#mason puffer jacket

[hotmalefashioncity]

Mason Puffer Jacket - Black

[masons-tours]

March

[masonmiamor]

tell me how you truly feel - - mason mount x reader.

Summary: A work ball. A man that makes him jealous. You’re the only one trying in the relationship, what happens when it becomes to much and you feel unsure of the love Mason gives you...

can be kinda toxic... 🧍‍♀️

“Excuse me? You dropped this,” a light voice said. You turned around and saw warm brown eyes, dressed in a black puffer jacket, a black beanie, and cargo pants. You stuttered and look down at his palm which contained your wallet and keys. “Thank you! I had not realized I dropped them,” you said smiling. You carefully took them trying to not shake your hand as much, due to being nervous at his intense but wondering gaze.

“No problem! Y/n? Is that how you say it?” he furrowed his brows asking. “Yes, that's how,” you extended your hand first and he shook it softly but with a grip. “I’m Mason, a pleasure to meet you…”

It was a peaceful and normal interaction that ended up unexpectedly changing your life. Soon you found yourself going on the special first date, he made you comfortable and loved. Then the long walks together at night the small and tender touches, but the anxiousness of wanting hands holding you, but you eventually got there. The first kiss after he invited you to a get-together with his friends, the small but passionate kiss.

The text messages that had you impatient bitting your nail for a text back. Discreetly going to his games so the attention wasn't on you. The first night you spent together after he made dinner for you, the small groans and moans the two of you let out as pleasure overtook your bodies, in his room. The skin-to-skin cuddling after and or when you stayed over. It was perfect until it wasn’t.

After your first serious argument, the two of you didn't talk for a week straight. Pure silence that questions your future. You weren't dating, and all you asked was if the two of you would make it official, which led to chaos  Mason was sweet, loving, humbled, and more of course. But he had a rough and toxic past with previous relationships, that left him always holding back from showing his true affection at times. As much as you always reassured him, you could tell he still was scared and showed his doubts.

You gave up slowly and prepared yourself to start moving on, you were sure as hell wasn't going to apologize. But Mason always came up at unexpected times. And he was determined to prove how special you were in his life. Even if it meant running in the rain to your flat hoping to talk to you and ask you an unexpected question.

You got ready to go buy some groceries after getting frustrated with the lack of snacks and food in your pantry. After putting on a coat you grabbed your small handbag and recycle bags, ready to head off, you looked in tucking your chin down to fix your hair part and fix the flyaways., as you walked off and opened the door you stumbled back scared at the brunette boy out of breath and soaked.

“What the hell? What are you doing here? Come inside! Are you crazy? You’ll get Sick Mason,” you rushed out clearing the pathways and bringing him something he could change into. He looked around but all he could focus on was you, the way your lips moved as you talked, he got distracted and quickly blurted out, “Be my girlfriend, y/n? I need you so much in my life, only you. It's you baby no one else. I promise… I promise that-”

You practically ran over and kissed him, feeling his wet body as he pulled you closer, his stubble tickling your face as your hand guided to his wet brown locks, yet it was so soft. “Yes, yes. You don't have to promise anything right now. We will work through it Mason, we will. Just talk to me, that's all I ask…” you whispered along his lips, he nodded and kissed you again. You giggled and pulled away, looking around and seeing all the water on the floor.

“Come on! You're still wet.”

Since then he slowly let himself loose but yet he still held back at times, how couldn't he when every important person in his life slowly began to disappear? He couldn't go through it again, and afford to lose you. He did shower you with love but you did most of the planning, it felt like the relationship felt one-sided at times and only you were hustling to hold it together.

“I love you, Mason…”

“I love you, Y/n…”

“You make me so angry!”

“You're angry? I have to deal with you when you act so clingy!”

“I'm sorry…” Mason said, kissing your forehead… “I'm sorry too, just act like you care, that is all that matters to me…” you said drunk, turning over letting sleep overtake you.

~~~~~

It became a habit to work in your flat before you began to see Mason. You would sit in an L-shaped position typing away at the material necessary for the next day. Jotting notes, highlighting keywords, and attempting for your document to look clean and organized. Now, it was more current to stay up later because you liked to cuddle with Mason before bed, and waited for him to sleep so you could go downstairs to work quietly.

Today was different as you made yourself at home in his house, prepared a cup of coffee, baked small cookies, and made some easy quick but his favorite sandwiches with chips. You got into the mood and played music in the background, even applied a longer face mask than usual, and grabbed your phone, laptop, and tablet.

You settled into the comfortable couch and meshed your hair into a lazy bun. You worked quicker than expected, not even hearing Mason come through the door after the match. You played after a while, hearing the commentary discuss the highlights and key plays, and about him, and his season so far.

“Hi beautiful,” Mason leans down and you grab both of his cheeks gently while you settle a small kiss on his lips softly. “Hi, handsome. You okay?” you asked as he settled himself between your legs, you played with his hair and you heard him sigh deeply. “I’ve been better, gutted I couldn't play but there's always next match,” he shrugged. He couldn't see you but you frowned, this was taking a toll on him and it sucked to see.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you whispered as all you heard was his now heavier breathing, the work page you had opened set aside, full attention on him. “Distract me. Distract me from my thoughts. Tell me how your day was. What you planned? Anything Y/n…” he said wrapping an arm around your waist, twirling the stand of your pj shorts.

“Today I went to one lesson at Uni, economics class, on my way to the lot I met a cute puppy his name was Henry, I grabbed some flowers for us, well… you. I got a car wash, went shopping for the work ball this weekend, which I hope you attend but I understand if you have to be there for Chelsea-”

“I'll be there baby. Got my suit and tie all tailored and set,” he quickly pointed out making you hold in a squeal. “Perfect!” you continued but his body then tensed and stills at your next words “I then grabbed lunch with Damian-”

“Damian? As in Damian, Damian?”

“Uh yes…?” you said confused. Mason quickly stood up from his resting pushing and rubbing his eyes.  “Hey what’s wrong?” you got up but he ushered you off, you squinted your eyes at the sudden mood change, was it something you had said? Maybe Damian? “Im headed off to bed, I need to shower first, ill see you up there soon?” he said, avoiding your eye contact, you nodded and didn’t say anything else. Was he trying to avoid you?

You let him cool down, the last thing you needed is for a small argument to start, so you respected his boundaries and continued to work. One page led to another, and then another, till you ended up with ten pages worth of information. You yawned and looked over at the time, 2:43 am. Your eyes burned from the bright screen, and they felt dry, so you closed your laptop after saving the work.

You slowly walked up the stairs to his bedroom seeing he was asleep, the tangled sheets covering only his bottom half, the sleep that once was there disappeared, you quickly covered his upper half, and walked back downstairs to watch something on the TV, but you drifted off to sleep, the knitted blanket covering your figure.

Mason woke up, feeling strange as he didn't feel your warm body next to him, rather a cold side and pillow, your scent nowhere to be found, “Y/n?” he quietly said looking around, he rubbed his eyes and saw it was a little over four am. He walked downstairs to hear the background of your favorite tv show playing. But then his heart got warm as he saw your hair all over your face, your hand folded below your chin, and the other resting in between your thighs as you slept.

He turned the tv off and then slowly picked you up carefully, bridal style, and carried you upstairs. He layed you gently and got in next to you, covering your bodies with the thin sheet, you cuddled close to his chest and laid your hand on his bare chest, he smiled and looked down at your sleepy frown face, placing a soft kiss on your temple.

“I love you so darn much, even if I don’t show it as you’d like. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I cannot wait to grow old with you,” Mason said, hugging you closer.

