mounts89

[mounts89]

thats nice i wanna jump off a bridge now

Moments of Disdain.

Awful moments where Mason felt like he was falling out of love. Remembering them in a sad moment after he just broke someone’s heart.

I suggest you listen to Out Of Love by Alessia Cara.

Warnings: angst, cursing, absolute sicko! Mason.

The screaming match was nothing like what you both have had before, and even though Mason knew how much you hated getting yelled at, and always advocated for quite and peaceful resolutions, he purposely kept raising his voice.

To him, you were everything, you were his sun and his moon, all the love in the world could’ve never amounted to the way you both felt about each other, but in some sudden and discreet turn of events, Mason could not stand the sight of you anymore. He didn’t know how or when, but he got so disgusted by the idea of touching you, or you touching him. He wanted to remove you from everywhere, he wanted you to completely disappear from his view, and because he was a coward, he never told you, thinking his face wouldn’t betray him.

But they did, and you could see his disdain and his hatred growing more and more each passing day, with a lot of dramatics outrages over tiny and small issues, you slowly started to connect the dots. You didn’t want to believe it, you didn’t want to believe that he wasn’t your endgame, that you’d have to not only leave him behind and close the chapter, but you also had to live knowing he despised you.

The way his eyes would scrunch and the corner of his mouth would rise in disgust, whenever you would say a joke or a tiny remark around his friends or family, the way he’d roll his eyes at anything you did, any changes in the food or the house would be shut down in the rudest and most condescending ways, but you still didn’t want to believe it.

The first poke.

It was sudden and bizarre, his reaction was blown way out of proportion, you didn’t understand how a simple question would require an answer that vulgar and digressive. He didn’t even answer your question, he just told you to shut the fuck up and leave him alone, it made zero sense to you, and you didn’t want to believe he’d ever treat you like that, but there he was, and for the first time you didn’t know what to say to Mason. You stood still in the hallway, holding both purses in hand, trying to recover from his explosive reaction.

“Did I fucking stutter? Are you dumb Y/N?” His sharp voice and intense glare and intimidating stance cut cold through your veins.

You didn’t even think before turning your heel around and walking back to where you were, embarrassed and ashamed, confused that a man who was once so sweet, was capable of being as vile all of a sudden.

An hour later, he walked in the room, head down and shoulders slightly slumped, an empty apology was spilled and some blames were confessed, of course his work pressure was the scapegoat of his actions and you didn’t know that it was one of the deadliest excuses he was going to abuse.

The Sunday Roast.

He was going in, laughing and joking with his family, digging slightly at some mistakes you’ve done while cooking for their Sunday roast, due to awful nerves that he knew well about. His parents seemed to not get it, laughing along, thinking it was harmless, and so did you, but when he mentioned the fact that it was the best he could expect from someone like you anyways, you saw the true meaning of his joke.

“I’m telling you, there’s no way she can get it better, that’s her peak!” He laughed, acting like a grade A asshole, and you were not having it.

His mother seemed to notice how much of a tone change he made, so she reprimanded him slightly, telling him to be grateful or get his bum in the kitchen. It was hectic, and you didn’t want him to take his anger out on you later, with awful remarks and disgusting comments, so you wrapped it up telling her he’s just being himself.

Later that day, you were doing the dishes, mind racing and thinking about his weird tone and behavior. You decided to ask him, and try to get to the bottom of it before losing your mind.

“Was that necessary?” Your voice sounded mad, but he didn’t catch on, staring at his screen while tapping on his controller.

“Yes, if I don’t shoot him I don’t win, how many times have you watched me play?” His nonchalant and idiotic statement made you lose your temper.

“I’m not talking about your fucking game Mason, I’m talking about your digs today!” His eyes rolled at your louder tone, and the way you moved in front of his TV screen.

“Jesus Y/N, can we have one day without your bitching and moaning? Is it always going to be awful times when you’re around?” His hands covered his face, head thrown back on the couch as he groaned at your complaints.

“My bitching and moaning? I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t such a dickhead!” Your arms were crossed over your abdomen, trying to still your shaking nerves.

“So what if I didn’t mean it as a joke? It’s the truth! You peak at everyone’s average, what’s harmful about a little wake up call?” His eyes were throwing daggers up at your figure, making it too hard for you to hold your tears.

