number 13 from the kiss prompts list; jealous kisses
jealousy, jealousy; mason mount
It was the first time the two of you had been out together in public as a couple. Having kept your relationship quiet for so long it felt like a dream to Mason that he could finally show you off, finally let everyone else know that you were one hundred percent off limits.
The Euros were over and even though the out come wasn't the one everyone wanted the team were slowly bouncing back and what better way to get back on your feet than to party? You'd joined Mason and a few of the other England team mates on their holiday away and were spending the night in a local club, the flow drinks never seeming to slow down.
While you'd made yourself comfortable with all of his friends, dancing with them and attempting to play pool, Mason had settled himself against one of the walls beside Jack, a lazy smile on his lips as he watched you. You were currently with Declan's girlfriend, giggling with her and pointing over to the bar where Declan stood.
Mason's heart was full of nothing but adoration as he watched you, body hugged tight by the dress he'd picked out, mind wandering to the matching lingerie set he'd bought that he knew you had on underneath. You looked incredible, that was easy to see, but he wasn't the only one who'd noticed.
You'd had guys watching you all night, eyes on your legs or boobs or bum, unlike Mason, most of the guys couldn't be bothered actually looking at your face. You'd brushed every single one of them off with a polite smile, edging a little further away each time but their lingering gazes were pissed Mason off.
"How's she dealing with the attention?" Jack asked, raising his bottle in your direction. You were making your way over to the bar, hair sticking against your neck with sweat.
"She thinks it's weird. She made all of her accounts private because she said she didn't want people lurking." When you'd told Mason this, claiming you weren't the football superstar so no one needed to see your photos, he'd felt a weird surge of happiness. Yes, the two of you were now publicly together and you'd both posted an array of photos together but you trying to keep some of them private just showed him that you weren't just dating him for his name and the attention he could get you.
"Bro they'll still find a way, they always do." Mason just shrugged, gaze focused entirely on where you were ordering your drinks. You were leaning against the bar, boobs pressed against the counter, a perfect view for the bar tender to stare you down.
You were chatting aimlessly with him, completely oblivious to the way he was ogling your tits like they were a free prize. The worker finally looked up at your face as he slid the drink to you, Mason too far away to make out what exactly he’d said but he didn’t miss the flirty smile that was thrown your way.
Mason watched you pull money from your purse, ready to hand it over but the older guy just shook his head, leaning over the bar slightly so he could talk directly into your ear. His lips were way too close for Mason’s liking and he was still wearing that same stupid smirk and he just managed to make out the words “on the house” before he was making his way over to you.
That swirl of bitter jealousy was clear in Mason’s stomach, his mouth tasting dry with it. He hated having to spend months keeping quiet when guys came on to you or showed interest in order to keep your relationship quiet. He’d already gone through enough anger during those months and now that you were publicly his he wasn’t going to sit back and watch it happen.
The bartender had stepped back a little, gaze back on your boobs and Mason pulled money from his own back pocket, holding it in his palm. He stopped directly behind you, chest against your back and slammed the cash down on to the table, unable to contain his glare. Both you and the bartender jumped but you immediately recognised your boyfriend’s aftershave and the hand in front of you, your fingers curling around his forearm.
You’d tilted your head ready to say hello but the bartender was already speaking.
“What can I get you?”
“That’s for my girlfriend’s drink.” The bartenders eyes hardened as he looked between the two of you. Mason pressed a kiss to your temple, arm sliding around you waist. “Excuse us.” You half stumbled back from the bar, fingers sliding through Mason’s. “Oh and by the way, if you wanna keep your job, you might want to stop staring at girls boobs all the time.”
With that Mason started leading you away from the bar, body guiding yours through the crowd and to the hallway that leads to the toilets. You tighten your grip on him, glass of cranberry vodka still in your other hand.
“He was looking at my tits?” You asked, sending a smile towards a confused Ben as you walked past.
