#chelsea fc fanfiction | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kepamount · 1 year

Text

clueless

mason mount x reader one shot - fake dating, smut and fluff

warnings: explicit smut, unprotected sex, virgin reader, first time sex, dom!mason and sub!reader, dirty talk, praise and degradation, body worship, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, overstimulation, I think that's it but pls lmk if I missed anything!

word count: 18.1k+ (she's a mammoth, ofc)

a/n: this is unedited and it’s also 2 different wips mashed together so pls forgive any mistakes or inconsistencies, i’ll edit this tomorrow! happy valentine's day! ik i've been very quiet recently but i'm gifting you guys with this to make up for it! the buildup is very long but the smut is hopefully worth it lol, it's very soft by my usual standard but i think you guys will still like it! lmk what you think <3

‘You’re late,’ I say as I open the front door, not bothering to welcome him in before I turn and head back into the kitchen, his amused chuckling making me roll my eyes. I continue with the washing up, hearing him shut the front door and enter the kitchen a few moments later.

‘You’re late too. I said to be ready for half past. It’s quarter to and you’re still washing up,’ he points out, helping himself to a cookie from the jar on the counter before sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar. ‘I only started washing up because you weren’t here yet. What do you expect me to do? Sit by the door waiting for you?’ I ask without looking at him, washing the dishes with vigour to get my irritation out. ‘Yeah. That’s exactly what I expect,’ he responds, smirk audible in his voice, and I look over my shoulder to shoot him a death stare, looking at him properly for the first time.

Annoyingly, he looks as handsome as he always does, dressed in a pair of baby blue joggers and a white t-shirt with some obscure designer logo on it. His beard is at the perfect length, and so is his hair, fluffy and soft-looking. His skin is just about holding onto its tan from the World Cup and he looks like he’s been spending a lot of time in the gym, clothes tighter around his muscles than they used to be.

‘Can we go? As nice as the view is from here, I don’t want to spend my day off watching you wash up,’ he says impatiently, his demand annoying me so much that I almost don’t notice the comment on my ass. ‘Maybe if you hadn’t been late,’ I say irritably, rinsing off the last dish before washing my hands and drying them, the boy eating another cookie.

‘Stop eating all my cookies,’ I snap, so close to snatching it out of his hand, and he rolls his eyes before finishing it off. ‘I’ll buy you more.’ ‘I made them myself.’ ‘Oh, so that’s why they taste like shit then,’ he grins, and I take a deep breath to compose myself, heading towards the front door before I put his head through my kitchen wall.

I sit down on the bottom step of the staircase to put my boots on, doing up the zip slowly so I don’t catch my socks in it (it’s happened one too many times, and I’m sick of having holey socks). I’m wearing an outfit inspired by Clueless – a white bodycon ribbed dress with a thin pink cardigan over the top of it, and white knee high boots that add a couple extra inches to my height.

I check my reflection in the mirror beside the front door, Mason leaning against the doorframe and inspecting his nails in a way that indicates how bored he is waiting for me, and I make sure my phone, keys, lipgloss and powder are all in my little white Hermes Kelly bag before I turn to face him.

‘Ready?’ Mason asks, not waiting for an answer before he opens the door and walks out. Chivalry is dead. I lock up behind us, the boy already sat in the car by the time I head down the patio steps, and I’m surprised when he at least has the courtesy to push open the passenger side door for me. The kindness of the gesture is lost when the door hits me and nearly knocks me over, Mason laughing uncontrollably as I scowl at him.

I climb into the car, shutting the door behind me before adjusting the seat to my liking. He starts the engine, racing out of my driveway as I connecting my phone with Bluetooth to the car. He doesn’t say anything but his pursed lips say everything for him – he’s always complaining about my passenger-princess tendencies. I shuffle my Summer Walker playlist, Mason groaning when the opening notes of ‘Tonight’ start playing out of the speakers on either side of us. He skips it, but when he realises the next song’s Summer as well, he doesn’t bother trying to turn it off, letting me skip it back to the last song.

‘All you listen to is RnB. Doesn’t it get boring?’ he grumbles as I sing along obnoxiously loud, flexing my vocals by acing Summer’s runs. ‘Better than the music you listen to.’ ‘I listen to music by people that you’re friends with.’ ‘That’s beside the point. They might be my friends but I can acknowledge that their music is not good.’ ‘It’s not a flex to have no taste.’

‘I know you, a footballer, are not trying to tell me, a singer-songwriter, about music taste. I don’t try and tell you about… football stuff,’ I say pointedly, and he shoots me a side-eye. ‘Because you haven’t got a clue about football.’ ‘Neither do you but I don’t say shit,’ I say sweetly, getting a half-hearted dirty look in response.

‘What are we doing today?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘You haven’t planned anything?’ I ask jokingly, and he doesn’t even dignify it with a response, both of us knowing fully well that I always plan our dates. ‘It’s Valentine’s next week. You have to plan that at least,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes at the reminder. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I’m sick of always planning our dates! You’re the boy. You should take responsibility for date planning, not me.’ ‘How feminist of you,’ he says sarcastically, and I scoff. ‘Feminism’s about choice, and I choose to be treated like a princess by my boyfriend.’ ‘Maybe you should find a real boyfriend instead then,’ he says dryly, and I let out an irritated huff.

Mason is my fake boyfriend – our agents work for the same company and thought it would be mutually beneficial for us to be in a PR relationship. For me, they thought dating Chelsea and England’s starboy would only boost me to higher levels of fame and introduce me and my music to an entirely new audience, and they were right – I never thought I’d have Chelsea fans asking me for photos outside Stamford Bridge before matches.

Mason, however, is getting a lot more out of this than I am. In the last year or so, he’s been getting a bit of a negative reputation – being pictured with influencer girlies, hanging with the wrong crowd, getting drunk a bit too often, not to mention the dip in his form on the pitch. His agent decided to find him a good, clean-cut girlfriend who would lead him back onto the straight and narrow, as well as help to change the minds of Chelsea fans who think he’s a lazy waste of space.

My reputation is perfect to improve Mason’s. I’ve never been involved in any kind of controversy and I’m always on my best behaviour when I’m out in public. On top of that, I went on a friend’s podcast about a year ago, and when the conversation turned to NDAs and celebrity flings, I confessed that I’ve never dated and I’m a virgin. All of a sudden, I became the nation’s sweet, pure and innocent sweetheart. I hate to benefit from the patriarchy but my virginal status has made me a supposed ‘good role model’ for the young girls of today, so my fanbase has increased drastically.

‘Maybe I will. Then you can kiss your improved reputation goodbye.’ ‘More than I can do to you. Maybe then I can find a less boring fake girlfriend. Someone who’s actually been touched by a man before,’ he says pointedly, bringing up the contract I made him sign despite his reluctance for the thousandth time.

Mason and I actually knew each other before this whole thing started – we ran in the same social circles, and we always got along relatively well. But, as soon as I laid out the rules about what he could and couldn’t do with me, things quickly went sour in our relationship.

Because the entire world thinks he’s dating me, he’s not allowed to flirt/date/kiss/sleep with any other girls – it would only tarnish his reputation even more if it got out, defeating the point of this relationship. I assume he thought I’d sleep with him (so that he’d still be getting some), so he didn’t take it well at all when I told him I didn’t even want him to kiss me, let alone sleep with me.

He thought I was being unreasonable, and that no one would believe we were together if there wasn’t any PDA, but I thought it was perfectly reasonable that I didn’t want to waste all my firsts on a fake boyfriend– I just about allowed him to hold my hand or put his hand on my lower back (not too low though). As time’s gone on, we’ve been getting along less and bickering more, so now he barely even does those things. It’s like he hates touching me – he practically jumps a mile in the air whenever our arms brush against each other. It doesn’t bother me much though – I’d much rather be touched by a man that actually wants to touch me.

‘You need to tell me what we’re doing so I know which way to go,’ he says, coming to a stop at a junction. ‘The Vault. I need to get my nails done, and do some shopping.’ ‘You’re having a laugh. You basically want me to be your taxi driver and bag-holder today. That’s not a date,’ he says, sounding outraged, and I roll my eyes. ‘We can go for dinner there too. And anyway, celeb couples always go shopping together,’ I say mildly, the boy still shaking his head despite how he takes the turning for the route to The Vault, a designer outlet around five minutes away from my house.

He drives in a stony silence but I don’t let his bad mood dampen my good one, still singing along to Summer Walker and watching the world pass us by out the window. This weather is still freezing at the moment but it’s a beautiful day regardless of the temperature. The sky’s a lovely clear blue, not a cloud in sight, and the sun is beating down brightly.

It’s not long until we arrive at the shopping centre, and Mason pulls up in front of the main entrance, both of us getting out of the car. Mason grabs a matching baby blue hoodie out of the boot before handing the valet the keys while I fix my skirt, making sure I look picture perfect.

He waits for me to join him, offering his hand reluctantly, and I take it, letting him lock his fingers with mine. We walk through the automatic doors into the warmth of The Vault, and I let out a happy sigh. I love this place so much – the fluffy carpets, comfy chaise lounge chairs and crystal chandeliers everywhere scream luxury.

‘Where to first?’ Mason asks, and I point towards the directory stand, the nail shop on the third floor. He leads me to the lift, letting me in first and pressing the buttons so I don’t have to get my hands dirty. He’s lacking in a lot of things, but he’s always a gentleman in public, and I appreciate it even if it is just for the eyes of everyone else.

When we enter the nail shop, whispers run around the room. It tends to be only rich people that shop at The Vault, but it’s not every day that two international stars walk in together. ‘y/n, darling! How are you?’ my nail tech asks, appearing from the back room to come and give me a hug. ‘I’m good, Christie. How are you?’ ‘I’m good, my love. So introduce me then,’ she prompts, not one for subtlety, and I cringe internally as I say, ‘this is my boyfriend, Mason. Mase, this is Christie, my nail tech.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ he says with a brilliant smile, his charming behaviour making me supress an eyeroll. I never get this charming side – he reserves it for everyone else, and I get the annoying dickhead side instead. ‘Such a good-looking boy,’ Christie says to me, and I force out a little laugh, making myself nod in agreement. ‘Not as good-looking as my girlfriend, though,’ he jokes naturally with a little smile at me, affection in his eyes, and I’m taken aback at how good his acting is.

‘Of course, of course. Now, come, let’s get started,’ Christie says, leading us to her table in the corner, everyone’s eyes following us across the room. I take a seat, hanging my bag on the chair, and Mason hovers awkwardly beside me. ‘Sit here, Mase,’ I say, motioning to the seat beside me, but he shakes his head. ‘I’m gonna do some shopping. I’ll be back in a bit,’ he says, and I feel a little bit guilty for dragging him here.

‘You can… go, if you want. I’ll get Isla to pick me up later,’ I say, but he waves it off immediately. ‘Nah, it’s fine, I don’t mind looking around the shops. I’ll be back soon, alright?’ he says, and I nod, mustering up a smile for him as he goes. The other girls in the shop watch him as he walks to the exit, sparking jealousy in me, followed by surprise at myself. I don’t know what’s wrong with me but the thought of these other girls fancying him makes me rage internally.

Christie starts removing my old set, distracting me as she chatters away about the latest drama in her tumultuous life. Last time I saw her, she was dating a Brighton player, but now apparently she’s moved on from him and she’s got a Kpop boy in her DMs. I get my nails done every three weeks, and she has a different love interest every single time.

Mason reappears when Christie’s painting gel polish onto my new set, a smile on his face when I meet his eyes. All the girls are watching him again but his eyes don’t stray from me, satisfaction filling me. Ogle him all you want, ladies, but he’s my fake boyfriend.

He has a Starbucks cup in his hand which he puts down on the table as he sits in the chair beside me. ‘An iced blonde caramel macchiato with soy milk and sugar-free syrup,’ he announces, and I can’t hold back my smile as I look at him in surprise. ‘You remembered my order?’ I ask, and he lets out a laugh. ‘Not off by heart. It’s in my notes app so I don’t have to ask you every time,’ he says, the truth touching me even more. He knew he won’t be able to remember so he made a note of it. It’s sweet.

‘You’re cute, Mount,’ I say affectionately, maybe giving him the first compliment since this relationship began. ‘You’re about to find me even cuter,’ he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bag of gourmet jelly beans that he must have gotten from Selfridges – their confectionary section is massive. ‘Mase,’ I say, dragging the word out in a way that makes him grin.

‘Thought you might want a snack, because you’ve probably only had fruit for breakfast,’ he says, knowing me so well, and I roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, because jelly beans are really gonna make up for a light breakfast.’ ‘Better than nothing.’ ‘I suppose. Thank you,’ I say, leaning towards him and planting a kiss on his cheek, the boy raising an eyebrow when I pull away. I only save cheek kisses for when he’s not being at all irritating, and he knows that. The smirk on his face clearly means he’s satisfied at being in my good books for once.

Christie has one of my hands in the UV nail lamp and the other in her hand, intricately painting on a heart, so I can’t pick up the drink. I lean towards it to try and take a sip but it’s a little too far away, and I don’t want to move too much for fear of getting told off by Christie (the woman doesn’t play). ‘Here,’ Mason says, lifting the cup and holding it to me. I take a long sip through the straw, our eyes locked together, and I feel weirdly shy under his gaze, dropping eye contact after a few moments. He lets out a soft chuckle, amused at my nerves.

Come on, bitch, pull yourself together. Don’t let Mason Mount get you flustered. ‘Want a jelly bean?’ he asks and I nod, Mason opening the packet and getting one out. I stick my tongue out, and he falters for a moment, victory filling me. He puts the jelly bean on my tongue, eyes on mine, and I take the jelly bean into my mouth, chewing it with a small smile, the boy rolling his eyes.

We go on like that while Christie does my nails, Mason feeding me jelly beans (whilst eating more than double the amount I do) and holding up my drink for me to have a sip every couple minutes, his phone in his hand as he scrolls distractedly through tiktok. We start an unspoken game, trying to get each flustered and seeing who can hold eye contact longer. I hate to admit it, but he’s definitely winning, and it really pisses me off.

Yes, I’m a virgin, but I still own and use my sexuality – I might know nothing about the actual act of sex but I know how to make a guy want it. Before I was with Mason, I’d get a kick out of leading on these rich and famous guys only to leave them hanging. Not over a long time, of course. Just for a couple hours at parties or in the club. There’s something so fun about letting a guy think he’s gonna get to take you home but leaving with your girls instead. It’s always the same, with prolonged eye contact, suggestive actions (putting on lipgloss or sipping a drink with puckered lips through a straw), and light physical contact. But Mason’s never fallen prey to any of that – he’s never tried it on with me.

I suppose it’s a good thing, because he’s really fucking annoying and I don’t want to sleep with him. We’re at a mutual agreement that this is nothing more than a fake relationship and all we have to do is tolerate each other, so it’d ruin that if either of us ever tried to make it something more. Not that either of us want to, of course. We literally can’t stand each other.

‘Shall I add his initials?’ Christie asks, breaking me out of my thoughts, and it takes me a moment to register her question. In that moment, Mason answers for me. ‘Yeah, add my initials,’ he grins, and I barely stop myself from shooting him a dirty look. ‘Shall I do it on your ring finger?’ she asks, and I cringe internally. I’m about to get the initials of a guy who doesn’t see me romantically painted on my ring finger nail. The finger I’m supposed to save for an engagement ring.

‘Um… do his initials on the right ring finger, and his number on the left ring finger. 19,’ I say – it doesn’t make much of a difference but it feels better than the other option. The base colour of my nails is nude, and the hearts are white and pink. Christie uses white to paint his number onto the pink heart on my left ring fingernail, and pink to paint his initials onto the white heart on my right ring fingernail. I hate to admit it but it looks really cute, and I get a warm feeling in my chest at having a boys’ initials on my nails, even if they are Mason’s.

‘Kimmy! Come and get some photos of her nails,’ Christie says, the social media girl rushing over with her phone. She has me putting my hands in different positions and angles, finally satisfied after five minutes of pictures and videos. Mason’s waiting for me beside the door with my bag and my drink in his hands, and I rush over, quickly saying goodbye to the other technicians.

‘£120, like usual?’ I ask Christie as I take my drink from Mason, the boy still holding my bag, and Christie shakes her head. ‘Your boyfriend paid already,’ she says before bidding me goodbye and disappearing off into the back. ‘You shouldn’t have p-’ ‘It’s fine. I made you get my initials so it’s only right,’ he says offhandedly, and I raise an eyebrow, a small smile on my lips. ‘It’s okay if you wanted to pay for them. You can just admit it,’ I joke, and he rolls his eyes.

‘It’s your Valentine’s present,’ he says, my jaw dropping. ‘You’d better be joking,’ I say threateningly, a small grin on his face. ‘I’m joking. I’ve already got your gifts, babe,’ he says easily, taking my hand into his, and I hear lots of ‘aww’s from the girls behind me. ‘Good,’ I reply sternly, letting him lead me out into the corridor, walking leisurely past the shops.

‘We actually do need to plan something for Valentine’s though,’ I say quietly once we’re out of earshot of anyone else, and he remains silent. ‘I know you’d rather not spend a random Tuesday night with me but it looks suspicious if we don’t do anything. And if we don’t plan something, our agents will, and their plans are always boring,’ I continue, met with even more silence. ‘Let’s not do the usual dinner and drinks. We could do an activity instead! Bowling is always cute. Or mini golf, even though I’m shit at it. Maybe even-’ ‘y/n,’ Mason cuts me off, hesitating to continue speaking before he sighs.

‘I’ve already planned Valentine’s,’ he admits, and I stare at him blankly for a long few moments. ‘What?’ ‘I’ve made plans for us already,’ he says, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’ I ask, and he sighs again. ‘I thought I’d surprise you. I heard you talking with Steph about how you’ve never done anything for Valentine’s with a boy, and I know you don’t want to waste all your firsts on a fake boyfriend, but we have to do something on Valentine’s anyway so I thought I’d make it special for you,’ he says quietly, rubbing the back of his neck embarrassedly, and I feel myself melting inside. I think I might even cry.

‘That’s… really nice. Thanks, Mase,’ I say softly, and he just waves off my gratitude, clearly feeling awkward. ‘It’s alright. It was about time I planned a date anyway, so I thought I’d show you how it’s done,’ he jokes, and I shove him lightly, laughing. ‘The dates I plan are always fun!’ ‘Oh, yeah, this date has been really fun,’ he says drily, and I feel a bit sheepish at that. I wanted to piss him off but now I feel guilty.

‘Let’s just go then,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s fine. Do your shopping first.’ ‘It can wait. There’s nothing urgent I need to get,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Where are we gonna go instead?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. ‘Back to mine,’ I say, a smirk finding his lips.

‘Say less.’ ‘Don’t get any ideas,’ I warn, the boy chuckling. ‘What are we gonna do at yours then?’ ‘Valentine’s baking!’ I say excitedly, the boy staring at me deadpan. ‘Baking?’ ‘Yes. You’re always eating my baking so now’s your chance to make up for it and do some baking of your own.’ ‘I’m always eating your baking because that’s what you’re supposed to do with it. Not just let it sit in a jar on your counter until it goes off,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes.

‘Okay, fair point. But speaking of baking going off, those cookies are on their way out so they need replacing,’ I smile, and he just grumbles under his breath. ‘Fine, we’ll go back to your house and do baking, but you owe me a homecooked meal afterwards,’ he bargains. ‘Deal. What do you wanna eat?’ ‘You,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. ‘Other than me,’ I say, and he considers it for a second. ‘Tacos.’ ‘So me and tacos for dinner?’ I ask amusedly, and he laughs, pulling me into his arms. ‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Oh, my feet are killing me,’ I sigh as we walk through my front door, Mason letting go of my hand so I can sit on the bottom step of my staircase. ‘Sorry. I should’ve told you to wear more sensible footwear,’ Mason says as he locks the door after himself, and I shake my head. ‘It’s fine. I would’ve worn these anyway. They’re my V-Day boots!’ I say happily, clicking my heels together.

After finding out I had surprise plans for Valentine’s Day, I bought a new pair of boots for the occasion. I already had a pink mini dress in the exact same shade as the hearts on these white boots, and I was sold the second I saw that the heels are heart-shaped. Mason said it was a bit morbid that every step I took was stamping on hearts, but I thought it was cute.

We’ve been bickering and having stupid arguments all day but, overall, I’ve really enjoyed spending Valentine’s Day with him. He’s been irritating as usual, but he’s also been sweet and romantic as well, which was definitely surprising. I didn’t say anything about it though, because we’re in a good patch at the moment and I don’t want to ruin it.

After he paid for my Valentine’s nails the other day, we come back and baked some Valentine’s cupcakes and cookies. We filmed a vlog for my YouTube channel and Tiktok videos for both of our accounts, like we always do when we do stuff like this. The difference this time was the lack of acting – our affection, flirting and joking together was all real. We bickered, like we always do, but it was light-hearted, and he kept resolving it with stuffing chocolate in my mouth or pulling me into warm hugs.

After baking, I cooked chicken tacos and we sat together at the kitchen island to eat. We chatted idly as we ate, and he actually complimented my cooking. When he got a call from his parents saying they were on their way to his house, the night ended abruptly and, despite my disappointment, I was relieved. I’d felt myself starting to look at him differently and that scared the shit out of me, so I was happy to send him on his way with a box of cupcakes and cookies for his family.

We didn’t speak again after then until last night, when he messaged telling me to be ready for 10am. He showed up on time, with gifts too! I proudly put the bouquet of red and white roses into a vase as he watched with a satisfied grin, making sure to put the single pink rose in the middle. He also insisted on me opening the box of chocolates so I could try one, and it was the best chocolate I’ve ever had. I googled the brand, To-ak, and I couldn’t believe my eyes at the price. He spent £300 on a box of chocolates for me.

We started the day with breakfast at my favourite brunch spot in The Vault. We got one avo-and-egg on toast and one plate of berry pancakes, sharing both dishes like a real couple. Then he drove us into the city for bowling and mini golf – he said he wanted to burst out laughing when I mentioned both of those things at The Vault last week. He tried his best to coach me at both activities (and I had no complaints at his body pressed up behind mine as he guided my movements and held my hands) but he still managed to beat me at both. I didn’t mind though – I would’ve gotten the ick if my athletic fake boyfriend lost to me at bowling and mini golf.

Then we went for Afternoon Tea on Park Lane followed by watching A Midsummer Night’s Dream on the West End. Mason has no interest in theatre but he knows I love it so he sucked it up, and even bought us box tickets so we had a perfect view of the stage. I didn’t even realise I was starting to get cold until I’d shivered, and Mason took his jacket off to lay it across my lap before moving closer to me, wrapping an arm around me to keep me warm.

After the theatre, he took me to dinner at Le Gavroche, an expensive French restaurant. I was too fussy to eat most of the food but I was still more than happy to be there, sitting opposite a pretty boy in a fancy restaurant, flirting over champagne and French cheese. And he got me McDonald’s nuggets on the way home so I wouldn’t complain about being hungry.

Now we’re back at mine. I invited him in, without any reason as to why, but he accepted. We’ve both been so… lovey-dovey and cute today. It’s so weird actually getting along with him but it feels right at the same time, which is scary. Multiple times today, I’ve had to remind myself that our relationship is fake, feeling a jolt at the thought.

‘Who buys new shoes for Valentine’s Day?’ he asks amusedly. ‘Bad bitches,’ I say proudly before trying to take them off. With them being brand new, the zips are very stiff, and I’m holding them at a stupid angle because of my long nails. ‘Let me help,’ Mason laughs after a few seconds of watching me struggle, dropping to one knee and lifting his hands to the top of my left zip. His skin brushes against mine, the contact at my inner thigh making me shiver, and his eyes remain locked with mine as he undoes the zip, carefully pulling the boot off my foot and leaving me in my thigh high socks. He does the same with the other, the completely innocent act making my stomach clench.

He stands up, holding out a hand to help me up, and he keeps my hand in his as he leads me to the kitchen. ‘Don’t tell me you’re hungry,’ I tease, getting a look of feigned offence in response. He ate every last crumb on both of our plates and shared my nuggets with me in the car – the boy can eat but I’ll be shocked if he has any more room.

‘I’m thirsty,’ he says, letting go of my hand to get a glass out of the cupboard, about to pour himself some water. ‘Let’s have some wine,’ I say suddenly, Mason raising an amused eyebrow at me. ‘I have to drive home, and I’ve already at the limit with that champagne,’ he reminds me. ‘You can stay the night. I have a couple guest bedrooms you can choose from,’ I say quietly, his gaze warm on my skin as his grin grows.

‘Yeah?’ he asks, and I nod, struggling to keep eye contact with him, the butterflies in my stomach going wild. I wasn’t even propositioning him – I just thought it’d be nice to finish the day with late night chats over a glass of wine, not a quiet and empty house. ‘Okay, I’ll have some wine.’ ‘Which one do you want?’ I ask, opening my wine cupboard and moving aside to show him. ‘I want the one in the living room,’ he says, and I blink in confusion. ‘Living room?’ ‘Yeah. There’s a bottle of wine in your living room,’ he repeats, and I frown. ‘What? Where?’ I ask, heading towards the living room.

I gasp when I spot the presents on the coffee table, looking back at Mason who grins at me. ‘You didn’t think I just got you flowers and chocolate, did you?’ he asks, looking very proud of himself, and I rush into the living room excitedly, wanting to see my gifts. I take a couple photos first, knowing I’ll want to remember this moment, and he just watches on with a self-satisfied grin. ‘Which one shall I open first?’ I ask, and he points to the bottle bag amusedly, both of us already knowing what it is after what he said.

I get through the gifts pretty quickly in my excitement, tearing the co-ordinated pink wrapping paper and being careful not to drop the confetti and the glitter in each gift bag on the floor. Every single gift is so me; the rosé wine, the pink crystal butterfly hairclips, the signed Summer Walker vinyls, the Huda Beauty pink eyeshadow palette, the pink lego flowers set and the dusty pink knee-high boots with my name printed on the soles. I never realised he knew me so well, but every single gift is perfect. The boots are even my size!

‘One left,’ he says, handing me a pink velvet jewellery box, and my eyes fill with tears before I even open it. ‘y/n, don’t cry!’ he exclaims, alarmed, and I blink back the tears quickly, opening the box with shaking hands. I gasp at the set inside, a hand over my mouth and my eyes wide. ‘It’s called pink sapphire, which I didn’t even know was a thing but, apparently, it is. It’s also custom so I can’t really return it, but I’ll just, like, give it to a charity auction or something if you don’t like it,’ he says, obviously nervous, and I shake my head.