“Fuck you Mason.”

After two hours, a bunch of stale and helpless promises and apologies were said, and you nodded away, trying to accept the fact that having Mason around, meant having his intense language and shades of hatred as well.

The car fight.

“Oh my god is there anything you can actually get done? You’re so fucking useless!”

Mason’s enraged state was terrifying and it confirmed why you didn’t want to tell him that you missed the exit. It used to always turn into a fun game, where he’d tell you that he was more than happy to spend more time with you, lost. But you found a bitter and ticking bomb beside you, screaming at you as he tried to swerve into a faster lane to get back home in a shorter amount of time.

You stayed silent, terrified of how sour he turned against you and how he yelled with so much anger and disparagement. It made your heart break into a million pieces, hearing how he was so loud and confident about his hurtful statement.

You felt the car halt, and Mason park at the side of the relatively empty road. You watched as he stepped out of the car, clearly trying to calm himself from something you didn’t understand, giving you a sense of uneasiness. He walked back and stepped in the car, looking over at you for the first time in a while.

“Grab your things and get out of the car.”

Your heart dropped, not believing he was actually going to abandon you in the middle of the road.

“W-what?” Your tears barely held in as your stuttering took over, making you look like a weak and pathetic mess.

“Grab. Your. Things. And. Get. Out. Of. The. Car.” His calm voice told you all you needed to know, and it made you a hundred percent sure that he was positively going to kick you out and leave you on the road.

“Mason what the fuck?” Your tiny voice laced with hurt and betrayal seemed to cause him no harm.

“I ordered you a lift, just get out. I’ll send you back any and everything of yours, just don’t come again. I can’t hide it anymore.” He leaned in to open the car door for you, pushing it with his hand as he adjusted himself back to look away from your teary eyes and stained cheeks.

You did as you were told, and stepped out, no longer able to hide the cold feeling of embarrassment that ran through your viens and ignited your skin. It made you feel so disposable and disgusting, but watching his car race out of your sight the moment you stepped out, felt like he backed his car into you and ran your heart over.

You felt sick, and when you thought about his words, and how he apparently couldn’t hide it anymore, you puked. The feelings of shame and abandonment took over you and your tears started falling, sniffling grew louder as you watched a car pull up and get closer to your side of the road.

You knew no matter how much you loved Mason, nothing in the world could make up for that sort of great break and you were more than content that he no longer had to be around you, so you’d have room to grow, without living on a thin line.

[mounts89]

[mounts89]

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.

[mounts89]

I just read ur last fic, i literally HAVE TO say it was perfect to the last minute. Would really love to see if you are intending to extent the fic a lil more 🩷 !!

omg hey bestie! thank u for saying that UR SO KKINDDD. yeah im planning on it :) i love a slow burn moment soooo i thats the direction i wanna head on i just hope enough people will be interested / wont get bored

[mounts89]

thanks for the fic ilyy <333

did u like it bestie what do we think

[mounts89]

card sharks, playing games

Part 2: Fear is the nightmare I had you were with someone else you forgot about me

Pairing: Mason Mount x fem!reader

Word count: 3.4 k

Part 2: Fear is the nightmare I had you were with someone else you forgot about me

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.

Note: Back with part 2... If you're interested in this story, ily.

Part 1 can be found here

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

Part 2: Fear is the nightmare I had you were with someone else you forgot about me

You could lie to yourself. You could disguise your narcissism as some kind of altruism. You could tell yourself that the apparent indifference you wanted to lead on with Mason was as much to protect yourself as it was to protect him.

But you know this wasn’t the case. 

The impending, and inevitable, doom of your trip back home reminding you that you’re in no position to entertain his advances. 

When you arrive home at 4 am, Mabel and you exchange a wordless agreement to head straight to bed without discussing your respective nights, for now at least. You knew that once she saw you sober, however, her relentless interrogation would commence. 

Mabel was by nature a curious and inquisitive person, especially when it came to her friends’ love lives. So, you’re surprised when she doesn’t pester you with questions about your endeavours with Mason, knowing she won’t see you for a while. 

As you had later found out, however, she had simply forgotten that you were leaving the city the very next morning.

