#mason mount fanfiction

[everscorner]

My Brother's Best Friend

Author’s note: The plan was to hold on to this one until the summer, but here I am posting it. It’s a slowburn, and there will be two parts. For those of you who want to visualise the villa, it was inspired by this one. This is only for fictional purposes only, and please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎

Warnings: bad language, slow burn, not smutty but suggestive, brother’s best friend!Mason Mount, age gap but nothing significant, alcohol, fluff (???), frustrating Mason Mount, sort of love triangle (let me know if I missed anything).

university student!Reader x brother’s best friend!Mason Mount

Word count: 10k words

☀️☀️☀️

July 4, 2022

You don’t fancy yourself a negative person. Painfully shy maybe, even so, you’re not negative. But as you lay face up on your bed, you dread the day ahead of you. You contemplate missing breakfast, but that would make you rude. People can accept shyness, but no one likes a rude person. 

What have I gotten myself into, you think. 

And with a heavy sigh, you blindly reach for your phone, and find it tucked beneath the pillow beside you. 

The time reads nine o’clock, on the dot, but you’ve been awake almost an hour now. Timewise, you’re cutting it fine, but maybe if you pretend that you forgot you had to meet your group for breakfast, maybe feign illness… 

You scoff at the thought. You’re not negative, you’re painfully shy, and you’re a bad liar. 

One look at you and your brother will catch you in your lie. But maybe if you explain the situation to him, he might understand. Or maybe he won’t understand, after all, he didn’t pay to fly you to Majorca only for you to spend the day locked up in your room. 

It’s his fault anyway, you think as you toss your phone back onto the bed. 

If only you had turned down the offer. More dread, this time mixed with regret. And now the question stands: if you’re so miserable at the thought of going upstairs to breakfast, why did you agree to come in the first place?

Well, that’s easy—Eleanor, your brother’s girlfriend. She had brought up the trip at lunch nearly a month ago, and pitched it so well, you couldn’t turn her down. 

☀️☀️☀️

Sometime in June, 2022

“Do you have plans for the summer?”

The simple answer to her question was ‘no.’ There were plans, but none definite.

“I’m not sure, why?”

“B/N and I are heading to Majorca next month, and we thought it’d be fun if you joined us.”

Majorca, you had never been but had seen pictures. It was a beautiful island on your bucket list of places to visit. 

“When do you leave?”

“July third.”

That wasn’t enough time to get your finances in order. And you could’ve asked your mum and dad for money, but you felt bad as they were already paying so much for your tuition. 

“I can’t come.”

“Why not?”

“I’m broke.”

“Who said you’re paying?”

Your brow slowly raised, signalling for her to elaborate. 

“You won’t have to worry about covering the bill, B/N’s got you.”

Back in February, your older brother had started working for a new company, and from what you had heard from your parents, he was earning quite well. 

“Does he know that he’s covering my bill?”

Eleanor laughed, and assured you that he did. “It was his idea to invite you. So, should we book you a ticket?”

You contemplated the offer. 

“Come on, think of the beaches… the warm sun… the men!”

She had you till the last bit. “I think I’ll pass on the men.”

She beamed.

“But the beaches and sun sound tempting, I can’t lie.”

“And you get to spend the summer with me and your favourite brother. All expenses paid.”

“And you're sure B/N agreed to this?”

She nodded and repeated what she had said earlier, that it was his idea. “And did I mention that you are his favourite sister?”

“Eleanor, I’m his only sister.”

She chuckled. “So what do you say?”

☀️☀️☀️

From that point forward, any other plans you had were indefinitely placed on hold. You would spend the summer with your brother and his girlfriend, and that was final. 

A week from the trip, your mother was generous enough to take you shopping for a new summer wardrobe. ‘Just a treat,’ she had expressed over the phone. And your father? Well, he sent money. ‘Just a treat.’

And then you were sitting in the back of a black Mercedes Sprinter, being driven to a villa with your brother and his girlfriend. It was late, and you were tired, but you were excited to be in Majorca. And that made you chatty, which was apparently uncharacteristic of you.

“I can’t remember the last time I heard you talk this much,” your brother teased.

You lightly shoved his shoulder. “Stop.”

He laughed, “I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

Eleanor slung her arm over your shoulder and pulled you in for a side embrace, “I’m just glad you came. We’ll have so much fun together.”

“Just a warning, little sis,” B/N chimed in, “Eleanor went a little crazy with the itinerary.”

“That’s not true.”

He held his hands up defensively, knowing better than to try to start an argument with his girlfriend. He was sure to lose. Instead, he dug his phone out of his pocket and began texting someone. 

Eleanor was rattling on about the items on the itinerary when your brother announced, “It seems our party has arrived at the villa.”

Party? What party? You whipped your head towards your brother, “‘Our party?’ What does that mean?”

“Our friends.”

Friends? Up until that point, no mentions of friends had been made, so you were confused. You turned to Eleanor, “Which friends?”

“Oh, James, Edward, Maya, and her friend Jordan. She’s American.”

“And Mason.”

You whipped back to your brother—man, you were going to get whiplash. “College Mason?”

“No. Mason Mount, he’s a good friend.”

You had never met Mason Mount before, but you had heard your brother mention him a couple of times in passing. He was a footballer your brother had befriended at a party in Ibiza after he had saved him from a group of rowdy football fans who wanted a picture with him.

“Oh.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed now,” he chuckled.

Not disappointed, confused. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned that part to you? 

As if she could sense your panic, Eleanor lightly squeezed your shoulder and assured you that it would be fine. “They’re good people, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.”

☀️☀️☀️

Eleanor was right, they were good people and it was fun, just not your kind of fun. You walked into the villa and were greeted by James, your brother’s best friend from uni, and Edward, his boyfriend. The two of them were standing in the middle of the darkly hued modern kitchen, preparing vodka tonics for everyone, and they were quite pleased to see you.

“And you brought Y/N! Hello, love!” 

You smiled. James was tipsy, you knew that because his face was flushed, his voice just a bit too loud. “Hello, James.”

He pulled you in for a hug. “It’s so lovely to see you again. Vodka tonic?”

You hugged him back, “Yes, please.”

“Already on it!” called Edward from his spot at the large kitchen island. 

“You’ve grown since the last time I saw you,” James said as he released you from the tight embrace. “How’s the first year of uni? Or would you rather not talk about it?”

“Uni’s been good.” And because you thought the answer was too curt, you added, “Challenging, but good. I like it there.”

Edward appeared, bright smile and vodka tonic in hand. He handed it to you, and told you, “Let me know what you think.”

You thanked him, and raised the tumbler to your lips to take a small sip, but it was too tiny to taste anything. So you lied, “It’s good.”

And he seemed pleased. 

James was telling you about their flight over to the island when he was cut off by the commotion behind you, a group of people coming up the stairs. 

You turned around to see Maya and her friend Jordan, the American, and a guy you assumed was Mason Mount, come into the kitchen. More greetings, more volume, and more happy people. Maya was first to greet you, and then Jordan, and then Mason. 

The other two walked over to the island to grab their drinks, but Mason stayed behind to make conversation. 

“I’m Mason.”

“Y/N.” You felt your cheeks heat up under his cheeky gaze. What your brother had forgotten to mention in the car was just how cute Mason was. “Pleased to meet you, Mason.”

His smile widened, “Likewise. What are you drinking?”

“Uh…” your mind froze for just a split second. Of all the times your brain chose to act up, it had to be in front of the cute older guy. “A vodka tonic. Made by Edward.”

“Is it any good?”

You took a second, more generous swig from the tumbler, and grimaced at the taste. It wasn’t that it tasted bad, but there was far too much alcohol in your drink. “A little heavy handed on the vodka.”

He laughed. “Then I think I’ll like it.”

And then he walked away and you released a quiet wistful sigh. You had a crush, oh God. How would you survive the summer?

Edward took you to your room, and gave a mini tour of your floor. Your room was sandwiched between Maya and Jordan’s rooms. Inside, the walls were white, and mostly bare, with just a single picture hung up above your bed’s headboard.

There was a wardrobe to store your clothes; a sleek and elegant bathroom with a shower, a toilet, and a sink; a tiny desk tucked into the corner of the room; and a wide glass sliding door that led out onto a balcony that overlooked the rest of the neighbourhood. Also, the balcony was shared between the three rooms. 

You placed your bag on the bench that sat at the foot of the bed, connected your phone to the WiFi, and made your way back to the main area, where a welcome party had commenced. 

You spent the hour that followed observing your fellow villa mates. Some were drunk, most were tipsy, and you were way past the point of exhaustion, but you held on, not wanting to earn the label of ‘party pooper,’ and it was a struggle.

The group was divided in two. Your brother was out on the covered patio, animatedly telling a story to James and Edward, his arm possessively hooked around Eleanor’s waist. She wore a smile on her face, invested in whatever it was he was saying—you weren’t exactly paying attention—so smitten with her boyfriend. That’s the group you chose to hang around.

Inside, just a few feet away, Jordan and Mason were sitting next to each other on the sectional, and they looked rather cosy which made you speculate on the nature of their relationship. 

They seemed comfortable in each other’s presence, Mason leaning into her as she showed him something on her phone, his hand resting on her knee, and it looked to be inching higher with each passing minute. 

If only I was brave enough, you thought as you took in the scene before you.

But you felt you didn’t stand a chance. Not only was Mason friends with your older brother, which was bound to be an issue, a violation of some bro code, but guys like Mason didn’t go for girls like you.

It’s the simple fact of life, but it didn’t stop it from hurting any less. 

You polished off the remainder of your vodka tonic, the once icy drink now at room temperature, and placed the glass on the table in front of you. 

Moments later, you felt your phone vibrate in your hand. Claire. A text:

Claire 🐻: Yayyy! 

Claire 🐻: I cant believe youre in majorca and i’m stuck at my grannys cottage :/

Claire 🐻: I’m jealous

She was responding to the text you’d sent her earlier. You were letting her know that you had arrived at your destination. 

You: Kinda wish I’d joined you instead

Heading to the countryside with Claire was one of the ‘not definite’ summer plans.

Claire 🐻: Its not too late to change your mind…

You chuckled at her response. 

Claire 🐻: Up for a late night call?

As far as you were concerned, there was no use in hanging around, but you didn’t want to make a fuss by announcing your departure. Instead, you excused yourself under the guise of someone who would return, and made a slick escape to your room.

You locked the door and launched yourself onto the bed with an audible huff. 

☀️☀️☀️

You passed out after two o’clock, which meant you had a little under six hours of sleep, but you don’t feel tired. And now it’s morning, and it’s breakfast, and you can’t cook up an excuse to remain locked in your room. 

There’s ten minutes till breakfast, and you don’t like being late, so you drag your feet to the bathroom and do your best to freshen up, but there’s just not enough time, and you still have to change into something breakfast appropriate.

Suffice to say, you’re the last one to arrive, and all eyes are on you as you walk into the kitchen/dining area. There’s a spread of food laid out on the table, and a bunch of hungover grown ups convened around it.

“You made it. I almost came down to get you.”

That’s Eleanor, and you’re grateful she didn’t come down. You tell a little white lie, that you had missed the alarm, and take your place at the table next to Maya, who looks like hell, the result of too many vodka tonics last night.

Across the table from you is Mason, who looks worse than Maya does. He looks to be in actual physical pain. 

“Are you alright?” you question.

He shakes his head and looks like he might throw up right there on the table. It’s only then that you realise that Jordan is not here.

You turn to Maya, who’s devouring a cheese croissant, “Is Jordan not joining us for breakfast?”

She shakes her head, then swallows, “No, she’s too worn out. Someone kept her up all night.”

It takes you a moment to realise what she means by that. And then your cheeks heat up, and you wish you hadn’t asked. 

“Got it.”

With a soft chuckle, she apologises for the TMI. As you plate your own food, you tune into the different conversations taking place around the table. 

Eleanor is telling Edward and Maya about her plan to spend the day at the beach, and B/N is listening to James tell him about an old pal who recently contacted him about a project he wanted the two of them to work on.

Neither interest you, so you focus on eating your breakfast. And after some time, Eleanor proclaims, “So it’s settled then, we’re spending the day at the beach!”

And her tone is final—bossy. 

“I think I’ll sit this one out.”

The table turns to Mason, who really looks to be suffering. 

With an apologetic smile and slight shrug of his shoulder, he states, “I feel like shit.”

The corner of your brother’s lips curve into a knowing smirk, “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to stay behind?”

Mason rolls his eyes at what B/N’s insinuating.

“Where is Jordan anyway?” he continues. 

“Mate, shut the fuck up,” and despite feeling ill, Mason smiles, and blushes.

The table erupts into laughter, and you force a laugh, but you’re green with envy. 

Mason doesn’t make it to the end of breakfast, and when you leave for the beach around 11, you don’t see him.

☀️☀️☀️

The sound of the waves lightly crashing into each other serves as the perfect soundtrack to your morning. There are other people on the beach with you, children running across the sand and into the shallow waters, and you’re happy—content.

“I also should’ve brought a book with me.”

You turn to Maya, who is splayed stomach side down on her brightly hued large beach towel, directly under the sun. 

“When was the last time you reapplied your sunscreen?”

She can’t remember. “Oops. Do you mind?”

You place your book to one side, “Where is it?”

She sits up and extends her arm to Eleanor’s bag, that’s mere inches from where she’s sitting, for the lotion. She doesn’t have to dig far since it’s at the top of the bag.

“Thanks. I keep forgetting to reapply it, which is really bad for my skin. And not to sound vapid, but I’m not trying to age.”

She takes her place in front of your beach chair, and quickly unfastens the knots of her bikini top, but keeps her hands over her chest area. As you rub the lotion onto her back, she tells you about her boyfriend and how he was supposed to come onto the trip with her.

“He bailed at the last minute.”

Your lotion slick hands glide down to the middle of her back, where you continue to rub, “Did he say why?”

“He’s just an asshole.”

You both laugh at that. 

“But it’s fine. I’ll have a better time with Jordan anyway, even though she’s currently ditching me for Mason’s dick.”

You flinch at her choice of words, the visuals of the two of them fornicating flooding your mind, and you’d rather not think about it.

“How do you know Jordan anyway?”

“We work for the same PR company. We have similar interests so we instantly hit it off.”

“Oh.” You lean back on your chair to assess your work, “Well, it looks like I’m done.”

She thanks you, calls you ‘a star,’ then moves back to her previous spot and starts lathering the rest of her body. You reach for your phone—which you have wrapped in a towel and placed under your beach chair to keep from overheating—to check the time.

You’ve been at the beach nearly three hours now, and you’re kind of over it. Plus you’re hoping to take a quick nap, the lack of sleep finally catching up with you.

“Hey, Maya. I think I’m going to head back to the villa.”

“You’re not joining us for lunch?”

The plan is to lunch at a restaurant a walking distance from the beach, but you’re more tired than hungry.

“I think I’ll pass. And tell Eleanor not to panic, I’m fine.”

Maya chuckles at that.

You pack your belongings into your cotton canvas tote, and raise off the beach chair. “I’ll see you back at the house.”

Eleanor has gone with your brother to search for a cove to take pictures for her Instagram, and James and Edward are splashing in the water nearby. You wave at them as you walk away, and are grateful when they don’t question your departure.  

“Hey, Y/N?”

You whip back to Maya, “Yeah?”

“If you happen to see Mason and Jordan, tell them to come down to the beach. I’ll send them a text, but I doubt they’ll see it.”

You nod, but deep down, you don’t wish to see them. 

The temperature has gradually risen since you first arrived at the beach, but under the protection of your beach umbrella, you didn’t realise the intensity of the sun. It beats down on your exposed shoulders and back, and makes you wish you had worn a cover-up. 

The streets are empty, everyone in this particular area seemingly gathered at the beach, and you’re so lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice the stranger that’s now walking beside you. 

“Hi.”

You stop dead in your tracks, startled by his sudden appearance.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You instantly recognise his accent to be English, and he looks to be around your age.

“Hi…”

He smiles wide, his teeth exposed. “I’m Alexander, Alex.”

Your eyes drop to his extended hand, and you reluctantly extend your own to shake it. You feel it’s too formal though. 

“I’m Y/N.”

Alex’s taller than you are; his pale skin dark from being out in the sun too long; his hair sandy blonde, sticking up in different directions; and his eyes a light brown. A cute face, and he’s smiling at you, making conversation.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

You shake your head, “Are you?”

He tells you that he’s here on vacation with his family, and that they come here every summer, so he’s quite familiar with the place. 

“How about you?”

You tell him something similar: that you’re here with your brother and his friends, but unlike Alex, this isn’t an annual tradition. 

“Nice. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

And then he asks where you are headed and without giving it much thought, you tell him, only to realise that you have made a blunder. 

What if he’s a creepy stalker? 

“You’re not some creepy stalker, are you?”

He laughs at your question. “No, I’m not.”

“That’s what a creepy stalker would say.”