“I think he was talking to your tits, sweetheart.”
“Where are we going?”
“Just..” Mason pulled you down the dimly lit hallway and pressed your back against the furthest wall. “Here.” He cupped your jaw, tilting your head so he can press his lips to your neck. “I’m fucking sick of everyone staring at you.” His lips ran across your collarbone.
“Yeah, I am. I don’t like sharing what’s mine.” Mason lifted his head to stare down at you, one hand resting on the wall above your head. With his other hand, he took the drink from your grasp, setting it on the ledge just to the side of you both.
“Yours?” His fingers skimmed the length of your body, starting with your thigh and stopping at the base of your throat, eyes burning straight into yours.
“Yes. You are mine, (Y/N).” His lips pressed against yours in a heated, messy kiss, hand moving to your waist so he can pull your lower body closer to him. Your fingers threaded through his hair, soft moan falling into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip. “I’m the one who gets to see my very own fashion show tonight right, baby?”
He didn’t even give you time to answer, his tongue making your knees go weak. His kisses were hard and forceful, his grip on your side burning through your dress. Your head spun when he pressed his hand against your thigh, fingers pushing beneath the material of your dress.
“Shh,” He barely gave you a second to breathe before he was kissing you again, his lips silencing any sounds you might have made when his hand was far enough up your dress to toy with the lace of your underwear.
“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled, head falling back against the wall to let him kiss your neck and throat, your fingers tightening in his hair. The hallway was definitely dim lit but anyone walking to and from the bathrooms could see you and the strobe light of the club definitely lit up your figures every few seconds.
“Bathroom then?” Mason lifted his head, fingers brushing your hair behind your ear, eyes dark with pure lust and you couldn’t miss the way he was pressing against your stomach.
“Bathroom.” The breathless reply had barely even left your lips before Mason was dragging you through to the girls bathroom, his smirk unmistakable. You just caught sight of Kyle heading to the men’s bathroom as the door slammed behind you and you knew the two of you would be in so much shit tomorrow.
The admire you sleeping prompt with Mason plsss xx
stop staring, mason mount
you went to bed not too long ago, leaving mason to finish off reading some emails and you to get settled in your cosy bed. he’d finished around half an hour later, and came upstairs to join you after brushing his teeth and getting out of his clothes.
he found you fast asleep already, envying your ability to fall asleep so quickly. carefully moving the covers away from you, he got into bed and took his reserved place — with his arms wrapped securely around you, cuddling into your side. you hummed softly, slightly awake but still mostly asleep, and mason moved some strands of hair out of your face.
he looked at you, his girl, sleeping in bed beside him. everyday he wondered how he got so lucky with you, why you chose him out of everyone else. and you wondered that too. but you were both so crazy in love with each other and anyone else could see that. it’d be hard to picture mason with someone that wasn’t you.
your breaths were slow and calm, eyes shut tightly as your fingers ever so slightly moved every now and then. his fingers traced random shapes lightly on your hips, trying to lull himself to sleep, nothing working so far.
he admired how peaceful you looked, and also how beautiful you were. if anyone thought you were pretty from afar, just wait until how pretty they’d think you were when they got a closer look. every detail on your face made you all the more attractive, you were downright breathtaking. and mason had you all to himself.
suddenly, you stirred in your sleep, mason thinking you were having a nightmare. “stop staring” you said. mason was quiet for a while, a small blush on his face. maybe she’s sleeptalking, he thought. no she can’t be.
he looked back down at you to see your now opened eyed staring back at him. you let out a small chuckle at his face, obviously shocked and a little embarrassed that you caught him. “why’re you still up?” you yawned, caressing his cheek with your palm.
leaning into your touch, he looked from your very kissable lips to your eyes, “couldn’t sleep, and you looked so pretty and peaceful when you’re sleeping” he replied casually, as if he’d done it before. wait had he?
