in her heart for christian. they were in a 2 year relationship, it was a rocky relationship but they loved each other. both of them had their flaws which ended up with them breaking up. she would even have dreams of him and her going on dates and other domestic actions. she laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling while a tear streamed down her face.

"fuck why can't i forget about you" she silently said while rubbing her temple.

she remembered all the fights they had in the span of their 2 year relationship. the fights were on and off.

"are you kidding me christian? do you think i'm dumb? i saw you with her at the club!!" y/n screamed at him.

"baby i swear, she came on to me i told her i had a girlfriend" he told her as he held her hand.

"stop don't baby me christian, you literally kissed her back" y/n's tears were visible.

another fight they had was due to christian not giving her enough attention. christian and y/n had moved to germany since he was going to play for dortmund. time flew by and he was getting better and better at bvb.

this soon became a problem when he dedicated more of his time on football and the football club. christian had a late night session with the boys. he came back to their apartment at around 10pm, he showered, ate dinner and went to bed. in the span of all that he didn't direct any words to y/n.

she was so fed up with him. they never went on dates anymore or had dinner together. so instead y/n got all ready and headed to the club. she had gone with some of the dortmund girlfriends, she drank and ended up having an amazing time.

she felt so distressed and felt how the alcohol took away her relationship problems. she got home at 2am, and what she didn't know was that christian was already home and in their bedroom.

"where were you?!! you didn't respond to any of my texts or calls!" he said as he looked at her.

"well that's exactly how i feel when you're gone, feels like shit right? besides you're never here anyways christian" she sternly said.

"something could've happened to you are you dumb?" he told her.

"fuck you christian, i'm so fed up with you right now" she said drunkly then proceeded to take of her black heels.

after every fight they managed to not talk to each other, although both of them did not last long. they needed each other, christian needed her in the way that she still managed to support him in this career.

while she needed him in the way of how affectionate he was with her and how he knew her. he knew her well, christian knew her body and most importantly her feelings, heart, and mind.

Breaking down and coming undoneIt's a roller coaster kind of rushAnd I never knew I could feel that muchAnd that's the way I loved you

christian and y/n had their own flaws, but the climax of their fights would end up with affectionate hugs and consensual make up sex.

"i fucking hate you sometimes pulisic" she rolled her eyes.

"but you love me, and i'm sorry i really am" he said as he gave her puppy dog eyes which she loved and always melted for.

"i'm sorry too" she told him as she hugged him tighter.

He respects my spaceAnd never makes me waitAnd he calls exactly when he says he willHe's close to my motherTalks business with my fatherHe's charming and endearing

"look mason i need time okay, i'm sorry" y/n said, she wasn't over christian and couldn't play mason since she knew his feeling were real; he gave her the space she needed.

mason was incredibly charismatic and could pick up a conversation with anybody. this worked out when he would come over to y/n's house. he would even bring flowers to her mom and talk to her dad. y/n's parents loved him, they thought he was a gentleman and clearly showed his love towards her.

he was so loved by her parents that they would ask y/n, is mason coming over? you should invite mason!, how is mason doing? which y/n thought it was silly how much they loved him. they liked christian as well but not as much as they loved mason.

although perhaps that was due to their fights or that one time the couple stayed in y/n's old room and were trying to not make any noise while having sex; although they completely failed at it; and by they it was totally y/n.

He can't see the smile I'm fakingAnd my heart's not breaking'Cause I'm not feeling anything at allAnd you were wild and crazyJust so frustrating, intoxicating, complicatedGot away by some mistake and now

mason was perfect, too perfect to be true. y/n would glance at him when he wasn't looking, he was too good for her.

"i love you y/n" he said as he smiled at her

"me too" she smiled back, she knew it; it's not real.

yes it was a different kind of love and much deserved but she just couldn't stop thinking about christian and his dumb smile. she missed the good times she had with him, back when they wouldn't fight all the time.

she missed his tattooed arms around her and how he would play with her hair as they would be cuddling. she knew she had to tell mason and had to stop leading him on. she thought she would start to love him once they got further into their relationship but it never happened.