He doesn’t give creepy stalker vibes, at least you don’t get that energy from him, and you honestly don’t want to overthink it. Alex seems nice, knows how to hold a conversation, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a friend. 

He then offers to walk you back to the villa and you allow it, and on the way there, the two of you make conversation about the island and places to visit. And you think he might be flirting with you, but you’re not sure. 

“Well, this is me,” you announce as you slow your pace in front of your temporary home.

“And what does your brother do for a living, exactly?”

You’re not sure what he means by that, so you choose not to answer him. Instead, you reply, “Thank you for walking with me.”

He tells you not to sweat it, says goodbye and tells you that he hopes to see you again soon. And then carries on his way. 

Inside the air conditioner cooled house, Mason is perched on the large sectional in the sitting room, on a Facetime call with a friend. He sounds livelier than he was this morning, his earlier sourness replaced by a jovial mood. 

Upon hearing you enter the living room, he turns in your direction, the smile on his face widening at the sight of you, and suddenly, you feel self-conscious. The sudden drop in temperature inside the house has caused you to perspire, and you’re a bit out of breath, and you’re sure you look a mess.

“Hey, Deckers,” he cuts his friend off mid-statement, “I’ve got to go, mate. Chat later.” And then he hangs up the call, and fully turns to regard you. “You’re back!”

You shift your weight from one foot to the other, “I’m back. Are you feeling better?”

He shrugs, “Eh. How was the beach?”

“Warm, sunny. I liked it.”

“Then why are you back here?”

“To nap. I slept late last night,” you confess. 

And when he beckons you over, you make your way to the sectional, and take your seat next to him—with space between you.

He scoots closer and assures you that he doesn’t bite. “So, what did you do at the beach?”

“Maya told me to tell you and Jordan to join them at the beach,” you blurt out suddenly. 

Why, why, why have you done that? Your mind implores. And how does one recover from such? For a moment, you sit stunned, and wish the ground would open up and swallow you.

“For lunch. Maya told me to tell you to join them at the beach because it’s almost lunch.”

“Am I sitting too close?”

Yes. “No, it’s fine,” you lie, but it’s not convincing.

He smiles. “Then why do I get the sense that you are nervous?”

“It’s all in your head,” and you barely recognise your own voice. Who is this girl? And how is she so calm?

“It’s all in my head, huh?”

You place your hands over your face to conceal your smile and let your head fall back, “What do you want me to say?”

With a soft chuckle and a hand over your bent knee, he tells you, “I want you to be honest.”

The sound of a door closing downstairs disturbs the moment and you are reminded of Jordan’s presence. A few moments pass, then she appears at the entrance of the sitting room, in a bikini with a towel around her waist.

You don’t blame Mason for fixating on her, she really is so stunning.

“Are you guys back?”

It’s Mason who answers. “No, only Y/N. Where are you going?”

“Maya texted. They’re waiting for us at the restaurant, you coming?”

Mason moves away from you, and you feel your stomach drop—ouch. 

“Yeah,” he raises off the couch, “Let me go change quickly.”

Your eyes drop to your fingers that are knotted on your lap. Your face is heating up for a different reason now, and you wish you had stayed at the beach with the rest of the group. Moments pass and you hear a slap sound, followed by Jordan’s giggle. 

You sink further into the couch. It’s going to be a long vacation.

☀️☀️☀️

You successfully avoid Mason for the remainder of the day, but your luck runs out at dinner. In what you deem an unfortunate turn of events, you’re sat next to him at the restaurant, its tight configuration meaning that you were practically on Mason’s lap as you had your meal.

Arms and shoulders touching, knees bumping, and at one point, he has his arm draped over the back of your chair, the fabric of his shirt grazing the back of your neck. You try to ignore it, but he’s so close and smells so good, and it pains you to know that your feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

And so you drink to numb your unrequited desires. 

The sound of plates clattering and cheerful chatter fills the table. As previously mentioned, the restaurant isn’t large, with only five tables laid across the establishment, and they are all taken up by patrons who are here to enjoy the local cuisine. 

It sits directly on the beach, a body of water a short distance from its front entrance, and its lack of walls makes it so you can see the ocean in the distance, waves rolling onto the shore, the sun setting in the horizon.

This is good, this is paradise, you think. 

“It looks like Y/N’s got an admirer.”

You arch a questioning brow at your brother’s girlfriend, who sits directly across the table from you, her half-eaten plate of food now abandoned as she sips her alcoholic beverage. “I do? Who?” 

“Okay, don’t turn now, but he’s sitting two tables away from us,” she seems ecstatic, “and he’s cute too.”

You like the sound of the last bit. Maybe a summer romance is in the cards for you after all. 

“Okay, he’s turned away. You can look now.”

And you do so, only to discover that your admirer is none other than Alex.

“Oh, that’s Alex.”

“You know him?” 

You swallow the last forkful of your meal then push your plate away from you, “Yeah, we met earlier. He’s here on vacation with his family. He’s nice.”

Enter Maya. “Just nice? Is that the best you can do?”

You get the sense that you have said something wrong—offensive even. “Yes, he’s nice.”

“Girl,” she continues, “you’ve got to do better than that. He’s clearly crushing on you, go talk to him.”

With wide eyes, you respond, “What? No!”

“Uh, why not?” they, Eleanor and Maya, ask in unison.

“Because that’s forward, and if he doesn’t actually like me, it would be extremely embarrassing for me.”

Maya turns to Eleanor, “Does she have a boyfriend back home?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Do you not want a summer fling? Or do you not swing that way?”

You laugh. You like Maya, she’s funny. “I can assure you his mind’s not on a summer fling.”

She throws her hands up in defeat. “I give up.”

“Maybe she’s not into guys like Alex. He looks like he’s a bit of a dweeb.”

Mason’s interjection catches you off guard, and you’re offended on the behalf of Alex. 

“He’s not a dweeb,” you defend. 

“The only word you could come up with to describe him was ‘nice.’ I think he’s a dweeb, friendzone material.” 

And I think you should mind your own business, you want to retort, but you swallow your words, not wanting to make things awkward.

“Y/N’s into the bad boys, I reckon.”

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but you didn’t see the point in arguing with him. 

“All I’m saying is that he keeps looking this way, and dweeb or not, he’s really into Y/N.”

Mason shrugs, and in a casual movement, his arm returns to the back of your chair. This time, his warm hand rests on the corner of your shoulder. “I don’t think you should waste your time, Y/N.”

You don’t respond, because you don’t trust your voice to not betray you. 

☀️☀️☀️

It’s past three in the morning, and you’re tipsy from the liquor you consumed at dinner, and you can’t fall asleep, kept awake by thoughts of Mason. He currently occupies a too large portion of your thoughts, and it pains you because you know it will only lead to heartache. 

Of all the people on this island, why did your heart choose to fixate on him? So stupid, so masochistic your heart is. 

You grab your phone from its spot beneath your pillow and open the WhatsApp app to send a text to Claire:

You: Can’t sleep :/ wish you were here with me

She would know what to do in this situation. And if not, she’d find the perfect way to distract you from your moronic emotions.

You wait ten minutes to see if she’ll respond and when she doesn’t, you figure that she’s asleep, and decide to head out onto the balcony instead. Your mother’s words come to mind, ‘Fresh air clears a clouded mind.’

You pad across the cool tiled floor, and take caution not to cause a ruckus as you slide the door open. A light breeze greets you the moment that you step outside, and you inhale deeply through your nose. 

And then you hear them, the distant moans coming from Jordan’s room next door. And your heart sinks at the realisation of what is happening. You weren’t aware she was with Mason again tonight. 

Fuck, fuck, fuuuck!

More than anything, you’re frustrated at the fact that you care so much. He doesn’t like you, you’re his friend’s little sister, and he will never see you as anything more than that. And despite that knowledge, you’re bothered and you’re jealous and you think that life isn’t fair!

The icing on the cake—the most ridiculous part of this whole ordeal—is that you barely know the guy. But I guess emotions don’t work like that. The heart wants what it wants, or whatever, and you just have to accept that. 

Fuck.

The moaning gradually intensifies and it suddenly feels wrong, dirty, to be standing out here. So you retreat back into your room, afraid that someone might catch you and get the wrong idea. 

You’re not negative, you’re painfully shy, you’re a bad liar, and you’re not a pervert. 

You dig your AirPods out of your tote, and listen to music to drown out the obnoxious sounds. 

☀️☀️☀️

July 5, 2022

Breakfast the next morning is interesting. It seems you’re not the only one who heard Jordan and Mason’s impassioned moans. Everyone keeps teasing them about it, inappropriate jokes cracking from all sections of the table, making you wish you hadn’t come up for breakfast.

But eventually, the taunting ends, and the discussion turns to the day’s activities. B/N, Eleanor, James and Maya want to visit Castell de Bellver; and the other half, yourself included, would rather stay at the villa.

And so it’s decided that today, you will split up.

After breakfast, you accompany Maya to the beach because she wants shots of herself in front of the ocean, to ‘show my asshole boyfriend what he’s missing.’ And you’re not the best photographer, but the pictures come out decent. 

You spend the rest of the morning texting Claire. The Castell de Bellver group leaves the villa around midday, and in their absence, a sort of party kicks off. You have come to discover that where there is Edward, there is booze. And music, obnoxiously loud music. 

“You sure I can’t make you anything, love? I make a mean margarita.”

And because you can never say ‘no’ to Edward, you inquire, “A margarita?”

His face lights up, pleased at the prospect of you day drinking with him, “I promise to go easy on the booze.”

Jordan’s in the kitchen with him, but Mason’s nowhere to be seen. You have the first margarita, and when you finish it, they convince you to have a second. And you give in.

The volume at which they speak rises with every sip, and you witness them go from tipsy to borderline drunk in a matter of an hour. And in his borderline drunk state, Edward arrives at the conclusion that he wants to be near the ocean. 

Why?

“Because I’m in mother fucking Majorca, bitches!”

And Jordan agrees. 

Your flags go up, but you can’t properly articulate your concerns, the booze muddling your mind. You don’t think it’s a good idea for either of them to be near a large body of water in their state, but they’re out of the house before you can string together a coherent sentence. 

Curse being a lightweight. 

You think to follow after them, but then you realise that a tranquillity has descended upon the villa at their departure. And maybe it’s a selfish thought, but in their absence, you can finally read your novel. 

You run down to your room to grab it, head out onto the terrace, and make yourself comfortable on one of the pool chairs. 

This, you think, is what I imagined my summer to be.

And you’re basking in the solitude, lost in the words on the page, when-

“Where did everyone go?”

Right. Mason’s still home.

Without tearing your eyes from the page, you tell him, “The beach. They left about 10 minutes ago. I’m not sure if they took their phones.”

“And you stayed behind?”

“I don’t feel like sitting out in the sun.”

You hope that he might be repelled by your stoic tone, but he’s apparently not easy to deter. He makes his way over to where you’re sitting, and takes his seat at the foot of your chair. 

“What are you reading?”

“A book.”

He’s amused. “I know that, but what’s it called?”

When you don’t respond, he reads the title on the cover.

“What’s it about?”

You give a brief summary of the plot. 

“And do you like it?”

Oh god. “Don’t you want to join Jordan and Edward at the beach?”

“No.”

You drop the book to your lap, your finger placed between the pages to not lose your spot. Mason is in nothing but his board shorts, his face nap-swollen, sleep lines marking the one side of his face. 

“You were napping?”

“Mm-hmm. Scoot over.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to lie next to you. So you can read to me.”

What? “It’s a boring book.”

“I don’t mind. Unless that’s you kind way of telling me to fuck off.”

And he smiles, which makes you smile. 

“No, it’s not.”

“It’s not?”

You shake your head, “No. But I don’t think there’s enough space for the both of us.”

That’s not entirely true. It’s narrow, but the pool chair’s built just wide enough to seat two people. 

“We’ll make it work. Scoot.”

And despite your better judgement, you do as he instructs. It’s a tight fit, but he fits—his body pressed right against your own. 

“You comfortable?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Mm-hmm,” then you turn to your book, clear your throat, and start reading from where you left off. 

You do your best to focus on the words on the page, but you’re very aware of Mason’s gaze fixed on your face as you read. And you feign indifference, but he’s so close, and it makes you nervous, and it makes you stumble on your words.

Why are you so affected by him?

He laughs at the funny bits, but for the most part, he’s silent. Listening. You expect him to get over it at some point, bored of the premise or the sound of your voice, but he stays put.

And at the end of the chapter, you close the book. “I haven’t bored you yet?”

“Mm-mm. Why d’you stop? Are you tired of reading?”

“A bit,” you shift in the chair, careful to avoid his sensitive area. “Are you sure you don’t want to join Edward and Jordan at the beach?”

“Why do I get the sense that you’re trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m not. I just figured you might want to–”

Your breath hitches at the feel of Mason’s fingers gliding up and down the skin of your exposed thigh.

“You figured I might want to what?”

He’s so casual as he asks the question, meanwhile, the words are lost to you, your brain malfunctioning.

“I figured…” you blank. 

Suddenly, you don’t know how to speak. 

A fuzzy feeling burgeons from the deepest pit of your stomach, and you know you have to get away, but you stay put because a part of you likes the fact that he’s touching you, but the other part—the reasonable one—sees the danger in his actions.

He’s leading you on. You’re nothing but an ego boost for him.

“Y/N?”

Say something, your mind screams at you, but your tongue’s heavy in your mouth—just a lump of lead.

“Earth to Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

“Are you still with me?”

Barely. Barely. 

You lie perfectly still, afraid that if you move, it might ruin the moment. Under his touch, your body relaxes; your breath slows in tempo, shallow; and you catch yourself giving into him—and you don’t see the use in fighting it.

Thud.

Your novel hits the floor and the sound snaps you back to reality. You place a hand over his to stop its suggestive motion. 

This is wrong and this can’t happen. What would your brother say if he walked in to find this sight? And Jordan? He was with her just last night.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

In quick movements, you peel away from him, raise off of the pool chair and without as much as a goodbye, scurry back into the house. You run to your room, shut the door behind you and lock it. 

Stupid, stupid girl! Why would you act like such a buffoon? 

“Holy crap…” you breathe out.

You’re aroused, your breathing erratic, and you feel like the biggest loser. 

Why did you stop him? Your mind beseeches. Is that not what you wanted? 

And now you can never face him, and he’ll never look your way ever again—not after this.

“Fuck.” 

You might as well pack your bags and fly back to England. Or worse, come to terms with the fact that you’ve just ruined any shot of a summer fling with Mason. 

☀️☀️☀️

An hour has passed since yours and Mason’s pool encounter, and you’ve managed to calm down but the embarrassment hasn’t been as forgiving. 

You tried to call Claire, but she was out biking in the fields with her cousin and couldn’t talk. Reading was out of the question after you had abandoned your book on the terrace, and starting a new one seemed silly.

And so you sat and stewed in the feeling. And when that got too overwhelming, you listened to music to help drown your torturous thoughts. Would you ever get over it? Time would tell.  

Around three o’clock, the Castell de Bellver group returned with the bad news that they didn’t get to see the castle. Apparently, in their excitement, they had forgotten to book their tickets online, and when they got there, the lines were too long.

“I take full blame, I’m generally an unlucky person,” Eleanor quips.

She calls it the ‘sightseeing curse,’ and launches into explaining the phenomenon, but you don’t catch a single word she says, your eyes fixed on Mason standing at the terrace with your brother.

The two of them are engaged in conversation, a smile on Mason’s face as he takes in your brother’s words. 

“… But I did get you a gift!” Eleanor concludes.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She digs into her Louis tote and pulls out a bright pink braided leather bracelet. “I didn’t know which colour to get.” 

“Aw, Eleanor. Thanks.”

It’s such a sweet and unexpected gesture. She puts it around your wrist and it’s the perfect fit. 

And then James comes from his room, looking for his boyfriend.

“At the beach with Jordan. I was actually about to head there, so I’ll let them know you’re back.”

And that’s how you escape Eleanor and her many stories. You love her, think she’s good for your brother, but man, once she gets started, there’s no stopping her. You grab your tote and phone from your room, then leave the villa.

There’s no definite plan for when you’re out the house, but it beats being in the same vicinity as Mason.

☀️☀️☀️

Edward and Jordan are still at the beach and they have befriended an elderly couple. Odd, but they’re still tipsy and they’re very happy to see you. After you tell them that the Castell de Bellver group has returned, they bid their company farewell and head back to the villa. 

“You’re not coming back with us?”

“No. I think I’ll hang here for a bit. But I’ll see you soon.”

Jordan throws her arms around you and pulls you into a tight embrace. It amuses you how people are always the most affectionate in their drunk state. They blow a thousand kisses as they back away and then they are gone.

You take pictures of the ocean to post onto your story. On vacation mode, you haven’t been very active on your socials, which means that you’ve been behind on your friend’s summer activities. 