“weirdo” you joked, poking his cheek. you turned around so the two of you were in a spooning position and he wrapped his arms around your waist, now comfortable that he could get to sleep easily. “i love you” you whispered sleepily. “i love you too, my pretty girl” he whispered back, kissing your forehead.
notes: will write a second part if anyone’s up for it :)
He was playing FIFA when you returned from work - you already heard him yell into his headset before entering the house. As soon as she front door was shut, you heard his voice call for you. No matter how caught up he was playing, he would always greet you.
Popping your head around the corner, you smiled. He looked like a schoolboy, his eyes fully focused on the screen.
Jack turned his head to shoot you a quick glance.
“Will you come sit with me?”
“Let me change first. I’ll be right there,” you replied. Jack nodded and looked at you once more, briefly, to check what kind of mood you were in. Work wasn’t always easy-peasy for you, you had good and bad days. Jack always looked after you, no matter if you were tired, angry or cheerful.
Standing in your dressing room, you rummaged through your clothes for one particular, cosy outfit. You had just bought it and it hugged your curves perfectly, showing just enough skin with a crop top and matching shorts in the autumn colour you loved. Jack hadn’t seen it on you yet and you planned on driving him crazy wearing it. Just a little.
After changing, you took a seat in the arm chair across from him and scrolled through Instagram, just enjoying Jack’s presence. Usually he didn’t take long playing FIFA when you were home, you supposed he would just finish his current match before dedicating his attention towards you.
With your thoughts completely elsewhere after a while, choosing your next holiday destination via Pinterest, you didn’t notice him throwing you glances every couple of seconds. He tried to catch a full glimpse of that outfit you had put on, but couldn’t do so properly without missing bits of his game. Multitasking wasn’t one of his strengths. Lucky for you.
Eventually, he paused the game and took off his headset without a word to his teammates, rising from his place on the couch. You only realised when he stood right in front of you. Running your eyes up his sturdy legs, you stopped when you noticed the bulge in his shorts. Your eyes wondered further upwards until they reached his.
“Playing FIFA did this?” You asked cheekily, running your fingertips along his clothed erection.
Jack grunted and shook his head. He took your phone from your hands.
“Stand up. Let me see this outfit.”
Biting your lip and without your fingers leaving their spot in his crotch, you did as he asked. He gently grabbed your wrist and shoved your hand away, his deep brown eyes scanning you from top to bottom.
“It’s new,” you purred, “do you think it suits me?”
Jack’s eyes had turned from their usual hazel brown to almost black. Standing so close to him, you could see how his chest was rising and falling with each eager breath.
“I do,” he growled, running a fingertip along the hem of your shorts, “need to see it from all angles though. Turn around. Bend over.”
The length, or rather brevity of his sentences told you how turned on he was by this time.
You smirked excitedly, leaning over the backrest of the arm chair with your ass stuck out towards him.
“Fuck,” Jack muttered so quietly you could barely hear it, “I’m gonna have to take a photo.”
“Go on then,” you encouraged him, giggling.
Jack took your phone and took a few naughty shots.
His hands then found your bum. They were warm, and the way his fingers danced along your cheeks so close to your desperately aching pussy, you could’ve sworn you had soaked through your panties in no time already. Of course he took his sweet time stroking and groping before finally pushing the material of your shorts and pants to the side, sliding two fingers through your folds. You couldn’t help but moan and so did he upon discovering the wetness between your legs, leaking onto his fingers.
“Fuck, baby. Do you know how wet you are?”
The sound of his husky, lustful voice sent shivers through you, and when he easily slipped those two fingers into you, you had to grab the armchair for support.
“Does that feel good?” It was a rhetorical question really, still you replied.
“Good girl.” Jack removed his fingers, causing your pussy to clench around nothing. His hand found your arm and he turned you around so you were facing him again. His eyes didn’t leave yours for a second when he lifted his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean off your juices.