"look mason, you're an amazing guy who deserves much more and i'm sorry i just can't give you my love if it's not there; you are truly wonderful and deserve someone who can love you back" y/n told him

"it's ok y/n but are you seriously going to go back to him? he doesn't love you like i do; he'll just hurt you again just like he did before" mason said.

maybe he was right but y/n would have to find that out on her own. she went back to germany to find him. she had too, the urge to find him was too much. she ended up going to dortmund and parked at the club's parking, she waited for him to come out.

after she waited for about 30 minutes, she saw him. there he was, it was that damn smile and his stupid laugh that could be heard. he was laughing at something sancho said, that was until he saw her. she got out of the car and weakly smiled at him, which then made him say bye to his teammates.

"what are you doing here??" christian said softly, he was infatuated by her after the breakup they stopped following each other on everything and kept their distance; although that didn't mean that he stopped looking at their pictures on his phone; he never deleted their pictures together.

"i needed to see you christian, i've missed you" she said as she looked up at him.

"no y/n i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry you deserved way better; i was young and two years might not seem as much but i've changed, i wanted to go see you but i was afraid you would reject me; i've missed you much more. if you're willing to give me another chance i promise i'll treat you better" he caressed her cheek while looking at her beautiful eyes; she nodded.

"i missed you pulisic" she said as she pulled him in to a needy kiss.

"i missed you more y/last name" he replied and hugged her tight.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── a/n:

if you have any requests feel free to comment!! mwuah d <3

#christian pulisic #pulisic #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic fanfic #mason mount #mason mount x you #christian pulisic angst #football oneshot #football imagine #football one shot #Spotify

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neverinadream · 10 months

Text

You're His Girlfriend, But You Belong To Me - Part Three

Summary: Emotions run high and hearts are broken in the final chapter of yours and Christian's affair.

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader // Ty (OC) x Fem!Reader

Requested: Nope

Song Inspo: Trying Not To Love You - Nickelback

Warnings: angst, themes of infidelity, heartbreak, a break up, arguing, confessions of infidelity, confessions of love, possessiveness, references of ownership, cocky!christian, violence, suggestive themes....idk if i'm missing anything

Notes: and it's....almost finished!! there is an epilogue still to be posted. i loved this little miniseries a lot, even if the theme isn't everyone's cup of tea. big thanks to @thoseboysinblue who is always there to bounce ideas off, couldn't have done it without you 🫶🏻. the flow is a little dodgy towards the end and there are parts that could've been done so much better but i've gotten too much in my own head over this, so i'm just going to give it to you how it is. what do we want to see in the future?? more miniseries like this?? thank you to all those that read it and gave me feedback on the other parts. it truly means a lot! anyway...feedback is always appreciated!

"Hi. Hello."

Hushed voices are reduced to silence as you appear in front of the microphone, fixing the skirt of the sage-coloured dress that had been trying to kill you all day. The material was soft to the touch and it helped to ease the anxiety riddling your veins, and it didn't matter how many times Ty told you how beautiful you looked, the deadly contraption had to go. The bodice was too tight on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs, and the length of the skirt was too long on your legs, even when wearing your heels. Your mother called it karma for not being there in person when your older sister was making the preparations for her wedding like the rest of her bridesmaids were.

"Wow, there's a lot of you here today," you nervously laughed, pinching at your dress and rubbing the material between your thumb and finger as you looked out at the ocean of guests before you. They were friends and family, but you still didn't recognise nearly half of them. The ones you did recognise didn't look at you with blank expressions, and when you found Christian sitting with the rest of his family, a wave of comfort washed over you as he gave you a subtle smile over the rim of his champagne flute. "For those who don't know me, I am Carrie's little sister," you introduce yourself, "and much like the family dog, I like long walks on the beach, constant attention, and taking naps after I've eaten too much food." You try not to smile as your opening line leaves a few of the guests laughing. "Or, perhaps that's Carrie," you pull a face of confusion, "we've gone our whole lives being mixed up with each other, that even I'm beginning to mix us up."