~~~

The next couple of days were better, you had to work a bit of overtime in preparation for the upcoming ball your job was hosting, but you hang out with Mason after. “So I was thinking…” Mason said after wiping the countertops in his kitchen. You washed and scrubbed the dirty dishes insisting on helping, you looked up and smiled, “Yes? You were thinking what?”

“That you attend the match on Saturday and then we come back home to get ready for the ball?” he said coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing the nape of your neck. “Okay, to me it sounds good, I just do not want to stress you-”

“You won’t Y/n… I'm sure of it. I might not even start, but you being there helps me with my mood. You calm me down,” Mason says, resting his head on your shoulder. “Okay then, go to match fixture, come back, and then get ready, sounds good to me,” you say finishing washing the dishes and placing them on the other side. You turn around and hug Mason by his neck smiling.

Mason picks you up and sets you on the counter, trapping you by placing his arms on either side of you. “What do you want?” you say teasingly. “What? I can’t show my girlfriend some attention?” he teases back making you playfully roll your eyes. Your hand strokes his cheek and then his hair becoming nervous under his gaze.

“What are you wearing on Saturday?” he asks rubbing his hand on your thigh, you gulp, and stare into his eyes, “You’re going to have to wait and see,” you remark your index finger poking his chest. The air became tense and heavy, the tension slowly rising. He leans closer and so do you but you pull back as your lips almost touch his, “Let's head to bed, ill bring the snacks for the movie,” you said hopping off the counter.

“Y/n,” he whined but it made you laugh.

Saturday was now here, the morning of you had breakfast in bed with Mason, you surprised him, you took a walk together before he left to go to the stadium. You quickly got ready into some slightly baggy pants, and his jersey. Your hair was natural as well as your makeup as you were going to redo it once you got home. You quickly put on some jewelry and perfume and headed out to meet Sophia who would be the one to drive you there.

When arriving you greeted other people there you knew and headed off to your seats with a water, trying to stay hydrated as possible. Sophia sat next to you and the two of you took pictures, and a few videos then and there but overall it was just observing but catching up with her.

Mason got subbed on for at least fifteen minutes, assisting a goal for his teammate and celebrating. He was ecstatic, finally a small but genuine smile on his face. After the match you met with him by the fields, hugging him close, “Proud of you. Only you know how much work you did to get back on the pitch,” you say your arm around his torse as he guided you to his car.

“You and me know. I have to give you credit for some of the work, always telling me to never give up for the best result. I'll slowly come back you'll see,” Mason says opening the passenger door. Something felt off about him though, you could sense it. He was more awfully cheerful and more affectionate with you, which confused you because he truly never acted like that.

When you arrived at his house you quickly went upstairs and began to get ready. Your hair was curled and side parted into some bombshell curls, you worked on perfecting your smokey eye look to pop out the color of your eyes, applying small but dramatic lashes to add effect. The gold jewelry was placed next, matching the black satin silky gown for the night. It was open back and maybe a tad bit revealing but who cares?

“Y/n? Can I come in now?” Mason knocked on the door. He had been wanting to come in and see but you locked the door and repeated it was a surprise. “Yes! Give me a sec, I'm putting my heels on!” you yelled, you took one more look pleased with the way you look and felt before unlocking the door. Mason stumbled back, his eyes roaming up and down, not knowing where exactly to look.

“Jesus- You look unreal…” he said after taking a deep and close look. Mason was in awe, you looked just beautiful yet so sexy at the same time. He ran his hands over your sides, looking deep at you. “I love the dress, especially this part,” he dragged his finger along the beaded diamonds that were embedded into the chest area. “No can do mister, I can see the look on your face. We have to go, love,” you said pecking his lips.

You stared back at him and fell in love with the all-black suit, the first few buttons on his white top undone, giving him more of a muscular look.

yourusername added to their insta stories!

You held Mason's hand as you guided him through the crowds of people, bumping into people and saying hello presenting him as your boyfriend. Mason kept a hand around you at all times, his finger drawing small shapes then and there on your knuckles. “Y/n? Is that you?” a man's voice called out. You turn and saw Damian walking over.

“Oh my god! Hi! How are you?” you said letting go of Mason's grip and hugging your friend. He wore a navy suit with a white button-up, his curly locks framing his face. “I'm good, you look stunning!” Mason clenched his jaw at the sight. Resisting the urge to push him off of you. One thing about Maso is that he was slightly possessive and jealous, but not like those types.

Mason made a tight fist, his knuckles white from the grip. He walked over and hugged you from behind, “Hi, Daniel right?” he said, you gave him a side look, “It's Damian. It's Matthew, right?” he said crossing his arms. You looked at both men in front of you, feeling the heavy and hot air between them

“It's Mason. A pleasure to finally meet you,” Mason said, you furrowed your brows. Was he jealous of him? He shouldn't be especially when you were here with him and not Damian. “Likewise,” the other man nodded very monotone, looking Mason up and down. After having a small conversation he goes away to retrieve a drink. You turn around crossing your arms over your chest. “What was that?”