You’re lost in your explore page when you hear a familiar voice call for you. It’s Alex, and he’s with his twin sister, Charlotte—Lottie.

Like you, they wanted to escape the house and the beach is the perfect spot to chill. And they invite you to join them,

“If you’re not busy, of course,” he clarifies and you appreciate his manners.

The rest of your afternoon is spent at the beach with the siblings, doing nothing in particular, but it’s a lot of fun.

Eleanor: Dinner’s at 8

Eleanor: You don’t have any allergies, right?

The second message was sent nearly an hour ago.

You: Sorry, didn’t see these. I’ll be home before then. 

You send your response to her allergies question, and then you get an idea.

You: Can I invite a friend over for dinner?

You don’t expect an immediate response from her, but–

Eleanor: Only if it’s Alex ;)

You snort at her response. 

You: It’s Alex

You: And his sister, Lottie

It’s been good spending time with your age mates.

Eleanor: Yes! The more the merrier.

Eleanor: Are they allergic to anything?

You invite Alex and Lottie over for dinner at yours, and when they accept, you ask if they’re allergic to anything.

You: No allergies, but Lottie doesn’t like peas.

☀️☀️☀️

It’s just past six when you and the twins part. At the villa, James and Eleanor are at the kitchen island, unpacking the groceries they’ve just come home with. 

Your brother is out by the pool with Maya and Edward, and Mason is back to flirting with Jordan. The whole thing trips you up, and you conclude that it’s best not to dwell on it. Why lose sleep over something so trivial?

Because it isn’t trivial.

“What’s this I’m hearing about a potential love interest joining us for dinner tonight?”

James’s question catches you off guard.

“You told him?”

With an apologetic smile, Eleanor says, “He asked who Alex was and I didn’t know what to tell him.”

Oh goodness. “Alex is a friend.”

But James isn’t buying it. “A friend, huh?”

You laugh, “Yes. He is.”

“Then why are you giggling like that?”

“Nervous habit,” you take your seat on one of the stools at the island. “And I’m not sure if this will change your mind or not, but he’s bringing his twin sister.”

He dramatically stops mid-movement. “You’ve already met his family?”

“Who’s met who’s family?”

You really wish Mason would stop butting in your conversations like this. Your eyes follow him as he makes his way over to the fridge, where he grabs himself a bottle of water. 

“Y/N. Her friend,” James winks knowingly at you, “is coming over for dinner tonight, and she was just telling me how she’s already met his family.”

“Not family, just his sister,” you clarify. 

“Right, his sister.”

“Which friend? The dweeb?”

It annoys you that Mason keeps referring to Alex as that.

“Alex. His name is Alex, not dweeb.”

“Watch yourself,” James jokingly warns Mason.

But Mason doesn’t seem all that phased by your clear irritation. “So he’s coming over tonight?”

And you think your mind might be playing tricks on you, but Mason seems jealous. 

“With his sister, yes.”

But you’re not interested in having this conversation with Mason in the kitchen, so you excuse yourself. 

For the first time since the moment you landed on this island, you have something to look forward to and you don’t need Mason, or anyone for that matter, ruining it for you. 

☀️☀️☀️

At your request, Eleanor and Maya came to your room to help you put together a look for tonight. Eleanor was the stylist, Maya the make-up artist and hairstylist. The transformation is like something out of a coming of age film, and you’re not mad about it.

“Who are you? And what have you done with my sister?” 

If B/N was standing close to you, you’d shove him.

“What’s the occasion?” he inquires.

James can’t wait to tell him about Alex, which starts discourse on the nature of your relationship with your guest. They’re all like the annoying older sibling, teasing and prying, but you’d be lying if you said you aren’t entertained. 

It’s Edward who comes to your rescue, extracting you from the chaos to pull you to the kitchen, where he makes you a drink.

“For courage,” he says as he hands it to you. 

All eyes are on Alex and Charlotte when they arrive, and you’re tense. Jaws clenched level tense, nervous to see how your villa mates would interact with your guests. It’s your brother who makes the first move.

After introductions are made, Edward offers your guests drinks, and the rest is history. For the most part, Alex and Charlotte, stick with you, but every now and again, someone will walk over to make conversation. 

When it’s time to eat, everyone makes their way over to the dining area. Alex takes his place on the seat to your right, and Mason insists on taking the left chair. 

“So, Alex,” Maya starts and you already regret it. What is she going to say? “Where are you from?”

Phew. 

Maya’s question launches an interrogation. Suddenly, everyone at the table—minus Mason—is a detective with questions. Where he was born. Where he’s studying. What he is studying. Future plans. All of it, they want to know, and they’re relentless in their pursuit to the answer.

Eventually, you have to interject and remind Alex that he doesn’t have to answer their intrusive questions, but he assures you that it’s fine. 

“University College London, hey? That’s not far from where you’re studying, Y/N,” Eleanor notes. 

Despite spending nearly three hours with the twins this afternoon, the topic of your studies never came up. 

“Is it?”

“Oh, she didn’t tell you? She’s at the Chelsea College of Art and Design.”

Alex turns to you, “What are you studying?”

“Interior design.”

“Ah! An architect and interior designer, a match made in heaven,” Jordan observes.

You pretend to not hear Mason scoff beside you. 

What crawled up his ass and died? 

Despite Mason’s clear sour mood, it’s a good night. You weren’t sure how the night would go, but it went smoother than you had anticipated. Even your brother, whose reaction you dreaded the most, was pleased.

And as the night wraps up, you’re glad that you invited the twins over.

When you walk them out, you notice that Charlotte walks ahead of her brother, and you make nothing of it until…

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow? Because if not, I’d like to take you out.” Alex’s nervous as he asks the question. 

The two of you are standing in the middle of the driveway. The backtrack to your moment are the cicadas and the distant music coming from the villa. It seems there will be another party tonight.

Your face heats up from the nerves. It’s not your first time being asked out by someone, but it still gets to you. You tell him that you are in fact available to hang out, and the two of you exchanged numbers.

And then he asks to kiss you. So in the middle of that driveway, the two of you share a chaste kiss. 

What you don’t realise is that Eleanor and Maya are watching the whole thing unfold from the window, and so when you come into the house, they greet you with a million and one questions.

“When are you seeing him again?”

“How was the kiss?”

“Was he a good kisser?”

“Are you in love?”

Uh… “You saw that?!”

Neither is apologetic, despite the clear horror in your tone. There’s only one question on their minds: is the summer fling on?

You laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Well, when are you guys hanging out again?”

“Tomorrow.”

Your answer pleases them. They both squeal from excitement, and you almost can’t believe that the two women in front of you are approaching 30.

☀️☀️☀️

After the night you’ve had, you can’t sleep but you know better than to sit out on the balcony because Mason and Jordan were flirting again tonight, and you think you saw them kiss by the pool, but that could’ve been the lighting.

Either way, you weren’t going to risk it. 

In your sleepless state, you did what anyone in your position would do—get on a late night call with your best friend. 

“Wait… when did you meet a guy?”

You hadn’t told Claire about Alex because up until tonight, you didn’t see the point in telling her about him. He was neither a friend or potential romance/fling. You explain that to her, but she’s dissatisfied.

“Well, is he hot?”

You wouldn’t use the word ‘hot’ to describe Alex. You find him cute, but you don’t want a repeat of the ‘nice’ incident, so you search your mind for a more suitable adjective. 

“He’s charming.”

Claire laughs, really loudly. So loud, you have to pull your AirPod from your ear. “Charming? What, is he ugly?”

“Claire, no!” you join her in her laughter, careful not to be too loud as you don’t want to wake the house. “No, he’s actually really cute.”

“I don’t trust you anymore. Does he have an Instagram?”

He probably does, doesn’t everyone have it at this age? But you unfortunately don’t know his last name.

“Okay. Where’s he from?”

You don’t know the answer to that either. Do you know anything about this guy? “He’s studying in London, though.”

“Okay, that’s something.” And Claire likes the sound of that. “If everything goes well between you, you could have yourself a boyfriend when you get back.”

Uh, she’s definitely jumping the gun, but you don’t tell that to her. You let her bask in her fantasy. 

“At least one of us has got something exciting going on in their life. From now on, I’m living vicariously through you.” She goes on to tell you that she hates it at her grandmother’s cottage. “There’s virtually nothing to do. The other day, I started–”

“Claire, could you hold for one moment?”

You think you heard a knock sound from your door.

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, I just thought I h–”

It sounds again, but it’s clearer this time. 

“Someone’s at my door.”

“At this late hour?”

You climb off of your bed and pad across the room to your door. You figure it’s Maya or Eleanor back to interrogate you some more. 

“It could be Eleanor.”

There are so many possibilities for who might be standing on the other side, what you don’t expect is for it to be Mason. 

He’s still dressed in what he was wearing at dinner, and he seems distressed over something. And you’re ashamed to admit that you’re concerned, and that your immediate response is to want to help make it better.

“Can I come in?”

His simple question catches you off guard. “Hey, can I call you back in a bit?”

You don’t wait for Claire’s response before you hang up. 

The right thing to do would be to turn him away. That’s what a normal, sane person would do, but your curiosity has always outweighed your normality and sanity.

“If you’re here to insult Alex, I swear I’ll–”

“I’m not here to insult your friend,” his voice strains ever so slightly at the word ‘friend.’ 

Seriously, what’s his beef with the guy?

“Then why are you here?”

Mason looks over his shoulder then back to you. “Please let me in.”

Your mind cautions against it, but you’re deaf to its warning. You don’t listen to it much, your mind, at least not when it comes to boys.

“Only if you promise to behave.”

“You have my word.”

And that’s good enough for you. You move out the way to let him pass, and once he’s inside, you close the door and lock it. The last thing either of you need is your brother, or anyone, walking in and getting the wrong idea.

You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that this is wrong.

But that thing about your curiosity and the fact that despite everything you have internally said about Mason, you’re fascinated by him, drawn to him in a way that makes no sense to you. Infatuation is weird that way. 

“You journal?”

Mason’s standing at your desk in the corner, examining the objects littering the surface. There’s a journal, a pen, half drunk bottle of water, and a few of your beauty products. 

“Sometimes. I haven’t done it in a while though, so I’m trying to get into it again.” 

You brought out the journal for two reasons tonight: first, to document your first kiss with Alex, and secondly, to vent about Mason.

“So, what brings you to my room, Mason?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

You think the answer vague and leaves you with more questions like, “Can’t you read a book? Listen to a podcast? Music? Watch a video on YouTube…”

Have sex with Jordan. You don’t say that option because you realise that it’s petty—there’s no reason to bring Jordan into this.

“Yeah, but then I thought I’d come see if maybe you were also up.”

There’s something about the way he says that. 

“What, did Jordan kick you out of her room, then?”

And you instantly hate yourself for asking that, and hate what it insinuates. If you wanted to show him that you had no feelings for him, that’s no way to show it. 

With a smug smile, he responds, “No, she didn’t kick me out.”

“Well, I am. So please leave.”

“But I only just got here.”

“Yeah, well you disturbed my call.” 

At some point, earlier in your conversation, you noted that he sounded tipsy. If you didn’t know better, you’d probably miss it. You attribute his strange mood to that, and in another scenario, you’d be fearful, but you trust Mason. 

“I’ll be silent, I promise.”

Your face twists in disapproval.

“What, you don’t trust me?”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” There’s a brief pause, and then, “Oh, you were on the phone with Alex just now.”

“No, my friend Claire.” 

“Were you telling her about me?”

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was telling her about Alex, actually.”

“What about him?”

God, how old is this man? And why on earth are you flattered by this stupid behaviour? Seriously, what’s wrong with you?

“That’s none of your business, actually.”

“So what’s the deal with you and Alex anyway?”

You really hate this question, not because it’s Mason who asks it, but because you genuinely don’t know what to tell people. Just a few hours ago, Alex was nothing but a friend, and sure, you shared a kiss, but surely that doesn’t change anything.

Or are you the bitch?

“Who wants to know?”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m curious. Want to know if I still stand a chance.”

A chance? A CHANCE? “Mason, I’m really tired and I’m not in the mood for mind games.”

You watch as he moves from his spot at the desk to your bed, where he takes his seat at the end of it. Usually, a bench sits where his feet are, but Maya moved it earlier.

“Don’t get too comfortable.”

“Why? Are you kicking me out already?”

“Maybe.”

“But I didn’t say anything to offend your friend.”

“Yeah, but Claire… she’s expecting me to call her back.” And because you don’t care anymore, you add, “And I’m really not sure why you’re here.”

“I told you, I couldn’t sleep.”

“And I gave you options to help with that.”

“And I appreciate the recommendations, but–”

“But nothing. Mason, if someone walks in here, all hell will break loose.”

“Why? It’s not like we’re doing anything?” and cheekily, he adds, “Unless you want to.”

That prompts memories of your pool encounter. The feel of the tip of his fingers floating across your skin; the scent of him, one you can only describe as Mason; and the way he made you feel. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“How old are you?”

His brows knit together, and he seems perplexed. 

“My brother’s 29, Eleanor’s 27. How old are you?”

“23.”

That makes him four years your senior. Age is nothing but a number, and whatever, but that’s a significant gap to you. But then again, you’re also jumping the gun here. Should this happen, if it happens, it would be nothing more than a summer fling.

Who are you kidding? A summer fling? Girl, this is the same man who was hooking up with Jordan just days ago.

“Well, I turned 19 this year.”

And surely, he must know that. I mean, you know that your brother doesn’t go around telling people your age, but surely he could see it. 

All he can say is, “Fuck.”

And you agree. Fuck.

“Well, are you just going to stand there?”

“As opposed to doing what?”

“Sit with me,” he says. And when you make no movements, he adds a polite, “Please.”

Bad idea. You don’t trust yourself around him. Frankly, you think he should leave the room before you do something you’ll both regret, but the truth is that you like having him here, sitting at the end of your bed like that.

He’s so handsome, and there’s a certain glint in his eyes, probably from the alcohol in his system, and his hair’s so inviting. You just want to run your fingers through his locks. 

“What are we going to do?”

It’s a rhetorical question because there’s nothing to do. For one, your brother would have a coronary. Not to mention the age gap, you know Claire wouldn’t approve of it. And his thing with Jordan, and your thing with Alex, and everything.

But his smile, the sound of his laughter… 

Your legs begin to move to Mason of their own volition. You stop before him, and for some time, the two of you just stay like this, your hands in his hair, his hands at your hips. 

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount one shot #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount fluff #mason mount imagine

[kepamount]

clueless

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[deltaromeo3]

ᴡʜᴏ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ? - Mason Mount

pairing: mason mount x footballer!reader

summary: in which the Chelsea women’s and men’s team have a joint training- revealing a new transfer.

✿ A/N: this is a long one yall… couldn’t write short fics for the life of me. + this is my first mason/football fic! hope you enjoy it :) let me know if i should write more mason/football fics? :p feedback is appreciated <3

— Requests are open! Send some my way :)

It was a wet Thursday morning. Training went on as usual; starting with stretching and warm ups.

It was only when Mason was halfway done with his stretches that he realise something or rather someone had caught the attention of his fellow teammates.

“Is she new? Haven’t seen her around before.” Reece asks Ben.

He figured they were chatting on about the women’s team on the other side of the pitch. Mason wasn’t really interested, he’s seen them around before. Theres the usual like Sam Kerr, Lauren James, Fran Kirby…

Well… he wasn’t interested.. not until Kai chimes in.

“Watcha lookin’ at boys?” Kai spoke.

“Number-” Reece squints, hoping it would make the number appear more clearer.

“Eight?” Kai finishes his sentence.

“Yeah yeah! She new?”

Kai nods. “Yeah and shes a forward. But she can play AM CM proper well. Or so I’ve heard,”

“Really?” Mason speaks, a little amused by your ability to play multiple positions- one of them being the same as his.

Kai hums in response. “Why Mase? Interested?” He smirks, elbow making contact with Mason’s rib.

“N-nah…” He takes one more glance towards you.

★★★

You were busy warming up when you realised you were sharing a pitch with the Chelsea mens team. Not gonna lie, you were excited.

“Good morning!” Lauren greets you and you greet her back.

“Good morning indeed,” You glanced towards the other side of the pitch- towards the direction of the men’s team.

She suddenly chuckles, “You’ve got fans.” She chinned towards where the men’s team were standing.

You turned around to be met with Reece, Ben, Kai and Mason all looking your way. Reece gave you a friendly wave and you waved back.

Lauren throws a smirk at you.

“What? I’m being friendly,”

★★★

Training was almost over. Everyone was dismissed for a short water break and so you headed to the sidelines to grab a drink.

As you headed towards the water bottles, you could hear the loud chatter coming from your left.

You were sipping on your drink, minding your own business when suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around to be met with whom you were sure was Reece James.

“H-hey,” Reece stutters. “Are you new here? Sorry, I know it’s a tad bit random but we’re all just wondering. Haven’t seen you ‘round here before.”