You glance over at your sister, your hand gently holding onto the top of the microphone, as your other hand curls around the stand. "I'm not sure what Carrie knew what she was getting herself into when she asked me to give a speech today. I'm not a comedian like our older brother, so I can't make you all laugh until your sides hurt, and I'm no poet like our father, so please put your tissues and handkerchiefs back in your pockets, but what I can do is list all of Carrie's amazing qualities that will make her the greatest wife of all time." You release the microphone and reach into your bodice, pulling out a folded napkin you had hidden before your turn. "So," you clear your throat, unfolding the blank napkin, "Carrie is...she..." Guests laugh as you squint at the napkin, pulling it closer to your face. "Hmm," you fold the napkin back up and stuff it into your dress, "I guess I won't be doing that then."

"As kids, we hated each other, and I think that was because of our two very contrasting personalities. Carrie was a loud-mouthed, bitchy psychopath, and I was just perfect, but as we got older, Carrie was like a fucking rockstar to me. I wanted to be just like her. I wanted to dip my toes into every pond that she jumped into. I wanted to be able to craft the perfect lie to our parents, only for it to all fall apart at the very last second. Our parents told my sister that she could not go to any senior prom after parties and like the crafty genius Carrie was, she told our parents that she was stuck in traffic for three whole hours. And she would've got away with it if our next door neighbour hadn't found her upside down in his hedge."

You smile up at your sister as you turn to her again, who was already dabbing her eyes with a napkin. "Carrie became my metaphorical flight attendant, always there to warn me that life will come with turbulence, but that I should never panic because life will always have a way of working itself out. When I was given the opportunity to move out of the country, Carrie was the first person who told me to grasp it with both hands and never let it go. She'll be your biggest supporter..." Your voice cracks and she blows a kiss in your direction, which only makes it easier for the tears to escape. "...even when you're making questionable decisions, and I am entirely grateful to have you as my big sister."

"Now, Daveed," you address your brother-in-law, giggling as he hides his face behind a napkin, "when I first met you, I was confused." He laughs louder than the rest of the guests, a laugh so infectious it has you laughing along with him. "I was confused because I couldn't understand how someone could be so selfless and loving as you are, without there being some other ulterior motives. But meeting Carrie was the best decision you have ever made. Before you, Carrie was like that one troll who lived under a bridge in every fairytale you read as a kid. She had a heart as cold as ice when it came to love, and I honestly believed she would grow old with seventy cats. But your ever-giant loving heart has transformed her into the beautiful princess you see sitting before you today. But, you know what they say if you can't handle her at her worst, then you don't deserve to her at her best, and I don't think there is anyone more deserving of Carrie's love and terrible cooking than you, Daveed. It's been such an honour and joy to welcome you into our circus of freaks, and I'm happy that we didn't scare you off."

"So, I'll leave you with this: when I think about the greatest love stories of all time, I used to think of Paris and Helen of Troy, a love so great it started a war, but now I can only think of yours." You reach to retrieve your champagne, raising the glass into the air, signaling others to copy. "So, if you could kindly join me in raising a toast to the happy couple," your eyes flick over to Christian, another flood of warmth spilling through you as the subtle smile before now reached his eyes, before guiltily panning your eyes over to Ty as you say, "may we all have a love story as great as theirs."

———————

"Cute speech-"

"Don't tease me-"

"I'm not..." Christian breaks your bickering with a harsh sigh. "I wasn't teasing you. I was being nice." You raise your eyebrows and make a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. "I can be nice," he rolls his eyes, backing you against the gazebo, the old stone cold and rough against your skin. He dips his lips against your neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses against your warm skin. "I can be really nice," he chuckles, biting down and sucking on your collarbone.

"Christian, don't!" You groan, but your warning was futile. He pulls back to inspect his art and you wince as he grazes his finger over the bruise. You push him away and cover the spot with your hand; there was no lie big enough to cover this one up. Not from Ty. And especially not from your family. You hadn't let Ty do more than kiss your cheek in the presence of them all weekend. "Why do you always have to do that?"

"Because I like to mark the things that belong to me."