However, you’re grateful that she had overlooked that detail in the midst of late-night fatigue. You’re grateful that the conversation can be delayed until you come back to London.

Enough time to gather your thoughts and plan out your next move. 

You head straight to bed, not bothering to take off your makeup and changing into the oversized tee you can find. 

Before closing your eyes, you open your instagram to see if you had a follow request or DM from Mason. 

But you didn’t. 

Sure, you had never given him your last name or expected him to follow you, but that wasn’t an excuse for his lack of effort. He could have easily found you through Ben’s following list, for instance. 

Who, unlike him, had bothered to ask for your socials at one point during the night that you had managed to escape Mason’s tight grip on you. 

You couldn’t help but think that if he truly wanted to kiss you, as much as he had led on, he would have found you. Planned out his next move.

 ◌                             ◌                                       ◌           

                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

After just over a week later, you find yourself back in London. 

The Christmas break, though disappointingly short, had provided a welcome respite that allowed you to spend quality time with family and friends back home. Although you lived a short train ride away from your hometown, you didn’t go back as often as you’d liked. You had tried for the first few years of uni to visit every other week, at least. However, the demands of academia, along with your part time job at your local bar, were draining, sometimes grueling, and often downright exhausting. 

This constant juggling act took a toll on you, and it was a reason you broke up with your ex, Luka. Who, against your better judgment, you had seen often during your visit. 

Sure, it was immature to return to him, but it was also safe. Being with him was bittersweet, nostalgic, and familiar. Being with him and revisiting old memories was easy. 

In contrast, ‘things’ with Mason (if you could even call it that) were anything but easy. Surely, it was only the alcohol speaking that night, and he hadn’t meant any of the things he had said to you. 

Even when you had tried to distract yourself with Luka’s, when his skin was under yours, Mason had occupied the better half of your thoughts. And that’s putting it conservatively. You spent the whole week racking your brain, trying to figure out why he hadn’t as much as tried to contact you. You wondered if, when he’s on his third glass of whiskey,  it sounded like desire telling him you missed him. 

According to a few texts you got from Mabel that week, he had asked about you the times they had seen each other at Ben’s. You weren’t sure if she had said that because she knew, without you even telling her, how much of an imprint he had made on you, or if it was actually true. Yet if it was true, he had never bothered to reach out to you directly. You found this cowardly, to be frank. He could have easily asked her for your number, but he didn’t. 

You hadn’t yet disclosed the details of your night with Mason or your brief reunion with Luka to her, though you suspected that she knew about the latter from what you had posted on your close friends’ stories. 

It’s past 6:40 pm when you hear Mabel and Ben walk through the door of your shared flat while you’re scrolling through Netflix. 

As soon as she catches sight of you sitting on the couch, she squeals with excitement and rushes over to embrace you in a warm hug. 

“I’ve missed you soo much!” she exclaims. 

“I’ve missed you too, what have you been up to?” 

“Same old, same old,” she replies with a shrug, gesturing towards Ben. “Just hanging out wit him, going to work.”

He flashes a friendly smile at the two of you before returning his attention to his phone. 

“And don’t think I’ve forgotten about a certain talk we need to have,” she whispers in your ear. 

“I have to go, but I’ll swing by and pick you both up around 10?” Ben announces, leaning in to kiss Mabel’s cheek before giving you a friendly wave and walking out.

“What does he mean by that?” you ask.

“We’re going out with him and some of his friends for New Year’s,” she explains, “it’ll be fun, so don’t try to fight it. And yes he’ll be there, so dress slutty.”

She turns on her speaker before putting on her “Getting ready” playlist and pours two glasses of wine,before she finally speaks up again.

“So spill it,” she says passing you a glass. “What happened between the two of you?”

She wasn’t dumb, she left the question ambiguous on purpose. 

“Mason or Luka?” you ask quietly, your voice low with embarrassment as you finally admit that you’ve seen your ex.

She rolls her eyes. “Let’s start with Mason. But we’ll talk about the other one later,” she adds, knowing all too welo how this usually goes.

At this point, she didn’t bother giving you lectures when you left London. She knew that it always lead to him in your hometown. 

You sigh. “With Mase… Honestly, not much,” you admit. “We just talked all night. He told me about his family, told me some of his dreams for the future.”