You let out a soft laugh, finding it unusual. “You’re Reece, right?”

He nods, “Y-you know me?” He stutters as you catch him offguard.

You chuckled. “Of course! You’re one of the best right backs, how could I not?”

You could see a smile forming on his face, but it was hidden quickly.

“I’m Y/N. And yeah, i’m new. What’s up?”

“Oh- Nah, me and my mates were just wondering.”

You let out a chuckle, “You mean the mates that are looking at us right now?”

“Wh-“ Reece turns around, only to be met with three pairs of eyes looking at the interaction going on between the two of you.

He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah.. them. Sorry. They’re weirdos.”

You chuckled, but was soon interrupted by Mason coming by.

“Oi Reece! Stop bugging her! Sorry, he’s a bit of a chatter bug today. Hi, I’m Mason.” He extends his hand and you shake it. He smiles at you, and you can already feel your heartbeat quickening.

“Hi Mason, I’m Y/N,” You said, trying to play it cool.

Y/N..Y/N.. Mason thinks to himself. I must remember to look her up on Instagram later.

“That’s a nice name. You must be new here! Welcome to Chelsea.”

“Y-yeah! Welcome to Chelsea.” Reece adds.

“Thank you! I feel so welcomed already,” You smiled.

You wanted to continue the conversation with them but your coach was calling for you.

“Well it was nice meeting you- Mason, Reece. But as you can see I’m needed elsewhere. Twas a nice chat!” You waved as you jogged off.

“Having fun aren’t ya?” Coach Hayes teased.

“I’m just being friendly is all,” You smiled.

Meanwhile….

“Nice name? Really Mase?” Reece teased.

Mason chuckles, “What? It’s true innit? Y/N.”

★★★

WEMBLEY STADIUM - Chelsea Vs Manchester United

Your heart was pounding. This would be the game that would determine the Women’s FA Cup winner.

You were in the changing room, pre-gaming. You had your AirPods in- “No limit by G-Eazy” playing. Needless to say, you were in your own world.

You were suddenly interrupted when Lauren came by and sat down beside you. By the looks of it, you were sure she was talking to you. You paused your song.

“I’m sorry Lauren, didn’t catch any of that. What did you say?”

“I said,” She pauses. “You know what? Never mind. Gotta keep your mind in the right place. I’ll tell ya after the game.”

You found it a little suspicious but you brushed it off and continued being in your own bubble.

Little did you know….

masonmount posted on their story

Obviously you didnt know it just yet… You didn’t even have time to check your phone.

★ ★ ★

“A 3p in the FA Cup for Chelsea. They’ve won it for the third year in a row! Y/N L/N, the man- or woman of the match for today! Incredible! Seems like Chelsea made the right decision.”

You managed to score the winning goal, clinching Chelsea their FA cup win. You were overjoyed, once again proving Chelsea right- having you wouldn’t be a waste.

You were seated on the podium after celebrating with your team- trying to find photos to post on Instagram.

You looked up for a brief second, suddenly realising that Reece was congratulating and talking to Lauren. But that wasn’t it, no- not far behind him were Kai, Ben and Mason goddamn Mount. Wasn’t hard to spot him as he was in Chelsea’s jersey.

You continued to edit your photos, not caring much about them when suddenly you felt a presence glooming over you.

“So, man of the match huh?” He teases.

You immediately recognised the voice.

You let out a soft chuckle before locking your phone to look up at him. “It appears so,”

He laughs. There it was. The laugh. The feeling you got when you heard his laugh and you saw his smile felt even better than winning the cup. Maybe that was a stretch, but it was true.

“Congratulations by the way,” He sits down next to you.

“Thank you Mason. I didn’t know you came! I could’ve dedicated my goal to you,”

“Wh-what?” He laughs as you catch him off guard.

“I’m just joking,” You smile. “Who are you here for? Lauren? Fran perhaps…?” You asked, hoping to find out who the lucky girl would be. Sure as hell couldn’t be you.

“Fran?” He laughs again. It’s you, you muppet. He thinks to himself. “Well… do you see me talking to them right now?”

“You could be, they’re right there,” You glanced towards Lauren and Fran, who were already looking towards you with a mischievous grin on their faces.

“I just did. And now i’m talking to you. I came here for you!”

“What?” Now you were the one who were caught off guard.

“I’m here for you,” He repeats himself.

“No yeah- I heard you. W-why?”

He laughs. “I just had to! Kai and Ben were going on about how good you were so I just had to see it for myself. And boy they weren’t wrong. You play better than me.”

You blushed. “Thank you Mason,”

“So can I get your autograph, Miss Y/N L/N? Sign my jersey perhaps? It’ll be worth tons one day I know it!”

You let out a cackle, “Don’t be silly Mason,”

“I’m serious! Cmon!”

“A photo perhaps? It’ll last longer,”

He nods. You call Lauren over to take a photo of the both of you. She leaves shortly after.

Mason suddenly takes the medal off of your neck, walking off back to Reece and the rest, and you followed suit.

“Who’s medal ya got there Mase?”

“Oh no one’s. Just the man of the match.” He bloats jokingly, glancing towards you.

The group laughs. He quickly takes off the medal, handing it back to you but you stopped him.

“Ah ah, wait. Be a doll and pose for me,”

And so, he does. Such a doll he is.

yourusername just posted on their story

“So, what was it you said in the changing room?” You asked Lauren.

She glances over to her brother and his group of friends. “Aren’t you glad they came?”

“Oh I’m more then glad.”

“Awesome. Cause this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of them.”

Your phone dings.

masonmount started following you.

masonmount reposted your story.

#mason mount #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fic #football x you #football x y/n #football imagines #mason mount x y/n #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #footballer!reader #mason mount x footballer!reader #mason mount fanfiction

[the-offside-rule]

Mason Mount (Manchester United) - Theatre of Dreams

Requested: yes

Prompt: 10) Baby's first game

Warnings: none

The sun hung low in the sky as Mason, his wife Y/n, and their son Joshua approached the iconic Old Trafford stadium for Joshua's first ever football match. Excitement buzzed in the air, and little Joshua, donned in a mini version of his dad's jersey, couldn't contain his giggles. "Daddy, are we going to see you play?" Joshua asked, his eyes wide with anticipation. Mason chuckled, holding onto his son's tiny hands, carefully leading him into the stadium. "Yes we are, bossman." He replied, lifting him up as he spotted the few reporters and photographers, not wanting to reveal his son, nevermind startle him. Whilst everyone knew the couple had a child, they didn't know what he looked like or anything about him. "Can you score? You haven't scored in ages." Mason looked over to Y/n who attempted to hide a grin. "Yeah, I'll try."

Mason showed Y/n and Joshua up to the box where most of the WAGs stayed, telling them about where everything is and how to leave after the final whistle blew. "So I'll wait for you in the car park?" Y/n asked. Mason nodded. "Yeah, just-" He was cut from his wrds as he felt a small tug at his trousers. The couple looked down to see Joshua pointing out the window. "Daddy, it's so big!" Joshua exclaimed, his voice filled with awe. Mason grinned, sharing a look with Y/n and once again lifting Joshua up. "Yep, it's one of the biggest stadiums, buddy. You're going to have a great time." Mason placed a gentle kiss onto his son's cheek. "Now, you sit with Mummy and I'll see you after the game, yeah?" He suggested, handing him over to Y/n.

"Bye, Daddy!" Joshua smiled, pulling at his mother's jacket. "Oh, before I leave-" He paused and reached for a black Manchester United bag, pulling out a small box and handing it to Joshua. "I got you a quick pressie." Joshua examined the box carefully before pulling the lid off and being confronted with a bright red jersey. He lifted it and looked at the back, his father's number staring back. "What do you think?" Mason asked gently. "It's not blue." Joshua replied. Mason couldn't help but feel his heart drop a little bit, the thought of his son not supporting him lingering in the back of his mind. "But red is my favourite."

Mason beamed with joy and ruffled his hair. "Good man." He grinned. "I'll see you after the game." He stood up and leaned over to Y/n. "Love you." He whispered. "Love you too."

As the players took to the pitch, Y/n and Joshua cheered with unbridled enthusiasm, their voices merging with the chorus of supporters around them. "I see daddy!" Joshua exclaimed, clapping his hands. "No, baby. Daddy is number 7, not 19." She explained calmly. "Oh. Okay." He searched the pitch again before turning back to his Mum. "What number is 7 again?"

As Mason walked back to the car, he smiled gently upon seeing Y/n leaning against the car. "Missed you." He said with a tender smile, grateful for her unwavering support. She giggled as he practically fell into her arms. "Ot has been 2 hours." He shrugged. "I dom't care. Couldn't wait to get off the pitch for once." He said, pulling away and looking behind her. "Was he okay?" He asked, referring to Joshua who was asleep. "He was fine. He's just a bit sleepy now." Mason nodded. "We should get home and get him to bed."

As the couple reached home, they stopped in silence for a moment. "This is mad, you know." Mason arched a brow. "I mean, I remember my first match as your girlfriend and now we have our son coming with us. That's all I mean." Mason smiled sleepily. "It is mad when you put it that way." Mason undid his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. "Would you mind bringing in my kitbag and I'll bring Joshua to bed?" Y/n agreed before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

With tender care, Mason unbuckled Joshua's seatbelt, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to disturb the tranquility of sleep. He marveled at the innocence that radiated from his son's peaceful countenance, a sight that never failed to fill his heart with a sense of warmth and pride. Gently cradling Joshua in his arms, Mason stepped out of the car, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. As Mason made his way towards the house, his footsteps were soft and deliberate, each one a testament to the love that guided his every move. He savored the weight of Joshua in his arms, the bond between them forged in the quiet moments of tenderness and affection.

Mason kicked off his shoes upon reaching the front door. He loved home. The warmth of the house enveloped them like a comforting embrace and each step on the soft carpet adding to the comfort. Mason tiptoed up the stairs, his movements fluid and effortless as he navigated the familiar terrain of their home.

Mason opened the nursery door, hushing Joshua as he stirred in his sleep. Mason gently laid his sleeping son down in his crib, tucking the blankets around him with infinite care. He lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on Joshua's innocent face. "You doing alright?" He turned to see Y/n leaning by the door. "Just fine. I'll be right back to you in a minute and we can go watch a film or something." He replied. "Or try for baby number 2." He almost jumped at the suggestion. "Do you mean it?" Y/n chuckled softly at her husband's reaction. "Maybe. Don't leave me waiting too long." She said before heading away downstairs.

"Goodnight, Joshua." Mason said as he brushed a gentle kiss against Joshua's forehead. With a final glance, Mason tiptoed out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, and for his son to sleep after spending his evening in the Theatre of Dreams.

#football #football imagines #football blurbs #mason mount x oc #mason mount x you #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount

[heyhihellosworld]

𝗛𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁!

Pt 2 Pt 3

Mason Mount x reader

Word count: 4.5k, this is the longest one i've written so far

Summary: A quick bathroom fuck never hurt no one. Right?

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Notes: Had fun writing this but didn't quite turn out the way I wanted. Plus I can't write Jack's accent so just pretend it's his talking lol and also smut is really hard to write so sorry for it, just couldn't skip it

"Oh my" you sighed, shaking your head at your brother. You were sprawled out on the couch, listening to Jack who hadn't stopped ranting for the last thirty minutes.

"Jack, come on man" you laughed, flicking his forehead with your fingers and ignoring his grimace. "I know what to do, I have been to games before. I won't go outside the box in game-time and I will see you later on" you summarized his rant with a pointed expression.

"I know you have, it's just... It was a long time ago and I just want ya to be safe" he sighed, standing up and heading to the kitchen, filling a bottle with water. "And you forgot one thing"

You scoffed at him, leaning your head back against the couch with a sarcastic chuckle "Oh wow, I'm so sorry how could I forget"

"Don't apricate the tone"

You laughed for real this time, meeting his playful eyes from across the room "I won't fuck any of your teammates Jack"

He hummed in appreciation of your words but couldn't help but fill in "any footballers"

"I won't fuck your teammats Jack" you declared, making him grunt "what, no no, no footballers" "That's mean!" you argued but he shook his head

You raised your eyebrows at him in a daring way "Either way you agree with no teammates or I will fuck all of your teammates" you threatened halfheartedly, eyes narrowing at his face.

"Fine" he sighed, giving up. It wasn't like you planned on fucking any of them, at least not tonight but you still felt good having won that small battle.

"Okay well are you ready?" he asked, making you jerk your head up from the couch "What? But it's like three hours to the game" you protested, not being ready at all.

"Well yeah, but if you wanna go you need to go with me and I have to be there in twenty minutes" "Why can't I just take an uber?" you questioned but stood up anyway, you knew this was a battle he would win and you were not ready to go yet. "No, just go get ready" Jack chuckled as you sprinted up the stair of his house. You had moved in with your brother a few days ago after having come home from studying in France for the last three years.

You had always been close, it only being three years between the two of you meant you had grown up really close. So when you announced you wanted to move back to England this year he had opened his home for you immediately, pleading you to live with him rather than your parents until you found a job and arranged a living on your own.

You sprinted to the bathroom, brushing your hair and whipping up some mascara before changing into a simple outfit, a hoodie and jeans since you were gonna wear his shirt later on anyways. Since Jack was always late so you didn't hurry your ass too much but took your time.

When you emerged from the stairs fifteen minutes later he was sprawled out on the couch smiling as you walked towards him, standing up and giving you a side hug. "I really missed you ya know" he hummed a smile taking over your face "well I have missed you to Jack"

He messed your hair around in a loving manner before you both tied your shoes and made your way to his car. He lived close to the arena and considering it was a home game it was only a fifteen minutes drive.

"I bet you'll start on the bench if you'r late" you hummed jokingly "nah, not when I got you with me" Jack grinned "Plus I warned them about it yesterday so don't worry, you won't miss me on the pitch, you will get to live your dream"

You smiled at him, "wow, how nice"

He grinned back at you, he looked just the same he had always done, of course he looked a lil more mature and manly then when he was a kid but not much had changed. He had the same strong face, same long stroppy hair and the same humor and personality. Never failing to make you smile.

"So, what will I do for five hours?" Jack shrugged "I don't know, entertain yourself"

"Are you gonna leave me on a bench?" you joked dramatically but when he shrugged you gasped "Jack Peter Grealish you are not leaving me like that!"

"Don't middle name me"

"Well don't leave me on a bench for five hours then!"

"I haven't done anything yet! We are in the car for fucks sake"

"Okay okay" you giggled "I'm gonna follow you around"

"You can not follow me into the changing room"

"Well fine, I can understand that but otherwise"

"Yeah, yeah, just don't get on ma nerves" he grunted, already regretting talking you into going with him.

"As you bed you lay" you grinned, messing his hair up to his dismay, grimace spreading over his features as he tried to fix his looks before you rolled up to the parking lot. There were already a couple of fans outside, wanting to talk to Jack and he was nice enough to wave his window down, sign some shirts and talk a little to the fans before excusing himself and driving into the private part of the park.

"Okay, behave now" he scolded playfully, your eyes rolling at his manner. "Oi! I saw that!"

You rolled your eyes again with a smile on your lips, ignoring his yelp and climbing out of the car. "Just go in Jack"

You walked after him into the building, he had a meet up with the team and then they walked to the pitch. It wasn't actually five hours but more like two-three hours until kickoff.

You didn't want to actually hang off him all day because you knew he needed to get into his mood as well so you opted to go directly to the arena and climbed up in the middle of the stand. It had been a long time since you were there last. You had grown up with the same passion for football as your brother but had never acted on it. You loved it but you didn't want it to be your job, only your hobby.

You had stopped playing as a teen and then opted to play only for fun in the garden with Jack or someone else when the opportunity came up. Even though you hadn't been here and watched his games you hadn't missed a single one of his since you moved. But you had to admit that sitting here beat the couch. Even empty the atmosphere was awesome.

You studied the players as they walked onto the pitch. It was an awesome game today, City against Chelsea. You didn't know that many players outside of City but Chelsea were a good team that you knew. Plus you had always had an extra eye for a few players at Chelsea.

Soon the players started to tumble onto the pitch. You spotted Jack walking with Phil, humming along each other and laughing, probably a stupid joke of Jack's.

Your air-pods buzzed by the sounds of your playlist whilst you just observed. Soon dark blue clothed players started to come onto the pitch as well, greeting some of the city players before focusing.

You let your eyes fleet around, naming the players you knew by name which was close to everyone. You knew a few of them personally but it was mostly Villa players you had met.

Suddenly your eyes stuck on one of the Chelsea players. He stuck out to you, not because he looked special or weird he just... stuck out. He had headphones on and looked really into his zone. Fair brown fluffy hair stuck out messily around the headphones and he had a slight scruff covering his chin. He was more than handsome.

Your eyes followed him around as he walked, stopping after a while to talk to Jack and a few other City players. You couldn't put a name to his face.