"I'm not yours," you bite back, but the possessive tone in his voice floods your belly with heat.

"Yes, you are." Your fingers fist tightly into his ear as he presses his mouth against your neck and grazes his tongue against it. "Say it," he demands to hear the words that now made his heart stutter. His hands skimmed up your arms, over your shoulders, and cradled the sides of your neck, tipping your head back as he pulled away to look at you. There was an emotion in his eyes that you couldn't read, a strange mix of hunger and longing. "Tell me you're mine."

"No."

He frowns, chasing your lips as you turn your head. "Come on, say it."

"You say it," you counter, the words coming out more like a plea. Just once, you wanted to hear him say it, even if you knew he didn't mean it. You were too far deep into this mess that even a lie would make you happy. "Say you're mine," you bring his mouth closer to yours, "please, say it."

He hesitates and whispers, "I'm...not yours." Your heart cracks. Of course, he wasn't going to say it. He only wanted you for the thrill of sleeping with another's girlfriend, you knew he would never want you for your heart.

"We should go back inside," you cast your eyes off to the side. He whispers something about not being finished with you yet, but you find the strength to push him away. "Chris, if someone comes to look for me-"

He silences you with a scoff. "And by someone you mean Mr. Boring?"

"Leave him alone."

"He's pathetic, Y/N, when are you going to see that?" He snaps back at you, his face only inches from yours. You press your back further into the wall of the gazebo, trying to create some space between you. "That whole good guy act he performs for everybody?" He pulls a face of disgust. "He's got your parents wrapped around his little finger with that one."

"It's not an act!" You reply through gritted teeth. Though you didn't love Ty anymore, you still felt obligated to stick up for him. "He is a good guy, Christian, but you wouldn't know that because you have never taken the time to get to know him! Perhaps you should've, maybe then you would've seen what it looks like to have heart."

Your words make him take a step back. "I have a heart," he dismisses your claim.

You take a step forward and press your finger against the centre of his chest. "This?" He winces as you jab your finger harder against his chest. "This is empty! Barren! Incapable of feeling any emotion!"

He bats your hand away. "Before you start accusing me of anything, sweetheart, perhaps you should take a long hard look in the mirror," he counters, his voice laced with bitterness, "remember, I'm not the one fucking another guy behind my boyfriend's back." He watches your mouth open and close, swallowing your breath as your eyes widen. "What's the matter, baby?" He mocks. "Don't you like being reminded of the truth?"

Behind, standing only a few feet away, Ty looked on at the two of you, the colour draining from his cheeks until he was no whiter than the shirt he wore. When you hadn't returned from your room, Ty had gotten worried, but when there was no sign of you in your hotel room and someone had mentioned seeing you going outside, he wasn't prepared to see you and Christian together. He had just heard the end when you had clocked him approaching.

"Ty," you whisper his name, bottom lip trembling as the first cracks in your perfectly constructed lie begin to show.

He looks between you and Christian, his eyes landing on your collarbone as you step around the obstacle between you. For a moment there's a flicker of anger, but it sizzles away and morphs into pain. That hickey was an answer to a question he didn't even need to ask. A question he didn't want to ask.

"Ty, this isn't-"

"Please, don't," he held up his hand to stop you, "please don't be one of those people who try to say it isn't what I think it is. I heard him, Y/N, I heard what he said." You bite your lip and nod your head, deciding not to inflict any further damage. What use was there in lying to him anymore? "I guess I should've known something was off between us when we stopped having sex," Ty sniffles, fighting back tears, "something like that just doesn't stop without there being a reason."

Christian sniggered from behind you. "I can promise you she was well cared for." Ty glanced over at him, making it known that he had heard him but pulled his attention back to you. "Wow! Really?" He lets out a surprised laugh. "I just told you I'm fucking your girlfriend and you don't even react." He takes a step forward and firmly presses his body against yours. His hand sits on your hip, pinning you to the spot on which you stood. It was like he was saying I won to Ty without really ever really saying it. "You know, whilst you were tucked into bed last night, I was tucked into her-"

"That's enough!"