She raises an eyebrow. “That’s it?”

“Yeah pretty much,” you confirm. 

But you don’t tell her about the way his words made you feel. You don’t tell her about the way his words flowed like honey, and how carefully chosen and crafted they felt. You don’t tell her about the way he made you feel like the only person in the room, or about the fact that he told you that he had “never met someone as beautiful or fun as you.” You don’t tell her about the way that you had almost believed him.

You don’t tell her about the way you had teased him all night, purposefully batting your eyelashes at him and making suggestive comments everytime he took a sip of his drink. You don’t tell her about the way he’s hanging on to every syllable you say. You don’t tell her about the way your defenses almost melted away. Almost. 

You also don’t tell her that for every sweet lie he told you, you told him three. 

“I mean,” you add, feeling like you need to defend yourself, “we didn’t even kiss. So I don’t even think he’s interested.” 

You weren’t lying, maybe omitting part of the story, but not blatantly lying.

She just nods, unconvincingly. 

◌                             ◌                                       ◌           

                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

As you’re finishing getting ready in your room, Mabel bursts in, telling you that Ben had finally arrived. You sneak a peak at yourself in the mirror, liking the way the black dress you’ve chosen clings onto your every curve, applying a bold red lipstick, one you never felt confident enough to wear. Something about thinking of the game you’re about to play with Mason, giving you that boost of confidence. 

It’s like playing chess. You enjoy the thrill of carefully planning each move and anticipating his next one. A battle of wits and strategy, where you try and stay one step ahead of him, and analyze his potential move. 

Before leaving, you reach for his sunglasses. The ones he had left you with the last time you were together. 

◌                             ◌                                       ◌           

                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

When you finally get to the club, you walk into the VIP area and see some of the familiar faces from last time.

You exchange brief greetings with everyone, but can’t help feeling disappointed when Mason barely acknowledges you with a nod. Your heart sinks. You have even planned out a whole thing where you’d give him his sunglasses back - in exchange for a secret. But he’s not interested in you that night. 

Unlike his tough exterior, you’re a mess when you see him. You immediately smile at him, admiring how incredibly good he looks in his black jeans and white shirt. Yet he barely even looks at you. Seemingly more interested in the girl talking to him to his right. 

You’re dumbfounded. You had played out countless scenarios of how seeing him again would play out, and none of them included him acting like a stranger. You had planned out your moves, anticipating what his would be tonight. But this one caught you off guard. All the strategies you had in mind for the night suddenly seem useless, and a wave of fear washes over you as you think about your nightmare scenario playing out in front of you. 

The one in which he was with someone else he had forgotten about you

You try not to let it get to you. You want to give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s just busy catching up with friends, it’s fine, you try to tell yourself. 

However, your fear is intensified when you see him dancing, dangerously close, with yet another girl. It seemed that he was interested in anyone and everyone but you. All while you sat and stared, sitting in the booth all alone. Mabel had offered to stay with you, but you had urged her to have fun. You wouldn’t let your mood ruin her night, too. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts as someone sits beside. You must look miserable right now, so you’re surprised when you hear an distinctly American voice say,  “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Christian.” You take a look at him. He’s cute, tall, and has nice eyes. But he’s not your type. 

Still, you decide that you won’t let this night go to waste, and you might as well entertain his company. 

He seems like a nice guy, and you don’t want to be rude. You introduce yourself and engage in meaningless small talk. You only have surface levels things in common, but his company is nice nonetheless. You even find yourself laughing at some of his jokes. Even if just for a while, you have someone to take your mind off whatever sick game Mason was playing. 

“Do you want to dance,” Christian asks you after he had gotten you a drink. 

You hesitate for a moment, but you decide to go for it anyway. You follow him to the dance floor, letting yourself get lost in the moment. 

You don’t notice that you were standing directly beside Mason and whoever, a different girl from the one you had seen him with minutes ago, was. 

As much as you try to forget about Mason’s cold attitude towards you, being this close to him, was obviously not helping. You dare to glance up at him for the first time since you’d walked into the club, and you notice he’s already staring at you, shooting daggers with his eyes. 