‘I love it, Mason. It’s so beautiful,’ I whisper, already enamoured with the pink sapphire stones set into the pendant on the silver necklace, the silver tennis bracelet and the silver hoops. ‘That’s good then,’ he says, actually letting out a sigh of relief before he helps me put it all on, watching with an affectionate smile as I admire myself in my front camera.

‘This is all too much, Mason. It must have cost you a bomb,’ I say, and he waves off my concerns. ‘It’s fine. I fucked up your birthday so this is the least I could do,’ he says lightly, trying to sound casual, and I try not to laugh at the reminder of the half-dead bouquet of flowers and box of Thorntons chocolates he got for my birthday (I’m not one to sneer at Thorntons – chocolate is chocolate – but it was a Christmas box that was out of date by three years).

‘Well, I got you something too, but don’t get your hopes up too much. They’re not as good as what you’ve got me,’ I warn him, getting up and getting the gift box I hid in the corner of the room, a big grin on his face. Despite my warning, I already know he’s gonna love everything I’ve got him – I’m a very good gift buyer and I’ve been planning this for a while. I may or may not have also put in minimal effort for his birthday and felt bad about it, so I’m trying to make up for it with this.

He looks very happy with the black tracksuit I got from some streetwear brand that him and his friends are all obsessed with, and he’s even happier with the custom silver chain I got from one of my jeweller friends. But his favourite is the blue Van Cleef bracelet, even before he spots the letters of his name engraved on the inside of each clover.

‘You’re sweet,’ he grins, pulling me into his arms and kissing the top of my head, a warm feeling flooding through my body, my heart singing. ‘I’ll get some glasses for the wine,’ I say, rushing back into the kitchen and taking a few seconds to compose myself, staring at my reflection in the fridge.

I’m supposed to hate Mason, or strongly dislike him anyway. But we’ve been getting along, and maybe I don’t dislike him after having such a romantic day with him. Maybe I actually like him a little bit, even more after getting all those thoughtful gifts from him. And maybe he likes me as well. He knows me well, at least, and cared enough to plan a day he knew I’d love and buy me perfect gifts. And now we’re about to sit alone in my living room, drinking rosé wine late at night. This probably isn’t a good idea, but the desire pulsing through my body pushes the hesitation out of my mind.

I bring two wine glasses back into the living room, Mason popping the bottle open and pouring us two half glasses. We clink our glasses together and both take a sip before Mason lifts my legs across his lap, both of us comfortable on the sofa. I sip on my wine as Mason scrolls through Netflix to find something for us to watch, not able to settle on anything. I’m not at all helpful either – I’d much rather sit here and talk to him so I just keep making noncommittal noises when he asks what I want to watch.

‘I’ll put music on instead,’ he says, opening Spotify and clicking on My Mix, the playlist starting with Summer Walker. ‘Why am I not surprised?’ he chuckles, putting down the remote and finishing off his wine. ‘Aren’t you gonna complain and try to turn it off like usual?’ I ask, and he shrugs with a rueful smile. ‘Maybe her music’s growing on me,’ he admits, and I gasp excitedly. ‘Good! I’ll send you recommendations, and then you can start listening to SZA and Jhene after,’ I say, knowing it’ll annoy him if I make a big deal out of this, and he groans with a roll of his eyes, making me laugh.

‘I’m joking.’ ‘I know, but it’s even more annoying because I’ve already got SZA and Jhene on my Spotify because of you. All of your stuff is growing on me. RnB, The Vault, 90s romcoms, wine and champagne. I even like the colour pink now,’ he says lightly, one finger gently running across the thin strap of my dress, my shoulder tingling in the wake of his touch.

‘I’ve started liking your stuff too. I go to your football matches, and I actually enjoy watching them. I’ve started going to the weird bars you like, full of white people who think they’re cool. I listen to your favourite American rappers. And maybe the colour blue isn’t so bad,’ I say quietly, a little grin on his face.

‘It’s not a surprise, though. We’ve been seeing each other at least once a week since this relationship started nearly 11 months ago. That’s a lot of time to spend with someone. We were bound to rub off on each other,’ he says, and I nod in agreement. As much as we argue and haven’t been getting along for the majority of this relationship, our lives are so intertwined now. It feels wrong to say our relationship’s fake because we behave exactly like a couple. It’s more accurate to say it was a relationship without the feelings, but maybe that’s not even true anymore.

‘I never would’ve guessed you’d like romcoms though. Which ones are your favourites?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment. ‘I like How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days.’ ‘That’s only because you think Kate Hudson’s fit.’ ‘Says you, Matthew McConaughey’s biggest fan,’ he says pointedly, and I remain silent, knowing he’s right. ‘And I like 10 Things I Hate About You as well. But I think Clueless is my favourite,’ he grins, my heart melting. I’m the personification of the film Clueless, and we both know it.

‘Clueless, really? What do you like about Clueless?’ ‘I like Cher. She’s cute, stylish, funny, pretty, kind-hearted, and completely oblivious,’ he lists off, brushing my hair back with his hand, my heart fluttering. ‘Oblivious?’ ‘Well, maybe clueless is a better word,’ he says lightly, and I roll my eyes at the bad joke.

‘How is she clueless?’ ‘She’s so wrapped up in her own little world that those pretty brown eyes of hers can’t see how people feel about her,’ he says softly, and I feel my breath catch in my throat. ‘Cher’s eyes aren’t brown.’ ‘I’m not talking about Cher anymore, babe,’ he murmurs, our eyes locked together, my entire body alight with nerves. ‘What am I not seeing?’ I ask, his lips quirking up at the question. ‘You really can’t see how I feel about you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, heart hammering in my chest.

‘I tried my best not to feel any way about you, because I know you want a big romantic love-at-first-sight relationship and I didn’t wanna try and steal that away from you, but I can’t pretend anymore. Not after the nail shop last week. Sitting with a girl while she’s getting her nails done should be the most boring thing in the world, but I’d spend every day of my life feeding you jelly beans and macchiatos, and watching you smile at pink hearts on your nails. And I can’t even describe the feeling of seeing my initials and my number on your nails, your ring fingers. All I could think was that I want to put more than my number on this finger,’ he admits in a low voice, lifting my hand and touching my finger where I’d wear an engagement or wedding ring.

‘But I thought you hated me,’ I whisper, so overwhelmed by a trillion different emotions, and he lets out a soft chuckle, looking down at my hand in his. ‘I’ve never hated you, y/n. It was childish of me, I know, but we fell out at the start because you told me I couldn’t kiss you or touch you. If I hated you, why would I have a problem with that?’ he asks, and I could slap myself for not even thinking about that.

‘I thought you were just annoyed that you wouldn’t be able to kiss or touch anyone the whole time we’re together.’ ‘y/n, I’m not a sex addict or something. I can go without physical contact. It’s been difficult being around you so much and not being able to release my frustrations properly, but still,’ he says amusedly, and I feel my body warm up. With the combination of the wine and what he’s saying, I’ll end up letting him have his way with me tonight.

‘So you like me?’ I ask, and he laughs again. ‘That’s putting it a bit simply but, yeah. I do. I think you’re the most amazing girl in the world,’ he says simply, complete honesty in his eyes, and I’m silent for a long few moments, mind working at a million miles an hour. ‘If you like me back, this would be a really good time to say that,’ he says amusedly, and I let out a little laugh.

‘I think I like you too.’ ‘You think?’ ‘I don’t… these feelings are really unfamiliar to me. I’ve only ever had schoolgirl crushes on guys. I’ve never felt this way before. I get this tight feeling in my chest when I look at you. I like being around you, even when we’re arguing. I love that people know me as your girlfriend, and I love that girls can look at you but they know they can’t have you because you’re my boyfriend. I think you’re annoying and cocky but I like that you’re annoying and cocky,’ I say, my admission making him laugh.

‘That probably means you like me.’ ‘Yeah, but then… I like wearing your hoodies and jackets because they smell like you, and I get this funny feeling in my stomach at your scent. I pretend to get annoyed at your dirty jokes but I get butterflies whenever you say them. I always wear tight and tiny outfits around you, even when it’s freezing, because I want you to want me. And I can’t think straight when I watch you play football and you’re all angry and sweaty. So I don’t think saying that I like you really covers how I feel,’ I breathe out, his eyes darkening, lips parted in surprise.

‘That’s… fuck. How can you be hot and cute at the same time?’ he asks faintly, and he moves the hand that isn’t holding mine to rest on my bare thigh, between the top of my sock and the bottom of my mini dress. ‘Hot and cute?’ ‘Babe, you just admitted you’re sexually attracted to me in the most innocent way possible,’ he chuckles, fingers tracing patterns across my skin, the area between my legs throbbing with need.

‘Because I don’t… I’ve obviously been attracted to people before but never like this. Never enough to want to act on it,’ I say, the realisation dawning on us both a moment later. ‘You wanna act on it?’ he asks with a little grin, tips of his fingers toying with the hem of my dress. ‘Yeah, I guess. It’s just scary,’ I whisper, and he laughs softly.

‘You don’t have to be scared. We won’t do anything you don’t want to do or don’t feel comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything at all. I don’t expect us to go upstairs to your room now that we’ve had this conversation. It’s a big step,’ he says gently, making me want him even more.

‘What if I did want to go upstairs to my room though?’ I ask, biting down on one of my nails nervously, his eyes zoning in on my lips. ‘You know I wouldn’t say no.’ ‘Yeah, but, like… tell me what you’d do,’ I prompt, a smile playing at his lips.

‘I’d take it slow. I’d kiss you first, for as long as possible because I’ve waited for what feels like a lifetime. Then I’d undress you and kiss all over this perfect body. And then I’d put my fingers in you, nice and gentle so it doesn’t hurt, and I’d make it feel so good for you, babe. I’d stretch you out slow so I can hear all your pretty noises, and then I’d eat you out until you cum on my tongue. And then I’d fill you up with my cock bit by bit and I’d fuck you slow, babe. Have you moaning my name in my ear when you cum around me.’

By the end of his perfectly-woven story, my mind is completely blank and my underwear is soaked. It’s pretty much exactly what I’ve always wanted my first time to be like – the only thing missing from my fantasy is a view from the most expensive room at The Shard after a romantic dinner, but I wouldn’t trade my evening with Mason for that.

‘Okay,’ I whisper, Mason chuckling softly. ‘Yeah? Are you sure?’ he asks, and I nod nervously, my stomach doing flips. ‘Don’t be nervous,’ he says, hand rubbing my leg soothingly, and I nod, trying to calm myself down. ‘Let me kiss you first,’ he murmurs, my heart skipping a beat. What if I’m a horrendous kisser and he gets the ick? Or what if I accidently bite him? Does my breath smell?

‘y/n, relax. It’s just a kiss, babe. You have kissed someone before, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I shake my head, his eyes widening in shock. ‘So I’m about to be your first kiss as well?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘That’s a lot of pressure, you know,’ he says with a small smile, lifting a hand to a lock of my hair, twirling it around his fingers. ‘It’s not. You could be a terrible kisser and I wouldn’t even know,’ I say, the boy laughing gently.

‘You’d be able to tell. Bad kissers are obvious.’ ‘And you’ve had your fair share of those?’ I ask, his gaze softening at the mild jealousy in my tone. The situation is obvious to both of us – he’s about to be my first everything, and I’m about to be just another in a long list for him. ‘I wouldn’t say fair share. A couple. But don’t think about them. I’m not thinking about them. I’m thinking about you only, babe,’ he whispers, our eyes locked together, and that’s all the reassurance I need.

‘Can I kiss you, y/n?’ he asks softly, and I nod, a small smile on his face. He begins to lean in, and my eyes flutter shut, my heart hammering in my chest as his lips gently brush against mine. He pulls back momentarily, as though he’s waiting to see if I’m still okay with it, and I feel myself leaning towards him, Mason letting out a chuckle as our lips meet again.

He slides his arms around me, lifting me up into his lap so he can pull me closer, his mouth pressing harder on mine, and I soften against him when he parts my lips with his.

It’s a tame and sweet kiss, one that makes the butterflies in my stomach melt into a puddle of want. His hands stay on my back, his lips gentle against mine, but I want more, need more from him. I adjust myself slightly on his lap, the movement making his breath catch in his throat, and the realisation that he’s getting hard beneath me only makes me even more desperate.

We break apart after a few moments, none of the panting and dark eyes I’d expect after a kiss, and I’m almost disappointed. I know he’s trying to be gentlemanly for my first time, but I don’t want him to be a gentleman now. I want him to do whatever he wants to me. I want him to enjoy this too.

‘Was that okay?’ he asks, and I nod after a split second of hesitation. He notices it, eyebrows furrowing in concern. ‘No, it wasn’t. Are you okay? Do you want to stop?’ he asks, and I shake my head, feeling embarrassed about being so desperate for him. ‘The last thing I want you to do is stop,’ I say quietly, the realisation on his face quickly followed by dark amusement.

‘What do you want me to do then, y/n?’ he grins, and I pout at him, hitting his chest lightly. ‘Don’t make me say it,’ I complain, the boy laughing. ‘How will I know if you don’t say it?’ ‘Mason.’ ‘y/n. You have to communicate with me, baby,’ he murmurs, eyes dark and big as he looks at me, and I let out a little sigh.

‘I want more. I don’t want you to hold back,’ I admit, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘It’s your first time.’ ‘I know, but I want you to enjoy this as well.’ ‘I enjoy anything with you, babe,’ he murmurs, running his fingers through my hair, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Don’t lie. That kiss was cute for a first kiss, but it must have been boring for you. I don’t want to bore you, Mase.’ ‘You don’t bore me. Babe, we’ve got all night for not-boring kisses. I just wanted your first one to be the perfect kiss that you probably always dreamed about,’ he says, a smile finding my face at that. He’s cute.

‘I don’t… how do I say this?’ I mutter, so embarrassed at the thought of what I’m about to admit, and he just waits patiently for me to speak. ‘I always dreamed of romance, yes. But I dreamed of it for dates and my wedding and holidays with my boyfriend. It was never something I dreamed about in the bedroom,’ I say quietly, and he tilts his head questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘The thought of romantic sex doesn’t…’ I trail off, the look in his eyes like he’s just stumbled across gold.

‘y/n, that’s… are you saying you’re into other things?’ he asks quietly, in complete shock, and I nod, feeling mortified at this conversation. ‘Like what?’ ‘Don’t make me say it, Mase,’ I whine, the boy laughing. ‘No, this is not what I expected from you at all. You have to say it otherwise I won’t believe it.’ ‘No, Mason. I can’t say it,’ I say firmly, knowing I’ll die of humiliation if he makes me say this out loud.

‘Fine, okay. I’ll ask then. Do you want it rough, y/n? Want me to use you to make myself feel good? Want me to kiss you and touch you and fuck you like a slut?’ he asks with a dark grin, my mind entering overdrive, my lack of response giving him the answer he was expecting. ‘My baby’s not so innocent after all then, is she?’ he asks lowly, hands tightening on my waist, pressing me down onto his lap. The friction makes me let out a soft sigh, his eyes darkening at the sound.

‘Fuck. This is… probably not a good idea. I can’t be rough with you for your first time. I don’t wanna hurt you.’ ‘You won’t. You’ll know better than I will what I can and can’t handle,’ I say quietly, and his lips quirk up amusedly. ‘You’ll be able to handle anything I give you, won’t you, baby?’ he murmurs, looking satisfied at the way I take a deep breath to pull myself together, my nod making him grin wider.

‘Gonna be a good girl for me?’ ‘Mmhmm.’ ‘Good. Don’t want to have to punish you, do we, babe?’ he asks, and I feel my heartrate speed up at the mention of punishment. ‘You want to be punished? Such a dirty girl, y/n. Want me to spread you over my lap and slap your perfect ass until you’re crying?’ he asks lowly, and I struggle to hold his gaze, the thought of it making my core ache.

‘Mase, please.’ ‘Please what, babe?’ he asks, and I don’t even really know what I’m asking for. ‘Kiss me again,’ I ask, one of his hands snaking up to the back of my neck, pulling my head closer to him so our lips can meet again.

He definitely doesn’t hold back this time, the kiss making my mind focus on nothing but him. I never could’ve dreamed that kissing would feel this good, his lips enveloping my mouth, his tongue sliding over mine. It’s passionate and deep and messy, and all I can’t think straight with his scent filling my senses, his soft hair between my fingers, and his hands sliding up and down my back.

His hands tighten at my waist again, guiding me to move forward on his lap, the movement making me let out a whimper against his lips. That must be his final straw because he breaks apart, both of us out of breath this time.

‘Am I a bad kisser?’ I ask, the boy laughing. ‘No, y/n. You’re perfect,’ he smiles, my heart fluttering. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I just need to grab something from my car,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow.

‘You’re not running away, are you?’ I ask suspiciously, and he laughs. ‘I’d have to either be gay or stupid if I decided to leave now,’ he says lightly, making me giggle. ‘I have condoms in my car. Unless you’ve got some?’ he asks, the situation suddenly feeling very real, my body humming with arousal.

‘I don’t. Do we need them though? I’m on birth control,’ I say, and he shakes his head. ‘It’s not worth the risk. You’d probably be put off for life if you get pregnant from your first time,’ he says drily, making me laugh. ‘It’ll be fine.’ ‘Don’t tempt me, y/n. Seriously,’ he says warningly, and I gaze at him with big innocent eyes. ‘I wanna feel you though.’ ‘You will feel me, babe. You can’t even notice the condom,’ he says, trying to sound firm but I can tell he’s being swayed.

‘Fine, okay,’ I give in, the boy breathing a sigh of relief at me not trying to persuade him anymore. ‘Go upstairs for me, babe. I’ll be up in a minute,’ he says as I get off him, the boy following me out of the room. He slaps my ass lightly as I take the first step, and I can’t help but giggle to myself as I head upstairs.

I enter my bedroom, putting on some music through my speaker before tidying away all the stuff I left out while I was getting ready earlier. I can hear his footsteps on the stairs as I’m putting my straighteners away in my bathroom drawer, my stomach churning with nerves and excitement, the latter just about outweighing the former.

I step back into the bedroom to see him entering the room too, a smile on his face when he meets my eyes. ‘Are you still sure you wanna do this?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. Yes, this is scary, but I’m ready. I don’t want my first time to be with anyone but him. ‘Come here then,’ he grins, holding out a hand to me, and I cross the room to take it, letting him pull me against him.

Our lips meet in another pulse-racing kiss, his hands trailing all over my body as I grip onto his strong shoulders before snaking my hands up to tangle my fingers into his hair. My skin tingles in the wake of his touch, his needy hands squeezing my ass, pressing into my waist, sliding across my back, running through my hair.

His tongue slides across mine as he slips his fingers beneath the hem of my dress, slow on their journey up my legs, bringing my dress up with them. ‘Can I take this off you?’ he asks against my lips, and I hum out my permission. He doesn’t waste any more time, his fingers slipping the straps off my shoulders and pushing the material down my body, the dress landing in a pool at my feet.

He wraps his arms around me, lifting me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he walks us towards the bed, putting me down gently. He looks down at me, pupils impossibly wide and dark as they trawl over my body, clad in just a lacy pink bra, matching pants and my thigh high white socks with little pink bows on them. I take the opportunity to admire him too. He’s in a pair of loose jeans and a soft blue jumper, a silver chain tucked into it. His hair’s all fluffy from me running my hands through it, and he looks more handsome than he’s ever looked in his life.

‘You’re so beautiful, y/n,’ he murmurs, climbing over me and capturing my lips in another kiss. He breaks the kiss quickly though, moving to press kisses along my jaw and down my neck. When he reaches my collarbone, I realise he’s kissing all over my body like he said he was going to. ‘Can I?’ he asks, hands slipping beneath my back, fingers on the clasp on my bra, and I nod. He expertly pops the clasp open, helping pull the straps down my arms.

‘I’ve always loved your boobs,’ he admits, my laugh cut off by a gasp when he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, the other breast in his hand, fingers roughly gripping the flesh. He switches to the other nipple, rolling the first between his fingers so as not to neglect it, and I feel my back arch at the sudden pleasurable shocks.

‘Does that feel good?’ he asks, words muffled by how they’re spoken around my nipple. ‘Mmm, so good,’ I whimper as he gropes and sucks on my boobs like a teen boy. I’d laugh if my mind wasn’t distracted with the intense pleasure.

He continues kissing down my stomach and, to my surprise, he leaves my pants on and skips the area entirely, kissing my thighs until he reaches the tops of my socks. ‘These fucking socks,’ he murmurs, pulling one of them away from my leg before letting go of it, the material slapping back against my skin. ‘You like them?’ ‘I fucking love them, baby. You look like such a cute little slut in them,’ he grins as he pushes my legs apart. I expect his eyes to focus in on my clothed core but he keeps his eyes on mine, pressing kisses to my inner thighs, little tingles running through me at the feeling of his lips somewhere so intimate.

‘Turn over for me, babe,’ he prompts and I do as he says, lying on my stomach. He moves my hair aside to kiss the back of my neck before moving down the line in the middle of my back. His journey to the dip just before my ass is slow, my heart suspended in anticipation. When he reaches my ass, he gently nips at one cheek before pressing soothing kisses in the same place, a blissful sigh escaping my lips.

The sound seems to knock him out a reverie, the boy turning me onto my back and hovering over me to kiss me again. He keeps himself elevated leaning on one forearm, the other hand pressing into the curve of my waist. I let my hands rest on either side of his face, his beard soft against my skin as our lips move in sync, tongues clashing messily. Nothing about this kiss meets the expectations for a first time, but it’s exactly what I want.

He turns us over, my body weight resting on top of his, and his hands instantly slide down to my ass, gripping it tightly before slapping it, the sound loud in the room. I giggle into our kiss, his lips curling up at the sound as he brings his hands up my body, a shiver running through me at the feeling of his fingers gliding across my bare skin.

I break apart from him after a moment, sitting just below his stomach with my legs straddling him. He looks up at me in awe, trying his best not to stare at my bare chest right in front of him. I slip my fingers beneath his jumper, feeling his warm skin, and he sits up so I can take it off him, bringing up the t-shirt underneath with it, leaving his top half bare. I’ve seen him shirtless a couple times but never so close like this, and I let my hands explore his torso, up and down over the contours of his muscles.

‘My girls would kill me if they knew we were doing this,’ I admit distractedly, eyes focused on his abs. ‘Why? Because they hate me?’ he asks, leaning back on his elbows with a cocky grin, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Why do you get such a kick out of the fact my friends hate you?’ ‘Because they’re the closest people to you, and they’re probably always telling you that I’m not shit and you need to get your agent to end the relationship, but look at us,’ he says proudly, and I roll my eyes amusedly.

‘Well, that’s not the only reason they’d kill me.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘They’re always telling me I should sell my virginity,’ I tell him, tracing my nails over the lines of his abs. ‘Sell it? You’re not a prostitute.’ ‘I know, but I could get a good few million for it from some rich middle-aged business man,’ I say, and he just raises an eyebrow.

‘We could make a few million other ways,’ he murmurs, hands resting on my waist. ‘How?’ ‘We could make a porno,’ he grins, my core pulsing at the thought. ‘A porno?’ ‘Yeah. Your pretty face and pretty body and pretty noises in a sextape would make us more than a few millions. And I bet your pretty tits, pretty ass and pretty pussy would make us billions, baby,’ he smirks, pulling me close for another kiss, arousal flooding through my body. He hasn’t even seen me fully naked yet but he’s so firm about the attractiveness of my body – it definitely gives me a confidence boost.

The aching between my legs is too much, and I find myself pressing down onto him to relieve it. He tenses beneath me, clearly just as worked up as me with the way he grips onto my hips, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us breathless. Gentle waves of pleasure roll through my body, my lips letting out quiet sighs against his mouth.

‘Does that feel good, babe?’ he asks, breaking away from me and kissing along my jaw. I let out an ‘mmm’ sound which he takes as an answer, lips lifting up into a grin against my skin before he nips at it, the pleasurable pain making me whimper. ‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mumbles into my neck, still rocking my body against his.

‘Can I ask you something? A personal question?’ he asks, and I sit up after a moment, feeling nervous as I nod. ‘What have you actually done? Sexually? Because I know you’re a virgin but I’d assumed that you’d kissed someone before, so maybe my assumptions are all wrong,’ he says, and a small smile finds my lips at the question.

‘I haven’t done anything. You’re the first person to kiss me and touch me and see me like this,’ I say, a tiny smirk on his face. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘What about what you’ve done? Have you ever touched yourself, babe?’ he asks, and I avoid his gaze, feeling a little bit of embarrassment unfurling in my chest. ‘I tried, once.’ ‘Why only once?’ ‘It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel like anything, really. So I just never tried again,’ I admit, the boy grinning.

‘So you’ve never had an orgasm before?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘Good. I’ll make your first one amazing, babe, I promise,’ he murmurs, pulling me down for a brief kiss before lifting me off him. He gets up off the bed, about to take his jeans off, but I grab his hands to stop him.

‘Let me,’ I breathe out, kneeling at the edge of the bed and looking up at him as I flick his jeans button open. He watches how I pull the zip down before bunching the material in my hands, slowly pulling it down his legs, leaving him in just his Calvin Kleins, his boner right in front of my face. My curiosity gets the best of me and I palm his cock through his boxers, the groan he lets out making my pants flood.

‘Fuck, baby, don’t. I’m gonna end up cumming in my fucking boxers like I’m the virgin here,’ he warns me, making me laugh. He moves my pillows aside, sitting at the top of the bed with his back against the headboard, and he pats the bed between his legs, motioning for me to sit there. I crawl up the bed, sitting with my back against his front, my body enveloped by his.

I rest my hands on his thighs as he snakes his arms around me, his lips landing on my neck. I tilt my head to allow him better access, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his kisses, and his hands slide down my stomach and under my legs. He pulls my legs up to bend at the knees before slipping his hands between my thighs, parting them.