"No, no, no, no," Christian tuts, shaking his head, "Ty has to know the truth."

"I've heard enough."

He looks up at Ty. "You sure?" He gives him the biggest grin he can muster up. One that could've earned him a hard blow to the face if Ty had been anyone else. "Don't you want me to remind you of what it feels like to have her lips wrapped around your cock? Or describe the sound she makes when she cums?"

Ty ignores him and fishes something from the inside pocket of his blazer. "I thought you were my forever, but I guess we were on different pages," he steps forward and presses something small into the palm of your hand, "give this back to Nelly for me." You look down into your hand, your heart shattering when you recognise the dainty piece of silver to be your grandmother's ring. It was a thin band of silver with a small emerald gem passed down from mother to daughter. The perfect ring, you had once told Ty after he spotted it in a photograph of you and your grandmother. "I don't think I'll be needing it anymore, do you?"

The ring disappears into the palm of your hand as you fold your fingers into a tight fist. It symbolised everything you wanted out of life: true happiness and everlasting love. So as you held it against your chest, you foolishly believed that if you held it there for long enough, it might mend the fractured pieces of your heart. And as you looked up to say one last goodbye to the kindest man who woke up every day with nothing but love in his heart, you discovered he was already gone. You could just see his silhouette disappearing back into the ballroom.

Christian had just caught a glimpse of the silver band over your shoulder. Seeing the dainty piece of metal had left him with a sour taste in his mouth, and knowing it had been temporarily in Ty's possession set a new kind of anger coursing through his veins, making his skin hot as it boiled his blood. "Why did you tell him about Nelly's ring?" He asked, seeking the truth to a matter that shouldn't have taken precedence over the giant tears streaming down your cheeks. "What did he do to deserve to know about Nelly's ring?"

"He loved me," you choke on your sobs, "and maybe you don't recall it, but there was a time when I loved him."

"You never loved him," he dismisses another one of your claims.

"Do not think for a second that you claim to know the names that I hold dear to my heart!" You glance over your shoulder and see no sympathy in his golden eyes. You were broken, and yet here he stood, all intact. He didn't care. "I loved him," you repeat yourself, "and he loved me."

Christian leaned back against the gazebo, ignoring the strange pang of guilt in his chest. "Yeah," he casts his eyes down at his shirt, fixing one of the buttons, as he says, "but then you slept with me, and I opened your eyes to a new world of possibilities." Your face twists with a sour expression. "Oh, come on, don't look at me like that," he chuckles dryly, "I just saved you from a boring marriage and your inevitable-" The rest of his words are knocked from his mouth as you drag your hand across his face, connecting your palm to his cheek with a loud slap.

"Y/N!?" Someone shouts your name, but you don't look back to see who.

Instead, you stumble away from Christian, the same hand you had slapped him with now covering your mouth. "Shit!" It's muffled by your hand, but your wide eyes connect with his even bigger eyes, and you are both stunned into silence. You couldn't believe it. "I-I..." You bring both hands over your mouth, shaking your head. "I'm so sorry," you repeat like a broken record as fresh tears break from your eyes, "I-I didn't mean to do that."

Christian rubs his hand against his cheek and moves his head away from Kelley, who had been the voice shouting at you only moments ago. She had stepped outside to catch a few minutes of air, becoming a witness to the fallout of the disaster that was unfolding around you.

Kelley looks between the two of you. On one side, she has her son, his cheek red with the imprint of your hand, and on the other, she has a shadow of your former self. She takes a deep breath and turns to you first, offering a sympathetic smile as she asks, "Y/N, sweetie, what's going on?"

Growing up, Kelley had been like a second mother to you. You had lost count of the times she had patched up your knees after you had scraped them from falling over. Christian was forever on the move, and you just wanted to keep up with him. It didn't matter how fast he got as the two of you got older, you were there running behind him, and Kelley was behind you with a band-aid in her hand. So, any other time you might have opened up to her, but you couldn't force yourself to tell her.

You look past her and at Christian. "I'm sorry," you mouth your apology.