Mason shrugs and avoids the question, a serious face plastered, “He’s a bit scrawny, no?” he says, you tell him to be nice and offer him a drink. He doesn't mention Damian but you can tell he doesn’t like him. Damian was one of the first people who helped you get into the company a bit, a close friend. He was respectful and serious, yet the biggest dork to exist.

Mason saw the glances Damian made, giving him a death stare at any chance, his knuckles turned white gripping the glass hard when he saw him approach the table the two of you were at. He sat down a little too close to you, whispering into your ear causing you to laugh at times, especially since the alcohol began to hit your system a little bit.

You kept your hand on Mason’s thigh during the interaction, but it left slowly when Damian asked you to dance. Mason gave you a pleading look to not go, but he didn't want to hold you back from the fun, he manspread a bit on the chair, his index finger above his upper lip while his he bit the nail on his thumb, his leg bouncing up and down resisting the urge to pull you aside and call it a night. He watched your every move, ‘that should be me’ he thought.

Mason quickly got up from his position when you walked back to the table alone, “Did you have fun?” he said sarcastically, and he saw your face contour into a jumbled look. “Yes. I was coming to get you just now so you can join me. I requested our song,” you said softly. He chuckles and scoffs, “Go dance it with Daniel, Damian, whatever his name is. It can be your guys' song now. Oh, and don't bother, I'm living the life of the party right now,” he says making you feel slightly rejected, “Mason… What's with you?” you raised your voice slightly.

“He’s my issue. He won't stop until he gets you to his side. He likes you Y/n” he says seriously but a look of hurt plastered on his face. His now soft brown eyes looking at yours. “Let's go home,” you say Mason following behind you. You said goodbye to those who remained and stayed quiet during the ride, “Drop me off at my flat, please,” you say faintly.

Mason looks over unsure, but when he sees your body turned away he does as you say. You opened the door to your flat and grab a glass of water, sitting on the chair on the island. “So tell me Y/n. You caused all of this for what?” he slightly yelled, taking closer steps toward you. You clenched your jaw, resisting the urge to yell at his face and tell him how you felt the past few weeks. There was no way he was yelling at you for such a minor inconvenience.

“I didn’t cause shit. You’re taking something so small and making it into a bigger issue? Is that what you want? For me to tell you the truth? To hurt your feelings like you have been doing to me?” you tested him, he squinted his eyes now confused. He cocked his face to the side, giving you an “Oh so it’s like that” look.

“Bring it. What more else can I lose?” he challenged. “Me! Me, Mason, me! I'm tired of this constant back and forth with you! Can’t you see it? Can’t you see what you do to tear me, no, us down?” you cried out throwing your hands in the air. “I'm tired of being the only one who tries here, the only one putting in the work to make our relationship work,” you continued.

“You coming at me for letting slight lose after a while isn't what I want,” you say standing up from your chair. “You call that ‘letting lose’?” he quotes you, “You danced with him tonight, infront of me! Damian doesn't like you as a friend! He sees you as something he can claim, and you’re mine, not his.”

“When will you realize I don’t see him as that? I love you, not Damian. I'm sorry you felt that way but you never communicate with me. Do you see what I mean? Look where we are right now! Your jealousy won't fix things here! I try so hard to please you, to make you happy, to be there for you, but I don't receive the same back. It hurts Mase, you don't care about me.”

“I do care about you-”

“You don’t! Stop trying to convince yourself and me. It's always me who initiates things between us. You treat me as if I were a plate for a second table. I haven't even met your family. Are you embarrassed by me? Am I not enough for you? Is that it?” you ask your voice shaky as you approach him.

Mason saw you. He heard the hurt and pleading in your voice, your eyes red, your lips becoming plumper and swollen. “Y/n I love you I do. You know about my past with these kinds of things, I'm still healing too.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to hurt me. To me, it feels like you're unsure and don’t trust me when I’ve given you more than enough to do so. How many times have I told you I'm not like them, I'm someone different, I'm not them? I won't treat you like they did. I love you, genuinely love you. When have you ever doubted me for that?”

Your answer made him quiet, he was no longer angry but more guilty as he saw how you felt inside after so long. How long were you feeling like? Would you still love him after? What would it take for him to prove to you he loves you as much as you do him? He wanted to yell out how much he was willing to do to keep you, to demonstrate, to show and tell you what he feels like when he's around you. The butterflies that appear when you smile in his direction, the touches you leave behind when you kiss him, the attentive stare that makes you look innocent when you listen to him talk. He can't lose you, he promised himself that. It became too much, the reality and realization he was lost for words, he rubbed his forehead attempting to get rid of the headache that began to appear.

“Mason…” you let out a whimper, his full attention now on you. “If you have nothing more to say then I'm asking you to leave… Do it for us… for me…” Then he saw the tears that stained your cheeks, tears he caused. But he does as you say, hearing you cry when he walks away, slamming the door quietly.

He doesn’t realize it but now he’s crying too, looking back through the window at you covering your face crying, your shoulders shaking as you do.

Will it be too late?

[yoursselo]

mason is wearing his big puffer jackets again 😭 girlies we have finally entered autumn 🍁

[mountttmase]

we all agree mason was looking so fine in cfc blue, but can we agree how good he looks in this dark red puffer jacket and training kit 🥵

I’ve don’t some testing and I’ve concluded there’s no colour he looks bad in 🤭 I present to you my rainbow of Mase 😌

[jessmm7]

we all agree mason was looking so fine in cfc blue, but can we agree how good he looks in this dark red puffer jacket and training kit 🥵

Girl Mase looks good in EVERYTHING 😍

[daydreamingleclerc]

hattrick - mason mount smut

gif isn’t mine, creds to owner xxx

that’s my winning baby right there 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 <333 mason tony mount i am so sickly sweet and in love with you my heart aches <33 love you so much xxxxx

summary: you show mason how proud you are of his hattrick. 

warnings: 18+, minors DNI. fingering, blowjob, riding, missionary (unprotected, wrap it up!!), dirty talk, cocky!mason, onsets of a praise kink & breeding kink. think that’s it. hasn’t been proofread but i hope you like it <3

when mason walked through the door, both of you felt an enornous rush of pride. you knew he would score in this game, after having that light and bouncy feeling when you woke up that morning - you just didn’t expect him to score three times. 

the hattrick ball, that was signed in various manners from his teammates, fell to the floor as he opened his arms for you. you, his incredible, loving, wonderful girlfriend who stuck by him through the almost-goals and ruthless thoughts running riot in his mind. you questioned waiting at stamford bridge for all the press to be over, but after a quick fleeting kiss and a partial innapropriate touch between both parties, mason told you to head home. 

he beamed over at you, wearing his winning shirt - that he gave you after the final whistle when you stormed the pitch - and his favourite pair of lace underwear. it wasn’t unusual for you to walk around the house like this but a switch had flicked in his brain and both of you wanted the same thing.