‘Shall we come up with a safe word for you, babe?’ he asks against my skin, and I nod. ‘Think of one,’ he prompts, and I wrack my brains. ‘Clueless?’ I suggest, the boy chuckling, his warm breath fanning across my bare shoulder. ‘So you’ll say ‘clueless’ if you need me to stop, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Good girl,’ he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

‘Make sure you tell me if you want me to stop,’ he reminds me as his hand slips down between my legs, fingertips gliding across my saturated underwear, making me shiver in his arms. ‘Fuck, you’re so wet, babe,’ he whispers, my breaths already becoming shaky with his finger gently running up and down my pants. He doesn’t waste much time before sliding his hand beneath my underwear, ending his teasing quickly which I’m grateful for. His fingers glide lightly across my wet folds and he quickly finds my clit, fingers pressing against the bud. I let out a high-pitched whimper, head falling back against him and he lets out a gentle chuckle.

‘Does that feel good, baby?’ he asks as he rubs at my clit in slow circles, and I nod, exhilaration filling me. I’ve never felt anything like this before, my body humming with desire and pleasure, soft breaths escaping my lips.

He pulls my pants aside to exposing my glistening core to the cool air of the room, a shudder running through me. ‘Ready?’ he murmurs, and I nod. He slides a finger in slowly, my body reacting to the unfamiliar intrusion by clenching my walls around him, and he doesn’t move at all for a few moments, letting me getting used to the unusual feeling.

‘Does it hurt?’ he asks, pressing soothing kisses to my neck again, and I shake my head. ‘Just feels a bit weird,’ I reply, feeling his laugh against my skin. ‘You’re so tight, baby. Can’t wait to stretch you out, make you feel so good, y/n,’ he whispers, starting to slowly move his finger back and forth.

The feeling soon starts to become pleasurable rather than weird, my walls not clenching as hard around his finger, and he takes advantage of it, sliding in another finger with the first.

‘Mase,’ I whisper softly. ‘Too much?’ he asks, and I give my body a few moments to get used to the feeling before shaking my head. ‘Such a good girl for me, babe,’ he murmurs, slowly thrusting his fingers into me, letting my body get accustomed to the burning stretch. My eyes fall shut, arousal gushing out onto his hand, causing faint wet sounds that make my skin heat up.

‘Feels good?’ ‘So good,’ I whimper softly, nails digging into his strong thighs as he curls his fingers inside me. The intense pleasure makes me clamp my thighs shut around his hand, the boy chuckling softly. ‘You can take it, babe, come on,’ he says soothingly as he pushes my legs apart again, hooking one leg with his own to keep it restrained from meeting the other.

‘You’re so sensitive, baby,’ he says amusedly, curling his fingers again and brushing a spot inside me that makes me whine pathetically. And then he begins to rub his palm against my clit with each movement of his hand, my head falling back onto his shoulder and my back arching, a quiet moan escaping my lips.

My body squirms between his legs, but he holds me firmly in place and keeps my legs apart, fingers continuing to thrust into me at a gradually quickening pace, whine after whimper slipping out from my lips as Mason whispers filth into my ear, making me lose my mind.

‘Look at you, babe. Grinding on my hand. Does it feel good, baby?’ he asks cockily and, sure enough, when I force myself to open my eyes, I see that I’m grinding against his fingers unconsciously, each movement of my hips resulting in his hand brushing my clit and sending a gentle wave of pleasure through me.

‘So good, Mase,’ I moan softly, the boy cursing at the sound, kissing and biting at my neck to leave marks, making my eyes flutter shut once again. ‘You sound so pretty for me, babe. So pretty. Gonna make you feel so good,’ he whispers against my skin, but the words barely register, my focus on the unfamiliar feeling of my stomach tightening.

‘Mase, I think I’m close,’ I say breathlessly, and he lets out a gentle laugh against my neck. ‘I know, babe, I can feel it.’ ‘I didn’t think… girls really cum from their first time,’ I say, words broken up with a moan prompted from his fingers spreading apart to open me up. ‘Girls don’t cum from their first time if the person they’re with is shit as sex. Lucky for you…’ he grins against my skin, thumb pressing onto my clit, and I let out a loud moan, the boy groaning at the noise.

‘Fuck, I need to taste you,’ he says, sliding his fingers out of me and lifting them to his mouth, licking my arousal off his skin. ‘Mmm, you taste so good,’ he says appreciatively, satisfaction filling me. I’m glad to hear my vagina’s to his taste.

‘Lie back for me, babe,’ he says gently as he gets up, moving to lie on his stomach further down the bed. I rest my head on one of the pillows, looking down at him as his hands slide up my legs, fingers hooking around the waistband of my pants. ‘Can I?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slowly pulling the material down my legs before throwing it over his shoulder.

He pushes my legs apart slowly, revealing my soaking wet core to him, and his lips part in disbelief, eyes darkening as they focus between my legs. ‘Fuck. Such a pretty pussy, baby. So wet for me,’ he murmurs, collecting up my wetness with two fingers, the contact making me clench. He lifts his fingers to my lips this time, and I open my mouth, taking in his fingers and tasting myself on them.

‘Doesn’t your pussy taste so good, babe?’ he grins as I lick his fingers clean of my own arousal, and I nod, feeling even wetter at how dirty he is. ‘Could eat you all night,’ he says, wrapping his arms around my legs to lift them over his shoulders, pulling me close so his face is mere millimetres from my core.

He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he presses his tongue flat against my folds before swiping it upwards, a soft moan escaping my lips. He starts with slow and gentle licks across my folds, the steady stimulation making my brain fuzzy with pleasure, but he can’t keep himself controlled for very long. He pushes his finger into me again, my walls clamping down at the suddenness of it as I gasp, the slight pain soothed by his tongue flicking across my clit.

The sensation is so foreign but so good – he alternates between thrusting a finger into me whilst sucking at my clit, and poking his tongue between my folds whilst drawing slow circles on my clit with his thumb. I grip onto his locks, my high-pitched whimpers becoming more frequent, and I can’t decide whether I want to pull him closer or push him away, not sure whether it’s not enough or too much.

He decides for me, pulling me so close I’m surprised he can breathe. He begins practically making out with my pussy, the loud slurping sounds so obscene and crude that it only makes me wetter, my moans more and more desperate with every movement of his lips. His nose nuzzles against my clit as he eats me out, the irregular waves of pleasure sending my body into overdrive, the knot getting tighter and tighter as I squirm beneath him. He tries to keep me still with one forearm pressed down across my stomach, the other hand squeezing my boob and tugging gently at my nipple.

‘I’m think I’m gonna…’ I breathe out between moans, clenching sporadically as my body twitches, and I can feel him grinning against my folds. He replaces his mouth with two fingers pushing into me, thrusting into me fast and hard.

‘Gonna cum for me, y/n? It’s gonna feel so good, baby, just let go. Cum for me, babe,’ he murmurs softly, voice just about discernible over my loud moaning, and when he flicks his tongue across my clit before sucking it into his mouth as he curls his fingers inside me, I feel the knot in my stomach undo itself.

I cry out his name as my vision blurs, walls clenching around his fingers and holding them in place with an iron-like grip, thighs closing around his head. He works me through my orgasm with sucking gently on my clit, his free hand groping my boob, providing me with a gentle bliss in comparison to the intense pleasure burning low in my stomach.

When I feel myself coming back down from my high, I let out a sigh, body relaxing into the bed, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of me, a shiver racking through me. I just about manage to lift my head to watch as he lifts his hand to his mouth, slipping the fingers covered in my cum between his lips, eyes closing as he lets out an appreciative groan.

‘You did so good for me, babe. Such a good girl, took it so well for me,’ he praises as he moves back up the bed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me against his body. I feel something very stiff poking into my hip, getting wet again already at how hard he is.

‘How did that feel?’ he asks with his lips pressed against my forehead. ‘Good.’ ‘Just good?’ he chuckles, and I laugh. ‘Yeah. I’d be exaggerating if I said anything else,’ I joke, and he tilts my head up so our eyes meet, his eyebrow raising. ‘Your moaning said otherwise, babe,’ he grins, and I roll my eyes. He starts mocking my sounds and I hit him gently, hiding my head in his shoulder out of embarrassment.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking. It was sexy, y/n. Nothing’s ever turned me on more. You can feel the proof of that,’ he says drily, and I laugh softly, looking down at the tent in his Calvins. The thought that I caused that gives me a little thrill. I trace my finger down his v-line slowly, stopping when I reach the waistband of his underwear.

‘Can I?’ I ask, looking up at him, and he nods with a small grin. I slip my hand beneath the waistband, taking his cock into my hand, the thick and heavy weight so unfamiliar to me. I gently tug on it out of curiosity, watching his face for his reaction, and his eyes flutter shut, veins protruding from his neck. I move my hand up to the tip, feeling pre-cum leaking out, and I lift my hand to my mouth to taste it, the boy watching me with dark eyes.

‘Fuck, you’re a dirty little slut, babe,’ he murmurs as the subtly salty taste coats my tongue. ‘Tastes bad, doesn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, and I laugh. ‘Not bad. Just… not good either,’ I admit, the boy chuckling. ‘I’ll start drinking pineapple juice every day, just for you,’ he promises with a grin, and I clutch my heart, pretending I’m honoured.

‘How long’s it been since you last had sex?’ I ask after a few seconds of silence, my fingertips tracing his muscles again. ‘Since before our relationship started. Probably a couple days before we signed the contract. I don’t remember exactly,’ he admits, and I nod, processing the information.

‘So you must be really worked up then,’ I say, looking up at him, and he laughs softly. ‘I’m worked up, but it’s because you’re lying next to me naked and looking at me with your big eyes,’ he says with a small smile. ‘Surely the amount of time has an effect as well?’ ‘Yeah, but it’s not like I’ve… been frustrated for 11 months,’ he says, and I realise belatedly what he means.

‘Oh. You mean you’ve masturbated?’ I ask, the boy laughing, probably at how innocent of a question it was. I should’ve known really – he wouldn’t have gone nearly a year without an orgasm. ‘Yes, babe, I have. Regularly. It’s good for you,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘That’s why you do it?’ ‘Well… no.’ ‘Why then?’ ‘The reason anyone masturbates. To keep myself… satisfied when I’m frustrated but can’t get any,’ he says, and I don’t reply for a few moments.

‘Do you watch porn when you do it?’ I ask out of curiosity, an amused smile on his lips at my innocent questioning. ‘Sometimes.’ ‘Why only sometimes?’ I ask, and he hesitates to speak. ‘My answer might make you uncomfortable.’ ‘It won’t,’ I say firmly, part of me already knowing what he’s going to say, desperate to hear it out loud.

‘The other times, I think of you. I’d go home hard almost every time I saw you, whether it was our good days or our bad days. Making you happy turns me on. Arguing with you turns me on. You smiling at me, rolling your eyes at me, saying my name nicely or not-so-nicely. All of it turns me on. Every single thing about you is so sexy to me, y/n, and just being in your presence makes me want you so much,’ he says quietly, my entire body burning with longing for him, satisfaction settling in my heart at hearing how much he’s attracted to me.

‘If you had to name one thing about me that turns you on the most, what would it be? Just for future reference,’ I say, unable to hold back my smile, and he laughs, the smile on his face so beautiful that my heart aches. ‘I can’t name one thing, babe. It’s everything about you. But… I do love seeing you in a Chelsea shirt with my name on the back,’ he admits, and I wait for him to elaborate.

‘I’m possessive, so I love seeing my name on you and knowing that any guy that looks at you will see it. They can look at how beautiful you are, but they can’t touch because you’re mine,’ he says, my butterflies going wild at hearing him claim me. ‘And I’d think of fucking you from behind while you’re wearing it and seeing my name on your back,’ he adds on shamelessly, my stomach turning with desire. Now that he’s said it, I want him to do just that after his next match.

‘Sorry. That was too much,’ he says, thinking I’m silent because I’m uncomfortable, and I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t. It makes me feel good that you want me,’ I say, a small grin on his lips. ‘Seems like I’m good at making you feel good,’ he smirks, the double entendre not going unnoticed, and I roll my eyes, trying to hold back a smile.

‘You’re far too confident for a guy that hasn’t actually fucked me yet,’ I say pointedly, his eyes widening. ‘You really don’t want a gentleman, do you? I was just giving you a chance to recover from your first ever orgasm before I give you another one,’ he mutters amusedly. ‘Wasn’t much to recover from,’ I joke, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Your thighs trying to crush my head said different, babe. So did your pussy trying to break my finger,’ he reminds me, and I fall silent, not able to come up with a retort.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought,’ he chuckles, getting up from the bed and picking up his jeans. I panic for a second, thinking he’s about to go, but he just gets a condom out of the pocket. ‘Are you sure you still want me to fuck you, babe? You can tell me if you’re tired or not ready or you just don’t want to,’ he says softly, and I shake my head. ‘I still want you, Mase,’ I say quietly, crawling to the edge of the bed beside where he stands, taking one of his hands into mine and pulling him close.

‘But I want you raw,’ I whisper, taking the condom out of his hand, and he lets out a little sigh. ‘y/n-’ ‘Please. I want you to cum in me,’ I say softly, looking up at him through my lashes, and he groans. ‘Fuck, y/n, don’t say that.’ ‘It’s true, though. I want it in me, not in a condom.’

‘And what if you get pregnant?’ ‘I won’t, I’m on the pill!’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Is it 100% effective?’ ‘Well… no, but Isla and Steph are both on it and they’ve never gotten pregnant,’ I say, and he rolls his eyes. ‘So just because they have sex without condoms, you want to as well?’ ‘No, I want to because I want to feel you, without anything separating us, and I want you to cum inside me,’ I say, and he looks skywards like he needs help from God to have this conversation with me.

‘If you really don’t want to, that’s fine. But-’ ‘No, I want to. I just don’t want to risk anything happening to you,’ he murmurs, lifting a hand to caress my face gently. ‘Nothing’s gonna happen. I’m consistent with the pill, so I won’t get pregnant. And you’re clean, right?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘So it’s gonna be fine then. Please, Masey,’ I say with a pout, and he finally gives in.

‘Okay, fine. If my dirty girl wants it raw, that’s what she’ll get,’ he grins, my core throbbing at the thought of him cumming inside me. ‘Lie back for me,’ he instructs and I do as he says, on full display for him, his eyes trawling over my body appreciatively. ‘You’re so perfect, baby,’ he praises, taking his boxers off, and my heart pounds at the sight of him stood there in all his glory. Flawlessly toned body, dark ink on fair skin, and a cock that makes my pussy wet.

‘That’s… not gonna fit in me,’ I breathe out, the boy laughing as he climbs over me, his lips meeting mine in soft kiss. ‘It will, babe.’ ‘Will it hurt?’ I ask nervously, and he doesn’t answer for a moment. ‘Maybe. But we’ll go slowly, and I’ll stop if you ask me to. Okay?’ he murmurs, and I nod, taking a deep breath to try and calm myself.

He kisses me again, turning us over so my body weight rests entirely on him, his hands trailing up and down my body. We both gradually get more and more worked up, moaning against each other’s mouths, our hands fervent and desperate on each other. My core is impossibly wet, my arousal soaking his skin too, and when he reaches a hand between my legs, slipping his finger between my folds, a pornographic moan escapes my lips, the boy groaning at the noise.

‘You’re definitely wet enough. Are you still sure you want this?’ ‘Yes, Mase, please. Need you to fuck me,’ I murmur against his neck, the boy wasting no time in turning us over, on his knees between my legs. He runs the tip up and down my folds, soaking his cock in my arousal, and my walls clench around nothing, desperate to feel him inside.

‘What’s your safe word?’ he tests me. ‘Clueless.’ ‘Good girl,’ he murmurs, the praise making me smile to myself, and I watch as he pumps his cock a couple times, his eyes fluttering shut at the stimulation. He’s so fucking sexy – just the sight of him like this makes me feel like I could cum.

‘Legs around my waist, babe,’ he says as he moves to hover over me, and I wrap my legs around him, hooking them together at the ankles. ‘Ready?’ he asks, and I nod, heart warm at the gentle kiss he presses to my lips.

I feel the head of his cock running along my folds again before he starts to push inside me. The pain of the stretch catches me off guard – I didn’t expect it to hurt like this – and I gasp, my entire body tensing. ‘Hurts?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I squeak out, gripping on to his shoulders, and he leans down to press comforting kisses to my jaw. ‘Shall I stop?’ he asks against my skin, and I shake my head. It hurts but I still want him.

‘The tip’s usually the worst bit and that’s nearly in. You’re doing so well,’ he whispers soothingly, pushing further in bit by bit, the pain throbbing between my legs. He keeps whispering praise and encouragement in my ear, telling me I’m taking him so well and I’m being such a good girl for him, and it makes me even wetter, letting him push in all the way with less and less pain.

‘Well done, babe, you did so well,’ he says softly once he’s all the way in, kissing me sweetly as my body tries to get used to the unfamiliar intrusion. Despite my best efforts to keep my body relaxed, my walls keep clenching around him, as though they’re trying to force him out.

‘I know you don’t mean to, but- fuck. Your clenching is not doing me any favours,’ he murmurs with his head buried in my neck, and I try my best to stop, feeling bad for him. He hasn’t had sex for almost a year and now that he’s finally in me, he’s staying still so he can let me adjust. This is probably torture for him.

‘You know you’re the first girl that I’ve not used a condom with?’ he says against my skin, my heart singing at the news that I am one of his firsts after all. ‘Really?’ ‘Yeah. And I hope to God that you decide to keep me around after tonight, because I cannot go back to condoms after being in you raw and you’re the only person I trust to fuck without one,’ he admits, the butterflies going wild again.

‘Of course I’m gonna keep you around. Our contract doesn’t expire for another month yet,’ I joke, the boy laughing against my neck, my arms wrapped around his shoulders. ‘What about after that? Will you sign the renewal?’ ‘Will you?’ I ask, wanting to hear his answer first. ‘I’d rather have a real relationship with you instead,’ he says, a happy sigh escaping my lips, the sound making him laugh.

‘How are you feeling now?’ he asks, and I realise that the conversation distracted me from the uncomfortable feeling from before. Now my body’s already become accustomed to him inside me. It doesn’t hurt anymore – I just feel full.

‘I feel okay. You can move now,’ I say, and he lifts his head up to meet my eyes. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Mmhmm. I’m ready,’ I breathe out, kissing him again. ‘I’m warning you, though, babe. I don’t think I’m gonna last very long.’ ‘That’s okay, Mase.’ ‘No, but seriously. I might cum before you.’ ‘It’s fine, Mason, don’t worry. I’m not gonna get pissed off at you for cumming first,’ I laugh, the boy nodding with a small smile.

He starts moving, slowly pulling partway out before pushing back in gently, both of us sharply intaking breath at the feeling. It’s weird at first, and a little bit painful, but as his pace becomes more steady and his thrusts become more forceful, the pain ebbs away into pleasure.

‘Does it feel good?’ ‘Feels so good, Mase,’ I whimper, his skin so hot against mine, hands pressing into the bed on either side of my head. ‘Fuck, you’re so tight, babe,’ he curses, and it really does feel like he’s just about fitting in me, cock dragging against my walls and sending blissful waves of pleasure through me.

I can feel the way he’s restraining himself from pounding into me the way he must want to, instead rolling his hips against mine in slow and shallow thrusts, body moving against my clit, making me clench around him unintentionally.

‘Babe, you really need to stop clenching before I cum,’ he warns me, and I widen my eyes innocently. ‘I’m not doing it on purpose, Mase. I can’t help it. Just love how you feel inside me,’ I murmur, the boy groaning as his dick twitches.

‘Fuck, I’m so close,’ he murmurs, the whiny tone of his voice making me gush around him, and I decide I need him to cum in me right now. I dig my heels into his back as he thrusts into me, keeping him buried deep inside, and I clench around him, pulling his head down so I can whisper in his ear.

‘Cum for me, Mase. Wanna feel your cum in me,’ I breathe out against his ear, and it pushes him over the edge, the boy letting out a moan into my neck as he hits his high, his cock pulsing in me as he cums, his release deep in me. He lets out heavy breaths and gentle grunts, lifting his head up and pressing a kiss to my lips once he’s done.

‘I’ve never cum that quick in my life.’ ‘Yeah, right. Starting to think you’re a two-pump chump,’ I tease, his mouth dropping open. ‘It’s nearly been a year-’ ‘I know, I’m joking,’ I laugh, kissing him again. We’ve kissed so many times tonight but every single one feels like a first kiss, filling my body with so much happiness.

‘Did I hurt you?’ ‘It hurt a bit at the start but then it felt good,’ I say shyly, Mason grinning. I can feel his cock softening inside me, not stretching me out so much now. ‘If you ever let me fuck you again, I promise I’ll make you cum first,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Well, as it stands, there’s not much making me want to sleep with you again,’ I joke, Mason rolling his eyes.

‘You’re never gonna move on from this, are you?’ ‘Nope. You’ll be hearing about it for the rest of your life.’ ‘Rest of my life? Who says I wanna keep you around that long?’ ‘Things in your life clearly don’t last very long then,’ I fire back, Mason bursting into laughter, prompting me to laugh too. Sex always felt so scary to me, so serious and real, but this has been perfect, with all the laughing and joking and tenderness.

‘You still want me to fuck you?’ ‘Can you?’ ‘Yeah, I’ll get hard again in a couple minutes.’ ‘That quickly?’ I ask in surprise, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m in bed with the sexiest girl on Earth, and she’s naked and has my cock in her. I’m surprised I’m not already hard again,’ he says as though it’s obvious, my heart melting at hearing him compliment me again. I don’t think I’ll ever doubt myself again after this.

‘I do still want you to fuck me. I… don’t want today to be over yet. It’s been perfect,’ I say, the boy smiling softly. ‘I’d make every single day like this for you if you asked for it,’ he says, and even though it’d never be possible, he says it with complete sincerity, as though he really would want to. ‘You don’t have to take me on the best date ever and buy me lavish presents every day. But this part would be nice to do every day,’ I say coyly, Mason laughing gently.

‘Okay, babe. I’ll fuck you every day if that’s what you want,’ he promises me, and I feel myself getting wetter at the thought of him coming home to me waiting for him to fuck me. ‘Is that what my dirty girl wants?’ he asks, hand tightening on my jaw, holding my head in place so he can stare deep into my eyes, and I just about manage to nod in his tight grip. He’s giving me whiplash with the way he’s switching the mood.

‘Want me to come home to you and fuck you after you’ve been waiting all day? Because you know I would, baby. If you’re in the kitchen baking me something sweet, I’ll lie you across the counter and eat something even sweeter. If you’re watching TV in the living room, I’ll slip my fingers into your pants and make you cum all over my hand like a good little slut. If you’re in the dance studio, I’ll bend you over in front of the mirror so you can watch how pretty you look with my cock in you. If you’re recording, I’ll sit you on my cock and record all your pretty moans so you can listen to them when I’m away and remember how good I make you feel. I’ll fuck you after my matches and after your shows when we’re both all worked up and desperate for each other. I’ll fuck you with my fingers in the car after our dates, and then I’ll flip up your skirt as soon as we’re inside and fuck you against the front door. I’m yours now, babe, and you can have me whenever and wherever,’ he says lowly as he kisses along my jaw, his words making me moan softly. The thought of having him in all those different ways sends a fresh wave of arousal through me – I want him in every single one of those situations and my life won’t be complete if I don’t get it.

‘Want me to fuck my cum back into you?’ ‘Please fuck me, Mase. I need it,’ I beg pathetically, the boy grinning against my skin. He sits up on his knees again, pulling out of me and focusing his eyes between my legs. I can feel his cum dripping out of me a few moments later, his eyes darkening and smirk growing at the sight. I reach down and scoop some of it up, lifting my hand to my mouth and swiping my tongue across one fingertip, able to taste both of us. He watches me with a heavy focus, so I decide to help him along to getting hard again.

I reach my hand back down, his cum still on my fingers, and I think about pushing it back into me, but my nails are too long for me to put my fingers inside myself, so I rub it across my clit instead. I curse under my breath, keeping my eyes on his face as I smear his release across my folds and my clit, rolling my hips to meet the movements of my hand. He looks desperate for me, eyes so dark they’re almost black and lips parted to let out heavy breaths.

‘You’re so fucking hot, babe, oh, my God,’ he groans, hand fisting his cock, and he’s already hard again, abs clenching at the stimulation he’s giving himself. ‘Mase, fuck me, please,’ I whimper, still rubbing slow circles at my clit, and it’s like my begging knocks him back into action. He moves my hand away, replacing it with his own, and even though he matches my pace, it just feels so much better, my back arching under his touch.

He pulls off my socks, both of us now completely naked, and he lifts one of my legs to rest my ankle on his shoulder. He’s still resting on his knees, and he kisses the inside of my ankle as he buries himself deep inside me with much less resistance this time. I feel so much more exposed without his body covering mine, but the infatuation in his gaze as it travels across my body makes me feel confident rather than uncomfortable.

‘Can I move?’ he asks, and I nod, the boy slipping his hands beneath my back to lift my body up from the bed slightly. ‘Use your safe word if I’m being too rough,’ he says, the only bit of warning before he pulls almost all the way out before slamming all the way back in. There’s slight pain but it only adds to the pleasure, my eyes rolling back as I let out a high-pitched moan.

‘Fuck, baby, your moans are so fucking pretty. My pretty baby sounds so desperate and good for me,’ he murmurs, moving my body back and forth to meet his strong thrusts, his cock so deep it feels like it’s in my stomach. His hands are tight at my waist, holding me in a bruising grip, and his thrusts are just as forceful, but the kisses he presses to my ankles and legs are so soft and tender in comparison, my mind in a mess at the conflicting sensations.

He's much more focused on my pleasure now, watching my face intently to see my reactions as he fucks into me at a steady pace, the sounds of my moaning and skin slapping against skin drowning out the gentle music in the background. My body’s so stunned at the unfamiliar feelings, but the thing that makes me squirm the most is the look on his face as he watches me, a mix of cockiness, affection and intense desire.

‘You’re taking it so fucking well, y/n. My pretty girl loves having my cock, isn’t that right?’ he murmurs, voice strained with the effort of fucking me, and I can’t even respond, just moaning his name desperately. I feel the knot in my stomach starting to tighten as I watch his muscles rippling with every movement, the blood vessels in his body corded tight.

‘Getting close?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod, the boy adjusting his position so he’s lying over me again, one leg slung around his waist with the other bent up between our bodies. He fucks into me with renewed energy, the new position meaning the head of his cock is brushing against a spot inside me that makes my eyes tear up, and his grunts of effort are directly against my ear, driving me wild.