"Just..." He lets out a sigh, watching you slip away, the end of the dress bunched in your hands so you wouldn't trip over it as you made your sudden escape. "Just let her go, Mom," Christian mumbles, the stinging in his cheek subsiding, making it easier for him to move his jaw. He knew deep down he deserved that slap. If his goading hadn't done enough to provoke a reaction from Ty, he should've guessed that it might've come from you instead. He casts his eyes down at the ground as he straightens up. "I don't want to talk about it-"

"You don't get a choice," Kelley stops him. There was a sternness to her voice that made him shiver. It was the kind she saved only for when she was disappointed in him. "Well?" He finally looks up but quickly looks away again when he isn't met with the usual warmth of her eyes. "Start talking, Christian, before I go and ask the poor girl myself."

"She and Ty broke up," he raises his shoulder on one side.

She raised her eyebrows, sensing there was more he wasn't telling her. "She slapped you because Ty and her broke up?"

"No, Mom, she slapped me because I asked her to," he replies, stuffing one hand into his pocket. At any other time, he would've been on the receiving end of a look of disapproval for using sarcasm against her, but Kelley just sighed. "Ty," he thinks carefully about his words, wanting to tell her the truth without admitting his own sins, "Ty found out she was sleeping with someone behind his back."

Kelley blinked twice. You were having an affair? The very same girl who was too afraid to get in trouble at school? The girl who did everything to keep her grades above a B? The one everyone said had a heart of gold? She didn't believe it. There was no way you could've done something as heartless as this. "An affair?" She shakes her head. "I don't believe you. Not Y/N."

He scrunches his face. "Why, because she's so perfect?" He rolls his eyes at the ground. "Not everyone is as perfect as you might think, Mom, not even me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Really?" He looks in her direction, greeted by a look of mixed emotions on her face. He didn't want to insult her intelligence, but it only took the smallest amount of common sense to figure out what possible role he had to play in all of this. "Doesn't a part of you wonder why I was out here? How I came to be the only other person to see it happen?"

As the pieces of the puzzle slowly clicked together, she could only show her disappointment in her eyes and through the way she spoke. "Christian..."

"What, Mom? What?" He takes a step back, removing himself from her path. His heart was racing rapidly in his chest, the blood pumping hard and thick in his ears. The air around him felt thicker like it was trying to suffocate him. "What do you want me to say?" He loosened his tie, pulling on the knot until he felt like he could breathe again. What was happening to me? He thought to himself, wiping his sweaty palm down his thigh. "That I regret it because I don't."

"How can you say that?" She asks, bewildered by his reaction. "How do you not regret what you've done? You've destroyed a relationship, Christian!"

"It wasn't just me, Mom; she destroyed it too!" He pulls his tie off, wrapping the slim black piece of material around his fingers. "I...She..." The tips of his fingers slowly change colour as he tightens his tie. "Maybe it would be different if she loved the guy, but she didn't. She's just another liar." He sighs, glancing up at the roof of the gazebo. "We both are."

"Do you love her?"

Yes.

"Love her?" He unravels the tie before it cuts the circulation to his fingers and switches to wrapping it around the other. He scoffs to hide the quiver in his voice. "Why would I love her?"

"Because I can't think of a good reason for why you could do something so stupid, Christian," she scolds him, lifting her hand into the air like she was signalling an end to their conversation. She couldn't bare to hear him talk this way anymore. This wasn't the boy she had raised. "If any part of you loves that girl-"

"I don't."

I do.

She holds his head firmly in her hands, keeping his eyes on hers. In his eyes, she sees the truth. She sees the fear. She sees it all. "Just shut up and listen," he gulps down a large breath of air, subtly nodding his head, "if any part of you loves that girl, then you need to fix this."

"I can't fix it," he chews his bottom lip, "she won't believe me."

"You won't know unless you try," she offers a watery smile, "if you don't fix this, then you'll lose her for good, and that's when you'll finally regret it." She wipes away a tear he didn't even know was there. "Go," she encourages him, "before it's too late."