“Divine,” he groaned, pulling you close so you were flush against his chest. Jack’s lips found yours and you moaned into his mouth when you tasted yourself on his tongue. His big hands cupped your ass while your hand grabbed his cock and palmed it through his shorts. You were aching to feel his thick cock inside you, anywhere to be honest, and Jack knew that.
When his lips left yours, they attacked your neck, nibbling and licking every spot they were able to reach.
He pulled away eventually, “sit down.”
Anticipating what would happen next, you sat down in the armchair, watching how Jack knelt down in front of you. His eyes were glued to yours when he reached for your shorts and pulled them down together with your underwear, leaving you completely bare. Also, you got rid of your top and flung it somewhere across the room. Jack hooked his strong arms around your legs and pulled your lower half towards him, licking his lips at the sight before him.
“Perfect,” he muttered through gritted teeth while his thumbs stroked the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“Are you hungry, daddy?” You asked cheekily, earning a low groan from the man before you.
With those words whispered against your clit, he licked one wet circle over it, agonisingly slowly. You threw your head back in pleasure with a moan, although he hadn’t done much yet. Jack continued eating you as if he was indeed starving and you were his long desired meal. Soon you lifted your head again to watch him, noticing how you were sitting in a perfect spot to be seen by the neighbours if the window blinds were open. The thought of it turned you on even more and you slid a hand through Jack’s locks, keeping him in place. The fingertips of two fingers dipped into your entrance, teasing you, not giving you what you wanted just yet. The pressure of his tongue against you was just ideal, and when Jack finally eased his fingers into your soaking wet pussy, you nearly screamed his name.
He looked up at you, his mouth glistening with your juices, and removed his fingers to stroke them over your clit. This man was unbelievable, you thought, when his thumb replaced his index and middle finger and his tongue found its way inside you.
“Oh God,” you managed to breathe out, feeling your walls tighten. Your orgasm was approaching quickly now, and you hoped Jack would let you cum into his mouth, unlike many other nights before. He loved teasing you, edging you until you were begging.
“Come for daddy, princess. Let daddy taste you.”
His filthy words were music to your ears and when his tongue and fingers switched places again you let go, cumming around his fingers, his rough tongue doing its magic to your clit.
You collapsed on the armchair, not being able to move a single muscle. Jack pinched your clit with two fingers and you squealed, enjoying the soft kisses he placed on your thighs and belly afterwards.
“That was alright, was it?” He grinned, softly kissing your lips.
“That was- fuck!” You cupped his cheeks with your palms and kissed him once more, “your turn now.”
Mason had taken up a love for cooking during lockdown. He’d become one of those people, the ones who searched recipes late at night and had you trying all sorts of strange combos that you’d never usually eat, only really agreeing to it because it brought out a smile on your boyfriend’s face.
You also weren’t complaining because he looked good in the kitchen. Grey joggers or shorts slung low on his hips, that sinful v completely on show because he hardly ever wore a shirt when he was home. The muscles in his arms would catch your attention every time he moved to chop something, the veins in his hands even more prominent than usual.
You found him one day making pasta, back to you while he chopped onions to put in the sauce. He was wearing those warn grey joggers, feet stuffed into a pair of your fluffy christmas socks, a stark contrast to the fact his upper half is bare. Music from his phone filled the kitchen space, and you could just make out the fact that he was softly singing along.
You snuck up behind him, your feet, covered by the matching socks to Mason’s, making no sound on the hard flooring and wrap your arms around his waist. His skin was warm beneath your arms and fingers and made you want to wrap yourself up in him and make him hold you forever. It was late afternoon now but even after all those hours since he’d first woken up that morning you could still smell the lingering scent of his aftershave and the natural smell of Mason that always seemed to be laundry detergent.
“Jesus, I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Mason jumped at the feeling of your cold hands against his stomach, startled by your sudden presence without any sort of warning. “What if I’d chopped my finger off?”