It’s as if he’s silently challenging you, daring you to continue dancing with Christian. You decide to play along and engage in an intense staring battle with him. The same way you felt the same heat between the two of you that you felt when you were sitting on his lap over a week ago. Except this time, he didn’t even need to physically hold you. 

So you move closer to Christian, your gaze never leaving Mason’s. He responds the same way, stepping closer to the girl he’s with and maintaining his unwavering stare. 

He’s enjoying this as much as you are. The song comes to an abrupt stop, as the DJ announces that there’s 10 minutes left until midnight, and you finally break eye contact. You smirk at each other, knowing that the battle is far from over. 

“You mind grabbing me another drink and meeting me at the booth?” you ask Christian. 

He happily nods before excusing himself. 

You walk back to the booth, engaging in pleasant small talk. Seemingly, everyone had made their way back in time for the countdown. Everyone except Mason.

You sit beside a gorgeous girl, who immediately introduces herself. 

“Hey, I’m Sophia. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. So you were at Ben’s party right? I saw you getting cozy with Mason.”

“Oh, um, yeah. We were just getting to know each other, I guess.”

“And tonight, you’re with Christian…” you nod before she continues, “so are you seeing both of them or are you just having fun.” 

Her tone is curious and friendly, not judgemental or accusatory. 

“Oh no,” you laugh, “there’s nothing between me and Christian. Super nice guy, but just not my type.”

“I figured as much,” she interjects. 

“As for Mason, not really sure where we stand. We had a good time at Ben’s, but he hasn’t really shown much interested since then. I guess I’m just trying to have a good time tonight and not think too much about it.” You explain to her.

She nods, understandingly, “I’ve known him for a few years, I’ve never seen him be as publicly into a girl as he was with you.” 

You laugh, unsure about how to feel about the whole situation. 

“Seems plenty interested in those other girls tonight. Probably the drinks got to him, I suppose,” you say with uncertainty. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that yet. Anyway, I’m always down for more friends in London, though. So, if you even want to chat, put your number in,” she says as she hands you her phone before sending you a text with her name and a smiley face. 

Finally, Christian walks back to you and hands you the drink. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “So, my mates told me about you and Mase. I had a feeling anyway we weren’t that interested, but I for sure won’t try anything now.”

You give him an appreciative smile before he continues, “but if you’re trying to make him jealous. And I’m not judging you if you are, I’ve done the same before. He came up to me and said and-I-quote ‘what do you think you’re doing,’ so I think it’s working.”

“You know what would really sell it?” you tell him.

“Mhm?”

“If we go out onto the balcony for the countdown,” you answer, a mischievous smile playing on your smiles, looking up at him. 

He chuckles but agrees nonetheless, hand in yours as he leads you there. 

You try not to look back, but you’re almost certain Mason is watching you. 

Checkmate. 

As the countdown ends, you and Christian toast to the new year and he pulls you into a warm embrace. You feel happy in his arm, and you’re glad you don’t feel the guilt of leading him on you previously felt. 

After a few minutes of silence, as you’re looking out onto the city, Christian speaks up.

“So… what are you two playing at? You clearly like each other” he asks, referring to your relationship with Mason.

You take a deep breath and confess, “Honestly, I’m not sure if we do. Maybe we like the case. But I’m still kind of seeing my ex anyway, so it’s probably for the best if... I don’t know, don’t start anything serious, I guess.”

“Sounds dangerous, but I hope you two know what you’re doing.”

After spending the past twenty minutes getting to know Christian, you decide you’re going to call it a night. If you were honest with yourself, you had only agreed to come because you heard that Mason was going to be there. And you had grown bored at the lack of attention he was giving you. You shoot a text to Mabel quickly before saying a quick goodbye to everyone that was still in the booth.

"Leaving so early?" you hear Mason call behind you with a laugh.

You hadn’t even noticed he had followed you out. 

"Yeah, have a headache and I have to work in the afternoon tomorrow. Figured I should get some rest," you say him nonchalantly without looking back at him.

"Come on, I have a game tomorrow. I didn't drink, I'll drive you."

"No it's fine, I already ordered the uber."

"Don't be silly," he insists, "I'll take you."

You reluctantly accept, knowing you weren’t in the mood to put up a fight. 

He hands you his phone with the Maps app open and you quickly type your address.  