‘Fuck, Mase, feels so good,’ I moan in a high-pitched tone against his ear, the boy cursing, his pace increasing after hearing the desperation in my voice. He rests his weight on one forearm, his other hand slipping between our bodies to draw harsh circles at my clit. It’s all too much – his cock hitting the soft spot inside me, his fingers rubbing at my clit, his noises in my ear – and I feel myself hurtling towards my high.

‘Is my pretty baby gonna cum on my cock for me? Come on, babe, you’re so close. Cum around me like a good little slut, baby,’ he murmurs against my ear, thrusting particularly hard as he presses down on my clit, and I cry out his name as my orgasm washes over me. My walls clamp down around him, so tight he can’t move, so he gets me through my orgasm by rubbing harshly at my clit, sucking bruises onto my neck as my nails dig into his back, scratching lines across his skin.

My walls loosen around him once I start coming down, and he takes the opportunity to start fucking into me again, chasing his own orgasm. The overstimulation is too much, my body still twitching with aftershocks, body squirming beneath his.

‘Come on, baby, you can take it. Be a good girl for me,’ he breathes out, words broken up with curses and moans, and despite the tears running down my face, I want to do as he says. So I do my best to get him there, engaging what sanity I have left to meet his thrusts, clenching around him, kissing and biting along his jaw.

‘Fuck, y/n, I’m gonna cum, babe,’ he groans, burying himself deep in me as he moans my name, filling me with his release again. He thrusts into me slowly to get himself through his orgasm before pulling out when he’s done, cum dripping out of me.

‘You’re such a good girl for me, baby,’ he murmurs, collecting up the cum that’s trickling across my skin before pushing it back into me with a two fingers, prompting an ‘mmm’ sound from low in my throat, legs closing around his hand.

‘Let me clean you up,’ he says, half to himself, and he gets up off the bed and pulls his boxers back on before heading into the en suite. My body relaxes back into the duvet, skin damp with sweat and chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and I focus on the music so I don’t drift off to sleep, my body exhausted.

I can feel Mason’s hands on me as he cleans me up with a damp towel but I don’t register anything he says and I can’t focus my eyes on him either, lids sliding shut after a few seconds. When they reopen, it’s clearly been a while – Mason’s pulled the covers over my body and put a fresh pair of pants on me. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand and a bottle of water beside him. All the presents he got me are sitting on my vanity table, the bouquet of flowers on my bedside table, and I admire them with a warm feeling in my chest.

‘Mase,’ I say, voice hoarse, and he turns to look at me with a smile. ‘She’s back,’ he grins, lifting one of my hands to press a kiss to the skin, contentment filling me. ‘You okay?’ ‘Mmhmm,’ I hum in response as he hands me a bottle of water, watching as I gulp it down.

‘Why are you sitting there?’ ‘I thought it was a bit… presumptuous to get into bed with you without asking,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘You were just inside me.’ ‘Still.’ ‘Mason, I don’t have a problem with my boyfriend getting into bed with me,’ I say with a small smile, and he tilts his head amusedly.

‘I’m not your boyfriend. Well, I’m your fake boyfriend. I haven’t asked if I can be your real boyfriend yet,’ he reminds me, and I roll my eyes. ‘You don’t have to ask.’ ‘No, babe. You told me you dreamed of romance in a relationship, and I want to be the man of your dreams, so I’m gonna ask, with a big gesture and everything,’ he says, and I pout.

‘So I have to wait?’ I ask, and he shakes his head with a grin, reaching over and plucking the single pink rose out of the bouquet, handing it to me. When I hold it, I realise it’s not real, and I feel my eyebrows furrow in confusion. ‘It’s a forever rose. There was a card that I wrote to go with it but I chickened out and didn’t give it to you,’ he says, picking up his jeans from where they are on the floor, fishing out a note and handing it to me.

Happy Valentine’s Day, y/n. You’ll be in my heart until the last rose dies. Yours forever, Mason x

My eyes fill with tears, the boy laughing as he moves to sit beside me, pulling me into his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of my head. ‘You’re so cute, babe,’ he murmurs, and I shake my head. ‘No, you’re so cute! That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,’ I reply tearfully, Mason stroking my hair with a soft hand.

‘Look at the rose again,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, inspecting it. As I move it, I notice the light glinting off something between the petals. I pick it out with my nails, gasping at the sparkling pink sapphire set into a silver ring. ‘It matches the jewellery set. It’s a promise ring,’ he says, taking it from me and slipping it onto my left ring finger.

‘A promise for what?’ ‘A promise that I’ll replace it with an engagement ring and then a wedding ring, if that’s what you want. A promise that I’ll love you forever, y/n,’ he says softly, and I turn to look at him with wide eyes. ‘Love?’ ‘What else, babe? Since the moment I saw you, I knew. You were gonna change my life, and now I can’t imagine it without you and all your pink. I love you, y/n,’ he whispers, and I let out a teary laugh, pulling him in for a kiss.

‘You still haven’t asked me,’ I say suddenly, breaking apart from him, and he laughs. ‘y/n, will you be my girlfriend?’ ‘Yes!’ I exclaim, pulling him back into a kiss. ‘I love you too,’ I whisper into the kiss, feeling his lips curve up into a smile. ‘Are you sure?’ he asks, breaking away from me, and I laugh. ‘Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve only just realised it, but I know it now. I love you, Mason Mount,’ I smile, the boy pulling me into his arms with a chuckle. ‘I love you more, my clueless girl.’

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #chelsea fc

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ladymarycrawley · 2 years

Text

Mummy was mine first - Mason Mount

Request: I have a request of a drunk Mason with his newly pregnant girlfriend - him getting all emotional thinking the new baby will take his girl away from him. Stuff like lifting her shirt and talking to his baby saying things like “remember your mummy was mine first 🥺”

Warning: Mason may sound like a prick in this but it was just for the sake of the story 💔

Tag list: @masonxomount @chelsealover @masterclassbaby

The moment you told Mason you were pregnant with your first child, he swore he couldn’t have been happier. He was literally on cloud nine, eager to live that unique and special experience with you, the love of his life.

As most of the things we have to deal with throughout our lifetime, it wasn’t all fun and games as expected. Actually you had to deal with a lot of changes that would come as the result of your newly found condition: the mood swings, the cravings, all the shopping for the baby, all the readings on how to teach things to your baby, how to grow him up perfectly and, at last but not least, all the potential dangers you had to be careful of.

It was a hell of a ride but it was worth it in the end, or that’s what you hoped at least.

He was absolutely crazy for you and he wanted to remember that image of you forever. Mason grabbed his Polaroid and took the most beautiful pictures of you naked, with your hair dishevelled on the pillow, the white bed sheets covering your lower body as you let your hands caress your baby bump.

In that moment the English footballer swore he never saw a woman as gorgeous as you, he really meant it when he said that the pregnancy made you even more beautiful than you already were. He thought it turned you into a goddess, as he couldn’t care less about the commonly called flaws you always complained about such as your stretch marks, your swollen feet, the extra weight you gained. He took every chance he got to make you feel loved, to give love to every inch of your body.

You sighed and shook your head as you got seated on the bed, looking for your t-shirt.

“Mason, stop it”

“You’re stunning, come on!” He giggled, holding the camera with one hand and lifting your chin up with the other, holding then your face in place to kiss you on the lips.

Mason shot a couple more pictures of you before putting the camera to the side and starting to kiss you passionately.

He was standing before you, balancing himself with his right leg bent over the mattress, at the side of your thigh.

The ardour that inflamed your kiss was so strong he straddled you, hovering over you, always being careful of your bump.

He gently led you towards the soft surface beneath, so you could be in a more comfortable position while he made you feel his love.

You didn’t have the slightest intention to move, you just wanted to stay there basking in the relaxing yet exciting feelings only he could give you. Your legs were loosely wrapped around his middle as his right hand was delicately keeping your thigh up while the left one was holding your arms back on the blanket, above your head.

A moan escaped your lips as you felt his fingers fiddling with your knickers.

During the pregnancy, even if it was something common for most women, you started developing a sense of discomfort towards your body: it was inevitably changing but, since you've never been that self confident, those major changes were only increasing the doubts about the beauty or the attractiveness of your curves.

Mason was willing to do everything that was in his power to make you enjoy sex without making you feel guilty, embarrassed or in pain. That's why you spent a whole afternoon on a website the ob gyn suggested you to have pregnant sex safely, to learn all the pros and cons of such a pleasurable activity during a time where things might have gotten a little more difficult.

Whenever your mind took you back to that afternoon you couldn't help but smile, both because it was a funny memory and because seeing Mason so careful and attentive towards you to make you feel better, filled your heart with more love. But reading advice and theories was a thing, putting them into practice was another, even more so since your belly was getting bigger, leading you through the third trimester.

“Mase, the -”

“Yep, the belly is in the way, I know” You both giggled, Mason was really caught up in the moment he didn’t think about the six (nearly seven) months belly you had to deal with.

He sighed, sitting on the bed again.

"It's not just that, my back hurts a little more today"

Mason helped you up, careful not to hurt you, massaging your aching muscles.

"I just ruined your sex drive" You let out in a low voice, feeling kind of bad.

"Hey hey, you didn't ruin anything, that's okay" He kissed your temple in the sweetest way. "Here, let's see if this one is more comfortable" Mason gestured for you to lay back on the pillows he put there to ease your back pain so your body was resting on the edge of the bed while his body was standing before yours, a little bent over.

You smiled at each other until your boyfriend's lips moved upwards to kiss your forehead, tracing your jaw next and ending on your neck.

In order not to weigh on your stomach, Mason kneeled down on your bedroom floor as his hands were on your hips and his mouth was leaving little hot kisses and bites against the soft skin of your thighs.

You would have liked to have sex with your boyfriend so bad but apparently your body didn't have the same intention: apart from the back pain, there were also those hateful little voices in your head the kept on saying you were embarrassing, that you didn't deserve the hot man which was your boyfriend to to make love to you because you were obscene, which wasn't the truth of course.

"I - I can't do it" You placed your hands on Mason's shoulders to make him stop.

He raised his head, frowning at your sudden halt.

"Sorry babe, I can't do this" You sniffled in the attempt not to burst out crying.

"That's okay" Mason said in a low voice, getting back on his feet and helping you up.

Various thoughts were beginning to crowd Mason's head too: he started asking himself what could have possibly gone wrong, weren't you really okay or was he just underestimating some signals he should have been careful of? You weren't attracted to him anymore??

He tried to fight all that brainwork while helping you get your clothes back on, doing the same with himself some minutes later.

"I'm sorry Mase, I really wanted to do that but -"

"I know, I know. Don't worry, it's fine" He faked a smile and left a gentle peck over your lips before leaving your bedroom and going to his game room. He needed to distract his mind a bit and maybe you needed some time alone too.

You huffed and went to the bathroom to fill the bath tub with some hot water and a rose scented water bomb to relax your sore body and your tired mind all the same. Warm water would also reduce some of the weight your spine had to sustain whic was a huge relief, making bath time something you had been really looking forward to at least once a day.

The last thing on your mind was upsetting Mason but you were sure he would have understood how you were feeling during that delicate moment.

In the other room, Mason’s attempt not to dwell on what happened an hour ago didn’t work as he was there, with his headphones on, his fingers shifting over the controller, his stare fixed on the screen before him but his mind was still on you. He knew a thing as big as the arrival of a baby would have changed your priorities but it didn’t want you to change the way you looked at him: he still wanted to be your hero, your everything, he was afraid he wasn’t ready to leave hthe place in your heart for the baby girl who would have been there in a couple of months.

Maybe he was just a bit moody, maybe he was being childish but that concern was something that had been keeping him awake for a whole week now.

Mason turned off the console, putting away all the other devices he used during game time and started wandering around the house looking for you as he came to the conclusion that the best and wisest thing he could do was sharing what his real thoughts were with you, the love of his life and the mum of his daughter.

“Y/N?”

The first room he checked in was the right one as he pushed the bathroom’s door ajar open and the image of you, standing applying some moisturising over your legs, welcomed him.

A small smile appeared on his lips as he entered the room wrapped in a cloud of heat reminding him you liked to take your shower and bath in hot, very hot water.

“Why didn’t you call me to help you get out of the tub?”

“Didn’t want to disturb you plus I’ve managed to do it myself” You say, a small note of pride in your voice.

Mason’s eyes roamed over your body, taking in your every movement and passing you the clean underwear and pajamas (that is to say a pair of joggers and one of his t-shirts) for the night.

"This may sound weird but... I don't like thieves"

"What?" You stopped massaging your face with the night lotion in order to understand what Mason was meaning with that apparent nonsense sentence he just spoke.

"Yeah I don't like people that steal things from me"

"Mason, are you okay? Who stole you what?"

He scoffed, somehow annoyed. He blankly stared down at his feet, as a child would do once getting scolded over something.

"The baby"

"Mase baby, sorry but I'm afraid I don't follow you"

You really were clueless about what he was complaining about, feeling a bit powerless too as you wanted to help him but it seemed kind of hard doing so with him not being clear about what his problem was. You noticed there was something weird in him that day but didn't understand what.

He huffed, getting closer to your body leaning against the basin, looking in the mirror in front of you reflecting both his pout and your frown.

Mason looked down at your exposed collarbone before moving a strand of hair behind your ear. He then laid his head where his glance was, uttering against your skin. "I don't want her to take you away from me"

"Oh Mase" You cooed. He was the cutest human being ever in that moment. He didn't seem like a man who was about to become a dad at all, he felt like a kid who's about to become the older brother and doesn’t want the newcomer to steal his parents' affection.

You started scratching the back of his neck affectionately, placing lingering kisses on the top of his head.

"I can assure you nothing bad will happen. She won't take me away from you, no one will ever. You two will be the most precious humans in my life, I'll love you more than words can express and I'll cherish every moment with the both of you"

Your lips took the place of your fingers, leaving kiss after kiss on his nape, where his hair was the shortest.

Mason sighed, a sad but relieved sigh, as if your remarks comforted him but he wasn't sure enough, as if he needed some more encouraging and endearing words from you.

"You know I love you, right?"

"I don't know"

"What does it mean you don't know??" Your tone feigning shock and disbelief.

"I don't know if you'll love her more than me"

"Oh…you're more of a child than the one I'm carrying in my belly, I swear"

He rolled his eyes at the sarcasm you were using to answer his apparently silly worry. Your reaction made him feel unappreciated, as you didn’t care enough about what caused him that sense of uneasiness.

Mason left you there standing in the bathroom as he let his stressed limbs lay on the soft bed in your bedroom.

“Mase? Are you serious?” You followed him in your room.

“Nevermind, don’t fell like talking now” He uttered, his words muffled as he was keeping his face flat against his pillow.

“Oh my goodness” You closed your eyes, stroking the bridge of your nose back and forth with your finger. The way he was acting was becoming rather annoying, to be honest, and you were too tired to fight for a useless cause with a grown man that was just, in your opinion, throwing a tantrum. “Okay. I’ll be on the sofa eating ice-cream and watching Netflix, if you wanna talk you know where to find me”

You left him there and went to take your spot on the grey sofa downstairs, ready to binge watch the latest season of Derry Girls while scoffing down what was left of your beloved brownie and cookie ice-cream that became a must of your pregnancy by now.

If there was something you hated dealing with was discussing with Mason especially now, where the smallest of inconvenience would bring tears to your eyes.

The moment your view was interrupted by the sound of his footsteps approaching, you sighed under your breath, determined to act as if you hadn't heard him. Until when he took a seat beside you and you felt his eyes burning through you.

“Do you want a spoonful?” You asked him to break the ice.

“Nope, I’d never steal my baby mama’s favourite ice-cream”

That line was supposed to bring a smile to your face and it succeeded in doing so.

“Stop talking about stealing”

You averted your sight from the screen only when Mason placed his head on your thighs, making the butterflies in your stomach come alive.

With your one free hand, you started stroking his cheeks, moving them to massage his scalp.

“What’s troubling you, Mase?”

After you heard him emitting a loud sigh you knew the thing was getting serious so you just paused the tv to have your full attention set on him.

“It’s just - I’m afraid the miss here will steal you from me, that you’ll give her all your love and attention and when it comes to me you’ll be too tired to even look at me”

“Mase -”

“I’m so worried about this, Y/N. I know, this may sound as something childish or immature but I don’t want anything to change between us, apart from changing nappies and things like that”

You let out a soft chuckle and shifted in your seat to face him, as he had gotten up from your lap to seat properly.

“Look, I didn't mean to be harsh earlier, I’m sorry, but you hurt me when you said you weren’t sure whether I loved her more than you. I meant it when I said I’ll love you more than words can ever say. The baby will need all our attention and love and maybe yes, it’ll arrive a moment when we’ll be too tired to even kiss each other goodnight but it’s part of the process”

“I know but…I’m sorry, I wasn’t the one talking, it felt as if someone just took over me and spoke words I didn’t mean to say. I know it’s not easy having to deal with that ever growing belly but sometimes I just feel like I’m not doing enough to make you feel good and I hate that. I know she’ll need all our love, I’ve started loving her the moment you told me we would’ve become parents but sorry...I’ve been feeling weird lately” ”

The promise you made yourself not to cry, failed miserably and your orbs started getting watery with tears.

“You have nothing to reproach yourself for, Mason, really. It’s just - oh great, I’m a mess and she started kicking like a fucking footballer”

Mason chuckled and he promptly put his hand over the hump she formed pressing her feet against your belly.

“She learnt from the best” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“The fact is that…I appreciate every little thing you do to make my pregnancy a little more bearable and I’m so grateful for you, every single moment of my life but the truth is I don’t appreciate my changing body as much as you do and I always feel hideous, I’m really embarrassed of myself... the thought you want to make love to me feels absurd to me” You burst out crying and Mason had to hug you tightly to calm you down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make all of this about me”

“That’s okay and stop feeling sorry for everything. I love you so fucking much. I’m the one who has to be sorry” He let his lips linger against your forehead, detaching from your body when he felt your baby’s kick against his ribcage which was where your belly was leaning against.

He lowered himself further so his face was now at the same height as your stomach, lifting your t-shirt up so your bump was on full display. The moment Mason’s strokes met your swollen skin, your daughter calmed down a bit, giving you a rest.

“I think she’s a bit angry” You said, adjusting yourself against the armrest of the sofa so you could spread your bent legs more to let Mason make himself comfortable against your own body.

“Oh, daddy made you angry? I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Daddy didn’t mean to make his little princess angry, nor your mummy... it’s just that he loves your mummy so much…remember she was mine first, okay?”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d think you are drunk”

“I’m drunk in love”

“Oh Mase…”

“And now please baby, behave and don’t hurt mama cause she and dada have things to do”

“What kind of things do we have to do?”

“The ones where dada helps mama to love herself more…”

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landoncrris · 1 year

Note

Can you do one with mason where the reader was on a girls holiday or she was doing something for work in a different country then masons tells her he’ll pick her up from the airport and he forgets,so when she comes home with an Uber she finds him getting ready to go out and they have a fight but after the make up:)

forgotten - mason mount x reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN // MASTERLIST

word count: 2.9k

You were on a girls trip for the past week, since your best friend was getting married soon and you decided to spend some time abroad. For her, it was the perfect way to relax since she has been busy organizing the wedding for the last few months. But also for you, since you have been busier than ever with work lately.

You spent the whole day lying on the beach, enjoying the sun and partying all night. So it was safe to say that you were more than ready to go home and spend a relaxing evening in front of the TV, snuggled up with your boyfriend. Who you missed more than anything, as you also barely spent any time with him lately due to your busy schedule. When he called you yesterday and asked when you would arrive, and then told you he would be waiting for you at the airport, relief flooded your body.

You called him as soon as you got off the plane and waited for your suitcase, but he didn’t answer the phone. You figured he was probably still on the road, so he didn’t pick up. But when you tried it again ten minutes later, he still didn’t answer the phone. You declined your friends’ offer to take an Uber together, thinking that if he was on his way, you couldn’t just leave yet.

But after you had waited outside in the cold for thirty minutes, it was obvious that he wasn’t picking you up anytime soon. Which annoyed you, especially since you were tired and would have liked to just fall into bed. Your shivering body didn’t make the situation any better, and since you weren’t planning on standing in the cold, you weren’t exactly wearing warm clothes. However, there was also a part of you that was worried about whether something might have happened to him on the way. But you ignored that thought, thinking that he must have fallen asleep and didn’t set an alarm.

What you didn’t expect was that music was blaring from upstairs as you entered your shared home. You somehow managed to carry your things upstairs, which only made your mood even worse. And when you opened the door to your bedroom, the music got even louder, apparently coming from your bathroom. By then you guessed where he was and what he was up to.

He didn’t even acknowledge you when you opened the door, as he was busy looking at himself in the mirror and fixing his hair. It smelled as if he had showered not long ago, but he wasn’t dressed in comfortable clothes. No, he was wearing cargo pants and a grey sweater that was obviously sprayed with perfume, which you could smell even from your place at the door.

“Oh— for fucks sake, Y/N!” he suddenly yelled as he finally spotted you out of the corner of his eye. He placed a hand on the spot where his heart was beating as he breathed heavily before a few breathless giggles left him. He turned down the music from his phone before walking over to you, placing his hands on your waist and his lips touching your forehead. In response, you didn’t move at all, not giving in to his touch like you normally would.

“Hey, love, I didn’t know you were home already.” he said softly before leaning in to kiss your lips. But you turned your head to the side before he could, causing him to furrow his brows. You could smell a small amount of alcohol on his breath, which only fueled your anger.

“What’s with you, grumpy?” he laughed, squishing your cheeks with his fingers. In response, you pulled his hands away from you and took a step back, his expression hardening as you were obviously not in a good mood at all. He just didn’t know why or what it had to do with him. You could read that in his face, which made you scoff.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, stepping away from you again to check the time and turn off the music altogether. But you decided to ignore his question, seeing that he obviously had to be somewhere.

“Where are you going?”

“Out. With some friends. But i shouldn’t be long.” he said, as if it were no big deal. And it was in fact not a big deal to him. Apparently, he didn’t even know when you’d be home, which made you wonder if the rare free time the two of you got to spend together meant anything to him at all.

“You’re unbelievable.” you sighed, turning your back on him, thinking to yourself that you’ll just make the most of the evening by starting dinner. “You want to tell me what I did, maybe?” he called after you. But you kept walking anyway.

“If you don’t know, I can’t help you.”

“Just tell me.” he sighed, putting his phone in his backpocket and walking down the stairs behind you. In the kitchen, you stopped and looked in the fridge to decide what to eat.

“So there’s absolutely no memory of you saying you’d pick me up at the airport?” He screwed up his face at that sentence, at which you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. He was silent for a moment, but you spoke up again just as he opened his mouth. “Oh right, I’m sorry, going out was more important, of course.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were coming home tomorrow like you said you would.” he deliberately repeated your words to provoke you, which let you know that arguing with him was unnecessary at the moment. He obviously didn’t want to admit he was wrong. You put what you got from the fridge on the counter, not looking at him, and tried to calm down for a moment.

“I told you not even twenty-four hours ago that I was coming home today, Mason.” you sighed, while you started preparing your dinner, still without looking at him once.

“Fine. I’m sorry. I forgot, happens to everyone.”

“That’s not the point,” you groaned, finally looking at him as he glared at you from his spot on the other side of the kitchen island. He just raised his eyebrows, silently prompting you to explain before looking at the time on his phone again. “I wanted nothing more than to come home and spend time with you. But no, you’re going out and forgot I was even coming home today.”

“What do you want me to do? I made plans with my friends first, I can’t cancel now.” he said. You then closed your eyes in frustration. Part of you still hoped he could stay, but the other, larger part of you just wanted him to leave because you were tired of talking to a wall.

“We made plans first tho.” you broke the eye contact and turned around, whereupon you heard him scoff behind you.

“Yeah, for which I thought was tomorrow.”

“Just leave, Mason.” you said, deciding that your evening would probably get worse if he stayed any longer and your argument might escalate because of it. What pissed you off again though was that he immediately did as you said and took his wallet and jacket from the counter, but before he left the room he muttered something else, “I’m late now anyway, thanks to you.”

After he left, you tried to make the most of your evening, showering after dinner and slipping into your pajamas before sitting down on the couch and turning on your favorite show. For hours, you told yourself, “Just one more episode,” and didn’t want to go to bed, even though you so desperately needed the sleep. Somehow you chose that excuse to keep waiting for Mason to come back, but you didn’t hear from him. All you saw was the picture of him that one of his friends had posted, grinning at the camera as usual. No sign of the little argument you had before he left.

Around midnight you finally decided to give up and go to bed, because waiting was pretty pointless, either you would ignore each other or fight again. But somehow you still couldn’t sleep properly, so a few hours after going to bed you heard him stumble into the house. But he didn’t come upstairs, which made you think he was trying to avoid you, when in fact you hadn’t done anything wrong. Unfortunately, he was just that stubborn.

As soon as you woke up the next morning, you remembered your argument from the night before, which made you want to go back to sleep and preferably not get up at all today. But you still had the feeling that as soon as you rolled over, Mason would be lying next to you, sleeping peacefully. But when you turned over, you found an empty bed and a completely clean room. There was no sign that he was in your bedroom, so you assumed he was sleeping in another room and wearing the same clothes as last night. Which only made you want to go back to sleep even more.

You weren’t actually mad at him for forgetting to pick you up or because he had plans with his friends, you just felt like he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him. Ever since you left for your short holiday, you had been counting the hours until you would finally see him again. But after he forgot about you, and after the way he welcomed you home, you were almost certain he wasn’t looking forward to your return as much as you were. Or as it seemed so far, not at all.

You did manage to get up after a while, though, especially since you were so hungry that you felt it would have been impossible to go back to sleep. When you went down the stairs, you definitely didn’t expect to notice the smell of food coming from the kitchen, since you didn’t hear anything from upstairs. And that’s why you expected Mason to still be asleep.

When you got to the kitchen, you saw him standing there in front of the stove, and he was indeed still wearing the same sweater as last night, except that he had gotten rid of his cargo pants, probably before he went to sleep. You saw him turn and look at you as you made your way to the fridge, but you tried to avoid any eye contact.

“Y/N.” he sighed, which sounded to you like he was annoyed. For a moment you felt bad, even though you had done nothing wrong.