“I’d still love you.” You mumbled pressing a kiss against his shoulder blade. He slightly turned his head and you moved further into him so he could drop a kiss against your hair, a silent greeting before he turned back to focus on the onions. “What food are you gracing me with today, Mr Mount?”
“Just tomato pasta. Might make it garlic and tomato if we have any.” Your head turned and you rest your cheek against his back, content with just clinging to him. Your hands had clasped around his front and Mason lightly brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “You want garlic bread too?”
“Homemade or frozen?”
“But I like yours better.” You whined, tightening your grip on him and snuggling your cheek against his skin.
“We don’t have the right buns to make it. I’ll make you some next week, yeah?” Mason patted your hand lightly before he slid the chopped up onions into the pan. He stretched his arm above his head to open the cupboard and take out some different herbs and you hummed are the feeling of his muscles contracting against your face and arms.
Mason laughed softly, bringing one of your hands up to kiss, his lips grazing your skin in a way that had you shuddering against him. “Feeling a bit clingy today, sweetheart.” He commented, opening the jar of sauce.
“Just missed you.” It was only Mason’s second day free from any sort of training, he’d been so busy the past few weeks that you’d hardly seen him so having him home now meant wanting to be pressed as close as possible to him.
“I can tell.” He started stirring the sauce, biceps tensing on each turn and you giggled lightly thinking about biting into them. “What’s the matter?”
“Just thinking about how your muscles make me want to bite them.”
“You’re so weird.” Mason shuffled backwards, taking your hands in his so he could unlock them from around his waist and turn to face you. His fingers settled under your chin and he tilted your head back, soft eyes meeting yours. “I missed you too by the way.” He mumbled before pressing the gentlest of kisses to your mouth. He lightly licked at your bottom lip and grinned at the shiver it dragged from you.
The rest of his cooking time was spent alternating between watching the food and kissing you, his fingers occasionally reaching out to slide through yours. He’d use his grip on your hand to pull you into his side, another kiss being pressed against your temple as he hummed softly in your ear about spending time with his favourite girl.
being drunk and clingy with marcus rashford (he’s the one being drunk and clingy) please🥺
drunk and clingy, marcus rashford
marcus being drunk and being with jesse was never a good combination. and you knew that from experience. but here you were, at a bar with him and his friends and their partners, all partying like there was no tomorrow.
“i’m just gonna go and get one more drink, baby, i’ll be back soon” marcus told you, leaving a kiss on your temple. “what— no you’ve had way too much to drink” you said quickly, grabbing his arms and pulling him back down to his seat. he frowned visibly, before taking your drink and downing it in one go, completely ignoring the disapproval on your face.
“what? it’s not like you were going to drink it, not at that slow rate” he laughed as he nudged you, making you crack a smile. he placed his hand on you thigh, and started a conversation with jesse and jadon, who sat opposite him.
that was about three hours ago, and now marcus was more or less the same, except the side effects of his ‘tipsiness’ had began to show. for starters, he wouldn’t leave you alone — if you went to talk to some of the other girls, he’d go with you, having no clue whatsoever about what was being said, but still keeping his arms around your waist.
then, he’d place lingering kisses all over the exposed area between your neck and shoulder, ignoring the taunts coming from his friends. “you alright?” you asked him quietly, threading a hand through his locks. “yeah, just wanna be close to you” he’d answer, proceeding to pull you even closer to him.
he kissed up your neck, to your jaw, and then to your lips. you smiled into it, cupping his cheek to steady yourself. the group of people around you seemed to move on to other areas of the crowded room, so it was just you and marcus. and he wanted to keep it that way.
“how many drinks have you had?” you said as you broke away from the kiss, laughing as he started counting on his fingers, but lost track after eight. “yep, that’s enough for you” he watched as you pushed back the shot that was sat in front of him, and honestly he was glad, he didn’t think he could stomach another one.