The idea of asking Jack about him traveled into your mind but you quickly waved the idea out of your head. He would never tell you if he got the impression you thought he was good looking.

As you stared at his movements he suddenly looked up at you, meeting your eyes with a concentrated look. You froze in your seat, shit had he noticed you staring. You tried to play it off but didn't move your eyes from him, mirroring the grin he gave you as he had spotted you.

His tongue poked out from the side of his mouth, swiping over his bottomlip before he followed his teammates off the pitch and back down the tunnel.

-

"Hey, you fell asleep?"

Your head snapped around to the tunnel where Jack's head poked out. "No no, just calm here" you hummed

Jack chuckled, nodding. Okay I just wanted to check on you, people are starting to come now so get away from there. We will start warming up in ten"

You nodded, walking down from the stand and into the tunnel where they were already preparing for the public. You squeezed yourself past and walked with Jack into the tunnel. "Hey, can I get coffee?" you pulled your cutest face, blinking at him while he rolled his eyes. "Sure, let me just check they are all dressed" he grunted, leaving you in the stairs. "Fine, come in" Jack gruffed, holding the door open for you into the city area of the building.

You waved trough the opening at the players who all greeted you back before taking a cup and making yourself some coffee while Jack looked at you with crossed arms. You weren't new to his teammates. During your French years you had been home to visit and met most of them. It had become known that where Jack went you went too. He was protective and always wanted to have you under his sight when there were a lot of people around.

"So, in ten minutes it's warm up so you gotta get to the box and please-" "I won't leave the box Jack" you sighed, rolling your eyes. "Calm down, It'll be fine"

"Little Grealish" John grinned, cutting off your conversation with Jack as he engulfed you in a hug "ah hi Stones, how are ya?"

"All good, what about you? Haven't seen you for a long time"

"I'm all good" you smiled "Jack said you moved back here?"

You nodded, sipping your coffee "Yeah, earlier this week, I finished my studies so it felt like the right decision"

"Well that's really nice, maybe I will see you around a little more than?" he grinned making Jack cough beside you "Yeah you sure will" you smiled, not missing the wink he threw you before going back to his seat.

"No" Jack grunted before you had even had the time to look at him. Laughter spilled out of your mouth before you could stop it "What"

"No, not gonna happen he is old plus he is my teammate"

You chuckled, leaning against his side "Don't worry Jack, I'm not into Stones, plus he has a girlfriend"

"Didn't seem to stop him" he grunted "Maybe not but it stops me. You don't have to be so tense Jack. I can take care of myself and I won't sleep with your teammates, I promised"

"Okay, Okay" he sighed, giving up on the argument. "Anyway, I'm just gonna fill this up and then i'll go. Good luck" you smiled, kissing his cheek before shouting a collective good luck and moving to your seat.

It was packed in the stadium already, people bussing for an hopefully exciting game. You smiled as you saw him jog up the pitch in his light blue set. Hair flopping as he ran. But soon your eyes changed direction as dark blue clothed men started to jog into the other half of the pitch.

Your eyes immediately found him, he looked ridiculously hot in his set, hair flopping a little and tongue again poking out from his lips. You noticed he was popular by the way the arena started buzzing as he did something towards them but yet you couldn't put your finger on who he was. You followed City and some national teams but not more than that. It was what you had time for.

The whole game your eyes seemed to fleet back to the brunette. He played really well and you caught yourself cheering when he scored a goal. Stopping quickly as you realized your betrayal.

Jack played really good too, creating a lot on his side and almost scoring a goal.

When the final whistle blew it was 3-2 to City and you cheered as the team waved up to the stands, clapping their hands to thank the public. You quickly slipped down to Jack again, just as he had told you too. All players had gone into the changing rooms so you sat down on the top of the stairs. Resting your back against the wall.

You were kinda tired, it had been an early morning and there was always a lot of tension and excitement during the game, a tension that was let off and left tiredness.

You went on your phone, sighing at all the notifications and shutting it again.

"Are you lost?"

You flinched, almost losing balance at the voice. Your head almost snapped off as you looked at the man who stood on the top of the stairs, looking down at you with a small smirk.

You felt your face heat up as you saw the familiar face of the handsome Chelsea player. "Ah, no" you said, your voice coming out choked and hurried. You cursed yourself, forcing yourself to calm down and act cool despite how ridiculously hot this man was.

"Really because usually fans aren't allowed to be here, how did you even get here?" "Ah you know I just climbed over the wall" you said in ironic voice, loving the smile that lit up his face

"So noticing tre sarcasm I'm guessing you're allowed here"

"Yeah" you breathed "My brother is playing on the team" you clarified making him hum in recognition "I see, i'm guessing city?" he grinned, looking down at your light blue shirt you had pulled on over your hoodie. "Yeah"

"Mase come on man!"

Mason looked back over his shoulder where one of his teammates shouted after him "Ah shit, I need to go. Pleasure to meet you..." "y/n"

"Ah, Mason" he greeted, shaking your hand awkwardly as you chuckled "MASON!"

"I'm coming!"

He bid farewell, jogging out the tunnel to grab something before winking at you as he went past up the stairs and into the changing room again.

You felt as if your whole body flushed as you looked after him, shaking your head at how you were acting. He was a normal human being for fucks sake. Just ridiculously gorgeous.

"Ah there you are" Jack grinned as he walked out into the hall, grinning widely, his hair all dripping wet. "Congratulations" you grinned, hugging him shortly before pulling off, not wanting to get soaked by him. "Thanks" he grinned with his characteristic smile.

"I'm just gonna go get changed then we're gonna go out for a couple of drinks. I can drop you off if you don't wanna go" "Nah, it sounds fun" you assured, meeting his smile as he slipped inside the changingroom again.

--

The club was packed. Sure it was starting to get into evening time but still, pretty early to get to the club in your opinion. Jack had taken you to a McDonald's after whining you were hungry but he had refused to go home so you could change but after downing your meal you were pretty happy regardless.

It was nice in the club, you talked a little amongst his teammates, drank a little until the clock turned to a more decent time where you began drinking for real. The club started getting busier and more and more alcohol went down your throat. Jack was somewhere unknown so you entertained yourself with Ruben. Someone you'd always found ridiculously attractive but you never acted on it, you wouldn't today either but a lil flirting and teasing didn't hurt.

After a little while you excused yourself to the bar, pushing through a lot of bodies to get to the front. You got your drink and turned around with a sigh, leaning against the side of the bar while sipping on it.

"Did someone ditch you here?"

Your eyes flickered up at the voice you somehow remembered it but couldn't place it until you saw that face again, Mason.

You couldn't hide the grin that spread on your face upon seeing him again, grinning lazily at him. "Hello Mason" you smiled

"No one ditched me, I just wanted some more alcohol" you answered, swirling your glass in front of him whilst he hummed.

"What are you doing here?" you questioned, looking over his shoulder to see if any other Chelsea players were there as well but you couldn't recognize anyone.

"Stones told me they were going and I thought why not, it's not too often i'm in manchester" he answered your question. You nodded in understanding, not really clicking it all together.

"So, what did you think of the game?" "Ah really good, good goal too" you hummed, looking into his brown eyes. He looked so good it felt cruel. He had changed into a simple white tee and dark jeans, his hair still visibly dampened but still styled. You let your tongue swipe over your bottom lip whilst keeping eye contact with him seeing his adam-apple bobble as he swallowed.

"Are you drunk?" he questioned making you chuckle "Nah" you grinned, standing up from the leant back position and downing the remainants of your drink before walking past him, grabbing his arm on the way and pulling him out on the floor.

You began dancing in front of his hungry eyes, the alcohol giving you a lot of confidence. He was as tipsy as you were soon joining you by grabbing your hips, looking intently into your eyes as you smirked, grinding into him more and more for every song.

The heat between you was too much, you couldn't miss it and you couldn't miss the way you felt his hardness through his jeans nor the way he did not so subtle ground into your ass every chance he got.

"I would ask you to go home with me but i'm sleeping at a friends" he revealed making you pout your lips in thought. You couldn't take him home to Jack's, not a chance but you couldn't not fuck him either. Your need for him was too much.

Your eyes lit up as you came up with a solution, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bathroom.

He chuckled as you locked the door to one of them. "Really?" he laughed, "Well if you don't wanna fuck me-"

He shut you up by kissing you. His lips hungrily meet yours in a mess of teeth and tongue. You knew it was gonna be a messy and hurried fuck but it was all you needed right now. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your figure and feeling you up desperately.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at it slightly as he let out small breathy noises at the contact. Your hands traveled under his t-shirt groaning as you felt his abs under your fingertips.

He broke the kiss only to tug his t-shirt over his head, his hands pushing up your own hoodie to grasp at your breasts. He walked you backwards, hoisting you up on the counter, your head leaning against the mirror as he hungrily kissed up your neck and over your jaw. "You're so sexy" he grunted, leaving a trail of kisses down your throat and up to your jaw again, kissing you hungrily.

You were the one who broke the kiss, grasping at his jeans to hurry things up a little. Let's face it, you were in a public bathroom.

"Okay okay" he chuckled, undoing your pants first before chucking them down your legs and letting them pool on the floor.

His hand moved like on instinct to your pussy, rubbing your clit over the flimsy material. You groaned, tilting your head back, closing your eyes in content. Finally getting what you wanted.

"Hm, that feels good?" he hummed, tone almost lingering on mocking. "Mhm" you moaned, looking at him with warning eyes which he just waved off with a chuckle. You were just about to say something when he gripped your underwear, pulling them off and throwing them next to your jeans.

His fingers created path between your fold, going up and down before two of them slid inside of you. You bit your lip to prevent the moan as he slowly started to move them, hooking them slowly and teasingly against your spot.

"Oh fuck" you groaned, breathing heavily against his ear and eyes threatening to close of pleasure.

Your hand made its way to his jeans, unbuttoning the button and pushing your hand down inside, palming his already hard dick through his boxers. He breathed out a heavy breath, eyelids getting heavy at the relief.

You pushed his underwear off as far as necessary and continued to stroke him, finding it satisfactory how he looked and breathed when you did. He however soon found it necessary to stop you before he would be cumming in your hand.

"Okay, okay" he breathed, pushing your hand away from him. He continued to flick his fingers inside of you a few more times before pulling them out. He pushed the digits into his mouth making you moan at the sight.

He pulled his digits out, chuckling at your reaction with gleeful eyes. His fingers softly brushed a couple of hair strands out of your face as his lips met yours again, this time much softer but still hungry and needy.

You lifted your hips slightly, hurrying him up. He got your signal, grabbing your hips while guiding himself to your opening just as eager as you were.

You couldn't help the moan that left your throat as he pushed in slowly. Your head fell back as your eyes fell closed at the stretch.

"Fuck" you breathed, gripping the edge of the counter harshly, your hips moving on their own to ger yourself used to the feeling of him.

He began slowly, easing you both into it. The alcohol making you both careless and needy, just wanting some sloppy club-bathroom sex.

He soon began to go faster, moving your hips to meet his thrusts, his dick hitting all the perfect spots inside of you with the position you were in. The pace getting more and more desperate for every thrust. "Ah fuck Mason" you groaned, trying to keep your eyes open to watch his reaction as he continued to thrust.

His eyes sparkled in the dim light and his mouth was half-open. Small pants coming out whenever he bottomed out inside of you. He watched your body move, watching how his dick repeatably disappeared inside of you, he watched as your breasts moved and how you bit your lip to not let out the loud moans you had on your tongue.

"Yeah? Feel good?" he hummed, looking cocky at your reactions to his actions. You nodded, not having the energy to put him in his place right now. "Yeah?" he pressed making you roll your eyes "Just shut up and fuck me" you grunted not missing the cocky smile he gave you as he picked up his speed further, thrusting harder into you.

The sound of your skin meeting was loud and you were almost scared someone would hear from outside of the bathroom. You tried to keep your moans in, biting your lip and when it became too much you leaned forward, bracing yourself on his shoulder as you bit the skin where his shoulder and neck met. He let out a slight whine at the mark only speeding up his movements.

"I'm close" he grunted, giving you a heads up. You nodded, kissing up his shoulder and neck while you let one of your hands move between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. You could feel it building in your lower stomach, on the edge of bursting already. Your head felt dizzy and your eyes rolled at the extra stimulation.

"I'm gonna cum" you warned, rutting your hips against him as he groaned, silencing both of you with a kiss, each of you swallowing the others moans as you came down from your highs. You felt almost high, your eyes squeezing close and a lazy smile on your face. You could feel his legs and tummy clench as he came inside of you. Only then did it occur to you that you hadn't used a condom.

Mason seemed to realize the same thing, looking at you and blinking slowly "Did I just cum inside of you?"

You chuckled, leaning your head back against the mirror "It seems like it"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry-"

"I am on the pill, it should be fine" you dismissed, patting his shoulder reassuringly whilst he nodded at you, relief filling his eyes.

He slowly moved to slip out of you resting his forehead on your shoulder while you both tried to regain your breaths. "Maybe we should get out of here" you whispered, letting your lips ghost over his.

He nodded, meeting your eyes with a sweet smile before kissing you slowly, his tongue sweetly intertwining with yours.

When you parted you reached out to grab some paper towels from beside you, cleaning yourself up as he did the same.

He handed you your clothes and you quickly fixed yourself up, untangling your hair with your fingers before you nodded at him.

You stood up from the counter, buttoning your jeans before unlocking the door.

You stopped in your tracks seeing Jack casually leaned back against the wall as if he was waiting for you "Hey, there ya are, I thought you had drunken too much" he grinned

"I-uh" you stuttered, wincing as you felt Mason press into your back, his face snapping up as he saw that you were talking to someone.

Jack's mouth fell open, eyes fleeting between the two of you before he opened his mouth

"Hey! We said no teammates!" he exclaimed, looking at you accusingly.

"He is not your teammate!" You defended looking stroppily at him

"Yes he is!" "What, no he is in Chelsea!" You uttered in confusion. "England y/n, he is in England" Jack spoke calmly, his voice flat as he looked at you.

"Oh fuck"

#footballer imagine #footballer fanfiction #footballer fanfic #england nt #mason mount #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagines #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfiction #jack grealish #jack grealish fluff #jack grealish imagine

[blueaetherr]

just a thought

pairing: mason mount x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): none

summary: the one where the maid and man of honour talk about the future prospects regarding their relationship

author's note: last one for while 'cause of exams (as if i don't already post irregularly :/), but anyways, enjoy!

Managing the wedding of your friends was definitely a task, especially if it's your first time and you are just one or two people. And as the maid and man of honour, Y/N and Mason had to come to learn that over the last few days.

There was more to learn than anticipated by the pair. It wasn't simply just being paired together as a bridesmaid or groomsman or being the right-hand person for the bride and groom; there was so much to those roles. It was providing emotional support the night before, making sure the wedding wouldn't collapse last minute, advising the bridesmaids and the groomsmen to always act accordingly, being the adults amongst the adults and probably much more.

And when you put all of that together, it was, of course, exhausting and challenging for two people, taking more than enough voice and strength and tolerance. Being the voice of reason for those solvable problems, being the spontaneous therapist moments before the wedding ceremony—they weren't for the weak, one needed strength beyond the physical one to manage well.

But it was okay. 'Cause when it was all said and done—the pre-wedding celebrations, the downtime the night before, the mini breakdowns and moments of doubt before the ceremony—there was the wedding ceremony, and it was wonderful. The bride, the husband, the family and friends and the culture embedded into every last detail of the event, from the decorations to the attires worn by everyone. When you get a result like that, there was no reason to allow any negativity to persevere during a happy moment.

As the day passed quickly, so did the wedding celebrations, from the ceremony and the pictures all the way to the reception that continued well into the night; when Mason and Y/N were finally able to find one another again.

Sitting by the private beach, it was a mellow environment they were given—a nice sight to witness, one easy to picture even with your eyes close. Comfortable with their place in the sand, appropriately loud music from the venue further up to the beach, waves kindly sliding over and under one another, the laughter of kids playing close by the shore accompanied by older siblings acting as babysitters and vibrant and solace everywhere you chose to look.

Mason knocked his knee against her own. "How have you been?"

Upon arriving at the wedding destination, the bridesmaids and the groomsmen were immediately split so they hadn't had much time together. Of course, Mason and Y/N had been seeing each other through the days, passing one another during wedding rehearsals or while passing on messages for the newly-wed couple when they weren't allowed to see each other. Other than that, their reasons for seeing one another wasn't actually rooted in seeing one another; either it was out of coincidence or for the purpose of the wedding.

Y/N swayed her head as she sat up, humming. "How was my day?" She had to say the question out loud to think. All of her thoughts were still fixed to be centred around the bride and her needs. She hadn't really had the time to focus on her own self, to process her own state of mind. "It was... it was really good."