“Sorry, I’ll leave you alone.” you said, quickly grabbing a yogurt from the fridge and wanting to head back upstairs where you couldn’t annoy him. But before you could leave, he stopped you by standing in front of you.

“No, that wasn’t what I meant,”

“It’s fine, I—”

“I made you breakfast,” he interrupted you, and a small smile appeared on his face as you finally looked up into his face instead of staring at your hands or his chest as you had been doing, “your favorite.” he added, whereupon you looked over to the counter where there was already a ready plate, so you guessed he was making himself breakfast right now too.

“You didn’t actually think making me breakfast was going to make everything fine again, did you?” you scoffed, trying to make your way past him, but he blocked your path with his arm this time, which certainly didn’t help your anger at him.

“Just stay and eat. Please?” at this you let out a defeated sigh and sat down on the bar stool across from the stove. You didn’t feel like arguing with him any further, especially not when he made you your favorite breakfast that you can never say no to. You just sat there for a few moments while you took a few bites of your food, still trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted the silence between you, “I was an arse.” and you gave him a few more moments to see if there was more to his apology, maybe a better attempt than just saying “i’m sorry” but he said nothing more. Which only frustrated you that little bit more.

“It’s fine.” you sighed, trying once again to avoid another argument.

“You sure? Because a minute ago, you still seemed pretty upset.”

“I’m not upset, Mason.” you groaned, looking up at him you realized he wouldn’t recognize the secret message behind your words. And you weren’t in the mood to tell him, still ashamed of the fact that you clearly missed him more than he missed you. “Whatever, I’m not hungry anymore.” you said as you pushed yourself up from your spot on the bar stool, but he stopped you once again by stepping in front of you. You rolled your eyes. But he didn’t want you to leave while you were still angry, it was bad enough that you went to sleep angry because you promised that would never happen. Even though he knew he was the only one to blame, really.

“Y/N, talk to me, please.” he could see that something was bothering you, that you weren’t just upset or angry with him, because otherwise you would have acted very differently and certainly not as calmly as you were acting now.

“I’m not upset Mason,” you repeated what you had already said before looking him in the eye to tell him what you really meant by that, “I’m hurt.” you almost whispered, and just as he opened his mouth to say something, you spoke up and tried to walk past him again.

“It’s fine, really. I get it if you don’t want me around, so I’ll just spend the day with—”

“What?” he said quickly, pulling you to him by your wrist, whereupon you fell silent. “Why do you think that I wouldn’t want you around?”

“Because of how you acted.” you admitted, and as you looked into his eyes, you noticed that tears were threatening to spill over yours. At that, you looked down again. You didn’t even know what exactly had you so emotional, you just knew that you had missed him like crazy and that finally being with him again but not being able to do or say all the things you wanted to do because he had caused a stupid fight, was even worse than missing him.

“Y/N.” said Mason, trying to get you to look at him again. But when you didn’t, he forced you to look up by putting a hand under your chin. And when he too saw the tears that were in your eyes, his heart clenched. He hated seeing you like that, and knowing he was the cause of it was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. He pressed his lips together into a line as his hand moved to your cheek, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear as he thought of the right words to say.

“I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you and I missed you so, so much— God, I don’t know why I acted the way I did. I had this whole perfect day planned today and I was so looking forward to it. I have no excuse for forgetting you and then acting like that, I was a total arse, but I really am so fucking sorry. I swear I will never hurt you again. Or make you feel like I don’t want you around, because if I could, I would have you around every second for the rest of my life, Y/N.” Mason said, all while never stop looking you in the eye. And even though part of you was still mad at him for what had happened, you believed him. That was more than enough to make you smile a little at that moment.

“Just tell me what I can do to make it up to you. Whatever it is, I’ll do it.” he said, his hand still resting on your cheek, his thumb slowly stroking it. While his heart was pounding in his chest, afraid that what he said wasn’t enough. Though he really couldn’t blame you if you were still mad at him.

“For starters, you could finally hug me and welcome me home properly.” you said, which elicited an adorable smile from Mason. He didn’t have to be told twice, because he longed for it as much as you did, so he immediately wrapped his arms around you. As a result, you wrapped yours around his waist and hugged him tightly, while your head found its usual place right under his chin. Making him put his chin on your head, and as he breathed in the smell of your shampoo, he finally felt at peace again.

However, your moment was interrupted by a loud stomach growl that made you both giggle. You felt him press a kiss to the top of your head before breaking away from the embrace.

“Maybe you should eat your breakfast after all, love.”

#mason mount #mason mount oneshot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfiction #chelsea fc #england nt #chelsea imagine #england nt imagine #football imagine #football #fanfiction #oneshot #fluff

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mounts89 · 1 year

Text

card sharks, playing games

Part 1: Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch

Pairing: Mason Mount x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Summary: Mason x reader play a dangerous game of cat and mouse, each trying to outmaneuver the other. Moving with the grace of dancers, your steps are calculated and precise as you circle around each other, playing mind games and testing your limits. Getting lost in the game, unable to resist the pull of each other.

This series will contain fluff, angst, and potentially smut (depending on how I feel about writing it for the first time.)

Note: This had started as a oneshot idea (that was headed a different direction), but I think I like this better. I hope you enjoy reading this and look forward to the next part :) Your feedback is greatly appreciated!

Part 1: Put your lips close to mine, as long as they don’t touch

As you walk into the house with your friend, Mabel, the first thing that hits you is the thumping beat of the music, so loud, you can barely hear your thoughts. As you look around, you can see groups of people chatting, and laughing with drinks in hand. However, what really catches your eye are the famous group of footballers, influencers, and minor Z-list celebrities. You and Mabel exchange a knowing look, thrilled to be part of such a vibrant scene.

You see Ben’s face light up across the room as he sees Mabel, rushing to the door to greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t believe you made it. Thank you for coming.” Ben says to her before turning to you and doing the same with a smile.

As the story went, she had met his sister at the gym, who just so happened to set them up on a blind date a few weeks ago. Since then, they had begun going out and from what you had heard and from what you could see, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

“And you must be Y/N. Nice to finally meet you,” he continues while addressing you.

You return the smile at his hospitality. Not being able to concentrate on his words, in shock at the fact that you find yourself surrounded by some of your favourite footballers.

Ben introduces you to some people as he walks you across to his hall, but your mind has no time to remember who is who, the situation you find yourself in leaving you completely enthralled.

You finally get to the kitchen, and he grabs one of the twenty bottles of liquor sitting on his counter, tequila. He grabs three shots glasses, one for each of you.

As you’re standing around waiting for him to pour, from the corner of your eye, you notice him. He’s not even two feet away. I mean, how could you not notice him. He stands out among all of the people around you. Not just because of his height and physique, his flushed cheeks, and his loud laughter. A laugh that echoes in your head as soon as you hear it, one you’re sure you could recognize anywhere after having heard it for only a few seconds.

He stands out. Not just because of his flushed rosy cheeks and relaxed demeanour. Not just because he had been clearly drinking. But also because of the way he effortlessly commands attention. Because of the way his given charm seemed to have the people around him (yourself included) cling to every word he says and laugh at every joke he tells.

“Hey, pour one more. And bring your friend over there, the one with the glasses,” you whisper to Ben, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

You shock yourself at your sudden boost of confidence, but you figure that you only have one chance to get to know him.

Immediately, Ben follows your gaze in his direction and smirks.

“Mase, come here!” he shouts over the music, as he pours another shot.

Mabel, immediately catching onto your game, grabs Ben’s arms towards the living room, sending you a wink as she leaves Mason and you alone.

“Well, I guess we can do these together then?” you speak to him for the first time as you gesture to the four shots that had been poured out.

“You know, you could at least tell me your name before you try to get me drunk,” he smiles at you as he takes his glasses off, placing them over your head.

“I’m afraid,” you begin, taking the first shot, “you’re already drunk. You have that drunk glow. But if you must know, I’m Y/N,” you say as you take the second shot. Immediately, you regret it, feeling the familiar burn in the back of your throat.

But you figured, that if you wanted to keep your confidence streak going, tequila sure as hell would help.

He chuckles, looking at you as you pick up the next shot glass, immediately grabbing your hand to stop you.

“Well Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Mason.” he smiles as he takes the drink from your hand to his lips.

“I know. I saw you on TV at the World Cup. Number 19, I think.”

“That’s me,” his eyes widen with amusement, “so you're a football fan?”

“It’s the World Cup, everyone was watching,” you tell him, not wanting your cover to blow. Of course, you were a football fan and a Mason fan at that. But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, at least.

“Fair,” he tells you, seemingly convinced by your answer.

“Do you smoke?” you ask him immediately, changing the subject.

“Nope, do you?”

You knew the answer, of course, he didn’t. He’s a professional athlete, for God’s sake.

“No, just wanted an excuse to go outside and get some fresh air.”

“You know,” he chuckles, “if you wanted to take me out, you could’ve just asked without making an excuse.”

You roll your eyes at him but feel grateful that, at least, he wouldn’t take the night too seriously.

Nonetheless, he motions towards the back door and gives you a knowing smile, suggesting that he, too, wanted to escape the noise and commotion of the party. As he leads you through the crowded living room, you feel his hand gently guiding you through the throngs of people.

As you as you step outside into the backyard, you’re struck by the sudden quietness. You swear you could hear his and your heartbeats in sync. The contrast between the chaotic energy of the party inside and the serenity of the outdoors is stark, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you.

He gestures for you to follow him towards a secluded corner of the garden, where a small seating are had been set up with a soft glow of fairy lights illuminating the space.

Dreamy, you think to yourself.

As you settle into the comfortable cushion, he leans dangerously close to you, his voice low and hushed as he speaks to you.

“So, Y/N, you know what I do, it’s only fair you tell me what you do.”

“I’m a full-time student, doing my Master’s.”

“Smart and beautiful.”

You feel a nervous flutter in your chest as you dare to look into his eyes for the first time that night. Warm honey brown, you make a mental note. With a depth that seemed to draw you in. His gaze meets yours, and you can’t help but feel a sense of curiosity, intrigue, and mischief. It’s as if your eyes are speaking the same language to each other without saying anything. As if you were both starting to play a game that either:

You were both sure to win, or

You were both sure to lose.

It was both exhilarating and intimidating.

You roll your eyes at him for the second time that night, “How many of the girls in there have you used that line on?”

He laughs, “You’re the first one I’ve used it on tonight.”

“Very funny, Mason.”

“You know, I’ve been told that, apart from my amazing football skills, I also have a pretty good sense of humour.”

“Is that so?” your own smile playing at the corner of your lips. “Have you also been told that you’re quite humble.”

“Oh, it might’ve come up,” he retorts, “but, I’m more interested in seeing if I can make you laugh tonight.”

“You know, I’m not that easy,” you say with a teasing tone. “If your sense of humour is as good as your pickup lines, you’ll have to work harder than that.”

He leans in close to your ear, “Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” he whispers.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as his breath tickles your ear. You catch a whiff of his scent, a mixture of cologne and alcohol. He smells… strong and masculine, with notes of wood and spice that are both comforting and alluring. The kind of scent that makes you want to stay frozen in place and breathe him in. Mixed with the cologne, the unmistakable smell of alcohol lingers on his breath. You feel the liquor you’d had starting to take its own effect, intoxicating you when mixed with his body heat and the soft brush of his breath against your skin. You feel your senses being heightened. Feeling more alive than you had in a long time.

Sure, you were pushing his buttons, testing his limits. You knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t resist the thrill of the game.

“Well, I’m not going to make it easy for you,” you say with a flirtatious smile. “You’ll have to earn every laugh.”

◌ ◌ ◌

‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡 ◌ ☽︎ ◌

◌ ✩彡･ﾟ *:

◌ ◌

And that’s how the rest of the night went. Engaging in a subtle game of one-upmanship. Testing his boundaries, trying to outsmart him throughout the night.

The two of you only wander into the house occasionally to pour yourselves more drinks, and to laugh at his friends’ antics.

You also find yourself getting closer and closer to him. Physically, at least. At one point, you realized you were leaning in so close to him that your legs were practically intertwined. And before you knew it, you had somehow ended up sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. It felt electric. The tension -palpable as you felt his body shake whenever he laughed and when he looked into your eyes.

Just as you feel him leaning in. And if his mind is racing as much as yours is, he was leaning in for a kiss. You rack your brain, trying to come up with an excuse to get out of the situation.

As if by some divine intervention, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

He chuckles as he looks over you shoulder. “Looks like she’s looking for you,” he says, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You glance up at him, feeling vulnerable, all of a sudden sobering up as you notice how close you are. The unspoken push and pull that’s been building all night becoming all too apparent now.

He squeezes your waist, placing a chaste kiss on your neck, “Don't want to share you, don’t want tonight to end,” he says playfully, before pulling you in for an even tighter hug.

Your heart races as you feel his body against yours, and you can’t help but wonder what his kisses would feel like on your lips.

But you have to stay strong, you remind yourself.

Because, for as much as you’re enjoying his company, you don’t want to be just another girl on his list. As fun of a story as this would make, you needed to remind yourself that this, wouldn’t mean anything to him.

So you pull away from the embrace and give him a weak smile. You feel his eyes burning with a desire that you’re not quite ready to explore yet.

“I had a really great time, Mase, but unfortunately, I have to head out now,” you say, aware of the potential hangover looming over you the next morning.

“Aw, lover girl, do I get a goodnight kiss before you go?” he asks with a playful grin, finally asking the question that had been pondering his mind all night.

You pause, scared that he can hear the uncertainty in your thoughts. Kissing him tonight would only complicate things, you tell yourself.

“I have to be honest with you, I can’t kiss you.”

He looks at you disappointed as he asks, “You don’t have a boyfriend, now do you?”

You chuckle, “No, it’s not that, I just don’t want to risk ruining the great memory of tonight by complicating things with a kiss.”

He looks confused, so you explain, “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“The best,” he counters almost immediately.

“Exactly, I did too. This memory… This,” you gesture between each other, “will forever be great. But, if we kiss tonight, if might ruin this memory.”

“Why would it ruin it?”

“If we kiss, this becomes real. You might use too much tongue or not enough tongue. And then, suddenly... poof, spell’s broken.”

“I promise you, I will use exactly the right amount of tongue. Plus, I’m a great kisser, I have references.”

“Anyone in here?” you ask him, half-jokingly, half-seriously. Thinking of all of the gorgeous girls that were at the party, you were sure he had kissed a couple. That would explain some of the looks you had been getting from them.

He throws his head back, laughing with his entire body. Infectious and joyous, you can’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his energy radiating toward you.

But he doesn’t respond, you note.

As his laughter dies down, you lean in, savouring the tension between you. You know you shouldn’t do it, but you can’t resist the urge to tease him. You lean in even closer to him, lips mere centimetres apart. You decide to give him a taste.

You pull him in, enough to keep him intrigued.

You figure that, if you put your lips close to his, as long as they don’t touch, nothing is ruined. The memory is still great.

“And in any case,” you whisper, “the best part of a kiss is the anticipation. The excitement of wondering what’s going to happen. The build up…”

“And then,” he tells you, just low enough for you to hear, “when it finally happens, it makes it all the more special. Pure magic”

“Exactly. But, that moment can be just as special on its own, don't you think?”

Both of you don’t say anything. Staying in that position for what feels like an eternity. Fearful that, if you say anything, if you move, it will taint the memory.

You fight every urge to kiss him, muster up every bit of self-control you have before you place your hands on his eyes.

“Close your eyes,” you murmur. As he obliges, you pull away and stand up, finally making your way to the door. You don’t dare look back at him as you walk out.

And you’re confident that the memory of the night would stay with you, pure, and unadulterated. The laughter, the teasing, the anticipation, you’d remember it all for what it was.

Maybe it’s for the best that tonight stays as it is, no strings attached and no complications. Maybe it’s for the better to keep the memory of the night intact, keeping that mystery alive. Still, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Wondering what his lips would taste like.

But it’s all just part of the game, you tell yourself.

Walking outside, you see Mabel waiting for you, and the cold air suddenly hits you. Just now realizing how much his body heat was keeping you warm throughout the night.

Despite all of the emotions running through your body, however, you’re almost certain that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

You pull him in, enough to keep him intrigued.

But pull away, enough to protect your heart.

#mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount #mason x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #footballer x reader #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #chelsea football club #chelsea fc #card sharks playing games #mounts89 #mm19

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babygirlbenji · 2 years

Text

Questions & Surprises - Mason Mount

a/n: so i wrote this in lit about an hour on the plane at 36,000ft so if it's rubbish let's blame that x sorry it's so short also stay tuned to the end for the surprise x

What struck Mason from the moment he met you was your confidence. He’ll admit that he was a bit cocky, and assumed that you’d be scared to talk to him, Ben and Reece when your mutual friend introduced you to them, but he was surprised (in a good way) when you immediately struck up a conversation with them. Your conversations spread all the way from football, in which you had a small amount of knowledge, to travel to discussing what you did for your job.

Your answer was ‘content creation’, and Mason was even more intrigued. So, you spent the rest of the night talking him through everything about being a YouTuber, from planning and scheduling content to analytics (which was your personal favourite thing about being a YouTuber; you loved statistics and demographics).

As your relationship with Mason grew, so did your following and subscriber count as people figured out who you were and your relationship with him. Your GRWM videos started to include ‘GRWM for match days’ and travel vlogs. Your view counts skyrocketed, with your most popular video being the Champions League win, titled ‘THEY WON!!!😭💙’. The fans absolutely loved your relationship with Mason, seeing how happy you made him and how you supported him. Even when your videos weren’t entirely related to football match days, you still incorporated Mason into the process, and you loved seeing how into it he got. One of his favourite things was to watch you edit, muttering to yourself about ‘how do I go about moving that’ and ‘now I need to detach that audio’, and occasionally muttering swearwords to yourself when you fucked up.

Your favourite videos to film were Q&A’s and would you rather with Mason. It offered fans a rare glimpse of life into their favourite couple, and it was what you were filming today.

You and Mason had sat down on the sofa with the camera stood opposite you, house slowly starting to be decorated for Christmas.

‘Ready?’ You asked, about to hit record.

‘Course babe, I’m always ready!’ His response made you snicker, and you started to record.

‘What’s up, guys, it’s me Y/N!’ You started with your signature introduction. ‘And I’m here today with my boyfriend, Mason!’ He laughed as you started to cheer quietly. You made a mental note to add a crowd applause sound effect in while you were editing.

‘Hi guys,’ he said, almost shyly.

‘Today we are going to be answering some questions you guys asked us over on my Instagram. What do you reckon they’re going to ask us, Mase?’ Mason’s heart fluttered at the nickname you had for him, then he started to laugh.

‘“When are you getting married?!”’ You both started laughing at that; it was definitely the most asked question, seeing as you guys had been dating for nearly four years. His own family had started asking the same question. Little did they know that Mason had a sneaky plan up his sleeve.

‘Okay, okay, let’s get into it!’ You pulled out your phone to read the questions. ‘First question: “Mason, what was your first impression of Y/N?”’ Mason cocked his head to think about the question for a moment.

‘I think what really struck me was your confidence, like a lot of people are very shy when they meet me, not to sound big-headed or anything. But you were so confident and walked right up to us and struck up a conversation, it was really refreshing. And obviously you’re very beautiful.’ You smiled shyly.

‘Aww, babe, isn’t he a cutie?’ He returned your smile, and the fans would soon see how much adoration he had for you just in that smile. ‘Next question, “Y/N, what’s your dream company to collab with?”. Hmmm, there are so many, and so many amazing brands that I’ve already had the privilege of working with, but I’m gonna have to say National Geographic. I’ve been a Nat Geo fan ever since I can remember, when other kids my age were watching Thomas the Tank Engine, I was watching dinosaur documentaries or scaring myself with documentaries about airplanes crashing.’ You turned to look at Mason, whose face was a mixture of amusement and concern.

‘You’re weird.’ You shrugged.

‘Indeed, but look where it got me!’ The fans loved these kinds of exchanges between the two of you; full of banter yet also full of love and mutual respect. Yours was a relationship many can only dream of. You made sure you reminded yourself every day of how lucky you were to have a man like him.

The questions continued for another ten or fifteen minutes, and then you started to close it down.

‘Alright guys, unfortunately that’s all we have time for today! We…’

‘Actually, Y/N,’ Mason interrupted you, making you look over at him in confusion. ‘I have one question myself.’ He dug around in his pockets, and your eyes filled with tears when he pulled out a little red box. ‘Will you marry me?’ You looked at him, bewildered and delighted all at once, before looking over at the camera.

‘This isn’t staged, I promise you, are you being serious?’ He nodded, grinning.

‘Course I’m serious, darlin’! You’re the love of my life and I can’t imagine spending my life without anyone else. So, will you marry me?’ He opened the box, and you saw the prettiest ring you’d ever seen in your entire life. You nodded fiercely, tears spilling over your cheeks as you pulled him in for a hug.

‘Yes, yes, of course I will!’ You choked out a sob, pulling back from the hug to let him slide the ring onto your finger. It sparkled in the reflection of your studio lights, making you sob again. ‘Oh god, Mase it’s beautiful,’ you mumbled through the tears.

‘I love you, darling.’ You brought your hands up to his face and gently held it as you kissed him happily, smiling into the kiss. Before it got too heated, you remembered you were on camera, so you pulled apart. Vaguely aware your mascara was probably running down your cheeks, you threw your arm around Mason’s neck.

‘Okay, now that we’re definitely finished, thanks everyone for watching, I hope you enjoyed this video, see you next time! We’re engaged!’ You showed the camera your ring, before pressing the record button again to stop the recording. You looked over at Mason, who had an incomprehensible expression on his face. ‘How long have you been planning that?’ He shrugged.

‘Since June’s Q&A.’ Your jaw dropped.

‘You’ve been planning it for five months?!’ He grinned.

‘Wanted to make sure you weren’t expecting it.’

‘Well you definitely succeeded in that.’

The video went live a few days later, and it’s fair to say you were the most excited you’d ever been to post a video. You titled it ‘November Q&A!🤍 Surprise at the end!!!’. Within minutes of the premiere, you were getting comments:

masonfan19: OMFG?? ARE YOU KIDDING THIS IS SO CUTE

y/nismyidol: this is my favourite video ever!!! your reaction omg😭 ENDGAME!!!

masony/nforeva: i can’t wait for the wedding vlog!!!!

footballer23: YOUR REACTION OMG😭

Mason’s fellow footballers were WhatsApping him with congratulations, and you even had companies sending you congratulations. What really made your day was a comment that appeared on your Instagram photo a few days later. It was a screenshot of you just after Mason asked you to marry him; your jaw was open and tears were visible in your eyes. The comment read:

natgeo: We love this, and we’d love for you to message us about working together! Congrats! 😁

Mason didn’t dare to say it, but your reaction to seeing that comment was almost as effusive as when he asked you to marry him.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount x oc #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #mason mount oneshot #mason mount smut #mason mount blurb #mason mount x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #chelsea fc #england nt #premier league

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infinityerlingx · 1 year

Text

New Rules

pairing- mason mount x (fem)reader

a/n- this is based off of new rules by dua lipa :)

warnings- slight mentions of smut, swearing, toxic relationships

One, don’t pick up the phone, you know he’s only calling cause he’s drunk and alone

Your phone sat on the counter top, the ringing sounding like a continuous alarm going off. A glass of wine in one hand, you sat and sipped the drink as you watched his name pop up on the screen for the umpteenth time of the evening. It was nearing midnight, and you knew sober Mason wouldn’t be doing that. He had gone down the same route you had, alcohol.

You knew that he was bad for you, when you dated him, he was still bad for you and even now, broken up for weeks, it would always end up the same, him getting way over the limit, ringing you until you answered, which you always did. He was now often too hungover to play in the games, you got scared that he would end up getting dropped from the team, but then again, he wasn’t your issue anymore. Which you would love to be true, Mason still had a massive hold over you.

You watched the phone ring again, rolling your eyes, you slid the answer button, accepting his call.

“Y/N?” You heard a mumble down the phone.

“Mason I thought we agreed to stop this” You spoke, putting him on speaker and leaving your phone on the countertop.

“I can’t help it. I miss you” He slurred, the alcohol taking over his body once again.

“Mason you’re drunk, go to bed” You stated.

“I know I am, doesn’t mean I don’t miss you” He replied again, you heard him take a swig of a drink, which you suspected was another beer.

“Goodnight” You spoke bluntly.

“I’m sorry” Was the last thing you heard before you hung up the phone. Releasing a deep sigh, hoping that the words you had said stuck with Mason until he was sober. You couldn’t carry on the way you were, he needed to stop.

Two, don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again

A week since his last phone call, you had finally thought it was all over, you felt yourself relax after a long time. Sinking into your sofa, you looked around, any trace of Mason in your apartment had finally gone, you really thought it was over.

That was until a ring at your doorbell snapped you from your thoughts, you walked to the door, unlocking it and opening it slightly. That’s when you saw Mason’s face after weeks and weeks. You sighed deeply, opening the door a bit wider to see him fully. Stepping out of the way and letting him in without any thoughts.

“Mason what are you doing here?” You sighed, closing the door before turning to face him.

“I- I needed to come and see you, Y/N, it’s been so tough trying to stay away from you, distancing myself. i just can’t do it anymore” He stuttered before speaking again “I know you hate me and I understand that, I’m such a dick to you and I’m sorry”

“Sorry won’t cut it anymore, you treated me like complete crap and I’m not dealing with it or you any longer, I deserve better than you and I know for a fact that I do. I don’t think you realise that I spent countless nights crying because you wouldn’t tell me where you were or you were out with the “lads” when you were clubbing with other girls, you must think I’m completely stupid. Everything I did for you and that’s how I got repaid” You replied. “The amount of times I wished I would become a prettier person just to mend our relationship is beyond me”

“You never told me that” He spoke softly, referring to your last words. “I’m so sorry, you deserve better”

“I know I do, I don’t need you to tell me that, now what I want is you out of my house” Anger was bubbling inside of you as you stepped back towards the door, opening it widely and gesturing Mason out.

“Y/N can we just talk it out?” Mason spoke moving towards you.

“I have nothing to say, so goodbye Mason” You pushed his body out of the door. “Please, do not come back here”

Three, don’t be his friend, you know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the morning, and if you’re under him, you ain’t getting over him

How you ended up at an event with Mason you didn’t have a clue, you promised him when you were together that you would be his plus one, now here you were, dressed up all nice, watching him talk to a few friends, as you stood at the bar, a glass of champagne in your hand.