———————

All traces of Ty had been removed from your room when you returned. A note saying, "I'm sorry I wasn't enough," was all that was left for you to find. It brought a fresh wave of tears crashing down your cheeks, and through watery eyes, you tore yourself out of your dress and packed your bag. You could apologise to your sister later, maybe even tell her the truth and risk her judging you for your heartless mistakes, but right now, you had to leave.

Pulling on the zip, you close your bag and set it down at the foot of your bed. You ignored the first knock as you checked the contents of your second bag, checking to make sure you had packed the things you would need the most, like your passport. You couldn't run away without it. But the second and then the third knock became harder to ignore, and the courage you had built up in the process of getting ready to leave crumbled when you opened the door to find Christian standing on the other side.

"Whatever you're doing, don't do it." There's no apology, no simple hello, just another demand to do something that he wanted. You take a step back, and he mistakes it for an invitation to come inside. He walks by the foot of your bed, and the thought of you sharing it with Ty tightens his chest. "Stay," he says, his words almost sounding like a plea.

"I can't stay-'

"Yes, you can!" He talks over you, trying to force his side of the argument. "You and Ty are over, so what?" You gasp at his insensitivity. "Why should that mean we have to stop having fun?"

"Fun?" You repeat back to him. The pain simmering in the pit of your stomach forces your voice to crack. "It was 'fun' for the first few times it happened, but then it just became something you could torture me with." The corners of your eyes grow wet with new tears. "As soon as you knew that there was a chance that I had developed an attachment to you, you twisted it to your own advantage. You knew I would never say no to you, but here I am, finally telling you no."

"I can't let you go," he whispers, shaking his head in disbelief.

You chew your bottom lip. The only way you could move on from this is if you let him go. "You have to," you sniffle, wiping your eyes. He wasn't worth anymore of your tears.

"But I...But I..." He tries to force the truth, but his throat grows dry, and only a strangled cry of frustration makes its way out. "I don't want this to be over for us. I thought you loved me?"

"I do," your heart shatters as his eyes fill with tears, and you have to force yourself into not moving, "I love you more than you could ever know, but I can't love a guy who doesn't love me back. My heart is damaged, Chris, and I don't know what state you'll leave it in when you've decided it's time to move on. I have accepted that you will never love me! I have accepted that there will be no happy ending for us! That our love story is a tragedy Shakespeare wishes he could've penned. So, please, do the honourable thing and let me go!"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I love you!" He snaps, with every ounce of emotion bursting out of his chest, shouting his confession across the room. The features on his face soften. His puffy eyes swell with giant tears. His bottom lip trembles. "I love you," he repeats, and you're stunned into silence. His voice cracks and fresh tears wet his cheeks, no longer having the strength to fight them back. "I've tried my hardest not to love you. I have slept with other women to make myself forget about you, but they are not you. Their skin doesn't feel as soft as yours. They don't taste as sweet as you. They are not the angel whose name my very soul calls for! Their names are not tattooed on the inner walls of my heart!"

He draws his hands against the centre of his chest, digging his fingers into his flesh like he was trying to rip his heart from the cage it was once locked inside. "Do you not see how I am scared to let my heart win?" He hopelessly cries out, tasting the saltiness of his tears as they land on his lips, "I am scared because I already know that I have the power to harm you." He takes a step back, dropping his arms either side. "I have harmed you." His voice is laced with guilt. "I have broken your heart time and time again, and yet you stand here and tell me you still love me? How? Why?"

You shrug your shoulders. "Maybe this is how love is supposed to be."

"I don't know much about love, but I know it's never meant to be this cruel," he replies, disagreeing with you, "you love a monster, Y/N."

"A monster?" You scoff and he nods. "If you are a monster then what does that make me, Christian? All you did was sleep with another man's girlfriend. I lied to him. I took advantage of him. For nearly two years, I made him believe that I loved him. Two years! Two fucking years!" You force yourself to laugh, but it's empty and lacks any genuine emotion. "My heart must either be as black as charcoal or as cold as ice to be capable enough of doing that to someone whose heart is filled with nothing but pure love."