“have i told you how proud i am of you?” 

your arms wrapped around his shoulders while his found their usual place on your hips, thumbs grazing the skin underneath his match shirt. a smirk found its way onto his face, one that you knew you wouldn’t be able to wipe off no matter how hard you tried. 

“once or twice,” he responded, his lips barely nipping yours as you puckered them and leaned in, desperate to feel his skin on yours. mason’s phone vibrated in his pocket, something you were positive would be happening all weekend, but he was only interested in you. “can tell me a few more times if you want, though.”

both of you chuckled, and mason didn’t stop you when you began drawing down the zipper on his chelsea incrested puffer jacket. he also didn’t stop you when you pulled off his training attire - a zip up hoodie and a t-shirt, both chelsea incrested. your fingers ran up and down his toned torso, eyes darting immediately to the soft skin of his neck and shoulders. 

“you’re so handsome.” you stated, the pads of your fingers delicately tracing the thin brown hairs that sat along his sternum. he hummed in appreciation of your ego stroke, his hands coming to move your hair around your back so it didn’t tickle his stomach - also knowing it was his perfect opportunity to mark you up a little bit. 

his teeth found your neck, the cool sensation of his lips softening the sting of the nibbles he left making for a fun juxtaposition that dampened the inside of your underwear. your fingers skimmed his nipples and he jolted, a light whimper falling from his lips. he pulled away from the column of your neck and inspected the bite, and with a smirk, he concluded. “not my best work, i’ll admit.”

you rolled your eyes and brushed your lips against his once more, the barely there movement of your tongue against his flickered away as it dampened his chin. the feeling of his facial hair against your tastebuds was still something you were getting used to, but it made him look so much more gorgeous you didn’t mind the hoarse, sometimes horrible feeling. 

when your lips attatched to the underside of his jaw, he whined. you made it look like light work, making small, barely there red marks in dotted places along his neck that he would need to keep covered as they developed into purple marks, but that didn’t phase him. mason’s fingers brushed against your clit as you stood before him, a whimper now leaving your own lips. 

“so wet for me and we haven’t even done anything, darling,” his voice was so sickly sweet, if you weren’t desperate for him you would’ve quite easily punched him in the face for being so cocky. “is this all for me?” 

you whimpered again when he brushed your clit once more, resting your hot forehead against his neck. “y-yes mason,” you croaked out, hearing the familiar hum of appreciation fall from his mouth. “been like this ever since you scored the first goal.” 

it was sheepish but it was true, the feeling inside you never left and with the more goals he scored, the stronger the feeling got. his fingers continued to brush against your clit lightly, while one hand that was around his shoulder now moved to the tight material of his joggers, where his dick was aching to be released.

his lips found yours when you applied pressure to his crotch, biting down on your lip as a warning, “c’mon, baby no teasing.” he said, breath hot against your chin as he pulled away for a second. as much as you wanted to draw it out, tease him for a while, it would only have backfired on you too and you knew that. 

you tugged at the drawstrings of his joggers and in your haste, pulled his dick straight out. you wrapped a hand around his dick and his fingers applied more pressure to your clit - you knew then you wouldn’t be able to last very long. with every lingering kiss you left on the others lips, pre-cum dribbled from the head of his cock and made it much easier for your hand to slide up and down his thick length. 

mason’s lips caught yours and kissed you properly for the first time since arriving home in an attempt to distract you from his fingers re-adjusting. when his middle finger slipped into your pussy you cried out into his mouth, the feeling making you shudder. his thumb swirled around your pussy and he pushed his index finger in too, and you knew then you would be cumming around them within minutes. 

he bucked into your hand, the noises falling from your lips making him restless but the noises falling from his were ever so pretty. “can feel you clenching around my fingers, sweetheart,” he pressed another kiss to your lips, his voice hoarse and croaky. you whimpered in response, bending your back and spreading your legs slightly to feel his fingers deeper within you. he let out another hot breath and kissed your chin, “cum around them whenever you want, pretty girl.” 

you’d sworn you’d died and gone to heaven when those words left mason’s lips, and within the space of ninety seconds your orgasm hit you, a wave of sheer bliss as you whined and whimpered into his mouth. he swallowed them all, occasionally whimpering at the sound of your noise. when he pulled his fingers from you, he could feel the wetness shrouding them, glistening in your juices. he sucked on them, the taste of you so sweet and perfect to him. 

“so fucking sweet, aren’t you?” 

you nodded and held your tongue out over your bottom lip, wanting to taste yourself on his fingers. he let you lick up the remaints of what was left, but made you hold your tongue out for a few seconds. you watched him conjure up spit, sucking on his own tongue before the excess of saliva transferred from his mouth to yours, and you waited patiently for him to tell you that you could swallow. 

he placed a hand in your hair and kissed your cheekbones as you whimpered, your tongue still out, your hand still tugging at his dick and your wetness dribbling down your thighs. mason hummed, “wanna watch you suck me off in the livingroom.”

you pulled your hand from him and slipped your tongue back into your mouth, fighting every instinct you had to not swallow the spittle he left on its centre. within seconds of him sitting down, you’d tugged his joggers and boxers down enough for his dick to spring up against his stomach on its own, and when mason nodded you wrapped your lips around its head.

the spittle he had transferred was now trickling down his shaft, but before it hit his pubic bone you took him into your mouth again, slurping and bobbing your head in an attempt to make it sloppy, just how he liked it. he moaned when your tongue swirled around his head and you pulled away from him, watching as your spit connected to the pink tip of his penis in the most intimate way possible. 