You had told the girls you were accompanying him as a ‘friend’, the girls didn’t believe you, they knew what you were like, once a few drinks were down you, it would go straight to your head and you would somehow end up with Mason at the end of the night, you hated it but you knew tonight would be no different. Neither of you could find someone new, no matter how much he hurt you, you would always go back to him. You watched him from afar, his black suit paired with golden jewellery, his white smile flashed in your direction. You wore a long black dress, a slit up one side, the same golden jewellery took over you. Anyone watching who didn’t know the story would think you were both still together. He looked ravishing, and you hated him.

Many drinks later, Mason was stood by your side, his large hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards a cab. You had drunkenly said yes to staying over at his for the night. You stumbled into the taxi and Mason got in after you. His eyes glued to you as he watched you apply another coat of lipgloss. Mason thought you were the prettiest girl in the world, despite his stupidity, he was always going to come back to you.

By the end of the night, you were pressed up against Mason’s bare chest as he gave you another mind blowing orgasm, his hands grasped your hips, His head ducked in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

“No matter how much we hate each other, we’re never going to get someone as good to each other, you’re mine and I’m yours forevermore” He spoke with a groan as he spilled inside of you. You hated to agree with him, but you knew he was right. No matter how many people you had been with, no one did it as well as Mason, he knew where you loved to be touched, he knew what got you going and he was perfect.

“I hate that you’re this good” You spoke.

“And I hate that you take me so good” He replied, pulling out of you and going to the bathroom to clean you both down.

Waking up in the morning with a banging headache was the least of your problems when you felt Mason’s strong arms around your middle and his soft snores down your ear, your naked body pressed to his own. You regretted it all, but once again, you knew that it wouldn’t be the last time that it happened.

#mason mount blurbs #mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount #mason #mount #chelsea fc #England nt #mason mount x y/n

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xtwinfantasy · 1 year

Text

Dream About Me

(Chapter 7) (Mason Mount/Kai Havertz)

pairing: Mason Mount / Kai Havertz (m/m)

summary: The team had its best season in a long time; qualification for European tournaments was almost in Chelsea FC's hands. The problems came right at the end of the season, when their young star player had to leave training due to the sudden death of his father, and when came back, he seemed to lose all his ability on the ball, as well as the person he used to be.

Mason starts the next season trying to get his life back on track and put the pain of that summer behind him, but everything changes when Chelsea's newest player, Kai Havertz, appears in his life. And in his dreams too… Is he dreaming?

Now, his new teammate will flip his world upside down in the craziest ways he could have ever imagined.

tags: Slow burn romance, Crush at first sight, Eventual fluff, Romantic comedy, Awkward flirting, Dreams (or not?), Late night conversations, References to depression, Grief/Mourning, Psychological drama, Drama & romance, kinda AU but not really, Mysterious Kai lol, Additional Tags to Be Added.

Start reading on:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

CHAPTER 7

After games at Stamford Bridge, traffic in the city was always a mess, and even more so when they coincidentally clashed with the home games of Arsenal, causing a complete mess on London's main thoroughfares. The complex of buildings in which most of the young men in the team rented flats was not too far from the stadium, usually taking only twenty or thirty minutes to get home by bus, but on special occasions like that, the time could stretch to two whole hours, even when Ben had offered to give him a lift.

—Hey, Ben —Mason called from the passenger seat. He wasn't looking at him, but at the traffic, at the cars almost completely stopped next to them, perhaps to keep him from noticing that his curiosity was less casual than he intended to make it seem— Can I ask you a question?

The older man raised an eyebrow.

—Uh, sure. What's the matter?

—Well, it just occurred to me... How do you know if a person is neurodivergent?

The horns of the cars around them blared from time to time over the music they were listening to, chosen by the car's owner, who lowered the volume a little before replying.

—You don't mean you, do you?

—No! No, no, no, actually it's just a bit of a, a curiosity about someone else, okay?

—Well, I want to clarify first that it would be unethical to talk to you about this being about you, let alone right now.

—It's not about me, seriously, it's not.

—Okey —He nodded, as the car moved forward under the green light at the traffic light. —Well, it's a little hard to answer that one, Mase. Neurodivergences are, in fact, very diverse, so they have very different kinds of particularities, and there are levels of functionality between the different types of neurodivergences, so it's very difficult to define common characteristics. The only thing I could tell you is that all neurodivergent people have mental and cognitive processes that do differ from the norm, but they don't always affect the same interactions with other people.

—Uh, so... Would it be possible for a neurodivergent person to have processes that affect...?

—Any aspect could be affected, but not necessarily in a negative way, just different from other people.

—And they... Do they realise that they are different?

—They can, it depends very much on the way their mental and cognitive processes work. Also, if they do, some neurodivergent people make great efforts to hide the characteristics of their neurodivergence in their relationships with other people.

—Oh. Hiding it to prevent people from knowing that they are neurodivergent?

—Yes, just as some people hide their ethnicity or sexual orientation, but that also depends on whether they want to do it or not. Some people find it too burdensome to have to do it all the time and may simply decide not to do it.

—Or do it only sometimes?

It made sense the way he had imagined it, and yet, taking into account the differences Ben had just mentioned, he felt completely inexperienced enough to even believe that he was now sure of the reasons for Kai's behaviour. It could explain a lot of things, but he wasn't going to ask Kai, was he?

—Yes, or only sometimes —he nodded. The older man was silent for a few seconds as they moved through traffic, but he had to speak again, this time looking at Mason— So, are you going to tell me who this is about?

—Uh, well... It's, it's something I've been trying to start talking to Jack about in therapy, I don't know if he's told you anything about it.

—We don't do that, dumbass —he laughed— He hasn't talked to me about any of it, at all, so I'm listening.

—It's bullshit, honestly, and I’m a bit embarrassed talking abut boy problems, but it’s Kai. Kai Havertz.

—Oh. You think he might be neurodivergent?

—Well, there are a lot of things that make me wonder... stuff about him.

— "Stuff"? So there are updates on this, huh? —he smiled— I'm ready to hear all about it.

—As a psychologist or as a professional busybody?

—As your best mate who you might want to give an update on your life.

—Well, I definitely owe you that, but it's not my fault, you should take me home more often after games —he joked, changing the music in the car to one of the suggestions he'd added to the playlist. At the same time, he took advantage of that space of silent time to plan his next words— I think... Maybe I should tell you all over again from the beginning, now that more things have happened.

—You're killing me with curiosity, Mase.

Mason wasn't an expert at summing things up, and though he'd tried in the previous session with Jack, now that he was under no time pressure whatsoever, he'd been able to tell Ben everything he felt about it, every detail he'd noticed since meeting Kai and how much was really going through his mind when he was with him. From the time when he'd wondered how much he could follow his instincts back when he still thought he'd dreamt it all, to now, when his visits had been a regular occurrence for a couple of weeks now and he felt much less and less surprised to see him show up on his doorstep, though his heartbeat didn't take it quite so quietly.

It took a while and some extra explanation to make Ben understand, but he managed after a while.

—You mean...? Okay, I'm not going to assume anything, so... How do you feel about him? —Ben asked. They were now in the living room of Mount's flat after finally arriving in the building only a couple of minutes ago. On the clock, the hands read eleven o'clock at night, the television was showing some reality show they weren't paying attention to, and in front of them both rested two glasses of juice.

—Uh, well, I mean, I haven't wondered about that at all. Who does?

—Everybody, Mason —he smiled.

—Well, I don't know, I mean... Uh, okay, I think Kai's nice, he's a good person and... I like him a lot, he's someone really nice to be around —he said, shrugging. He didn't notice the insistent look Ben gave him after he said that, until it turned into a sneer— I don't have anything else to say, Ben, I, I think he's really cool.

—Well, if that's what feels right for you to say, that's fine. I think it's safe to say you're friends now, don't you?

—Uh, yeah, I think so. Yeah, we are.

—Well, I'm glad. It's been a while since you've had a new friendship, and especially over the time your psychological process has taken. I think it's a positive development.

—Yes, well, the problem isn't really there. It's clear to me that we're friends, I suppose, but... I just wonder why he pretends that we're not sometimes. I wonder why he acts so different sometimes, in general, because it doesn't make sense in my mind, you know? And that makes me think that maybe his mind and my mind are different, I guess.

—Well, no two people are the same, Mase. So, do you think this could all be a sign that he's a neurodivergent person?

—I don't know, you're the psychologist.

Ben didn't hide a wry chuckle at the comment.

—I'm a psychologist, not a fucking fortune teller, man —he said, pushing aside the ice cubes so he could sip from his glass— If you wanted to get a proper diagnosis, I'd have to diagnose him directly, and that would probably take some time. But, listen, it shouldn't necessarily have to be about neurodivergence, it could just be the way he is, or there could be some cultural reason, although it's also possible that he is indeed neurodivergent. Actually, I think it's important for you to know that, whatever the reason for his behaviour, that's not the issue here, the issue is how you feel about it.

His words, followed by a long silence, echoed in the other's mind. And his gaze could not help but sadden as he remembered that perhaps this was something he should worry about, or at least think about. He had been avoiding it, and he liked the idea of continuing to avoid it better.

—Uh... I mean, I... it's confusing to me. It obviously baffles me at times, but, really, I don't think he has any wrong motive for this. I don't want to misjudge him, anyway. Besides, why would I have to think about it so much? We're just friends, you know?

—Yeah —he smiled— I know, you're friends, that was clear to both of us the entire way. But, you know, Mason, people worry about their relationship with their friends too, it's normal.

—Yeah, well... I know. I know, it's just... It's a bit confusing, that's just because Kai is actually quite a strange person.

—Is that good or bad?

—It's weird. But I like spending time with him.

—Well, if he's here so often, he probably likes to spend time with you too. Relax —he smiled kindly. His mate, sitting across from him, was silent for a few seconds, his hand twirling his phone on the table. Sometimes, that kind of thought reminded him that maybe he made things a lot bigger in his mind—. Hey, but he's not coming to visit you right now, is he?

Mason smiled.

—No, no. I don't think so, he didn't say anything to me about it —he was about to remain silent without another word, but something inside him was urging him to talk more about it. Maybe it was his own mind, and if he was going to think about his teammate, maybe he'd rather do it with someone else— Hey, can I tell you something?

—You know you can, what's going on?

—Sorry to keep going on about it, but... well, last week...

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#mason mount #kai havertz #fanfiction #slash fic #mason mount fanfiction #chelsea fc fanfiction #lgbt fanfic #mlm fanfic #mlm football fanfiction #football rpf #real person fiction #k/m #kai havertz fanfic #kai havertz fanfiction #slow burn fanfic #chelsea fc au

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kepamount · 1 year

Text

let me love you

mason mount x reader - one-night stand, smut and fluff

warnings: discussion and consumption of alcohol, brief mention of drugs, brief mention of infidelity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex, dirty talk, praise and degradation, crying during sex, asphyxiation, overstimulation, i think that's it but pls lmk if i missed anything!

word count: 10.4k+

rating: M

a/n: hey guys! this is the first instalment of a new trilogy from the ariana grande series! the next two parts after this will be titled safety net and into you (after the two songs ofc), and hopefully it won't take me too long to get those out! this hasn't been proofread so pls forgive any mistakes lol. lmk what you think, hope you enjoy! <3

‘You alright, love? Can I-’ ‘I’m not interested,’ I respond shortly, not even looking in his direction as I pass by, following after Steph and Isla as they lead me through the club. We walked through the front entrance less than a minute ago, and I’ve already had four different guys try it on with me. They must really appreciate my skin-tight, tiny black dress, and the face of makeup I spent an hour doing.

The back room is cut off by a velvet rope, manned by four big and burly bouncers. They don’t even ask for our names or IDs, moving the rope out of our way as soon as we approach and letting us through without a word. I feel myself relax as soon as the curtain falls shut behind us, the music that was blasting in the main room becoming a low pulse in the background so I can actually hear myself think.

‘Benny!’ Steph exclaims when she spots her boyfriend across the room, forgetting about us and rushing over to him. I almost want to remind her that she’s here with her friends, but I can’t be annoyed when I see his face light up at the sight of her, his arms outstretched so she can fall into them, instantly dropping into his lap and pressing her lips to his.

‘You can go to your boyfriend as well, if you want,’ I say amusedly to Isla, the girl already making eye contact with Cal, the boy beckoning her over with a cocky head motion. ‘Nah, it’s girls’ night,’ she says, though she sounds completely unconvincing, and I roll my eyes. ‘Just go. I’ll be fine. Gonna get myself a drink, or five,’ I say drily, Isla laughing. ‘I’ll be back in a couple minutes though, okay?’ she promises, and I nod, watching her go and join him.

Most girls who have just gotten out of a relationship would feel shitty at seeing their friends and their boyfriends together, but I couldn’t care less if I tried. In fact, I’m relieved I’m single now. My ex was so boring that I can’t even remember the last time I was in the club, and it feels good to be back. I’m ready to get drunk as hell, snort some blow and then get a box of 20 nuggets on the way home.

‘Three shots of tequila and a glass of rosé, please,’ I ask the bartender, the boy instantly starting on my drinks as I get my phone out of my bag, checking through my notifications. I laugh to myself when I see that I’ve got seven texts and three missed calls from my ex. Someone must have spotted me at the bar we went to before this place and reported back to him already, so now he’s saying he’ll pick me up and take me back to his at the end of the night if I want him to. I’d rather crash at Steph and Ben’s and have to listen to them having sex in the next room.

‘Lime and salt with the tequila shots?’ the bartender asks, and I nod instantly. Tequila isn’t complete without lime and salt, and I think I’ll need whatever help I can get to stomach these shots. It’s been a while since I drank tequila that wasn’t in a cocktail, and I don’t wanna end up vomiting all over the boujee back room of this club.

‘y/n,’ a vaguely familiar voice says from behind me, and I turn to see Mason Mount standing there, looking heart-flutteringly handsome with his flattering all-black outfit, his perfectly trimmed beard, and his short hair long enough to tangle your fingers into. Not to mention his dark eyes that sparkle brighter even than the thin silver chain around his neck, visible where his top two buttons are undone.

‘Mason. Hi. Long time, no see,’ I reply with a smile, stepping forward to hug him. The last time I saw him, he was so slim, all skin and bone without an ounce of muscle on him, but he’s bulked up since, his arms feeling strong and sturdy when he wraps them around me. ‘It’s been too long,’ he agrees as we break apart, which is kind of him to say.

We’re more acquaintances than friends, and even that feels like a bit of a stretch. My best friends date two of his teammates, so we used to see each other fleetingly at parties or on match days, but we barely spoke when we did see each other, just polite greetings and superficial small talk. And even those encounters became a rarity after I got into a relationship with my ex-boyfriend, a player on a different team, and became a social recluse. Not seeing Mason for so long has made me forget how beautiful he is.

‘Should I give you my condolences or my congratulations?’ he asks with a mirthful glint in his eyes, and I can’t help but let out a little laugh. ‘Congratulations, definitely. I’m glad to finally be free,’ I say drily as the bartender puts a wineglass down in front of me. I pick it up, clinking it against Mason’s whiskey tumbler, both of us taking long sips of our drinks.

‘I didn’t realise you drank,’ I say, knowing that Ben’s in the minority as a footballer who loves a good drink from time to time. ‘I don’t, really. We’ve been here an hour and I’m still on my first,’ he says bashfully, making me laugh. ‘You chose the worst possible spirit. If you don’t drink often, you’re supposed to have a vodka and coke or something. A drink where you can’t even taste the alcohol. Whiskey’s awful,’ I say, wrinkling my nose in disgust.

‘You’re an expert on alcohol then?’ he asks amusedly, the bartender putting my three tequila shots down in front of me just as he finished speaking. ‘Don’t tell me they’re all for you,’ he says with mild shock on his face, and I nod proudly. ‘I’m newly single and everyone here knows it. I need all the help I can get to get through the night,’ I say drily, putting down my wineglass as an idea appears in my mind. It's a terrible idea – the entire room will be watching if I do this, and it’ll only enrage my ex when he finds out – but the boy standing next to me is far too enticing for me to decide not to do this.

‘Can I borrow your hand?’ I ask innocently, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. ‘My… hand?’ he echoes, and I nod amusedly. ‘To take my shots,’ I clarify, the boy still looking lost. ‘You’ve never done tequila shots before?’ I ask, Mason shaking his head, looking intrigued. ‘Can I?’ I ask, holding a hand out to him, and he nods, putting down his drink and resting his hand in mine.

‘So first, you’re supposed to coat your tongue in salt, so that it’s easier to drink the tequila. Traditionally, you put salt on this part of someone’s hand and lick it off,’ I say, running a manicured nail down the skin that connects his thumb to the rest of his hand. ‘And you’re supposed to lick the skin before you even put the salt on,’ I add, the boy raising an amused eyebrow. ‘Go ahead then,’ he prompts, victory unfurling in my chest as I pass him a lime to hold in his empty hand.

I lift his hand to my mouth, eyes locked with his as I drag my tongue along his skin, his pupils dilating as he watches me. I shake some salt out onto the damp part of his skin, licking that up too, my tongue stinging with the sharp flavour. I pick up the shot, knocking it back and trying my best not to wince, before taking his other hand into mine, lifting it so he can put the lime in my mouth, my eyes on his as I suck the juice out of it, the tips of his fingers touching my lips.

‘Bit much just for a shot, isn’t it?’ he asks amusedly, though his darkened eyes and slightly heavier breathing betray him, the boy clearly worked up. ‘People do body shots with tequila, which is even worse. Licking salt and sucking limes off different parts of people’s bodies,’ I tell him, the look on his face making it instantly obvious that his mind is imagining what it would be like to do body shots with me. I wonder which part of my body he’d choose.

‘Well, if you’re about to ask me if you can do body shots in the middle of the room, I’m gonna have to decline,’ he jokes, prompting a soft laugh from me. ‘I have more decorum than to do body shots in public,’ I smile, the boy grinning. ‘Only in private then?’ ‘Only in private,’ I confirm, both of us laughing.

‘Here, you do one of these. Not as a body shot. Just a normal one,’ I say, and he looks conflicted. ‘I’ll set it up for you,’ I smile, licking my own hand and pouring out the salt before picking up a lime, resting it in my exposed collarbone. He’s instantly convinced, a dark grin on his face as he lifts my hand to his mouth. He licks up the salt along with my own saliva on my hand, before picking up the shot and knocking it back impossibly fast, trying to get to the last step as quickly as possible. He slides a hand around to the back of my neck, pulling me closer and leaning down to take the lime, his lips brushing my skin so lightly that I wonder if I imagined it.

He sucks the lime dry, dropping the peel in the empty shot glass with a grin before licking some juice from his lip, my eyes zoning in on the action, my stomach tightening with desire. He really is a beautiful man, and I know I’ll be disappointed if I don’t go home with him tonight.

‘Gonna do your last one?’ he asks, not waiting for my answer before he sets it up, putting the lime between his teeth, a challenging glint in his eyes. Never one to back down, I lick up the salt, knock back the shot, and push myself up onto my tip toes, leaning in and taking the lime from his mouth, being careful not to let our lips touch. If he wants a kiss from me, he’s gonna have to be a big boy and ask for one.

The disappointment in his face almost makes me laugh as I swallow down the sour lime juice, putting the peel and the empty glass down on the bar. I’m suddenly aware of lots of eyes on us, whispered conversation filling the room, and I smile. ‘We got people talking.’ ‘Your ex won’t be happy.’ ‘Forgive me if I don’t particularly care,’ I say drily, sipping on my wine, and the boy grins. ‘Let’s give him something to be really angry about then,’ he suggests, and I raise an intrigued eyebrow.

‘Come home with me. I hate going to the club. Your friends have ditched you for their boyfriends. There’s no reason for us to be here,’ he murmurs, and I feel butterflies fill my stomach, so tempted by the thought. ‘I’ve only been here ten minutes, if that. It feels like a waste of an outfit, and my hair and makeup took ages,’ I say forlornly, and he laughs. ‘I’m enjoying your outfit, babe, and your hair and makeup. It’s not a waste,’ he promises, and I feel myself swaying even more at the pet name. ‘I wanted to get drunk tonight,’ I pout, and he rolls his eyes amusedly. ‘I have loads of wine at home. You can take your pick,’ he offers, and I’m convinced.

‘Okay. Let’s say bye to our friends and then go,’ I say before downing my wine, the boy offering me his arm so I can link mine through it. He leads me over to where his friends sit, Isla and Steph part of the group, and they all try to pretend they weren’t just watching and talking about us.

‘We’re gonna go and get something to eat,’ Mason says, not even trying to come up with a decent excuse, and badly-stifled laughter runs around the group. ‘Those limes didn’t fill you up?’ Ben asks, Steph elbowing him in his side amongst more laughter. ‘Okay. Just text us when you get home,’ Isla says, directing the comment to me, and I nod though I know her and Steph will be checking my location anyway.

‘Look after her, Mount. I’ll kill you if something happens to her,’ Steph warns, Mason nodding seriously. ‘He’ll take care of her, don’t worry,’ Cal says, clearly making a dirty joke, and Isla hits him with her bag as they all laugh again. ‘You’re all so annoying,’ I sigh, the boys laughing even harder at that, and I just wave goodbye to Isla and Steph as Mason leads me away from them and towards the exit.

We have to walk single-file in the main room because of how packed it is, so Mason untangles our arms, clasping my hand tightly in his instead, leading the way around the edge of the room and looking back every few seconds to check I’m okay. I can just imagine the tabloids in the morning, not to mention the blurry photos and videos of us on Twitter and TikTok. The football world and the celeb gossip scene is gonna have a field day with this.

I can’t help the shiver that racks through my body the second we step outside, Mason instantly shrugging off his jacket and draping it over my shoulders. I don’t even have a chance to protest because the valet approaches us, Mason grabbing his wallet from his pocket, handing the valet his ticket.

‘You drove?’ I ask when the valet goes to get his car, and he nods. ‘So I could make a quick escape if I wanted to. I’ve only had three sips of whiskey.’ ‘And a tequila shot,’ I add, the boy grinning. ‘And a tequila shot,’ he repeats, my phone making several text notification noises a moment later. I get my phone out of my bag, unable to hold back a laugh at seeing that it’s Steph and Isla blowing up the group chat, clearly not as cool, calm and collected about the whole thing as they pretended to be before.

‘The girls?’ he asks amusedly, and I nod with a little sigh. ‘They’re freaking out. Sending texts in all caps to the groupchat,’ I say, the boy laughing. ‘I’m surprised they didn’t say anything when we were still inside.’ ‘Girl code. You have to play it cool. Can’t let the guy get a big head from thinking that it’s a big deal that your friend’s going home with him,’ I tell him, his grin growing. ‘Is it a big deal?’ ‘Kind of, I guess. I’ve been in a relationship for a couple years, and I wasn’t one for… going home with guys even before that,’ I tell him, and he tilts his head thoughtfully.

‘What about after your relationship? You’ve been broken up for a while now, haven’t you?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Yeah. Two weeks since we announced it, but I dumped him about a month ago.’ ‘And you haven’t… had a rebound in that month?’ he asks, and I shake my head shyly, the boy looking satisfied at that. ‘I’m honoured.’ ‘You should be,’ I reply, Mason laughing.

The valet pulls up in front of us in Mason’s Lamborghini, jumping out and handing Mason the keys, the boy thanking him graciously which earns him brownie points. Seems basic, but when your ex was rude and arrogant, you appreciate a guy with manners. He opens the passenger side door for me, grinning at my thanks as I climb in, the boy shutting the door behind me before walking around to the driver’s side.

‘Connect your phone,’ he prompts, and I open my Settings app, clicking on the Bluetooth section and scrolling past all my saved devices to connect to his car. ‘Wow. How many cars have you connected to?’ he asks, and I let out a slightly embarrassed laugh. ‘A fair few. I’m a certified passenger princess,’ I claim, flipping my hair over my shoulder, and he just laughs, pulling away from the curb.

‘What music do you like?’ I ask, scrolling through my playlists. ‘I mainly listen to American rap, but I don’t know if that’s the vibe,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What’s the vibe, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy failing to hold back his smile. ‘Heartbreak music. You just got out of a two-year-long relationship,’ he reminds me, and I scoff. ‘Yeah, right. I was more heartbroken when I was still in the relationship than I am now,’ I laugh, Mason silent for a few seconds.

‘I know you’re probably sick of having this conversation but… what happened with him?’ he asks, and I let out a little sigh, clicking on my ‘gimme the aux’ playlist, full of songs that I play in other people’s cars to prove I’ve got good music taste. Playboi Carti comes on, Mason looking impressed, and I try not to laugh at how successful this playlist is at its purpose.

‘Our relationship got really boring towards the end. He stopped taking me on dates, buying me gifts, even complimenting me. We just spent all our time at home, watching boxsets and having sex. He became really complacent, and I realised that I deserve to be treated like a princess in a relationship, and not taken for granted or made to feel unloved the way I did. I communicated to him that I was unhappy in our relationship, and he turned around and said that he was too and that’s why he slept with the club’s social media girl,’ I say flatly, Mason’s mouth falling open in shock.

‘That is not what I was expecting you to say. Wow. I’m so sorry, y/n,’ he says, and I wave it off. ‘It’s fine, don’t worry. It didn’t really hurt me, because I just wasn’t in love with him anymore towards the end. I felt disrespected and angry, but not upset,’ I say, Mason nodding in understanding as he drives, one hand resting on the wheel whilst the other moves the gearstick every now and then. He’s a sexy driver, completely relaxed behind the wheel, his eyes flitting to the mirrors from time to time.

‘Was he at least good in bed?’ he asks, and I laugh, surprised at the question. ‘He was okay. Not the best, not the worst,’ I say fairly. ‘Same as how he is on the pitch then,’ Mason mutters, surprising another laugh out of me. ‘At least he’s consistent,’ I say, Mason’s response interrupted by my phone suddenly ringing through his car speakers, a familiar phone number appearing on the screen.

‘Spam call?’ he asks, and I laugh. ‘Sort of. It’s him. My ex,’ I say as I reject the call, Mason’s eyes widening in amusement. ‘No way. You didn’t even change his contact name to ‘dead to me’ or something. Just straight deleted his contact?’ he asks, and I nod with a laugh. ‘For him to be dead to me, I’d have to actually care about him, and I genuinely don’t,’ I say, my phone ringing with another call from him.