“can we go home now?” he asked you, intertwining your fingers together. his head leant on your shoulder, and a sigh left his mouth. your lips turned downwards slightly, knowing he was tired and knowing even more exactly what he wanted. “sure, let’s say goodbye then” you smiled as his fave lit up, quickly snaking his hand around your waist and saying bye to everyone.
this is one of my old imagines that i’ve reworked. i hated the way the other came out but the idea was too good to let go so here we are <3
It wasn’t a messy breakup - quite the opposite really. You both simultaneously came to the realisation that things weren’t going to work out between you, so you parted ways in the summer of last year. You never had a bad word to say about Mason. He was your rock, your best friend, and most importantly, your first love.
You cannot deny that some nights still feel extra lonely without him by your side, longing for him to be hogging the duvet all to himself to the point where you’d have to wait until he was sound asleep to even have a chance of touching the material. You miss his jokes, his smile, the way you’d have little comical arguments about anything and everything. His football banter was unmatched, throwing digs at each other whenever Chelsea came up against your childhood club, but still secretly wanting the blue's to win so you could see the contagious grin on his face as he wore the captain’s armband.
You’re still in good contact with his family, your parents becoming firm friends with his during the four years you were together. So it wasn’t that much of a shock when his sister messaged you, inviting your family to the party.
And that’s why you now find yourself stood in the Mount family’s garden, drink in hand, attempting to make small talk with other guests. You’re catching up with Lewis when his mum walks over with a smile, hand on your shoulder as she asks you to help her bring some food outside, “Can you just help with one of the extra trays, love?”
You nod happily, excusing yourself away from the older Mount son and following her inside. Trays cover the kitchen counters. The family going overboard in their usual ways of celebrating makes you smile to yourself. But your chest immediately feels heavy when you see another figure next to the fridge, hand closing the door as he holds a beer in the other.
“Mason! Help take those plates and cutlery out, don’t just stand about watching.”
You cant help but smirk to yourself as his mum gives her instructions, his eyes darting from you and back to the job that he was most likely procrastinating from.
You’re surprised he’s here in all honesty. It was a Mount family gathering, but you expected him to be abroad partying with his England teammates, not at home in Portsmouth.
He exits through the patio doors with paper plates stacked high in his hands, the cold beer that he’d been holding only moments before now sitting on the counter-top, droplets of water running down the glass bottle.
His mum notices your smile is now absent, coming forwards to wrap her arms around your shoulders, putting her hands on the sides of your face before speaking quietly, “He misses you, love.”
Her words echo around your mind for the next hour or so. You don’t know whether you should feel comforted or distraught. Knowing that at any time he’s only a mere few feet away sends even more mixed emotions racing through your mind.
Mason stays stood in the corner of the garden, trying his best to keep himself to himself. Seeing you here, on his parent’s lawn, has brought back feelings and thoughts he thought had fizzled out the day you went your separate ways.
He cant help but watch as you chat away with his older sister, the hem of the pale blue summer dress that he saw you post on Instagram blowing gently in the breeze. He’s always loved how well you’ve gotten on with his family. Their heartbreak was almost equal to yours when Mason told them that you were no longer together.
The moment he sees that laugh that he’s missed so much is when it hits him. He still loves you. He realises that never stopped in all honesty, but after a year a person begins to tell themselves that those feelings of longing and yearning for the one you love are simply fabricated; not at all real.
Every now and then you meet his gaze, both of you wanting to make the first move but neither knowing what could possibly be said at a time like this. It’s clear that you’re not as over each other as you first anticipated before walking through the door of his childhood home that afternoon, an elephant in the room that needed to be addressed before it was too late.
His parents are stood at the top of the patio whispering amongst themselves as they notice the pair of you begin to acknowledge each other. His mum was hopeful that you would remember her words to you in the kitchen, and hopefully interpret them in the way that meant seeing you and her son back together again like you had been for so many years before.