“forgot how good you are at this,” he noted, bunching your hair in his hand and tugging softly, causing you to look up at him. “maybe i should let you give me blowjobs like this more often.”  

you nodded with his dick stuffed in your mouth, the feeling of his dick being rocked inside your throat like that causing a loud groan to tumble from his lips. he pushed your throat down further with the leverage he had on your hair, until you widened your mouth and your nose hit his pubic bone.

you’d done this so many times before, but everytime you did mason felt as if it was the first time. he noticed the tears spilling from your eyes and triggering a mass of black, mascara induced tears to fall and he was quick enough to wipe them away before they collected and stung your eyes. the thin, forgotten about hairs at the very shaft of his cock tickled your nose and you fought every urge to not scratch it away,  but before you could mason pulled you up. 

“you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, princess.” he cooed, hearing you choke on air when you swirled your tongue around his dick. your hand stroked what your mouth wasn’t touching, and when you looked up at him with puppy dog eyes he knew what you wanted. 

“please can i ride you?” 

he wasn’t sure how any man could say no to that face, and so with a simple nod of his head, you kicked off your underwear and mounted his legs, desperate to feel him inside of you. both of you were so wet that when mason’s dick filled you up, it was easy. his hands bunched at his shirt on your top half, unsure whether he wanted to watch your tits bounce or see you fall apart on his dick in his winning shirt.

you started moving, light bounces with your hands on either of his shoulders, the feeling sending shockwaves to your pussy. mason groaned at the feeling, your ability to clench around him so soon threatened an early release. he watched as your nipples pebbled underneath the shirt, and one hand groped them over the soft material, elicting a soft whimper to fall. 

“you feel so good inside me, mase,” you cried at the feeling of his thumb skimming over your right nipple, “you’re gonna make me cum so hard.” 

“fuck, Y/N.” he grunted. 

“i’ll let you cum inside me,” the words tumbling from your lips made the brunette underneath you groan out with every bounce of your hips, and you knew you were getting to him. “gonna fill me up and watch as it spills out, hm? gonna push your cum back inside my pussy?” 

mason couldn’t take it anymore, your words were spinning around inside his head and he realised he needed to fuck you. he grabbed ahold of your hips and rolled you onto the sofa, so you were laying on your back - the change in angle causing you to cry out. mason bunched up the collar of his shirt and shoved it into your mouth, bunching up the bottom so he could watch your tits underneath him. 

he grabbed ahold of your hands, holding them up above your head so he was able to hold them for leverage. you moaned around the makeshift gag at the force of mason’s hips snapping against yours, hot and unrelenting. sweat was forming on his forehead as he chased his orgasm, the vein protruding on his temple told you it wouldn’t be long. 

“what’s wrong, baby? do you wanna carry on talking, hm?” he asked, eyes glaring into yours as you fought every instinct to speak. he chuckled. 

“shame. you had so much to say.” 

you moaned into the shirt while mason watched you with that cocky smirk on his face. he could tell you were close, wriggling around underneath him unable to hold your legs still and your eyes beginning to roll back. he wanted to watch his cum ooze out of you, and he wanted to hear your whimpers when he collected it on his fingers and push it back into your pussy, he wanted all of it. 

“mason,” you whimpered, voice muffled thanks to the wet material of his shirt. he removed it from your mouth and watched as the spit trickled down the crevice of your boobs. “please can i cum?”

he didn’t answer you straight away, focussing on bringing his own orgasm. he was close, but he wanted to time it so you both came together. he watched himself slip in and out of you, eyes soon focussing on your hand when it situated itself over your clit, middle and index finger swiping left and right quickly in order to trigger it. 

“yes - fuck - yes, princess you can cum.” 

mason’s attention flickered to you when you did as you were told, back arching up off of the sofa as your legs shook around him. you moaned and cried loudly, full of his name and profanities tumbling from your mouth in quick succession, unable to hold any of it in. he soon followed, your pussy clenching around him being the thing that triggered his own, milking him of every last drop of cum that he had. 

he cried out your name and buried his face in the crook of your neck, enjoying the sound of your breathing as you both came down. mason threatened to pull out of you, but you were too sensitive to even move. he kissed your lips, and smiled down at you as you yawned.

“i love you, princess.”

“i love you too, mason,” you kissed his temple and revelled in the silence for a minute. “although don’t expect this to happen after every hattrick.” 

he laughed, and rested his head on your boobs to hear the beating of your heart against his face as your fingers twirled his hair. 

“yeah right, you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.” 

[macybeckham7]

You and your toddler trying to get Mason's warmth and getting in his big coat

He arrives home after UCL game, he was wrapped up nice and warm with a hat and a big puffer jacket. He sits down and wanting cuddles from his two favourite girls and wanting to know everything about your day. YDN climbs on his lap and gets into his jacket, she moves her head down making her completely engulfed in her daddy's warmth. You were mainly looking at her than Mason, he puts his arm out for you which you don't need much encouraging. Mason smiles as he holds his two girls even if they are both using him for his warmth.

[plumbaleena]

Adam

Adam is your quintessential all around good guy, he’s funny, lighthearted, and doesn’t take life too seriously. He’s always been a city boy and is thrilled to explore it more with his best friend Mason. The two of them love to chat at coffee shops and ride their bikes throughout the city. 

Adam’s Traits // Cheerful / Family Oriented / Good

Outfit 1 // hair / sideburns / tattoo / puffer jacket / pants / sneakers

Outfit 2 // shirt / leather jacket / jeans / slip ons

Outfit 3 // full outfit / shoes

Outfit 4 // shirt / jeans / slip ons

DOWNLOAD ADAM HERE

@s4lookbookgallery​

[bluesmason]

mason getting cold very easily and having to wear his damn puffer jacket in MAY is so endearing omfg let me keep you warm baby i’ll cuddle you any minute of the day <3

[masons-tours]

February 2023

[trentaafcsblog]

Midnight Memories

Mason Mount

This isn’t like him at all. Trapped in a crowd of drunk and disorderly people who are staggering around to the beat of the music, sloshing their drinks all over one another when the pink and purple strobe lights descend upon their bodies and start flashing in a series of random patterns, enhancing their alcohol-induced illusions and perceptions of the world as they flail their limbs around and claim they’re flying or walking on clouds - a stage that Mason isn’t willing to reach tonight, or any night, for that matter. 