"Is that so?" A smirk began to form across Mason's face. "I'm hearing you ladies went crazy with the bachelorette party, and a certain someone went even crazier. I didn't get any names but I'm gonna assume—

Y/N shoved Mason into the sand, causing him to let a laugh. "And that's how it's gonna stay: an assumption."

Mason took in a deep breath as he sat up, still letting out some of his laughter. "You don't have to hide it, love. I know you well," he picked up the bridal bouquet from the sand, the ever one his girlfriend had caught a little under an hour ago. "I mean, c'mon. We all saw. I even recorded it if you don't remember."

"And I had fun with it, Mason."

"And you had fun with it, of course," he kissed her cheek before offering the bridal bouquet, "that's all that matters."

Without hesitation, Y/N took the bouquet in her hands. She attempted to appear nonchalant about it, trying to observe the flowers in an unbothered manner. Though as soon as they were fully in her grasp, she couldn't help but smile shyly as she let her eyes admire the bundle of flowers, twirling them between her hands in delight and excitement.

And that—her happiness—quickly became Mason's happiness. Not only for the flowers' positive impact on Y/N's mood but also it got Mason wondering and thinking about various things surrounding, well, him and Y/N.

"Does it ever get you thinking about certain things..." Mason played with the sand, "being a maid of honour and all?"

"Thinking about what?" Though as soon as she lifted her eyes, she noticed his eyes on the flowers and then it all came to her. That thing we called marriage. "Oh... about that?"

"Yeah, I guess," Mason shrugged. He wished he could've introduced the conversation a little better. 'Cause it was far too awkward and strained for a topic that required mature adults to be handled with fluency.

"I don't know... Like what?" Y/N, like her partner, was lost in the conversation; lost in what she should say, lost in what about the topic would be discussed, lost in where the conversation would be going 'cause really, it could go in almost any direction.

"Anything. I guess just anything about us in the future," Mason rubbed his palms against his shorts as he inhaled a long breath. "I always wonder, like, if we do stay together and persevere, what will things for us be like? Where will we live? How will our relationship change for the better or worse? How many kids will we—"

Y/N quickly raised her hand, placing it on Mason's shoulder. "Woah, woah, woah, relax there," she said with widened eyes. Suddenly, she was more in tune with the conversation than the last few minutes. "Maybe we're thinking a bit too far into the future."

"Yeah, that was a bit sudden." Mason let himself think for a moment, his eyes wondering on the young kids passing by. "Let me ask a better question: what would you like our wedding to be like?"

"Our wedding? I mean I don't know." And yet all the words would eventually come to her so easily, without much thought. "Something small and nice... like enough for family and friends, but not enough that everyone everyone gotta be there. Maybe somewhere close to home, a cosy picturesque location, you know? Just a place where we could also spend our honeymoon in peace, adventure small towns and villages, and maybe some historical places," Y/N leaned back in her place a bit, "But yeah... that's just me."

"That's the whole point, Y/N. It's your wedding," Mason chuckled as he pulled his girlfriend close to him, "You're supposed to do and have whatever you want."

"I know," she exhaled, too joining with the laughter, one they both found restoring and soothing. It wasn't enough to counter all the stress from the past week, but enough to relax into the conversation just a bit more. "I just didn't anticipate this conversation tonight." Y/N really didn't. After managing the wedding of her friends over the last few weeks, she hadn't really had much time to stop and wonder about her relationship's future and outlook. She turned to Mason and wondered, "What about you? It wouldn't just be my wedding."

"I don't really have anything in mind to be honest. Besides, if it ever comes to it, you know, getting married 'n all—which we will—it doesn't matter what we have or where we are. Luxurious wedding, getting eloped—the part where you say I do is more than enough for me."

Surrounded by vibrant colours and a lovely, mellow environment, the couple turned to one another and found themselves smiling galore at each other, exchanging a lack of words as they observed one another, heads tilted in wonder. In those gazes—in their eyes—there was admiration and happiness and affection that were all genuine and bracing to experience together.

In truth, there was this admiration and happiness and affection because there was a lot of conviction in their words towards the other. And considering their minds for the last few days have been racing for their friends' relationship, it was refreshing to talk about their own. On a day when nothing seemed to be about them, it was nice to dedicate a small moment to themselves.

#mason mount #mason mount imagines #mason mount oneshots #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount x reader #mason mount x black!reader #black!reader #football imagines #football imagine #football fluff #football oneshot #football blurbs #football fanfiction

[football-and-fanfics]

Intimidated - Mason Mount

Who: Mason Mount Prompt: "That's bullshit." Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of intimidating crowd, threats, angst.

It was your first time attending one of Mason's matches since he had made his transfer to Manchester United. You had never been to Old Trafford before, so you were looking forward to getting to know the place.

It was an enjoyable afternoon. Manchester United won easily, with Mason playing a good match and even providing an assist. You were about to leave after the match, when a small group of other attendants recognized you as Mason's girlfriend and started giving you shit for it.

The group of young men came way too close to you for comfort, very much invading your personal space. They didn't touch you, but you felt threatened all the same at being outnumbered by so many. Their hissed comments of you being ugly and dumb, made you tremble with fear.

Luckily, one of the stadium's security guards quickly caught on to the situation and intervened, guiding you away from the group and inside.

"Are you alright, miss?" The guard asked once you were safely back inside, handing you a glass of water and offering you a seat. You nodded weakly, but were still trembling with fear. "Would you like me to fetch Mr. Mount?" The guard clearly knew who you were, too. "Yes, please," you answered meekly.

It was only a few minutes later, when Mason rushed in and dropped to his knees in front of where you sat. "Are you alright?" He took your hands in his and you heard the panic in his voice. "Did they hurt you?" "No." You shook your head, although tears now spilled from your eyes. Mason sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god. They told me you had a run-in with a crowd and I thought you were injured." "It was just words." Your voice broke a little. "They were going on about how I'm dumb and ugly." "That's bullshit!" Mason immediately replied. "I know, but..." You sniffled softly. "I was scared."

"Come here." Mason spread his arms and invited you into a hug. You didn't need asking twice and flung yourself into his arms.

Mason wrapped his arms firmly around you, and finally you felt safe and at ease again. Because with his strong arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours, and his softly whispered words of comfort in your ear, you knew nothing could hurt you anymore.

Tags: @stonesyyyy, @footballffbarbiex, @football1921, @laurasstufff1, @juliabrghs, @ella33

Request an imagine | Add me to the tags list Mason Mount imagine | General masterlist

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #footballandfanficsmasonmount

[oh-saints]

sweetest devotion - masterlist

when chelsea's resident flamboyant playboy woke up to find himself tangled with a beautiful woman in his bed, being tangled in a royal scandal was the last thing on his mind. now he has to deal with the consequences of his actions, but is it really "consequences" when he finds himself liking them?

a mini series featuring mason mount the playboy and a princess OC

this series includes: marriage of convenience, pregnancy out of wedlock, forced proximity, toxic relationship (but not between the MCs), violence (mildly), a bit of smut and a lot of angst

inspired by adele's sweetest devotion.

status: on-going

prologue

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9 [coming in next week!]

part 10*

epilogue

[updated per 31/12 that it's still going and the upcoming chapter's dropping by the weekend!]

(*planned as of 01/5 but subject to change)

#mason mount #mason mount fic #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfics #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount drabble #mason mount drabbles #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #mason mount smut #mason mount series

[judebelle]

can we get a mason smut ? They do the deed in public . Fluff at the end

- 🍑

discreet - m.m. x reader

a/n : i made this into a drabble bc im so busy but i reallyyyyy wanna write esp for this req so here it is!!

cw : smutty, public sex, swearing, unprotected

pairing : mason mount x fem!reader

wc: 600

---

you and your boyfriend were sitting in the crowded club, the whole chelsea squad there amongst other world class players since this club was the hot-spot for professional footballers and models. you two were seated on the otherwise empty couch in the back. the air humid and stuffy, filled with the smell of alcohol and weed. the dim colored lights were calm compared to the loud rap music that blasted in your ears.

your head was pounding from both the drinks you had had and the loud music and synchronized chanting. mason had his arm around your waist while you were sat on his lap, back facing him, your short dress hiking up your thighs. you two were having a flirty conversation, although you weren't keeping track of the topic since you were very tipsy, and you could feel mason's large and warm hands grazing the sides of your thighs.

"you look so sexy tonight, darling." mason whispered in your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe. something about the octave of his voice tonight made your back arch into his chest and hips dig into his dick.

"so do something about it."

that was all it took for mason to shoot a quick glance around the room before realizing that everyone was way to invested in themselves to see what you two were doing in the corner of the club. he removed his designer jacket and laid it over the front of your thighs just in case. he pulled up your dress just so that he got access to your ass, moving your thong over to the side before giving you a subtle but harsh slap on your ass, making you yelp quietly before giggling softly.

the red mark that mason left on your ass got him even more horny as he pulled himself out of his jeans and boxers, spitting on his hand and spreading it over your hole. you quickly readied yourself knowing that mason wouldn't warn you before slipping into you. turns out you were right as you felt your walls stretching and splitting. mason bottomed out inside you, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips.

you tried to stop the long throaty moan that was about to leave your lips, whimpering softly instead. mason gave you a kiss on your shoulder beside your thin dress strap before he raised your hips subtlety, pulling them back down onto his cock. he increased his pace while he breathed softly in your ear.

"so good for me- fuck." he groaned softly. your eyes fluttered closed as your hands slid down to hold his jacket in place on your hips even though you couldn't care less if it slipped off. you wanted to let everyone know what mason was doing to you in such a public setting. you were all his.

mason moved your hips faster and faster, switching from bouncing them to grinding them on his dick. you felt his cock rub up on your walls, your quiet moans drowned out by the loud music.

mason panted and grunted in your ear as his fluffy and light hair fell over his shut eyes. your hands clenched into fists over his jacket, the pleasure taking over you. you felt him hit that angle in your gut, making your teeth clench. "mason.. i'm close.".

that seemed to have reminded him that he wasn't even wearing a condom, too caught up in the heat of the moment. "shit baby- i'm not wearing a condom. we need to stop before i cum." mason grunted, his breath hitching as he moved one of his hands to your clit, trying to get you to cum faster.

"just cum in me mase."

mason swore he was dreaming. he was about to ask you to pinch him. he didn't even ask twice before moving his hips while moving yours, his long fingers rubbing your clit. before you knew it, you felt a heat in your stomach, pleasure filling your bones as you leaned your head back and came, hissing and groaning right below his ear.

you unknowingly clenched around mason's cock, making his breath hitch. his nails jabbed into your skin as he lowered his head down to your shoulder. he bit down trying to stifle his moans. the bite made your ass dig into his hips as he came. hard. you felt a sensation you had never felt before. his warm cum filled you as you shut your eyes.

the feeling was different and sensual, making you grin hazily. mason quickly pulled out and slid your thong back on and dress down before he put his cock back into his pants. he gave you a peck on the cheek before chuckling.

"d'ya think anyone saw us?"

#mason mount #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut x reader #fem!reader #mason mount x fem!reader #mason mount smut x fem!reader #mason mount drabble #mason mount drabble x reader #mason mount drabble x fem!reader #mason mount smut drabble #mason mount smut drabble x fem!reader #mason mount smut drabble x reader #mason mount fanfic #mason mount smut fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #mason mount smut fanfiction #mason mount x you #football drabble #football imagine #football smut #football x you #football x reader #football drabble x reader #football smut x reader #football smut drabble x reader #football fanfic #football fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

[landoncrris]

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

forgotten - mason mount x reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN // MASTERLIST

word count: 2.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s with you?”

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

“Where are you going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, for which I thought was tomorrow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, that wasn’t what I meant,”

“It’s fine, I—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kepamount]

let me love you

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

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

word count: 10.4k+

rating: M

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[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

[upindreamland]

Hard Launch - Mason Mount & Twin!Brother Phil Foden

boyfriend!mason mount x fem!reader x twin!brother phil foden

Summary: It’s your birthday and what better way to celebrate then to tell the whole world about the person who makes you the happiest.

Warnings: None

AN: In honor of Phil Foden’s birthday I made this cute little instagram imagine. I hope you enjoy!

--------------------------

yn_foden

Liked by philfoden, masonmount, jackgrealish, user_1, and 378,200 others

yn_foden: happy birthday to my number 1 since the womb! Phil thanks for being the best big brother (even though it’s only by 5 minutes). It’s been an amazing ride with you. It’s been an honor watching you grow and accomplish all these things we talked about when we were younger. I love you so much

philfoden: Dang who is that fine young lad? 

↳ yn_foden: definitely not you 😊

philfoden: I love you too little sister. I can’t believe you’ve grown up so quickly

↳ yn_foden: 🙄 we’re the same age Phillip. 

mancityfan: Young Phil was so cute. Thank you Y/N for posting these!

↳ yn_foden: anytime

england: happy birthday to our favorite set of twins!! 

jackgrealish: HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N (my favorite Foden)

↳ yn_foden: jackgrealish thank you Jackyboy 

↳ philfoden: jackgrealish HEY! what about me??

↳ jackgrealish: philfoden you didn't let me have a piece of cake

↳ philfoden: jackgrealish ohh whatever

masonmount: can’t wait to celebrate 🎉 ❤️

↳ masonfan: masonmount a red heart???? What the heck

↳ yn_foden: masonmount ❤️❤️❤️

↳ philfoden: yn_foden OMG IS IT HAPPENING

↳ yn_foden: philfoden SHHHHHHH

↳ masonfan: philfoden i think I might pass out

mancity: That last picture though 💙. Happy birthday Y/N and Phil!!

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yn_foden

Liked by masonmount, judebellingham, phildoen, randomuser, and 489,700 others

yn_foden: life recently! ft. my birthday. 

Thank you all for the birthday wishes I appreciate them all 🫶

tagged: masonmount

user_2: WHAT THE FUCK. THEY'RE DATING??

masonmount: I love you Y/N

↳ yn_foden: I love you too Mason. Thank you for making me the happiest girl ever 

↳ masonfan: masonmount  dang he’s really off the market 

user_3: This was definitely not on my bingo card 

philfoden: FINALLY!!!! It’s only taken 2 years to post this!!

↳ yn_foden: oh shut up

↳ fan_1: 2 YEARS?? They’ve been together for 2 years and we didn’t even know 

philfoden: ALSO, why that picture Y/N?? You promised to never show it again 

↳ randomuser: I know what my new profile picture is going to be now 

↳ yn_foden: randomuser DO IT!!!!

jackgrealish: cutest couple ever!! Please just keep the PDA down now that you’re public 

↳ masonmount: jackgrealish no promises 😏

judebellinghman: MY PARENTS. I love you guys

↳ yn_foden: judebellinghman my favorite son! Thanks for the birthday present btw

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---------------------------------

AN: That's it! I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to come talk to me or request something. Feedback is always appreciated

#upindreamlandfile #mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfiction #phil foden #mason mount instagram au #phil foden instagram au #instagram imagine #mason mount instagram imagine #phil foden fluff #brother phil foden #boyfriend!mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #boyfriend mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount fanfic #chelsea football club #man city #mason mount fan #phil foden fan #mason mount x y/n #mason mount blurb #phil foden imagine #phil foden x reader #mason mount concept #mason mount story #phil foden one shot

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱

Mason Mount x reader

Word count: 3,1k

Summary: Toxic friend and hot boyfriend, maybe an opportunity for some revenge

Warnings: Angst, mentions of toxic friend and partner, smut!

Notes: So long since I updated so, sorry for that. This may contain a lot of wrongs because I haven't really proofread it. So the smut is now time and all the others are in the past, flashback ish. Hope it makes sense.

Was it wrong? Probably yeah it was. But it didn't feel wrong when his lips met yours or when he touched you, no it felt fucking right.

You knew she would freak out if she saw you right now, probably scream and make a scene of what a shitty friend you were but that only made it feel even better. Knowing you pissed her off and got her back for all she'd done to you filled you with satisfaction.

It wasn't all about him but he knew that, you knew it wasn't all about you either. This was a source of revenge with a hint of built up tension.

You moaned as his lips traveled down your collarbone and chest, messy and needy. It was all a hot mess but you loved it, your arms hanging around his shoulders, fingers tickling his neck and combing through his hair as his lips wandered over you.

You and your friends had rented an airbnb in Greece for the summer, planning a well needed rest in a relaxing environment for a couple of weeks. The five people in your friend group, two external friends and five of their partners created a quite large group but that was common on your annual summer vacations. As long as everyone was nice and had a good vibe you didn't care.

There was only one creating tension, your childhood friend but there was nothing new with that. Everybody in the group knew her and her behaviors. It was just how she was, how she behaved and what she thought was cute. A real pick-me was what she was and a huge asshole at that. She never considered other peoples feelings or thoughts and not once letting somebody elses needs go before hers. In her world she was the queen and if anybody went up against her chaos broke out.

This had been the story since you were both five but it wasn't until adult-life you had understood how toxic it was and how much she was manipulating and changing you. But even with the knowledge she was still in your life.