Through the crack in the opened window, you could hear the muffled sound of laughter and cheers. A pang of guilt settles in your chest knowing that you had missed your sister's first dance and the cutting of the cake. You had missed the chaos of your baby cousins running around, high on sugar, and your parents' terrible dancing. You had missed jokes and the opportunities to create new memories. You had missed it all just so you could try and find a solution to the destruction that you were to blame for.

You suck in a deep breath. "I was just going to leave, you know," you tell him the truth, nudging your foot against the side of your bag, "get a cab to the airport and get the first flight available to, I don't know, Greece or Italy. Filling myself up with good food and flooding my veins with multiple bottles of good wine seemed like the better idea. I was going to run away from it all: from the heartbreak, from Ty, from my family-"

"From me," Christian mumbles, with fresh tears in his eyes. You blink back tears as you nod your head, confirming his suspicion. For a split second, he smiles, but it's lopped-sided and sad. He sniffles and wipes his cheeks. "What do we do now?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "what do you want to do?"

"Right now, I just want to kiss you."

A bubble of hope formed in his chest as he watched your face crumple. The look of pain in your eyes slowly became one of affection, making his blood buzz with nerves. He could've closed the distance between you, sweep you up into his arms and kiss you like he had never kissed anyone before, but he didn't. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath, and waited for you to give him a sign.

You knew you might one day regret this.

"So kiss me."

Without hesitation, he closes the gap between you, fisting his hand in the back of your hair, and grabbing your hip in the other to pull you towards him. Both of you sink into each other as his mouth worked yours. His kisses were needy and demanding like he was starving for you, and the groan he let out as his tongue moved against yours left every nerve ending in your body ablaze with burning pleasure. He tasted you again and again until both of you were breathless and your head was spinning.

"I'm sorry," he apologises between kisses, murmuring it against your lips, "before this, before us, you were happy with Ty, but I was a selfish bastard and I tried to have something that wasn't mine. I ruined your chance at true happiness, so I understand if you can't forgive me." His hand that had been fisted in your hair lowered to your face, cradling your cheek, as he brushed the tip of his nose against yours. He wanted to remember this moment, in case it was his last. "I just need you to know that I am sorry for every bit of pain that I have caused you."

"You're right," you hum, looping your arms around his neck, "in the beginning, I was happy, but I was just...happy enough." He makes a humming sound as you massage your fingers against the base of his neck. You study the flecks of amber in his eyes, picturing a version of your life where you could wake up to them every morning, whispering, "but I was always at my happiest when I was with you."

"Me?"

You let out a surprised laugh and step further into his space. His mouth is so close to yours, only inches away, and with one finger, you trace it along his bottom lip. His eyes fall shut at your touch and you listen to the hum he makes with a small smile. Tonight you had gotten to see a whole new side to him, one that was softer and not afraid to be vulnerable with his feelings. A side to him you had only ever dreamt about.

"Do you really love me?" You ask, with your lips hovering below his.

"Yes," he answers, hooking his fingers under your chin, pulling your mouth against his, and kissing you soft and slow. He smiles against you as he runs his hand down the front of your body, his fingers brushing gently over your breast. "Why don't you let me show you how much I love you?" He talks against your mouth, pressing his hand firmly against your body, caressing you through your top. His lips trail open-mouthed kisses along your neck, following the path he had created earlier.

You press your hand against his shoulder and push him away. "Not tonight," you tell him, seeing the worry in his eyes, "I believe, even if I shouldn't." Removing his hand from your chest, you bring the inside of his wrist against your lips. The soft kiss against his skin makes his heart stutter. "But I don't want us to have sex tonight."

"No sex, okay," he nods, pecking your lips, "then what do you want?"

"I want room service, one of those crappy romantic comedies you like," you giggle as he mumbles under his breath about them not being 'crappy,' "and to fall asleep with my head on your chest, if that's okay with you?"

He cradles your face and brushes his thumb along your cheek. "And then tomorrow we're going to Italy."

"Italy?"

"Yes," he hums, skimming his thumb along your smile, "you said you wanted to run away, so let's do it together." He brings you closer and whispers, "I love you," before kissing you.

———————

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