A sea of girls in overly tight dresses and heels that barely support them crowding around him and slurring things in his ear. Running their fingers up his bare arms and begging for another drink as he awkwardly shakes his head and tries to break away from them, only for another person to grip onto him from the other side and smear their cheap sticky lipgloss all over his neck in an attempt to add ‘I kissed a footballer’ to their CV. “Just kiss meee” they whine, pouting in his face and trying to pull him closer before giving up and making a move on the next available man, one who’s willing to explore their mouths and buy them endless rounds of multicoloured shots for the rest of the night without gently shoving them away or not-so-subtly avoiding their alcohol-coated lips.

This isn’t your type of place either, although you’re five cocktails deep into the stack of pornstars that your friends insisted on ordering. A stain down the front of your white bodycon dress thanks to an escapee half a passion fruit that decided to leave your triangular glass in order to explore the vomit-tainted floor. Your lips all patchy now that your lipgloss has migrated to decorate the rim of your empty glasses with sparkly nude smudges, although you’re slightly relieved because it means that your hair won’t get coated in it anymore, and it minimises the evidence if you end up kissing someone too, not that you came here to do that, or risk putting yourself in the same category as the girls that are now trying to climb into the VIP section with a bunch of semi-famous people, all because they want a drunk kissing video to plaster across their social media, hoping that it takes them to the front of the papers in the morning for being such-and-such’s ‘mystery girl’.

You’re looking up at the VIP area cordoned off by security guards in black puffer jackets and walkie talkies in their hands, feeling an overwhelming sense of empathy for all of the people that have to tolerate that kind of behaviour. Your eyes start scanning across the section of the club that is far too expensive for just a few hours’ stay, wondering if you can recognise any famous faces, but it’s just the ‘I lasted one day in the Villa and still managed to secure a Pretty Little Thing brand deal’ Love Islanders and the friend of the friend of the friend of a semi-professional footballer that made one twelve minute appearance for Arsenal back in 2010 and thinks he’s God’s gift. All of them either eating each other’s faces or taking boomerangs of them cheers-ing their margaritas before having to retake the same video five times because they’ve lost several lime slices in the process and it’s ruining the aesthetic. Your focus sharpening on someone with their back to you and at least ten girls around them, taking it in turns to have a drunken selfie or begging him to buy them a bottle of champagne with one of those fancy sparkler things on the top that gets brought out by women wearing elaborate carnival-inspired feather headbands and very revealing dresses. And you can’t help but feel sorry for him because you can tell just from the back of his head that he’s incredibly uncomfortable, even more so when he gets offered a blowjob from a girl who’s now threatening to get her boobs out in exchange for a whole bottle of Don Julio, in a bucket of ice, just how she likes it.

He’s turning around to face the rest of the club just as you go to look away at the menu that’s being wafted under your nose by one of your friends, and you can’t help but do a double take at his familiarity. Squinting your eyes so that you can get a better look at his features. ‘Nice drink’ you think when your eyes catch the glass of Diet Coke in his hand, quite obviously not accompanied by a swig of vodka going by his incredibly tense frame and stiff dance moves. Well, it’s not really dancing, it’s more of a ‘I’ll just copy what my friends are doing so I don’t look awkward’ move, aka a two-step shuffle from one side to the other. You can’t help but giggle as you watch him from across the room, your friends completely giving up on trying to entice you with a selection of expensive cocktails as they leave you to stare at some random man on the other side of the club, their need for a second stack of bright coloured drinks clearly overriding the want to look out for their friend.

You’re watching him for a bit longer. Becoming completely fixated on this familiar stranger who you can’t help but sit and giggle at. Part of you wanting to cringe with him at how hellish this night has become, but at the same time, it’s kind of funny watching someone who should be so used to having a large following blush and laugh awkwardly if anyone happens to recognise him. Okay, maybe it’s slightly uncomfortable to sit and watch a swarm of girls attack him with their overdrawn lips whilst he does everything in his will to not shove them into next week, especially when his friends start laughing and taking little videos of the awkward encounters, clearly ready to embarrass him at a later date. But regardless, it’s nice to know that fame hasn’t gone completely to his head, unlike an ex-reality TV star who’s screaming ‘do you know who I am?’ at one of the bouncers who won’t let her hang out with her ‘friends’ in the VIP section.

But you’re quickly forced out of your trance when you feel somebody shoving something into your hand. Looking down at your palm and clocking the ten pound note before your eyes are lifting to the hand that it’s been given from. “Go and get us those cocktails” your friend slurs before slumping back in her seat and falling to one side slightly, her pink lipstick slathered all over her chin from where she’d tried to apply it without a mirror when a man wearing an extremely tight fitting top happened to settle down in the booth next to you, obviously hoping that he’d look her way. “Hurry up, I’m thirstyyy” your other friend whines, making you sigh and mutter something under your breath in reference to them being lazy and ruining your evening, as you slide out of the row of pink arched seats and stand up. Having to grip onto the back of the chairs when your legs go all warm and fuzzy from the one too many cocktails you’d already consumed, pulling your dress down to a more appropriate length before heading off in the direction of the bar. Trying to catch a glimpse of Mason as you swerve in and out of the sea of dancing bodies, but you just end up feeling as though you’re going to fall to the floor when the strobe lights start spinning on the ceiling before dispersing their blue and green beams around the room at the most ridiculous speed. Everybody around you swaying from side to side and elbowing you in the ribs as you try your best to dodge them, kicking yourself for wearing the most stupid pair of heels as your toes crush into each other more and more with each step, cursing when you skid in a puddle of what looks like - or at least you hope is - vodka, and you have to grab onto a stranger’s arm to steady yourself, much to their dismay until they catch a glimpse of your apologetic face and suddenly want to make out with you.

You’re breathing a sigh of relief when you finally make it to the bar, setting your bag down on the counter and ordering what you think your friends want, although you probably should have double-checked with them first considering you were too busy having a nosy at someone across the club to pay any sort of interest to their alcohol preferences. “What?” you’re shouting at the barman when he tells you the total of the drinks, hoping that you’ve misheard him but ten pounds clearly isn’t going to cover the cost of sixteen cosmopolitans with added shots of vodka. Panicking when he repeats the price and turns his back to get started on making them, your hands now frantically searching your bag in the hope that you manage to find the extra money before he starts yelling at you for ordering things without being able to pay. “Fuck” you’re hissing as you turn the contents of your bag out onto the countertop, checking the inside of your phone case and a pressed powder incase they happen to house the remaining money. Your heartbeat pounding louder in your ears the closer it gets to having to admit that you’ve actually only got a quarter of what you need. 