This summer she had asked her boyfriend to tag along. He was the hot topic in your group as she always seemed to pick guys similar to herself, assholes.

But this time it was different. She had been bragging about him for as long as you could think of but for the first time she wasn't all talk. He was a footballer, something she never shut up about because apparently that was really important for everyone to know. She chatted holes in your head about how hot he was and how good he was in bed, you knew way too much without even having met the guy.

Your expectations were down the ground when you met him for the first time, expecting him to be rude or whatever but he completely floored you. He wasn't anything like her, he was sweet and funny, caring and soft. He was also unbelievably good looking, your eyes sticking to him way too often. The only question you had was how in the world she had gotten a guy like that. Someone who wasn't only way out of her league look-wise but also someone who was way too good for her. He was cheeky and flirtatious for sure but it wasn't her usual guy and it sparked something.

He made you feel like you skin was on fire. Fingertips leaving a trail of heat as they wandered down your body. You were on his bed now, his kisses making your head tilt back as he nipped at the sensitive skin. You couldn't recall the last time you'd felt this hot, like you were burning up but in a very pleasant way.

When his fingers reached the hem of your underwear you could no longer control the soft whines that left your mouth. The timid looking guy who had been so shamefully sweet and gentle was completely gone as he chuckled at you laying there, needy and whiny. He held a smirk on his face that told you everything you needed to know.

His face hovered over yours as he teased your clit carefully, almost mocking your needy state as his fingers just barely touched you before drawing away. It was such a risky thing to do, in a house filled with all of your friends and maybe also her. Yet here you were, letting him touch you in such an intimate way with no remorse.

The first couple of days were fine, Mason came into the group perfectly and she was suddenly more pleasant to be around whenever he was there. You didn't know if she honestly liked him or if he was just too attractive to give up but something made her stick around so far, something she usually never did. But again, he was something different.

It was one week in when you could see the usual pattern begin with her. The avoiding, icing and searching for validation started but Mason didn't seem to care. He held a nice smile on his face and searched for more company with you and the others instead which nobody had a problem with, well except from her of course. She was the one who should take distance and not the other way around. So the more he was with you and the others the more annoying she got, starting shit against him and you all for every small thing possible.

-

"What?" she snarled in a monotone voice

You shrugged, not really doing anything to deserve the tone she was giving you from where she sat in the arm-chair with a grouchy look.

"You have something to tell me?" she scoffed at your nonchalant shrug, wanting more than that from you.

"No? What would that be?" you tiredly asked. She had been a real bitch the last couple of days, constantly nagging every single one of you, remarking and claiming something. You were still annoyed over how she acted last night towards Mason having had a go at him for sitting on the sofa with you and one of your other friends. The shaming was completely uncalled for and the poor guy had looked extremely uncomfortable as she cussed him out.

"Uh, oh I don't know" she sarcastically exclaimed, holding her hand in front of her mouth dramatically. "Maybe that you fancy Mason!"

You could't help the laughter that escaped your mouth at her words "I'm what?"

"You totally like him y/n, I don't get how you could do this to me" Shaking your head was the only thing you could do "I don't fancy anyone!"

"Then explain last night" she huffed stubbornly, folding her arms over her chest stubbornly. "What to explain? You were a complete bitch and I just defended the poor guy when you treated him like complete shit and it was completely uncalled for!"

"Oh stop it, I did not treat him like shit and I had every right to call him out"

A scoff left your mouth "It was not right, he didn't even do shit just sat down in a sofa"

She clicked her tongue in annoyance but letting it go at that unfolding her arms again as she looked at you "Sorry I just actually like this guy and the way you were behaving was just not okay" Steam was basically blowing from your ear as you swallowed thickly, telling yourself to let it go but fuck if you didn't wanna scream at her face.

Instead for shouting and slapping her you changed the subject "you actually like him?"

A shrug painted her expression "like and like, I mean he is extremely attractive and the sex is so so good"

Eyes rolling you left the room, having to unless she wanted a fist in her jaw. Of course she was only attracted to him.

His long sleek fingers picked up their pace, two sliding in and out of you whilst his thumb stroke your clit in small precise circles. You were close, so so terribly close, just lingering on the edge and you envied her for getting this for the last month. Suddenly it made sense as to why she had stuck around him. He was just that good, but of course he was much more than sex.

A cry tickled your tongue, the aware part of your being begging him to stop you from screaming out loud from the brewing orgasm that was just just there.

"Fuck Mason"

He still held that stupid smug smirk all over his face and he looked so proud and cocky. "Hmm, does that feel good?" he hummed, tilting his head mockingly as you nodded frantically, silently asking him not to stop.

"This turns you on, dosen't it. Knowing that we could so easily be heard and caught huh? You love it" No coherent words left your mouth as he pushed you over the edge. It was euphoric, eyes squeezed closed, teeth biting down on his shoulder to keep quite.

He grinned at you as he helped you ride out your orgasm, his hand rubbing your hip gently as you collapsed in his sheets.

"You are so much better than I thought" you sighed out with a content smile on you face as he kissed your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" you asked from your seat on the couch, tilting your head up to look at her as she gathered her stuff from the hall-bench. "Uh, I'm going out" she shrugged, dressing in her jacket and fixing up her hair.

"Uhh, okay? What about our plans then?" you questioned feeling astonished by her unbothered state. She pulled a face "You'll be fine without me" she waved you off "What about Mason, you gonna leave him here?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it "Well maybe it is a bit rude, don't you think? You invite him on a holiday with your friends he has never met before and then you leave him?" Her infamous eye-roll played in front of your eyes, her hand grasping her phone "He will survive, don't need to be so dramatic"

You shook your head as she walked out the door, slamming it behind her like a teenage kid. "Fucking stupid" you cursed out after her

"It's for the better"

You tilted your head back over the back of the couch, smiling as you saw Mason in the opening to the kitchen

"Hm?"

"I appreciate you standing up to her but it's for the better she goes huh?" Your eyebrows raised at him in amusement "Things not going too great?"

The sigh he let out told you enough, chuckling you patted the couch, signaling for him to come closer.

He did so without hesitation, a smile displaying on his face as he plumped down dramatically. "So, tell me. How did you find someone like her"

He shrugged "Party, she got onto me, I was horny, we fucked and then it was repeated. One night she asked me to go with you guys and I didn't have anything else planned so I thought why not"

"Well, I guess. Although I would say you're stupid for going with her without knowing her"

"Probably your right, I mean this trip is fantastic and there are all nice people but phew she is...a lot"

You smiled, leaning back into the couch and tucking your legs underneath you "tell me about it"

He had you on your back, his dick filing you and making you feel fuzzy. His eyes glazed over as he leaned over you, prompting you to wrap your arms around his shoulders as he never let up his pace.

His hot breath fanned your face, small sounds leaving his lips as he started to get close.

"Fuck" you whined as his thumb traveled down your body and started to rub your sensitive clit. It was too much and too little at the same time, your orgasm crawling closer and closer before it snapped.

You were happy, content as you sat in the restaurant chair looking out on the cozy street. It was your fifteenth day here and things felt good, the group was great and it was a lot of fun and relaxing, just what you needed for the summer.

Mason really had came into the group great, everybody liking him and asking him to tag along since she didn't exactly try with him anymore.

It was light chatter, laughs and drinks in the afternoon lightning, it all made you feel like a teenager again. Summer with friends when there were no big problems, it was all light and easy.

The food was nice and the weather pleasant. You were sat next to Mason and one of your other friends. She was sitting opposite Mason, chatting with your friend who sat next to her.

"How was your food?"

You smiled at him, pushing the plate towards him, prompting him to taste as you hadn't missed the eager look he had given your plate all evening.

He chuckled, dropping his head as he realized he had been caught "Come on, it's fine, taste" you giggled, smiling as he took a piece of the pasta you had ordered. "Fuck that is as good as it looks" he hummed in appreciation taking another spoonful of your food

"Your's isn't good?" you chuckled, raising your eyebrows "No no it is" he confirmed, smiling sheepishly.

Mason was easy to be with, easy to talk to and always funny to be around. He had spent a lot of time with you, talking about his family, his football and niece. Never a boring moment.

-

"Are you done flirting so we can go?" Her dry tone made everyone look up from what they were doing, sensing a storm coming to ruin the otherwise great evening.

You sighed, clicking your tongue in annoyance as she glared at you, her arms folded over her chest. "What" you huffed out, trying to not trigger her further.

"What do you mean what, you have been flirting with him all night. He came here with me, not you so I don't understand what you are doing"

A dry chuckle escaped your lips, your body lightning up with annoyance and underlying anger. "Okay, well what if I was flirting with him, what difference would it make?" "You know he came here as my guest, he is with me"

"Yeah I know that but I didn't feel like it was a big deal since you've pretended that he didn't exist this past week"

"Oh shut up I have not you're just so fucking jealous, aren't you? Can't even let me have him" You shook your head "Let you have him, do you even hear yourself? You treated him like fucking shit and I can't even talk to him?"

"Stop acting like you're better than me all the fucking time, you're not!"

You pursed your lips, referring from screaming and making a scene in the restaurant. After this trip you would cut her off for good. At least that's what you wanted but it was also what you'd wanted to do for the past five years but somehow, somehow she always managed to claw you back to her possession.

Mason looked pretty uncomfortable as he sat looking down at the table, not knowing what to say or do in the whole ordeal.

"All I'm doing is talking to him and making him feel okay in the group, that's all and that's more than what I can say about you"

"Stop the bullshit y/n, you have heart-eyes for him, practically begging him to sleep with you"

You scoffed shaking your head feeling incredolous, not knowing what to do.

"You know what, fuck you" you spat, pushing yourself up from the chair and walking off.

You walked back to the villa, still fuming with anger and rage quickly discarding your shoes and taking a moment to just scream, let all frustrations out. You changed to your pj's before walking out to the terrace to cool down.

It wasn't even fifteen minutes until you heard someone enter the villa, knowing who it was before he even found you outside.

"Hey, you ok?" Mason smiled sweetly, popping his head out through the door

You smiled softly at him "Yeah yeah, all fine"

He nodded, walking to you on the deck and sat down opposite to you "She is always like that with you huh?"

"Well always and always, not when she wants something from me" you spoke in an annoyed tone, pulling a face as he chuckled at you

"Why are you friends with her then?"

You laughed, dropping your head back "I am not really but it's just... complicated"

Mason nodded, he could understand it with being childhood friends and all so he didn't bug more about it.

"Well if it makes you feel better I don't mind you flirting with me"

You laughed out loud, leaning back on your hands on the tree deck. "I don't think I'm flirting that hard"

"Nah not that hard but i'm just saying I wouldn't mind it"

"You want me to flirt with you some more? Tell you how pretty you are and how much I want you?" you joked, grinning at him as he pursed his lips, nodding "wouldn't mind it"

You laughed again, tilting your head at him as silence settled in the warmth of Greece.

There was tension in the air, hovering over you both as you sat there, simply looking at each other before Mason took the first step. "If i'm completely out of line here and misjudged the situation you're allowed to slap me" he smiled as he came forward, slowly meeting his lips with yours as you giggled at him, welcoming his lips greedily.

"I mean I know this was about revenge, but fuck me" he sighed stretching his body out on his bed, tilting his head back to look at you who sat against the headboard, you knee tucked up into your chest and a content smile on your face.

"It wasn't all about revenge" you smiled, feeling a warm feeling in your chest as he rested his head against your legs. "No?"

"No" you concluded, you weren't able to restrain yourself from running your fingers through his hair. His smile was dazzling, showing his perfect teeth and glimmering eyes. Convincing you that it truly wasn't all about revenge.

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount fanfic #mason mount fanfiction #footballer imagine #england nt #football imagine #mason mount angst #mason mount fluff #mason mount smut #mm19 #chelsea

[daydreamingleclerc]

dirty little lover - mason mount

summary: in which, mason meets your parents, and the good boy persona disappears once you’re alone in the bedroom.

warnings: dom!mason, sub!reader, choking, oral (m, f), spitting, cum play, unprotected sex, pet names (sir, kitten, daddy), vulgar language, breeding kink, i think that’s it.

thank you @trickyblues for the idea ily long time <3

requests are closed. this is a long one so i apologise but also i don’t <3 enjoy whores xx

“you don’t need to be so nervous, mason,” you smiled at him when he switched off the engine of his lamborghini, a flicker of panic in his eyes, “they’re just my parents.”

“they’re not just your parents,” he rubbed his palms against the grain of his jeans, “they’re your parents.”

a knot formed between your eyebrows at his words, and you watched as he giggled at your facial expression, “mason, that makes no sense.”

“no it does,” he frowned, “what i mean is they’re your parents, as in, the parents of the girl i love, i haven’t done this in so long, and i’m just worried they’ll-”

you cut him off, lips pressing against his softly to calm his nerves. your fingers rested on his stubbly cheek, tracing the hair prickling at your fingertips, and his hand cascaded through your hair, pulling you in closer by the back of the neck. his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, and when you pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, you both moaned.

“you’d better be careful,” he pulled away and raised an eyebrow, “i know we’re staying here tonight but don’t think i won’t punish you later.”

“sounds tempting,” you ignored his statement, running your fingers around the snatch of his jawline, kissing his lips, “do you not think we should try it out?”

“do we have to go inside? can’t we just stay like this?”

he ignored you now, rolling his eyes and jabbing your rib cage. your fingertips tickled at the back of his neck, stroking against the short, thin hairs at its nape. over his shoulder, you could see your parents — or rather, your dad — poking his head through the blinds. at first, it was just to get a look at mason’s car, but then you caught his raised eyebrow and you abruptly glanced back at your boyfriend.

“okay, don’t wanna freak you out,” you pressed your forehead against his, “but my dad just watched us make out through the window.”

mason’s face dropped, and his forehead slid to the crook in your neck and he fumbled with his keys in his pocket, the doors unlocking on either side of you. “fuck sake, now he definitely hates me.”

“he hasn’t even met you yet,” you jabbed your boyfriends ribcage and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “cut the man some slack, mason.”

your fingers interlocked as he trailed slightly behind you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands for your mum, and a bottle of whiskey for your dad in a bag looped through his fingers. “he’s gonna make you drink that to make up for it, though.” you hummed, knocking on the door softly.

“fine by me,” he kissed your temple, and as the door handle moved, he shifted on his feet. your parents stood at the door, soft smiles on their faces.

“sorry, we’re a bit late,” you smiled, leaning towards them immediately and leaning in for a hug, mason’s fingers still looped through yours, “there was a crash on the motorway.”

“is crash on the motorway the secret meaning of snogging in the car?” your dad raised an eyebrow, his eyes darting between you and mason. your boyfriend’s cheeks went bright red, but your dad couldn’t help it when a laugh fell from his lips.

“you’re not funny, dad,” you jabbed your dad’s bicep, “but yeah, it can be that too i suppose.”

your dad smirked, and mason’s cheeks blushed as he tried to keep his composure and fight off every instinct to not bury his head in your neck. “i hope you don’t mind, but these are for you,” mason’s arm outstretched and he handed your parents their gifts, “Y/N told me they were your favourite flowers, and she also told me your favourite whiskey.”

your mum took the flowers in her hands, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders to say thank you, while your dad shook his hand and made a joke that mason wouldn’t be able to handle the alcohols strength.

“c’mon, mase, let’s put our stuff upstairs, yeah?”

“keep the door open, lovebirds,” your dad laughed, watching the pair of you as you walked up the stairs. “slim chance of that happening, eh?”

* “what’s this?”

“that?” you walked over to mason, who was making his way through your belongings on the shelf. he nodded, an arm snaking around your waist and pulling you in close, “you won’t believe me if i tell you.”

“try me.”

“when i was seven i won in a national spelling bee, that’s the evidence to prove it.”

mason’s face lit up then, his eyes twinkling as he looked across at you, a loose-lipped smirk on his face. his eyes danced across your face, until they landed on the spot he’d been itching to feel against his once more, and when your lips pressed together, it was hot.

his hand pulled you in closer, his dick now pressed up against your crotch, leaving a lump in your throat. he pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, desperate to get some sort of intimacy before dinner.

“so hard already, masey,” you cooed, bringing your hand down to his crotch and squeezing at the hardened flesh ever so carefully, a flicker in your eyes, “and i’ve barely even touched you.”

you caught his lips in yours, tongue slipping past his lower lip and exploring the inside of his mouth that tasted ever so faintly of his mint toothpaste. mason’s fingers trailed up your thighs, dipping under your skirt and trailing up your flesh.

“no underwear?”

you shook your head, and when he dragged a finger through your folds and circled your clit, you shivered. “such a dirty fuckin’ slut,” his fingertips slapped at your clit and a whimper left your mouth at the arousal coursing through your veins, “all for me, hm?”

you nodded, bringing your bottom lip between your teeth, but mason wasn’t satisfied with that. he grabbed your chin between his fingers, cheeks smushed between the tips, and his intimidation tactic turned you on far more than you’d cared to admit.