"So, what have you been up to?" he asks as you enter his car.

Hoping I'd see you again.

"Not much, enjoying my time off from uni. Spent Christmas back home with my family, you?"

"Spending time with my friends and family too. It's been nice." he flashes you a smile for the first time that night.

I know. I saw your Instagram.

A few minutes passed, only the light sound of his music playing in the silence. 

“You looked cozy with those girls on the dancefloor, did you make any of them your New Years kiss?” you finally broke the silence. 

“Not jealous are we, Y/N?” 

You don’t look back at him, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Nope, just curious…” you say as he pulls up to your flat. 

“I don’t kiss and tell.” 

Of course he’d say that.

“Plus, you looked like you were in great company too.”

“Not jealous are we, Mount?”

“I have no reason to be, now do I?”

Because you and I are not anything? Or because you know Christian is not actually a threat? You almost voice aloud. 

“Nope.”

Being this close to him, you forget about the night you spent ignoring each other. The electricity you felt the first time being ever-so-present in his car. You can’t help but feel the desire that’s been plaguing you for the past week. 

As you finally pull up to your building and his car comes to a halt.

“Have a good night, lover girl.” he places a kiss on your cheek. One that lasts longer than a friendly kiss should.

So before you walk out, something in you urges you to take the lead and do the thing you’ve both been wanting to do. Every drink you had had that night, sounding like desire, telling you that he had missed you. So before you can overthink, or before you overanalyze your next move for too long, you do it. You move your face towards his and close the gap between the two of you. His soft lips against yours overwhelming your senses, getting lost in the way his lips moved against yours. The rhythm of the kiss isn’t rushed, but it’s definitely needy.

You finally break apart, and he looks into your eyes, “By the way, your no-kissing theory. Total bullshit. That was totally better than whatever it was we did last time,” he tells you.

“Happy New Year, Mason,” you disappear.

If passion was a passing thing, and if lust was a short-lived fire, then you know you want to capitalize on this moment. 

#mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount #mm19 #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagines #mason x reader #mason mount imagine #cfc #chelsea fc #chelsea football club #footballer x reader #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #chelsea #card sharks playing games #mounts89 #if you read this ily

[mounts89]

Babe when is the 2nd part of the series out? 🫶

I’VE FINISHED WRITING IT & EDITINGGGG! i have a clear idea for where i want it to be for part 2&3. but still kind of playing around for ideas fkr AFTER. any suggestions / thoughts 🫣

anyway what do we think about a tomorrow update for pt2😏

#card sharks playing games

[mounts89]

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.

[mounts89]

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.

[mounts89]

Omg I love it! I want part 2 already 💙

Yay! I'm glad you like it<3 I'm thinking maybe by Wednesday-Thursday

[mounts89]

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.

[mounts89]

card sharks, playing games

◌                             ◌                                       ◌           

                                            ‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡       ◌                 ☽︎       ◌

            ◌                                 ✩彡 ･ﾟ *:                                     

                                ◌                                        ◌

Summary: Mason and Y/N 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 the other. Flirting with danger, you feel the deep longing for each other becoming stronger with each passing moment. Both of you are too stubborn to give in, locked in a battle of wills that neither of you wants to lose. With every move you make, you pin each other down, hoping to come out on top, even as you both secretly yearn for the other's touch. It was a dangerous game, but you couldn't help yourselves, caught up in a tantalizing dance that keeps you coming back for more.

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

Part 2: Fear is the nightmare I had you were with someone else you forgot about me

#mason mount x reader #mason mount blurb #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount #mm19 #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagines #mason x reader #mason mount imagine #cfc #chelsea fc #chelsea football club #footballer x reader #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic

[mounts89]

thank yoUUUU <3

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: 2.2 k

Summary: You and Mason being little shits, playing mind games on each other.

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 exchanging a knowing looking, thrilled to be part of such a vibrant scene. 

You see Ben’s face light up 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, 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, your mind has no time to remember who is who, the situation you found 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, grabbing three shots glasses. One for each of you. 

As you’re standing around, from the corner of your eye, you noticed him, not even two feet away. I mean, how could you not. 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 that echoes in your head as soon as you heard it. A laugh you’re sure you could recognize anywhere. 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. Also because of the way 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. Immediately, he 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 he leaves Mason and you alone. 