“I’ll get it” someone’s saying, clearly sensing the tension between you and the barman as you shrug your shoulders in response to him sticking his hand out for the money. “I’m not a charity” you snap back, your slightly tipsy state giving you a rush of confidence as you continue to search your bag in the hope that the money has magically appeared just so that you can laugh it off and shut everyone up. “I know, but it’s on me” they’re saying again, leaning forward and tapping their card on the machine before you can even consider fighting back a second time. “Thank-” you’re starting before realising who it is that’s just saved you from an incredibly awkward situation. Surely not. Surely Mason Mount hasn’t just bought you, of all people, a load of cocktails for your mates.

“It’s okay” he laughs nervously, making your heart melt because clearly he’s just as awkward around you as he is everybody else in this club. “Prices have gone up, haven’t they?” he smiles as he takes a step closer to you, propping himself up on the countertop with his elbows before asking the barman for a lemonade, with ice, just so it isn’t too fizzy. “Yeah, I don’t normally come out so I underestimated it a bit” you laugh shyly before looking off in the other direction, simultaneously cursing and thanking your friends for leading you to believe that you could get sixteen cocktails for a tenner, because without their stupidity, you wouldn’t be talking to the boy that you’ve been watching all night. “Prefer to stay at home then?” he asks as you turn back and nod your head. “Me too” he’s saying, “I’m normally in bed by now” he giggles as his gaze rises to the clock above the bar, the time reading 00.04am. The slight dark glow under his eyes letting you know that he’s normally tucked up by 9pm in his pyjamas. “What are you doing here then?” you ask. Stupid question really. He’s here for the same reason that you, and probably half of the people here, are - he’s been dragged along and forced to pretend that he’s a right party animal whilst he sips his non-alcoholic drinks and fights off every woman in sight. “My mates made me tag along, I’m kind of glad they did now though” he’s telling you, the second part of his sentence almost becoming inaudible as his voice quietens just as the volume of the music rises with the chorus of ‘My Yé Is Different’, ironic since you’ve just spotted the twenty grand watch decorating his wrist whilst you’re stood there in a passion fruit stained dress. But you’re still managing to hear it, and you can’t work out whether that’s in reference to you, or the fact that he’s been able to drink fizzy drinks when he’d normally only have water. Except you’re not stupid. 

“Bet you say that to everyone” you tease, gaining his attention again as he laughs nervously and shakes his head. “Only the special ones” he replies, which is true, but now you can’t help but wonder if his drinks have been accompanied by a few shots of something or another because those words and the sincerity of his tone aren’t a reflection of the awkward man you spotted ten minutes ago, let alone the fact that he clearly considers you to be one of these ‘special ones.’ “Yeah, yeah” you’re saying back, flicking your hair over your shoulder before taking a sip of one of the cocktails that are sat before you, still waiting to be taken back to your friends. “Got quite a few drinks for somebody that doesn’t go out much, no wonder you needed me to pay” he winks as you roll your eyes and blush at the thought of somebody having to give you a helping hand with the price. “This is my last one, I’m off in a minute cose I can’t keep up with everyone else” you’re shouting over the music, watching him throw his head back and laugh because he thought he was the only one in that position. “I’ll join you” he’s replying, thanking the barman for his drink before taking a sip through the straw. “Not the sort of thing you say to a girl after only knowing her two minutes, Mason” you’re teasing, studying his face as his eyes blow wide slightly and he shakes his head, quickly swallowing his lemonade before stuttering on his words. Unsure whether he’s panicking about you jokingly misinterpreting his comment, or if he’s uncomfortable over the fact that yet another girl knows his name, but either way, he’s laughing awkwardly when you tell him that you’re only messing. 

“I wouldn’t mind though” you say smugly, causing another nervous giggle to escape his lips. Your alcohol-induced confidence only adding to the butterflies that are already batting their wings against his rib cage, something about your slight feistiness and sarcastic sense of humour attracting him to you, even more so when he takes in how beautiful you still look despite being on the verge of your alcohol limit.

“Where are you going afterwards?” he’s asking once the lights have swivelled around in the opposite direction and the blush on his cheeks isn’t so evident. “I’ll just go to the chippy down the road and then get a taxi home” you’re telling him, looking down into the fluorescent pink concoction in your glass and feeling your stomach churn at how rough it’s going to make you feel in the morning. “Mind if I join you?” he’s asking as you look across at him in disbelief, watching as he downs the last few sips of his drink and stands the glass back on the countertop. Is this a dream or something? “Sorry, that was a bit forward...again” he panics, feeling a surge of anxiety run through his body incase he’s greeted with newspaper headlines in the morning about him unintentionally trying to latch onto girls that aren’t interested in him, even if half of the club know his name. 

“No, it’s fine, of course you can” you laugh, your cocktail glass almost slipping out of your grip thanks to the layer of sweat that is now developing across your palm. “I’ll just take these over to the girls and then I’ll be ready” you smile, looping the strap of your bag over your shoulder and grabbing as many glasses as you can, which really isn’t a wise move since you’ve partially lost all sense of coordination thanks to Mason’s ability to wipe any drop of confidence out of your body and replace it with nervous butterflies. 

“I’m off” you’re announcing once you’ve made your third trip back to the booth your friends are sitting in, their drunken reactions to your words making you giggle as you reach over them to grab your jacket. “Where are you goinggg?” one of them whines, gripping onto your leg and pouting before another one is drawn to the verge of tears at your confession. “I’m just tired” you nod, blowing them all a kiss and ensuring that they text you when you’re home as you turn around and head off towards the exit, not wanting to keep Mase waiting any longer. Praying that he’s stood just around the corner outside as he’d promised as you stagger across the dance floor and dodge a sea of flailing limbs and slurred shouts of ‘can I get your number?’. A sigh of relief forcing itself out of your nostrils when the ‘exit’ sign hanging above one of the fire doors becomes within touching distance and the bouncer in charge anticipates your departure, pushing down the grey bar across the middle of the door and letting it swing open, enabling you to step out into the night.