‘Please let me answer and speak to him,’ Mason says, and I shake my head instantly. ‘No way. He’ll literally go insane,’ I say, Mason grinning. ‘All the more reason.’ ‘No way. Don’t your teams play against each other soon? He’ll probably go out of his way to injure you if you piss him off,’ I say, Mason scoffing. ‘Yeah, right. I could take him.’ ‘Okay, skinny white boy. It’s not worth the risk,’ I say, Mason looking at me with big, persuasive eyes. ‘I won’t even speak. I just wanna hear what he says to you,’ he says as the ringing stops, disappointment on his face.

‘He’ll phone again. He calls three times and then gives up,’ I say, Mason looking hopeful. ‘And you’re gonna answer this time?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Yeah, okay. If it’ll make you that happy,’ I say, Mason grinning widely. He waits, almost excited for the phone to ring, unable to hold back a laugh when it rings again. ‘Go on, then,’ he prompts, and I press the green button, waiting for it to connect.

‘y/n. Where are you?’ his voice blares out from the speakers, both of us wincing. ‘Fucking hell. Are you shouting directly into your phone speaker? Why was that so loud?’ I complain, my ex letting out an irritated noise. ‘Where are you?’ ‘In a car.’ ‘Whose car?’ ‘Mason Mount’s car,’ I say, Mason grinning at the momentary stunned silence.

‘I didn’t think it was true.’ ‘Who told you?’ ‘Twitter. It’s already everywhere,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, yeah. It’s true.’ ‘Why are you in his car?’ ‘What do you mean? We’re driving somewhere. Why else would I be in his car?’ I say irritably, Mason stifling laughter. ‘Where are you driving?’ ‘It’s actually none of your business, at all,’ I remind him, a sigh sounding through the car speakers.

‘I know, but… it’s just killing me to not know what’s going on with you. All the rumours and shit, I just hate it. First, you’ve moved on with Central Cee, and then, you’re getting a marriage proposal from an Indian prince, and now, you’re dating another Prem footballer? It’s driving me insane,’ he says, and I roll my eyes again.

‘You should’ve thought about that before cheating on me and taking me for granted. We’re done now, so you don’t get to ask questions about my life and expect answers.’ ‘Fine, okay. Just at least tell me if you’ve got a new boyfriend now.’ ‘I don’t. I’m single.’ ‘So it’s just casual sex then?’ ‘She’s hanging up now,’ Mason says, a brief stunned silence following his words.

‘Who the fuck do you th-’ ‘Bye!’ I shout, hanging up on him, and Mason and I burst into laughter. ‘Right, I’d better block his number because he’s gonna spam call me now,’ I say, having to reject a call so I can block him. ‘He’s insane.’ ‘Tell me about it,’ I mutter, feeling relieved when I finally block his number.

‘What’s this about Central Cee and an Indian prince then?’ he asks, trying his best to seem relaxed but clearly curious, and I can’t help but laugh. ‘Cench and I aren’t dating. We were in the studio together for my next album, and we wanted WingStop, but delivery wasn’t available, so we drove to the nearest one and collected our order instead. People saw me in his car and the rumours started. But the Indian prince stuff is actually true. A prince spoke at some international relations meeting and mentioned wanting me as a wife in his speech,’ I say offhandedly, Mason’s eyes wide.

‘Wow. Have you responded?’ ‘No. How do you publicly reject a marriage proposal from a prince without putting yourself in serious danger?’ I say, Mason laughing. ‘What are you gonna do though? Just ignore it?’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m gonna do. Pretend it never happened and pray I don’t run into him until both of us are married so he can’t bring it up,’ I say drily, the boy shaking his head amusedly.

‘So you wanna get married one day?’ ‘At some point, yeah, I think so. Not for a long time, though. I wasted a couple years of my youth being in a shitty relationship, so I wanna enjoy myself for a while now. I don’t think I’ll even start dating again ‘til I’m close to my 30s. I’m more than happy to be single for a while now,’ I say, Mason nodding.

‘Fair enough. Dating again when you’re… 27, 28? Then marriage a few years later. Any kids?’ he asks, and I nod instantly. ‘Definitely. I want a few. At least four. Two boys, two girls,’ I say dreamily, Mason laughing. ‘You can’t choose, y/n.’ ‘I can if I adopt.’ ‘You want to adopt?’ he asks surprisedly, and I shrug. ‘Maybe. It’s always an option. I’m not sure if I have the pain threshold to go through pregnancy, and the idea of giving kids who would ordinarily struggle the chance for a better life and better opportunities seems really appealing to me. Why bring more children into the world when I can help the ones that are already here?’ I say, Mason smiling softly.

‘That’s really sweet. I think you’d make an amazing mother. Biological or adoptive,’ he says kindly, my heart warming. ‘Thanks, Mase. I’m sure you’ll be an amazing parent too,’ I say, the boy grinning. ‘Our kids will be lucky,’ he says, making me choke on my own gasp. ‘Our kids? Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you, Mount?’ I ask amusedly, the boy just looking content with his own joke. ‘Never say never, y/n. You don’t know what relationship we might have in a few years’ time,’ he says in a mystical tone, and I just roll my eyes. ‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ I mutter, Mason just laughing.

We fall into a comfortable silence, Mason tapping his fingers on the wheel in time to the Lil Baby song that’s playing. I shift in my seat, my dress riding up to a point where it’s barely even covering my crotch, and I pull it down, able to feel Mason’s eyes on me as I do so. I can also feel him smirk to himself, obviously amused at how I’m trying to cover up while we’re literally on our way back to his house.

‘Cold?’ he asks, not even waiting for my answer before he turns up the heat. ‘Your jacket’s keeping me warm,’ I say, pulling it closer around me. It’s still holding the heat from his body when he was wearing it, and it holds his scent as well, something fresh and expensive.

‘You look good in it,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. It makes the outfit, I think,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘I did think it was missing something, to be fair,’ I joke, his smile alerting me to the fact that he’s about to make a joke that he’s already very proud of. ‘It was missing the rest of its material,’ he says, and I gasp, hitting his shoulder lightly as he bites his lip to hold back laughter. To be fair, the dress is pretty tiny. The neckline barely covers my nipples and the hem barely covers my ass, not to mention the fact that it’s practically a second skin and it has the thinnest little straps that just about manage to hold it up.

‘Don’t shame me.’ ‘I’m not shaming you! It’s hypocritical to shame something you like, isn’t it?’ he asks with a grin. ‘You like it?’ ‘Yeah, I do. I love your skimpy little dress,’ he laughs, making me roll my eyes. ‘I had to wear something to give me the confidence to walk into a club for the first time in over two years.’ ‘You don’t have to explain yourself. Honestly, I’m just hoping you’re wearing outfits like this every time I see you.’ ‘I’ll wear it to your next match,’ I smile, and he falls into a thoughtful silent for a moment. ‘Actually… maybe not then. I’d end up shooting into our own goal if I spot you in the stands wearing a dress like this,’ he says drily, the car slowing down as he pulls into a familiar residential area.

‘You live around here?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘About thirty seconds down this road.’ ‘I’m literally five minutes away from here. I’m always at the Co-op at the top of the road,’ I say, the boy looking surprised. ‘No way. I’m always there as well. How have we never run into each other?’ ‘I’m glad we haven’t. I always look an absolute mess when I go, and I’m usually buying alcohol,’ I admit, Mason laughing. ‘Should I be concerned about your alcoholism?’ he asks, and I shake my head with a laugh. ‘It’s not that bad, I promise. I barely had a drop when I was with my ex.’ ‘Oh. In that case, drink as much as you want. I won’t even try to stop you,’ he grins, clearly trying to communicate that he’d be better for me thank my ex, and I just roll my eyes amusedly.

He pulls up to his house a few moments later, reversing onto the drive with his head turned, hand on the back of my seat. It takes every ounce of my self-control to not watch him, knowing I’ll probably throw myself at him the second I see him doing the sexy reversing thing. He turns off the engine, climbing out of the car and rushing around to help me out, grinning like he’s proud of himself for being so gentlemanly. He motions for me to lead the way up to the front door, following me up the drive and unlocking the door using the security system keypad set into the brick beside it.

I step into the front hall, slipping off my uncomfortable heels, my feet relieved at being flat on the cold floor. He flicks a switch beside the door as he shuts it behind us, flooding the room with light, and I find myself impressed at how nicely decorated it is. It’s also spotless enough that I can tell it was cleaned today, and I find myself unusually jealous at the thought of some girl cleaning his house. I try to comfort myself with the possibility that his cleaning staff are male, though the thought’s tinged with doubt.

‘Let me get you a drink before you start getting withdrawal symptoms,’ he jokes, stepping around me and leading me to the kitchen. It’s similar to my own, with a big island in the middle of the room, and I admire the furnishings, impressed at his taste in décor. ‘Your house is beautiful,’ I say quietly, not wanting to disrupt the complete silence filling the room. ‘Thanks. My mum helped me choose everything,’ he admits, making me laugh. ‘Well, your mum’s got good taste,’ I say, the boy smiling at hearing a compliment for his mum.

‘Which wine do you want?’ he asks, opening the wine fridge. ‘I’m happy with whatever,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You must have a favourite. Just come and choose,’ he says amusedly, busying himself with getting a wineglass and ice out for me as I look through the many unopened bottles in the fridge. I spot a bottle of Asti, instantly won over, and I get it out carefully, shutting the fridge and bringing the bottle to the island where he’s standing.

‘Why do you have so much wine if you don’t drink it?’ I ask, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes as he watches me pour out a half glass, dropping in two ice cubes with the little silver tongs he hands me. ‘So I’ve got something to give the girls I bring home after a night out,’ he grins, and I pretend to hit him with the tongs, the boy ducking with a laugh.

‘I’m joking, I’m joking! The wine fridge was already there when I bought the house, and Mum said I might as well just fill it up so it doesn’t look weird, and so I’ve got options for people to choose from when I host,’ he explains, and I nod in understanding, putting the wine bottle back in the fridge as he puts the ice away.

‘So do you do that on a regular basis? Bring girls home after a night out?’ I ask casually, Mason looking amused at my question. ‘Not regularly. A couple times. But I’ve never let them choose their favourite wine from my wine fridge,’ he adds, making me laugh. ‘I guess I’m special then.’ ‘So special, babe.’ ‘I’m honoured,’ I say drily, taking a sip from my glass as he laughs.

‘Can I use your toilet?’ I ask, the boy nodding. ‘It’s just down that way. Door on the left,’ he says, and I walk down the corridor he points at, opening one of the doors. ‘That’s your right, y/n, not your left,’ he laughs as I stop myself from stepping into a store cupboard. ‘Oh. I struggle remembering my left and right.’ ‘Clearly,’ he says amusedly, my eyes landing on something in his cupboard.

‘Wow, this is quite a board game collection,’ I say, Mason coming to stand behind me as I admire the three shelves lined with board game boxes. ‘I know it’s not why you came back to mine but… do you wanna play one?’ he says excitedly, like a big kid. ‘Excuse you, Mason Mount, but playing a board game is exactly the reason I came back to yours,’ I lie, pretending to be outraged by his insinuation, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Yeah, right. The only game you came here to play is an adult version of Twister,’ he grins, wiggling his eyebrows, and I can’t help but burst into laughter at the terrible joke, Mason unable to hold back his own.

‘What game shall we play then?’ I ask, and he looks surprised. ‘Wait, you really want to?’ ‘Don’t tell me you’re scared of losing to me, Mount,’ I taunt, his competitive streak taking over when he raises a patronising eyebrow. ‘Can’t be scared of something that has a less-than-1% chance of happening,’ he replies childishly, and I scoff. ‘Put your money where your mouth is then. Let’s play,’ I challenge, and he holds out a hand for me to shake. ‘You’re on.’

And five minutes later, here we are. Two grown adults on the carpeted floor of his living room on a Saturday night in our clubbing clothes, two Guess Who? boards set up between us and my wineglass on the coffee table beside us, music playing from his sound system in the background. Mason’s lying on his front, legs outstretched, while I’m sitting with my legs bent to the side, keeping my thighs clamped shut.

‘Okay, shall I start?’ ‘Wait,’ he says suddenly, that mischievous glint in his eyes again, ‘let’s… raise the stakes a bit.’ ‘Don’t tell me you wanna put money on Guess Who?, because that is a low I’m not ready to go to,’ I say with narrowed eyes, the boy laughing. ‘No, not money. What about… clothes?’ he suggests, and I tilt my head in confusion. ‘The loser buys the winner a new wardrobe?’ ‘No, y/n. You lose a round, you lose an item of clothing,’ he grins, and my eyes widen in surprise.

‘Don’t chicken out on me now, babe,’ he taunts, and I roll my eyes, my own competitive streak appearing. ‘I’m no chicken, but it’s unfair on me. You’re wearing way more than I am,’ I pout, and he’s silent for a moment, obviously working it out. ‘No, we’ve got the same. I’ve got socks, boxers, trousers and shirt. You’ve got dress, bra, pants and my jacket,’ he lists off, and I bite my lip, feeling awkward about having to tell him he’s overestimating what I’ve got on. ‘I’m not wearing a bra. Or pants,’ I say quietly, his mouth falling open for a moment.

‘Nothing under your dress?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Right. I guess that’s not as simple then,’ he says, clearly trying not to laugh, and I don’t reply for a moment, debating whether or not I’m bold enough for this. And then I decide, fuck it. ‘It’s still simple in my eyes. I told you, Mount. I’m not a chicken,’ I murmur, his eyes darkening as he grins. ‘You’re sure?’ 100%.’ ‘Let’s do it, then,’ he says, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

We start the most competitive game of Guess Who? ever, both of us aggressively tapping down the tiles on our boards. I win the first round, downing half of my wine in celebration as he pulls his socks off. He throws one at me, my scream as I bat it away making him burst into laughter. He wins the next round, and I reluctantly take off his jacket, resting it on the sofa as he gives me a greasy grin, bursting into laughter again when I lean over to swat at him.

‘You’d better pray you don’t lose the next round,’ he says, sitting up with his shoulders in a competitive stance, and I smile confidently. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to,’ I promise, and I’m right. I win the next round, managing to guess correctly when I still have six people left to guess from, and his mouth falls open at how lucky I am.

‘What shall I take off then?’ ‘You’re letting me choose?’ I ask, the boy nodding, lips quirked up in amusement. ‘Shirt. Obviously,’ I say, the boy laughing as his hands lift to undo the buttons on his shirt. Our eyes are locked together as he shrugs his shirt off, but once he’s shirtless, I can’t resist the temptation to let my gaze slide over his bare torso, muscles and tan skin and tattoos galore. Desire settles low in my stomach as he watches me admire him, a darkly satisfied look on his face. His light-hearted and jokey side is slowly melting away, leaving a very intimidating side in its wake.

‘When you’re finished… I’m ready to beat you again,’ he says in a low tone laced with mirth, and I roll my eyes. ‘Don’t bet on it, babe. I’m winning this round as well,’ I say with conviction, and I’m right again. It comes down to the wire this time, pretty much anyone’s game, but I manage to scrape the win at the last second, the boy looking outraged that he didn’t.

He stands up as I sip victoriously on the last of my wine, unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers before pushing them down his strong legs and kicking them aside. I feel my pulse quickening as I look up at him standing there in nothing but his Calvins, a noticeable tent in them already. He grins at me as he sits back down, and I avoid his amused gaze, resetting my Guess Who? board.

‘Last round,’ he reminds me, and I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, knowing what’s coming right after this round. He doesn’t seem to be trying very hard to win, but my nervousness distract me from concentrating, and by the time he makes his guess, I’ve still got half my board up. I can’t even muster up the disappointment at losing, too on edge about the fact that I’m about to strip off my dress to leave myself naked in Mason Mount’s living room.

‘Why do you look like you’re about to vomit?’ he asks amusedly, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his elbows. ‘Too much to drink,’ I say weakly, the boy sighing. ‘y/n, if you’ve changed your mind, you can say so. Don’t worry ab-’ ‘No, it’s not that. I’m just… I haven’t slept with anyone other than my ex in the last three years. And almost every time we slept together, it was boring and never felt special. It was just a really dull part of our routine. This is different. I feel nervous,’ I admit, Mason chuckling softly.

‘Come here,’ he says softly as he pushes the Guess Who? boards aside, speaking in a tone that no-one would ever be able to say no to, and I crawl across the carpet towards him. When I reach him, he slides an arm around my waist, effortlessly lifting me to straddle him, his bulge pressing directly onto my core.

‘There’s nothing to be nervous about, y/n. We’ll take this as slowly as you want to, and we don’t have to do it at all if you decide you don’t want to. There’s only one thing I want you to feel tonight, and that isn’t anxiety,’ he murmurs, one of his hands resting on my back as he lifts the other hand to brush a lock of hair back from my face, butterflies exploding in my stomach.

‘We can play another game if you want? Or I can get you another glass of wine before you start getting withdrawal shakes?’ he jokes lightly, and I can’t hold back my giggle, the boy smiling at the sound. ‘I’m okay,’ I say, lifting my hands to rest on his bare chest, his skin hot against my palms. ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I don’t want games, or wine. All I want is you,’ I say shyly, his grin growing. ‘That works out well then.’ ‘Yeah?’ ‘Yeah. I’m already yours, babe,’ he murmurs, sliding his hand up to the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

My eyes slide shut as he kisses me, his lips pushing mine apart and his tongue sliding into my mouth. The kiss is sweet wine and bitter tequila, my head going light at the taste of him on my mouth while his hands roam up and down my sides. I slide my hands up his chest to the back of his neck, using my grip on him to press my torso against his, accidently rocking forward against his bulge. The friction makes me whimper into his mouth, and he groans at the noise, gripping my waist to press me down again, stealing the breath from each other’s mouths as though the only air that works for either of us comes from each other’s lungs.

The kiss escalates quickly, my hands gripping onto his hair as his fingers press into my waist tightly enough to leave bruises, controlling my movements so I’m grinding down onto him, both of us moaning into each other’s mouths. His skin is so hot against mine, and I realise I want to touch every inch of it, my hands sliding down from his hair to explore the curves and ridges of his strong body.

‘Can I?’ he asks against my lips as his hands slip down to my thighs, tips of his fingers playing with the hem of my dress. I hum into the kiss as response, his hands instantly disappearing under my dress and sliding over my bare skin, pulling the material up with them. We break apart briefly so he can pull it over my head, throwing it over his shoulder as he reconnects our lips, my boobs smushed against his chest. His hands explore my completely naked body as I continue grinding down onto him, unclothed core dripping arousal all over his underwear.

‘Fuck, you’re so wet. I need to…’ he breathes into my mouth, lying back and bringing my body down on top of his before rolling us over, the soft carpet against my skin as he hovers over me. ‘Can I touch you?’ ‘Please,’ I whisper, his hand instantly moving down to push my legs apart, two fingers lightly swiping across my folds to collect up my arousal. He lifts his hand to his mouth, tasting me on his skin, and he lets out an appreciative noise.

‘You taste so good, babe,’ he praises, slipping the two fingers between my lips, and I suck on them gently, able to taste myself. He takes his hand from my mouth, replacing it with his own mouth and capturing my lips in a kiss, absorbing the moan I let out when he pushes those two fingers into me. He remains still for a few moments to let me adjust, distracting me from the stretch with a messy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing.

He breaks away from me when he starts moving his fingers, slowing sliding them in and out of me, my walls fluttering around them as I bite down on my lip to hold back any noises. His eyes are trained on my face, watching intently for my reactions as he presses his thumb down on my clit, my back arching up from the floor as my breath catches in my throat.

He curls his fingers inside me, a pathetic whimper escaping my lips, and he fails at trying to hold back his satisfaction at the sound. ‘I know, baby, I know,’ he murmurs, half-soothingly and half-patronisingly, his tone making me gush around his fingers. He’s trying his best to take it slow but he can’t resist increasing his pace, rocking his hand against me so his palm rubs my clit whilst his fingers move inside me, little moans falling from my lips every few seconds.

‘That’s it, babe, good girl. Let me hear how good it feels,’ he prompts with a small grin, replacing his palm with his thumb and rubbing hard and slow circles on my clit, forcing a desperate whimper out of me. I look up at him, stomach turning when I realise he’s still watching me, eyes studying my face as his fingers work their magic, and I can barely maintain his eye contact, hearing him chuckle when my back arches up again, a gentle moan escaping my lips.

‘Fuck, you sound so pretty,’ he mutters, fingers curling inside me again, and I can’t help but clamp my thighs together, overwhelmed at the sensation. ‘Want me to stop?’ he asks, hand stopping its movements, and I shake my head desperately, needing him to stop but needing him to carry on even more. He grins amusedly as he pulls one of my legs up so it bends at the knee between our bodies, allowing his fingers to go even deeper inside me. ‘Fuck, Mason,’ I breathe out when his fingers brush against that spot inside me, and he curses under his breath at hearing his name on my lips.

I clutch at the carpet as his fingers continue to thrust into me at a ever-quickening pace, an obscene squelching filling the room. ‘God, you’re so wet. Soaking my carpet, dirty girl,’ he chuckles, and I let out whine after whimper as he starts to bring me to the edge. ‘You’re doing all the work now, y/n. Feels good, baby?’ he asks softly, tone laced with cockiness, and I only realise after he says it that I’m grinding down onto his hand, each movement sending gentle waves of pleasure through me.

My body squirms beneath his, walls clenching around him, and he knows that I’m close, his pace quickening as he whispers honeyed filth into my ear. ‘Close, babe?’ he asks, and all I can do is nod, letting out a loud moan. ‘Fuck, bet my neighbours are gonna come knocking soon with a noise complaint. But how could anyone complain about your pretty noises, babe?’ he grins, the thought of being heard only prompting a fresh wave of arousal that soaks his skin.

‘Fuck, Mason, I’m gonna…’ I trail off, feeling myself get closer with every brush of his thumb at my clit and every curl of his fingers inside me. ‘Gonna cum, babe? You wanna cum on my fingers?’ he whispers against my ear, and I just let out a moan in response, teetering at the edge. I’m so close, and then he takes his fingers out of me, my orgasm disappearing within seconds, and I whine, eyes filling with tears of frustration and desperation.

‘Don’t complain, babe. I’m not done,’ he murmurs soothingly as he moves down my body, pressing kisses my skin. He briefly sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, making me sigh in pleasure, before continuing down my body, pushing my legs apart so he can settle between them.

He doesn’t waste any time, immediately burying his head between my inner thighs and sucking my clit into his mouth. I let out a moan of his name, fingers tangling into his hair as he alternates between flicking his tongue over my clit and slurping at my folds noisily like a man starved. It doesn’t take long for my orgasm to build up again, and I fall over the edge when he pushes his tongue inside me, his nose pressing against my clit.

My vision goes blurry as I moan out loudly, fingers gripping onto his soft locks for any form of stability as the pleasure crashes through my body in strong waves, my limbs tense and tight. As my orgasm subsides, my body goes slack beneath him, and he takes it upon himself to continue eating me out. I whine at the overstimulation, body squirming as he sucks and flicks my clit whilst thrusting one finger into me.

‘Mase, I can’t. It’s too much,’ I whimper between moans, tears steadily running down my face, and when he finally gives me reprieve, I let out a long sigh of relief, a dark grin on his face as he sits up on his knees. ‘You’re not done already, are you, babe? Haven’t even let me fuck you yet,’ he murmurs, slipping a hand into his Calvins and touching himself, my core flooding with arousal at the sight.

I sit up, pulling his underwear down just enough to free his cock, mouth-watering at the sight of it. I can’t resist from leaning down and sucking the head between my lips, his salty pre-cum coating my tongue. ‘As much as I’d love to feel your mouth right now, babe, I’d love to be inside you even more. Gonna let me fuck you?’ he asks as I sit up, and I nod shyly, his grin growing.

‘Let me grab a condom from ups-’ ‘No, don’t. I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,’ I say, his eyes darkening. ‘Are you sure?’ ‘Are you clean?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Then, yeah, I’m sure. I wanna feel you raw,’ I breathe out, his pupils blown out completely with lust. ‘Fuck. Yeah. Okay, then. How d’you want it?’ he asks, and I think it over for a moment. Missionary’s always been my favourite – I’m a simple girl – but for a one-night stand with a friend of a friend, it feels a bit too intimate. The last thing I need is to stare into his pretty eyes while he fucks me. I’ll end up falling in love.

‘From behind,’ I murmur quietly, a flicker of disappointment in his eyes before he grins, making me question if I’m imagining it. ‘Get on your hands and knees for me, babe,’ he prompts, and I do as he says, anticipating his touch on me. And then he smacks my ass harshly, making me let out a pained yelp, before he rubs the area soothingly.

‘This is fucking perfect,’ he mutters, groping my ass cheeks like a horny teenage boy, and I push back into him, needing him to fuck me. ‘Okay, okay, I get the hint,’ he laughs, his hands disappearing from my ass a moment later. I let out a moan the second I feel him running the head of his cock down my folds, another escaping my lips when he begins pushing into me.

‘Good girl. That’s a good girl,’ he says, voice soft and soothing as he slowly sinks into me, the slightly painful stretch tearing a sob from my throat, and he rubs my back soothingly as he bottoms out. ‘Feels so big,’ I whimper, and he chuckles lightly, his ego obviously inflated. ‘You’re taking it so well, babe,’ he praises as he stays still inside me, allowing me to adjust. ‘Please, Mason, move,’ I plead, and his hands stop rubbing, gripping my waist instead. ‘Sure?’ he asks, though I can feel that he’s practically itching to fuck me. ‘Yes, need you,’ I breathe out, and he doesn’t hesitate any longer.

He pulls out before slamming back in, winding me. He’s ruthless, pounding into me so hard that his balls slap against my thighs, hands digging into my waist, both our skin damp with sweat. My head falls forward, and he leans over to grab my hair in one hand, tugging it to hold my head up, the pull only slightly painful. He fucks into me, hard, with no restraint, my head bent back at an uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room. ‘Does my pretty baby like being fucked like this?’ he asks, the pet name making me gush, and my moans seem to be answer enough for him, a strained chuckle falling from his lips.

He props one foot up on the floor, allowing him to hammer into me at a bruising pace, cock filling me up completely, having me completely blissed out. ‘You take it so well, babe. So well. You take it like such a good little slut,’ he breathes out between grunts, and it’s heart-stopping, toe-curling, tear-inducing, the way he’s fucking me, so good I can’t think of anything but him, and how fucking amazing this feels.