“Well, I guess we can do these together then?” you speak to him for the first time as you gestured 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.

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 just yet.

“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.

“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.” 

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 stricken 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, I’m 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 you that 

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, “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 that lingers on his breath. You feel the liquoir you’d had starting to take effect, mizzed with his body heat and soft brush of his breath against your skin. You feel your senses being heightened, adding to the excitement and anticipation of the moment. Feeling more alive that 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. Wandering into the house occasionally to pour yourselves more drinks, and to laugh at his friends’ antics. 

You found yourselves getting closer and closer, physically. 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 somewhat 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. 

You pull out your phone as you feel it 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 tension that’s been building all night becoming all too apparent now. 

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

Your heart races as you feel his body against yours, and you can’t help but wonder what those kisses would feel like on your lips. But you have to remind yourself to be strong.

As much as you’re enjoying his company, you don’t want to be just another girl on his list. 

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.

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, do you?”

You chuckle, “No, it’s not that, I just dont 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 spell’s broken.” 

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

“Anyone in here?” you ask him thinking of all of the gorgeous girls that were in the party. You were sure he had kissed a couple girls here. 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. 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 close to him, lips mere centimetres apart. You decide to give him a taste, that drumroll moment. 

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. This 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”

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.

The memory of the night would stay with you, the laughter, the teasing, the anticipation. It was all just part of the game, you told yourself. 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. 

Somehow, however, you know 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.

[mounts89]

THANK YOU BESTIE <3

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: 2.2 k

Summary: You and Mason being little shits, playing mind games on each other.

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 exchanging a knowing looking, thrilled to be part of such a vibrant scene. 

You see Ben’s face light up 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, 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, your mind has no time to remember who is who, the situation you found 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, grabbing three shots glasses. One for each of you. 

As you’re standing around, from the corner of your eye, you noticed him, not even two feet away. I mean, how could you not. 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 that echoes in your head as soon as you heard it. A laugh you’re sure you could recognize anywhere. 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. Also because of the way 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. Immediately, he 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 he leaves Mason and you alone. 

“Well, I guess we can do these together then?” you speak to him for the first time as you gestured 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.

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 just yet.

“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.

“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.” 

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 stricken 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, I’m 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 you that 

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, “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 that lingers on his breath. You feel the liquoir you’d had starting to take effect, mizzed with his body heat and soft brush of his breath against your skin. You feel your senses being heightened, adding to the excitement and anticipation of the moment. Feeling more alive that 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. Wandering into the house occasionally to pour yourselves more drinks, and to laugh at his friends’ antics. 

You found yourselves getting closer and closer, physically. 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 somewhat 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. 

You pull out your phone as you feel it 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 tension that’s been building all night becoming all too apparent now. 

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

Your heart races as you feel his body against yours, and you can’t help but wonder what those kisses would feel like on your lips. But you have to remind yourself to be strong.

As much as you’re enjoying his company, you don’t want to be just another girl on his list. 

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.

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, do you?”

You chuckle, “No, it’s not that, I just dont 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 spell’s broken.” 

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

“Anyone in here?” you ask him thinking of all of the gorgeous girls that were in the party. You were sure he had kissed a couple girls here. 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. 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 close to him, lips mere centimetres apart. You decide to give him a taste, that drumroll moment. 

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. This 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”

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.

The memory of the night would stay with you, the laughter, the teasing, the anticipation. It was all just part of the game, you told yourself. 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. 

Somehow, however, you know 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.

[mounts89]

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

[mounts89]

˚₊‧♡ mounts89 masterlist ♡‧₊˚

Requests/suggestions are always welcome in my ask box!

✩ Mason Mount ✩

Series:

Card sharks, playing games

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

Part 2: Fear is the nightmare I had you were with someone else you forgot about me

Oneshots:

Passenger Seat

The Great War

Second Date

#mason mount fanfiction #mason mount x reader #mason x reader #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mounts89

[mounts89]

I’d loooove a multi part for that fic ! 🫶🏻 can’t wait for it either way

I think I'm also inclined to the same, I just hope I keep you all somewhat intrigued to read the other parts ahh