“i said, is it all for me?”

“y-yes, sir,” you choked out.

“good girl.”

his fingers traced your clit a few more times and you gripped at his bicep as he dipped a finger inside of you, curling it so perfectly it almost made you cry. your forehead rested against his shoulder, fingertips sneaking under his shirt and trailing the fine hairs on his abdomen leading down to his belt loops. 

“mason,” you squeaked when he added another finger, head lulling up and meeting his eyes, “please.” 

he smirked, lips pressing against your forehead as your hand fumbled with the button on his jeans, “please what, darling?” 

“please don’t stop,” you whimpered, pushing his jeans and boxers down his thighs just enough to spring his dick free, and your hand wrapped around it. the gasp that left his lips was like music to your ears, “please don’t stop.”

your hand worked on his dick, smearing the pre-cum around his tip and using it as lubrication. mason couldn’t help but groan, the only feeling that felt better than your hand around him was your mouth. his fingers worked inside of you faster now, thumb circling around your clit as he added a third finger, and you were unable to hold in your moans. the hand that was on your back now moved up to your throat, where he squeezed gently as he kissed you to swallow your noise, both of you unable to control it. 

mason pulled his fingers from your pussy and you whimpered, an irritated scowl on your face, however it soon dissipated when he got comfy on your bed and used ‘come hither’ motions with his fingers for you to get on top of him. you crawled to his thighs, but he shook his head. 

“higher, baby,” he ordered, and so you lined yourself up with his dick, but he shook his head again, “higher, Y/N,” he pinched your bum, “don’t make me tell you again.” 

you scooted your knees until you were hovering over his face, “here?” 

mason’s answer came in that of a hum, hands coming around your thighs as he forced your hips down, and immediately your hands gravitated to his hair. his tongue circled your clit, and you cried out almost immediately at the contact. “ssh, baby,” mason’s lips muttered against the innermost part of your thigh, “don’t want the house hearing how much of a dirty slut you are, do we?” 

you shook your head, and your hands pulled mason’s face back where you needed him the most, your hips rocking back and forth. the new angle of your hips meant you bumped the bridge of his nose with every drawback, and every time it left you fighting off a moan. 

the noises mason made were obscene, lapping you up like you were his last meal, the last thing he’d ever taste, and with every rock against the bridge of his nose your clit twitched and it made you bite down so hard on your bottom lip you feared you’d drawn blood. 

you could feel your orgasm approaching, hard and fast and you knew there would be no way for you to stop it. your fingertips tried to grip at mason’s hair, but now it was shorter there wasn’t much for you to hold onto. 

“mason ‘m-” 

“-are you two decent?” 

you froze at the sound of your dad’s voice, and the tap of his knuckles on your door. mason’s tongue didn’t stop, despite the fact you’d spun your head around to the locked door. “uh, n-not quite, dad,” you shouted back, “mason’s just changing, what’s up?” 

mason dipped his tongue inside of you, his hands splayed across your bum as he rocked you back and forth, and you fought every instinct within you, “dinner will be ready soon but we’ve got some drinks out for you both, so don’t be too long, okay?” 

“mhm,” you replied, a feeble noise deep down in your throat, “we’ll come down as soon as possible.” 

your dad’s footsteps retreated, and mason’s movements only got harsher, leaving you no time to be able to drop in a sarcastic comment. you brought one of your hands up to your mouth and bit down on your fingers, trying anything to muffle the sound of the scream that was inevitably going to tumble from your mouth. 

“fuck, mason, i’m gonna cum!” 

your boyfriend didn’t stop, wrapping his hands back around your thighs and pressing against the flesh to open you out more for him, and he looked up and watched as you fell apart on top of him. your orgasm rippled through you, sending shockwaves right down to your toes and it took you a minute to muster up the energy to pull yourself from mason’s grip. 

you collapsed onto the bed, watching your boyfriend as he sat up and wiped all traces of you from his mouth. he unzipped your bag, and from it pulled out a pair of underwear, “you might wanna wear these at dinner otherwise i’ll get ideas that’ll get me thrown out of your house.” 

*

mason was a tease, that much had always been painfully obvious, but when he sat up for hours with your dad long after dinner had ended, it made you frustrated. your mum had gone to bed just before you’d disapeared from the livingroom, an irritated scowl forming across your eyebrows as you watched your boyfriend smirking at you from across the room. 

“well well well, isn’t this a sight to behold,” mason taunted upon entering the room, his hands grabbing your hips and rubbing his crotch against your bum as you bent over to find your skincare from your bag. “all bent over and ready for me.” 

mason sensed your brattiness a mile away, and it was set in stone for him when you scoffed and clambered over to your side of the bed. he would’ve believed that you were genuinely irritated with him had it not have been for the smirk he could see in the reflection of the television, and because you wore your skimpiest and silkiest pair of pyjamas for him. 

“don’t tell me you’re being a brat already, Y/N,” he said, his left eyebrow raised ever so slightly, “you know i don’t have the patience for that.” 

“you should’ve fucked me when i gave you the chance after dinner then, shouldn’t you?” you asked, a raised eyebrow mimicking his expression, and he chuckled. 

“oh, so you really do want to be a brat tonight, don’t you?” mason asked, and he could see the flicker of a smirk flashing up on your face, and the twinkle in your eye which just made him chuckle again. “shame, i was gonna take it easy on you tonight, let you cum a few times, but you haven’t been a good girl so i’ll have to rethink.” 

your eyes were drawn to him - or rather, his dick - as he began undressing, and the hardened flesh made your mouth water. he wrapped his fingers around it, pumping himself gently so to tease you, and when you whimpered he knew he had you where he wanted you. 

“come here, Y/N, might as well let you suck me off seeing as you’re gagging for it,” he goaded, “besides, you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

you let out a whine, crawling towards mason on the bed until his hands braced around your hips and he lifted you from it, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as you manouvered through the small space. you pressed your lips to his, a pout emerging on your face when he didn’t kiss you back. 

“kiss me back, masey,” you mumbled softly, trying to get him to budge by leaving small kisses along his lips, but he didn’t. “mason, please, kiss me.” 

he smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you, and then he kissed back softly, a drastic difference to the atmosphere among you. your crotch rubbed against the zipper of his jeans, and you fought back a whimper with every hump you did, your clit already sensitive.

“stop acting like a bitch in heat,” he smushed your cheeks together between his fingers and you dropped to your feet, “if you’re gonna act like one then i’ll fuck you like one, but you’d probably like that, wouldn’t you kitten?” 

you nodded, words weren’t able to leave your mouth with mason’s hand still on your cheeks, and he smirked again. your hands moved eloquently to the zip of his jeans, leaving no time wasted, and your eyes stayed on his as he conjured spit into his mouth. your tongue sat open, and he watched as the spittle transferred from his mouth to yours, dribbling down the tip of your tongue onto your chin, and down the crevice of your boobs. 

you teased him, licking a stripe along the underside of his dick while pushing his jeans and boxers down his legs, swirling your tongue around his tip and gathering up the beads of pre-cum on the curve of your tongue, watching with innocent eyes as he scowled down at you. “i thought i told you i didn’t have the patience for bratty behaviour, Y/N,” he stated, a hand coming around your head to tug on your hair, “one more move like that and i won’t fuck you for a week.”

you knew better than to question him, especially when the mood was thick and tense like it was tonight, and you were far too pent up and horny to even think about not being fucked for that long. your lips instinctively wrapped around his dick, taking him as far down your throat as possible, and he watched with a twinkle in his eyes and a sultry smirk as you did so. when he hit the back of your throat and your nose hit his pubic bone, his mouth formed an O shape, the hand that was in your hair now bunching at it to keep you there. “fuck, you’re so fucking good at that,” he groaned, pulling your head back to let you get some air, “didn’t even have to ask, did i?”

you shook your head, before mason pushed it back to where it was, your nose brushing his skin. spit fell from your mouth and landed on the floor, and the noises of adjustment your throat made around his dick made it twitch.

“remember our safe word?” he pulled his dick from your mouth and watched as you heaved for air.

“tangerine,” you nodded.

“good girl,” he smiled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your mouth, “gonna let me do i what i want?”

“yes sir.”

he left another kiss to your lips before removing his hand from your hair and placing a hand either side of your face, his dick lining up with your tongue. you tilted your head back slightly so the friction of his dick sliding down your throat would feel better, and you watched as his face scrunched up in pleasure as his hips drew back and forth at a quickened pace. your throat contracted around his cock, with each drag back of your boyfriends hips causing spit to dribble from the corners of your mouth, his head constantly shifting between being thrown back and lurched forward watching you take all of him. 

“holy fuck,” he groaned, drawing his hips forward until your nose hit his pubic bone, “that’s it, take it like a dirty whore, Y/N,” his thumbs massaged your cheeks, and your eyes wandered up to meet his face, your breath short and sharp from your nose as you gagged and spluttered around his dick, “like my own personal porn star, aren’t you?” 

he released his dick from your mouth and you lurched forward heaving for breath, and he smirked at the effect his dick had on you - it stroked his ego. his hand wrapped into your hair and pulled your face up to look at him, and you stuck your tongue out and batted your eyelashes as you waited for him to get the hint and spit into your mouth. 

“such a whore aren’t you?” 

“yes, daddy,” you replied, and you watched as his body reacted to your words. his hand squeezed at your hair that little bit tighter, and he spat directly onto your tongue. you waited a moment, holding the spit proudly for him to see. “thank you, daddy.” 

you got straight back to work, your lips wrapping around his head, one hand massaging his balls while the other worked on what your lips couldn’t reach. “not gonna last much longer, kitten,” he purred, “wanna cum on your tongue, gonna let me do that?” 

you nodded as best you could, your head bobbing faster now with the news of a goal, and within seconds mason’s cum shot down your throat - “fuck, Y/N, holy fuck!” - and you obeyed his orders to keep it sat on your tongue. 

he pulled out of your mouth, his dick still hard and already prepping for fucking you, and he kneeled down in front of you so your faces were mere centimeters from one another. you outstretched your tongue so he could see the cum sitting prettily on it, and he clasped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. the sight of you in front of him, so desperate and willing made his dick twitch. he spat in your mouth and watched as the droplets of saliva interweaved with the white liquid on your tongue, and he couldn’t hold himself back anymore. his lips smashed against yours, and in turn you shared the mix of cum and saliva between you, mason’s moans into your mouth at the taste of himself on your tongue was a sound to behold. 

“gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you?” you nodded, barely able to form words. “get up on the bed then, kitten.” 

you clambered up onto the bed as if it was the last thing you would do, and your silk pyjama’s practically broke at mason’s hands. his lips - along with one hand - stimulated your nipples, while the other hand rubbed against your clit, middle finger circling in short motions that had you whimpering. his dick trailed along your entrance and it had you wiggling your hips. 

“stop fidgeting or else you won’t be getting fucked.” he taunted. 

you quickly obeyed him, hips stilling and waiting as patiently as possible. he left you there for a minute, his hands stimulating your nipples while his mouth moved up to yours. he pushed into you and began thrusting without giving you time to adjust, filling you up so well. 

his tongue slipped past your lips, and the two of you fucked while sharing saliva and the remnants of his cum on your tongue. “mason, fuck, please fuck me harder,” you cried out, wrapping a hand around his back and resting it against his shoulder blades, “please fuck me harder.” 

his hands moved from your nipples, one of them trailing up to your throat to stop you from making too many loud noises. “look at you, begging to be fucked like a slut when your parents are in the next room,” his words were mumbled against your jawline but you could still make out what he was saying, “you’re such a filthy girl, hm? my filthy girl.”

your back arched as he squeezed your throat harder, your free hand coming to rest against the banging headboard, which continued to thud dully against the wall. 

your wish was his command, though, as he wrapped a hand around your thigh and brought it up to use as leverage as he began fucking you harder, his dick pulling all the way out of you until all you could feel was the tip before he pushed back inside; the headboard almost slamming against the wall now. 

you were making feeble noises, squeaking every time he thrusted inside you, and he pressed his forehead to yours. “so noisy and desperate, aren’t you, sweetheart? and all because of my dick?” 

you cried out a strangled moan at his words, his fingers squeezing around the flesh on your neck to stop the noise from being loud, but it left you with a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. 

“fuck, mason, you’re fucking me so good,” you whined, throat strained, “so fuckin’ good, please don’t stop.” 

he continued to fuck you at an excruciating pace, a bead of sweat lining up between his eyebrows. he was moaning now too, his lips smashing against yours to silence the noises tumbling from his mouth. 

“oh, fuck, mason ‘m gonna-”

“-wait for me.” 

you weren’t sure if you could, the balloon inside of your stomach was bound sure to pop at any second and you weren’t sure you could hold off your orgasm to fit in time with his. his thrusts got sloppier and as you clenched around him, his dick twitched and you knew within seconds he would be cumming. 

“please, daddy, please can i...?” 

“yes, fuck yes.” 

your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your body went numb as you finally succumbed to your orgasm after what felt like hours, your lips falling open in an O shape as you came with a cry of mason’s name. he spilled himself inside of you, the feeling warming you up from the inside out, and you watched as his arms shook and he collapsed on top of you at his second orgasm of the night. 

he laid on your chest for a while, regaining his breath and cooling himself down as he fought the urge to fuck you again. you shifted underneath him, a telltale sign that you were beginning to get uncomfortable with his weight on top of you, and he moved, rolling off and to the side of you. 

a mixture of his cum and yours trickled out of your pussy, and he swiped it up with his fingers and the pair of you watched as he pushed it back in, a gasp tumbling from your mouth. 

“you did so well for me tonight, sweetheart,” he kissed your temples, “i love you.”

“i love you too, masey,” you hummed, fighting off a yawn, “lets just hope my parents never find out about this, yeah?” 

“probably for the best.” 

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[football-and-fanfics]

Decorated - Mason Mount

Who: Mason Mount Prompt: decorating the Christmas tree together (with a romantic twist). Requested by: as voted for by you! Warnings: none

Setting up and decorating the Christmas tree was traditionally something you and Mason did together. But because of both your busy schedules, this year you only got round to it a few days before Christmas.

"I'm glad we still decided to do this together," you said happily as you filled the Christmas tree's branches with baubles. You were clad in some over the top Christmas jumper and and Elf's hat balancing on your head. "Yeah, so am I." Mason wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. He, too, wore a ghastly Christmas jumper and had a Santa's hat on. "Even though it's kind of late this year, I love we didn't skip it," he added. You nodded, feeling his hair brush against your neck. "Absolutely."

Mason released his embrace around you to pick up a string of Christmas lights. "And how do these get so tangled up every time." He held up the big tangle of lights, slowly shaking his head. "It doesn't matter how neatly you put them away, next year it somehow always ends up looking like carnage."

Mason sat down on the floor with a sigh, setting to work on untangling the lights. You watched him for a few seconds. A soft chuckle escaped you as you saw his concentrated face and focus on the knots in the string of lights.

"What's this?" You had turned your attention back to the baubles, and suddenly spotted a bauble in the box you had never seen before. "Oh, I found it, and thought it would be nice to hang it in the tree as well." Mason shrugged nonchalantly, but you couldn't help but notice the blush creeping up on his cheeks and how he suddenly seemed to avoid to look at you.

"What's so special about this bauble?" You asked a little suspiciously. At first glance it didn't look all that unique, until you noticed the bauble could open. You gently pulled the two halves apart, and what you saw there took all your breath away.

"Guess you found out what's so special about it, huh?" That confident smirk was back on Mason's face, but the nervousness was also clearly heard in his voice. You looked from the diamond ring inside the bauble to Mason, completely astounded.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time." Mason slowly rose to his feet and took your hands in his. "I wanted the occasion to be special, but also something that was just us." "Oh..." You gasped, tears now welling up in your eyes as you realized what he was about to do.

"Ever since I met you, my life has been so much more beautiful," Mason continued, "we've been through highs and lows together, but those only made me realize one thing: how much I love you." You smiled through a sob. Hearing these words set a fire of love alight in your chest.

Mason had to swallow back tears of his own before he could continue. "I realized I don't want to spend another day of my life without you, and I hope you feel the same way." "I do, I do!" You confirmed without hesitation.

Mason took a deep, trembling breath, and you knew he was going for the big question. "So..." He hesitated nervously, before slowly going down on one knee in front of you. "Would you do me the greatest honor of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?" Another sob escaped you upon actually hearing that question being asked to you, even though the answer was a no-brainer.

"Yes!" You exclaimed happily, fresh tears of joy rolling down your cheeks. "Oh, my god!" Mason gasped, overcome with joy as well, as he quickly clambered to his feet. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you long and lovingly, sealing your engagement.

Tags: @stonesyyyy, @footballffbarbiex, @football1921, @laurasstufff1, @juliabrghs, @ella33, @nightlockcornucopia, @hbstre

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