My arms give way before I can realise how much they’re aching, and I fall face first into the carpet. ‘Shit, baby, I’m sorry. Are you tired?’ he asks gently, his cock stilling inside me, and I try to lift myself back up, desperate to feel him again. He slips an arm around my stomach and, at first, I think he’s just trying to help me back into position but, instead, he pulls me all the way up so my back is pressed to his front, my body weight resting partially on my knees but mainly on him.

He continues fucking into me in this new position, but at an agonisingly slow pace. He rocks into me, cock dragging against my walls leisurely, and I can feel it even more like this, can feel every inch filling me up and stretching me out. I let out a loud moan of his name and he slips two fingers into my mouth to shut me up.

‘You’re so loud, babe. Gonna have the neighbours knocking on the door, but I don’t wanna rush. Wanna take my time with you. Isn’t that what you want, baby? Want me to fuck you nice and slow?’ he murmurs against my ear, and I let out a garbled moan around his fingers, my wetness dripping down my own thighs.

He takes the sound as a yes, grinning against my neck as he fucks me deep, and I whimper and whine around his fingers as he lets out sinfully soft grunts and groans against my skin. He brings a hand to rest at the base of my neck, fingers still in my mouth. ‘Feels good?’ he asks, and I just about manage to nod as my eyes roll back, a little laugh falling from his lips.

His hand around my neck tightens, cutting off my airways slightly, and I let out an unintelligible string of curses around his fingers, my breathing quickly becoming laboured. I clench around him sporadically, quickly feeling my high approaching, and he can feel it too, keeping his torturous pace with a smirk pressed to the side of my throat.

He releases my neck after a few moments and I gasp for air, my inhale cut off when he puts a hand on my forehead and pulls my head back far enough for us to make eye contact, his face just as handsome upside down. His eyes are dark, skin flushed, and hair pasted down to his forehead with sweat.

‘Fuck, you’re so pretty, babe. This body is so perfect. So beautiful, and so good for me, with your pretty noises. My pretty baby,’ he murmurs, my body weakening and my heart skipping beats at all the praise. I’m so close, but I just need more – his pace is mind-blowing, and the dirty talk has butterflies going wild in my stomach, but it’s not enough to push me over the edge.

‘Faster, Mase,’ I mumble around his fingers, and he shakes his head amusedly. ‘You’re crying, babe. You can’t even handle this, and you want it faster?’ he chuckles before complying, pounding into me hard enough that the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the room, filling my ears along with the sounds escaping my lips. He slips his fingers out of my mouth, reaching down to rub at my clit in circles fast enough to match his thrusts, and I’m hurtling towards my orgasm.

‘Close, babe? Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, it’s gonna feel so good,’ he breathes against my ear, one hand groping my boobs whilst the other keeps a steady pace at my clit, and the mixture of all the different sensations whilst he whispers filth in my ear makes me hit my high, my mouth falling open in a silent scream before letting out a moan of his name.

My walls clamp down around him so tightly that he can’t even move, so he keeps rubbing my clit to get me through my orgasm, murmuring praise and encouragement in my ear before pressing soft kisses to my skin. When I start coming down from my high and my walls loosen around him, he pushes me down so I’m resting on my elbows, his hands gripping onto my waist. He pounds into me, chasing his own orgasm, and it washes over him within a few seconds, the sexiest moan of my name falling from his lips as he fills me up with his cum.

For a long few seconds, the quiet music and our heavy breathing are the only noises in the room, and I take a while to try and compose myself with my head resting on the carpet. ‘You okay, babe?’ Mason asks breathlessly as he pulls out, leaving me feeling empty, and I turn over to look up at him, nodding with a small smile. He grins at me, pushing my legs apart to watch his cum drip out of me, eyes trained on my face as he collects it up with two fingers and pushes It back into me. I try to say his name reprimandingly, but it comes out as a moan, and he chuckles as I push his hand away.

‘Come on. Let’s… get you cleaned up,’ he says, easily lifting me up into his arms and carrying me out of the room bridal-style. He takes me up the stairs and into one of the bedrooms, putting me down gently on the bed. He puts on a lamp and disappears into what probably is an en suite bathroom, coming back with a damp towel a few seconds later.

‘Your house… really is lovely,’ I say through a yawn as he cleans me up with the towel, wiping up all the sweat on my skin, the saliva around my mouth and the cum between my legs. ‘After what just happened, you’re thinking about my décor?’ he laughs, and I roll my eyes. ‘I mean, to be fair, my head was in your carpet, and it was very soft, so…’ I say, trying to keep a straight face but unable to hold back my giggle when he bursts out laughing.

‘Do you want some clothes? A t-shirt or a hoodie? And you can borrow some of my boxers if you want underwear,’ he offers, and I laugh. ‘I’ll sleep like this. If you don’t mind,’ I add afterwards, though the look on his face clearly shows that he really doesn’t mind at all. ‘Yeah, that’s fine,’ he grins, getting up from the bed and going into the bathroom again. I stare at the ceiling, already getting flashbacks about what just happened, feeling myself getting wet again. I’m praying he doesn’t have training early tomorrow because I need him again in the morning.

I listen to what he’s doing, hearing the tap running and then shutting off a little while later before he comes back into the room. I listen to him leave, his footsteps going down the stairs, light switches being flicked and the music being turned off before his footsteps come back up and he steps into the room. I look over, the boy grinning at me. He’s wearing new underwear and looking fresher, like he’s splashed water on his face and combed his hair. He climbs into the bed beside me, sitting with his head resting against the headboard, back on the pillow. I move to lie in the circle of his arm, my head on his chest, and I can hear his heart beating through his skin.

‘So… gonna let me take you on a date?’ he asks suddenly, and I don’t react for a few seconds. ‘Um… no way.’ ‘No?’ he asks, sounding surprised, and I sigh. ‘Nope. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship anytime soon,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘A date doesn’t equal a relationship, y/n,’ he says, and I lift my head to look up at him, arms resting across his chest.

‘Yeah, but one date with me is all it would take for you to fall in love,’ I say as though it’s obvious, and he nods amusedly. ‘And that’s a bad thing?’ ‘Yes. I don’t have the time, patience or energy to deal with someone being in love with right now,’ I say dramatically, though we both know I’m speaking the truth, and he just nods thoughtfully.

‘Okay. If you don’t want me to love you, then at least let me… love you,’ he grins, making me laugh. ‘You mean physically instead of emotionally, right?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Yeah. Let’s turn this into a thing. No strings attached and all of that,’ he says, and I raise an amused eyebrow. ‘What makes you think I’d wanna do this again?’ I ask jokingly, and he clutches his chest like he’s hurt. ‘Your moans and your crying made me think you’d wanna do it again,’ he says, and I cover my face in embarrassment, the boy laughing.

‘Okay, yeah. We can turn this into a thing. You just have to promise me that you’re happy with this not being serious, that you won’t let any feelings get involved.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise me you won’t sleep with anyone else while we’re doing this.’ ‘I promise.’ ‘And promise m-’ ‘y/n!’ he laughs, ‘we’re gonna be friends-with-benefits. Nothing more. I promise. Okay?’ he says, and I nod amusedly, putting my head back down on his chest. He strokes my hair gently as I trace lines over his abs and, before I know it, I’m drifting off, the steady beat of his heart lulling me into sleep.

#mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine #chelsea fc

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ladymarycrawley · 7 months

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Welcome to my Mason Mount masterlist! Enjoy it and feel free to leave your feedback 🤍

Forbidden but delightful (fluff)

Wet celebration (smut)

The blondie I'm in love with (fluff)

Love has no boundaries (fluff - angst)

The cure (fluff)

Some alone time for mummy and daddy (fluff - smut)

🎄 My Xmas gift (fluff - angst) 🎄

🎄 You make it feel like Christmas (fluff) 🎄

Beautiful boy (fluff) part 1

Beautiful boy (fluff - angst) part 2

Just give me a break (angst)

Daddy's biggest fans (fluff)

What if I'd ask you out (fluff) part 1

What if I'd ask you out (fluff - smut) part 2

Meant to be (fluff)

Time to leave (fluff)

Beach days and starry nights (fluff)

Got a bed with your name on it (smut)

Daddy's little princess (fluff)

The love you deserve (fluff - angst)

Forehead kisses in Monaco (fluff) part 1

Forehead kisses in Monaco (fluff) part 2

I think I wanna marry you (fluff)

Picnic date (fluff)

Good old hair (fluff)

Something worth trying (smut) featuring John Stones

Inopinatum expectes (angst)

I hate you, don't leave me (angst - fluff)

Allergy emergency (fluff) ft. Chelsea boys

Mc Flurry Mount (fluff)

Can I be your boyfriend? (fluff - hint of angst)

Baby daddy (fluff)

We'll be a family (fluff - angst)

More than just friends (smut)

You'll always be my champion (fluff)

I know you too well (fluff)

Three's a crowd (smut) featuring John Stones

Happy Mother’s Day (fluff)

Mrs Mount (fluff)

Angel baby (fluff, hint of angst)

For the first time (smut - fluff)

Perfect to me (angst - fluff)

Two can play that game (fluff)

Say it with a letter (fluff)

Destress (smut - fluff)

🎄 A very kissy Christmas (fluff) 🎄

Insatiable (smut)

You’re my everything (fluff)

Think before you shave (fluff) part 1

Think before you shave (hint of smut) part 2

Morning together (hint of smut - fluff)

It all started with a charity dinner (smut - fluff)

Lazy Sunday (fluff)

I’ll take care of you (fluff)

Good girl (smut)

Ballon D’Or nominee (fluff)

#mason mount #mason mount imagines #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfictions #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #chelsea fc #chelsea imagines #manchester united #manchster united imagines #premier league #premier league imagines #england nt #england nt imagines #football imagines #footie fics #football fanfictions #football writing

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melanieph321 · 2 months

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SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS!!!

Okay, now that my Ruben and Trent fic Dark Rivalry is coming to an end, it's time to go through some of your requests!" 🔥

⭐️ Next week I'm only writing requests, all of which you can read for free on Tumblr and Wattpad.

😱 The goal is to write and post one request a day, so send in AS MANY ideas as you can.

I'm also open to write for anyone, even non footballers, so you Mason Mount, Charles Leclerc and Erling Haaland lovers, DON'T be afraid to send in your requests as well! 😝😝😝

Ciao!

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moneymasnn · 2 years

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Hi! could you write sth fluff with domestic mason. Maybe the reader and him cooking on a sunday night and doing facetime with ben. Then they cuddle in the sofa and talk about their plans on Monday. The night routine they do in the bathroom. Just domestic mason with his girlfriend!!!!

Sunday kind of love | Mason Mount fluff

Notes: I loved writing this! thank you for the request! enjoyyyy mainly just mason being a simp xx (Also this is loosely based off one of my fave songs- A Sunday kind of love: by Etta James!) gif by @movnt | 3.1k words

Blurb: One where after a Saturday night out you and mason spent a Sunday morning together filled with love.

Warnings: None.

Small rays of light project down harshly through the tinted windows in the back of the black cab you were currently crammed in. The light loosely reflecting shapes onto the side of your face, highlighting your most prominent features.

The sounds of his small giggles into your neck were warming your heart as you placed your hand in the short length of his hair, the other caressing his back. However, one of his hands had reached around your stomach and settled around your hip as his lips were placing barley thare kisses to the crease of your collar bone.

The light tickling sensation mixed with the alcohol in your system meant you couldn't contain your fits of giggles as you threw your head back in the leather seat of the taxi.

Your giggles. Your smile. He loved that laugh.

Mason wanted to bathe in the sound of your giggles, he loves when he makes you laugh. That obnoxiously loud sounding laugh that you always apologize for. He loved it when you couldn't control it.

In attempts to meet his wishes his hand that was gently snaked around your hip to hold you down inched higher. To the point where it was resting right along your stomach and now around your torso.

It was almost like you knew his next move as your knees came up in the air, your hand fighting his fingertips away from your side. But mason had the upper hand as he leaned into the warmth of your body more, dragging his fingertips up the sensitive skin of your side. His heart panged out of his chest when your chest erupted with fits of giggles, your back arching slightly as you fought to throw his hands off you.

He fawned over the way his name gently dropped from your lips, begging him to stop through giggles.

Mason pulled his face away from the warm crook of your neck, placing his forehead on yours as he watched the street lamps illuminate all his favorite colors in your eyes.

He couldn't wipe away his smile as he gently leaned forward, placing a sloppy kiss to your upper lip. Quick gentle one, full of warmth and love. The love that he felt the need to give to you every time he saw that goddamn smile and heard that stupid giggle.

Mason's eyes shot up to look at the recognisable street that he called home. When he moved his gaze back down all he saw was your loving smile, he loved this kind of love.

Sure it looked new, it looked fresh, it was the honeymoon stage as most would say. But it had been a couple years since he had met you and Mason was one hundred percent that this stage would never end, he wouldn't let it.

He relished in the feeling of you bringing your hand up, carseing the small stubble on his cheek. Before leaning forward and pecking the tip of his nose. God he is so incredibly in love with you.

It was a cold saturday night, you had stepped out of the taxi onto the cold floor of masons drive way. You stared down at your bare toes on the dull gray concrete floor. Your arms sheltered from the cold breeze due to the warmth of your boyfriend's helpful jacket.

You watched as mason said thank you to the driver shutting the door with one hand, your heels in his other hand as he turned to smile at you just standing there. He couldn't stop himself from feeling giddy at the way you looked. His jacket was almost longer than your dress, your bare legs on show as well as your white painted toes. He admired your lopsided smile and clearly tired eyes. He smirked at the way your hair was messy and out of place only on the right side from where you had been resting your head on his shoulder in the taxi, and how your lipstick was smudged from all the secret sloppy kisses you had shared in the club.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, his fingertips gently resting on your waist as you both walked over to his front door. You heels that he had been carrying all night still in his hands as he gently grazed your stomach.

When Mason opened the door he stood back, ushering for you to walk in first. You stumbled through the door, watching Mason lock it behind him. The last of the warm breeze blew through the door, swaying his blown hair in the way you loved the most.

When he turned around you could see him now in a better light than in the taxi or the club.

His hair was a mess, he stank of the tequila that you had both been drinking all night. HIs eyes were bloodshot from the hours they had been open. You smiled at how his top button was undone, exposing his upper chest slightly. But your favorite was the small smudge of red around his cheek, the first kiss you had placed on him that night, not wanting to ruin your lipstick on his lips so soon, so you planted a soft kiss to kiss cheek. Little did you know the red stain and faint outline of your lips had stayed on his cheeks all night.

“I think I need some water.” You blurted out, you were sure you were standing still but the ground underneath you was spinning.

Mason giggled as he took you hand in his, pulling you through to the kitchen, he grabbed one of his glasses from the cupboard, walking over to the fridge to fill it with some cold water.

You pulled his jacket off, placing it down on one of his bar stools before you somehow managed to jump up on to his kitchen counter, sitting there waiting for him to bring you your water.

You were watching your feet dangle over his lower cupboards before mason walked over, placing his hand over your thigh, separating your legs so he could stand in between them. He gently held the small of your back as he took his own sip of your water before passing it to you.

He smirked at your frown before you bought the glass up to your lips, your throat itching at the cold sensation. When the glass was almost empty mason walked back over to the fridge, filling the glass up once more.

“Go up to bed love, I'll be up in a second.” He whispers in the quietness in his house.

You can't help but think about how lonely it must be for him in this large house on his own. Especially compared to your small apartment in the heart of london.

You never felt lonely in your own company until you met him. You body aching to spend every waking moment with him.

You gently nod your head before standing on your tiptoes, placing a peck to his cheek, wisping away out of the kitchen and up the carpeted stairs to his bedroom.

You make your way to his bathroom, staring at your reflection for a moment, motifited. You looked awful with your smudged lipstick and messy hair.

You try to pull the draw out under the sink, the draw mason had confirmed was yours.

You pulled the handle again but the draw wouldn't budge. You huffed out a groan, one that could be heard from where Mason was standing on the steps of his stairs. A smile crawling on his lips as he knew straight away you were struggling to open the draw again.

He placed the two glasses of water down on each of his bedside tables before walking into his bathroom where he found you, sat on the lid of the toilet seat, a pout on your face as you had been unsuccessful in opening the stuff draw.

“Need some help?” He smirked, crossing his arms as he lent into the doorway of his bathroom.

Your silent glare was enough for Mason to know you did need his help, you were always too stubborn to ask.

He walked forward, bending down his knees, pulling the draw open with ease before he looked up at your annoyed face. He reached in the drawer, pulling out what he knew you were exactly looking for, you make up a remover and a few other bits for your skincare routine.

Your heart thumped as he pulled out every single product that he knew you needed. He stood up for a second, pulling you up by your hand, gently placing a hand under your thigh as he hoisted you up onto his bathroom counter.

He knew exactly what he was doing. He placed the micellar water onto the cotton pads, as one of his hands then came to the back of your neck as he placed it gently over your eyes. He was gentle with the wipe, making sure he had used enough water and had enough wipes to take your makeup off fully.

Your heart swelled as you watched the tip of his tongue dart out of his mouth in concentration. Your hands gently wrapped around his waist as he slotted himself further into your legs.

When he had taken all of your makeup off he grabbed a damp towel, wetting and drying your skin once more before pulling away and placing a simple kiss to your cheeks and forehead.

Mason then placed a small amount of your favorite night cream in his hands, gently spreading the moisturizer around your skin, tapping it in just like how he had watched you do in the mirror most nights.

And once he was sure you were ready for bed, he grabbed your hair brush from the draw, gently brushing the back of your hair. As you leant forward, placing your head on his shoulder. He hasn't quite mastered the art of tying your hair up yet, and if he was being truthful he didn't want to. He loved waking up in the morning to find your hair sprawled out on his pillow, it was a gentle reminder that you were real and you were his.

And last but not least he grabbed the two toothbrushes from his pot, the blue one that belonged to you and the red one that belonged to him. He placed a small amount of water and toothpaste on your rush for you before handing it to you. Watching as you turned around to see yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth.

When you and mason were both done he then grabbed you off the counter, carrying you into the bedroom and placed you down. You pulled your dress over over your head, parading around in your skimpy little lingerie set before grabbing one of your favorite shirts from his top drawer. A draw he had also designated to you.

On the left side of the draw was some of your stuff, the other side was masons stuff that you had claimed to be yours. All of your favorite hoodies and t-shirts of his.

You put the shirt over your head before borrowing a pair of his boxers and climbing into his bed.

Mason hadn't long joined you, laying on his back so you could place your head on his chest, listening to the fast pitter patter of his heart beat. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, gently grazing the naked skin on your arm. You legs hanging over him for more warmth as you also placed your hand under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin.

“Thank you for a really lovely night, mase.” You whispered, tucking your face into him more.

Mase. He loved it when you called him mase.

He leant forward, placing a kiss to your head before he pushed his nose into the mess of your hair. “I had a really good night too, y/n/n.”

“Tired?” He asked you.

“Knackered.” You mumbled into the warmth of his chest.

Mason smiled as he wrapped his arms around you more. He loved it when you stayed the night, he loved falling asleep with you in his arms, then waking up in the middle of the night, nuzzling back into your body when his sleep had dragged him away, holding you all through to the morning.

“Tomorrow we can make breakfast together, then catch up on love island?” He mumbled, the sleep evident in his voice.

“I'd love to, baby.” You whisper before you fall into a calm slumber, wrapped up in the warm arms of your boyfriend.

You loved nothing more than a late Saturday night, full of drunken kisses and giggles, making it all the way through to a Sunday morning tired kind of love.

You woke up in the morning by the slight russaling of Mason's body, you inched closer to him, wrapping your hands around his torso, acting as the big spoon.

Mason moved his head slightly, turning back to look at you, your eyes were shut, your breathing was shallow, but he knew you were awake by the small smile that toyed on your lips.

“Morning.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

He rolled over in hopes to plant a kiss to your lips but you pulled back.

“No, I have morning breath.” You giggled, “I need a shower first, mase.”

Mason groaned out his nickname before he flopped his body on top of yours, his face finding its favorite place, in the crook of your neck.

“My head hurts.” You moaned out, wrapping your arms and legs around your boyfriend like a panda.

“Awe, my poor baby.” Mason moved up to look at you, “Don't worry I'll look after you.” He smiles, pulling you on top of him for another hug.

You both lay there for a moment, appreciating the fact you both have a day off and can spend the full day in each other's company.

After what felt like hours of cuddling you jumped up to get in the shower and mason said he would wait downstairs for you with a cup of tea. You shower off any trace of last night off of you, throwing your damp hair up in a bun and running back into his bedroom to steal one of his hoodies.

When you get to his staircase the smell of cooked food runs along your nostrils. And the sight you see when you get to the bottom was just hot.

Mason was standing over his stove, frying some eggs, his hair was still messy, his boxers were loosely hanging over his waist, his toned chest on show as he held out a metal spatula in his other hand.

You walk over to him, gently wrapping your hands around him from behind, placing a gentle kiss to his shoulder before leaning around him to see what he's cooking.

“Hey you.” You smile up at him once he turns around, placing the spatula on the end of the pan.

He doesn't reply, he just brings his hands down to meet yours, holding them tightly and bringing them up to wrap your arms around his shoulders as his fingers gently trace back down to your waist and back up to the small of your back, bringing you in for a tight hug.

He spins your slightly, leaning forward, mumbling the lyrics of the song that was faintly playing over the alexa he had put on. You knew straight away that the music was one of your playlists that he had chosen, and once again your heart beated out of your chest at the attentiveness of this man. He pulled you in then span you out, dancing with you to the faint sound of 60s love songs in his kitchen on a cold Sunday morning.

You giggle into his shoulder as he continues to hold you close, swaying with you for a couple more songs, trying to get you to laugh as much as he can.

God he loved that laugh.

“Mase.” You mumbled into his shoulder as you held him close.

“Mhm.” He mumbled into your hair, one of his hands held in your has you both continued to gently sway.

“Mason.” You push off of him, a smirk on your face as your mouth gapes open, you try to move your head around him but he stops you.

“What?” He furres his eyebrows at you, caught up in the moment.

“Is that burning smell your eggs?” You giggled, your lips pressing into a fine line as you tried to suppress your laughter.

Mason pulls away slightly, a confused look on his face, “My what- oh my god. My eggs!” He shouted, turning around to see his now burning eggs.

You can't help but giggle as you watch him scramble to move the pan off of the stove, giggling himself as he had just managed to save his eggs from burning.

“It's okay, it's okay. I saved them just in time.” He smiled at him, as he pretended to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

You lean into him once again, your arms around his torso as you lean up to give him a kiss, “You're cute.” You smile on his lips, pecking him a couple of times.

“I try to be.”

Mason forces you to go sit on the sofa and turn the tv on while he prepares some toast and avocado for you both, knowing it's your favorite.

When he finally joins you, you sit with your legs crossed on the sofa, a blanket over your legs and your plate resting on your knees as you and mason turn on some of the last few episodes of love island that you had both missed.

“I keep telling Woody he should go on this show.” Mason says with a mouthful of eggs, pointing at the tv.

You snort slightly at imagining your friend on the show, “We could totally look after his instagram for him.” You smirk.

“No, he would bottle it. He already shits himself around girls.” Mason laughs as he places both of your empty plates on the table in front of him, leaning in to cuddle you.

“He can't be that bad at talking to girls.” You smiled, watching as Mason laid his head down on your lap, closing his eyes for a moment as your hands found their way through his hair.

“Once me and Ben went through his instagram dms when he passed out drunk, y/n it was bad.” Mason said in a serious tone, you let out a little laugh and continued to watch the tv, your fingers gently tracing shapes around the back of his ear.

“You know I applied for love island a few years ago.” You smirk, you can't see his face but by the way you felt his eyelashes flutter on your leg you knew he was shocked at the new revelation.

“Wait, really? When?” Mason moves his neck around, looking up at you from his position in his lap.

“Yeah, back when the show first started to get popular. I think I applied for season four or five maybe.” You smiled down at him.

“You're having me on.” Mason smirked at you, he knew you were a bad liar.”

“What no, I'm telling the truth!” unfortunately your smile had given it away, as well as your ability to not be able to look into his eyes.

Mason let out a loud laugh before turning back to the tv.

“You know I totally believed you then for about thirty seconds.” He giggled at your little attempt to prank him.

You both cuddle up onto the sofa more, eventually the episode ends and you are all caught up. You take the dishes into the kitchen to be washed.

Mason follows you into the kitchen like a lost puppy, smiling sheepishly as he helps you place all of the bowls into the dishwasher.

He loved days like this, seeing you so comfortable in his house. It was days like today or when he had been away for a while and he came home late at night and you were already asleep in his bed, he wondered why you didn't live with him yet.

“Move in with me.” He blurted out, he couldn't stop himself, but now he had said it the fear of rejection was kicking in. He knew you hated how he left dirty glasses in his room, or how he would never wipe the floor when he got out of the shower. He was over thinking how you might actually hate how clingy he would be with you, or what if you couldn't agree what to watch on the tv.

“Okay.”

“Wait, really?” He watched as you closed the dishwasher, putting it on before you turned to stand in front of him where he was leaning on the wall.

“Was I supposed to say no?” You mocked his shocked attitude.

“No, no-”

“Mason, I would love to move in with you.” You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around him for what felt like the millionth time that day, but he didn't mind as he always managed to melt into your touch.

“But I'd like to decorate first.” You placed your chin on his chest looking up at his putty face as you just offended the decor of his home.

“A few plants, and I think my pillows would look really nice in the living room.”

He smiled as he thought about having your yellow plates in his kitchen cupboard, and your blankets over his bed. He just held you tighter to let you know he was okay with that, it would be both your home too.

“I'm not taking the model of stamford bridge on the coffee table though.” He smirked, knowing your thoughts on the small model placed in the middle of his front room.

"You just want me here so I can't do your dirty washing for you!" You joked at him, mason leaguing because he cant deny he has always been awful with the washing machine.

He couldn't wait to live with you. To live every single day like he did today. To wake up and make you breakfast, knowing you will always be here when he got home from away days, he couldn't wait, and neither could you.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount blurb #chelsea #england nt #chelsea fc #footballer imagine #football #footballer x reader #footballer fanfiction #footballer #premier league #Chelsea fc

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