“There you are” you smile as you approach the back of his figure, his head kept down and a cap adding a nice accessory to his outfit, although it’s definitely worn as some form of disguise. “Hi” he’s smiling nervously when he realises that it’s you, a swarm of butterflies invading his tummy again when you link your arm through his and gently rest your head on the top of his shoulder - a move that you’re aware might push you into the same category as the other girls that have been after him all night, but your crippled feet and wobbly legs are grateful for the extra stability, even if your motivation to make that move takes you both by surprise. 

“Let me get this” you’re saying once you’ve made your way into the kebab shop, your arm dropping away from his as you gesture towards the table up against the front window. “You sure?” he’s asking, dipping his hand into his back pocket ready to pull his wallet out just incase, but you’re nodding and confirming that you’re more than capable of paying four-pound-fifty for a kebab and a couple of drinks - just as well really after the events earlier this evening. Giving him a small smile as he turns and heads off towards the table in the corner, his celebrity instincts kicking when he takes the seat right in front of the glass, conveniently covered by a sticker of the menu, and some extra protection offered from the back of his body. 

You’re setting the gold foam kebab box down on your table for two, along with two plastic forks, a bottle of water and a Fruit Shoot because you noticed him eyeing them up in the fridge when you came in. And it turned out to be one of the hardest decisions of your life trying to work out what flavour he wanted. Maybe it was the alcohol that was messing with your brain, making you think that he was more of an citrus guy than a berry one. Or maybe it was the fact that you were buying a child’s drink for a fully grown adult, a famous one too, who probably hasn’t had one for ten years, which only added to the pressure. Or maybe it was because you liked him and you didn’t want to ruin your chances by getting him the wrong flavour. But after flicking your gaze between the stack of bright coloured bottles and his body cowering away in the corner, you settled for the blackcurrant one, just because he looks like the type of person to play it safe - well, he is the type of person to play it safe, going by his Diet Coke and lemonade choices tonight. 

“This for me?” he’s asking as he picks the purple bottle up, smiling when you nod to confirm his answer. “How did you know this was my favourite flavour?” he’s questioning, a smug look appearing on your face as you shrug your shoulders and reply with ‘only the ‘special ones’ know that kind of information’. A giggle escaping his mouth at your words before he’s pulling the plastic lid off the drink and taking a sip, humming at the familiarity despite not having one since his seventh birthday party. “Still as good as they used to be” he’s saying, something about the additional happiness that’s now surging through his body after a drop of blackcurrant juice making your tummy fill with butterflies because he really is just the cutest, biggest child.

You’re both sitting in a comfortable silence as you pick at your shared kebab, trying to eat from separate ends so that you don’t cross any boundaries or run the risk trying to stab your forks into the same piece of chicken. But the fuzzy filter that the alcohol has brought to your eyes and the slight delay that it’s caused between your thoughts and your actions means that you find yourself diving into the last piece of pitta bread just at the same time that Mason does. And from his side it’s a poor judgement call. The sugar from his Fruit Shoot clearly giving him an extra boost of energy and causing his arm to extend outwards towards the polystyrene box, clouding his mum’s reminder that ‘you need be a gentleman and let girls eat whatever’s left, even if you want it’. And truth be told, he doesn’t really want it, which is why the pang of anxiety as soon as his plastic fork clashes with yours is stronger than ever. His cheeks turning a violent shade of crimson as he quickly pulls his fork back, leaving just four little holes from where the prongs had been as you panic and do the same.

“Sorry, no you have it” he says quietly, nudging the box towards you in the hope that you get the hint. “No, you eat it” you smile, pushing it back towards him. The two of you just repeating the same movement as the box moves two centimetres one way, and then two centimetres back the other. “Mason, just eat it!” you whine as he sits opposite you and shakes his head. “I said you could have it” he smiles nervously, subtly wiping the sweat off his palms and onto the material of his jeans when he realises that you’re staring straight into his eyes. “Why are you getting all nervous for? Just eat ittt” you groan, a giggle escaping his lips because there’s no way you’re backing down on this one. “Fine” he huffs, stabbing his fork back into the little holes that it made earlier before slowly moving it towards his mouth. Your eyebrows raising more and more as you watch it edge closer to his lips. And then he’s doing the unthinkable and quickly changing the direction of his fork so that it starts heading towards your mouth instead. Involuntarily parting your lips whilst you wait for what’s just happened to register, and the next thing you know, you’re swallowing the piece of pitta bread. 

“What a fuss about nothing” he hums as you roll your eyes at him. “You’re quite romantic, aren’t you?” you tease as his eyebrows furrow in the middle, waiting for you to clarify your comment. “Is that all of the alcohol that’s made you so desperate to share the last piece of food with me?” you question, another layer of blush painting itself across the tops of his cheeks. “Oh, sorry, you didn’t have anything to drink, did you? Lightweight” you smirk, making him roll his eyes this time. “I’m just being a gent, plus you’ve been drinking so you need something to sober you up, maybe it’ll stop you being so rude next time I offer to buy you a drink” he says smugly, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in the chair. A wave of composure washing over him now that he’s left you slightly speechless and he’s matched your sense of humour. “Next time? You’ll be lucky” you sass as he scoffs at you. “You’re the one that needs to buy me a drink to apologise for snapping at me, so there will be a next time to call it quits, thank you” he smiles, his sudden burst of confidence talking to you allowing his real personality to shine through, and you can’t help but start to get lost in it. “Was I really that rude?” you ask, secretly dying as you think back to your ‘I’m not a charity’ comment at the bar. “No, I’m just messing” he laughs, eliciting the same response from you as you erase that memory out of your brain. “You’re just confident, I like it” he’s saying, the last part of his comment getting lost when a group of people come staggering through the door, drowning out his words for the second time tonight, but you’re ninety-nine percent certain you managed to catch it. And now you’re the nervous one.

You’re quickly moving the conversation on to something else when you feel your chest starting to heat up with anxious prickles. Mason going all funny inside because it’s clear that he has the same effect on you as you do him, but he’s trying to push that to the back of his mind as he listens to you rambling on about your favourite breed of dogs, and how you had a fish finger sandwich for tea before you came out tonight, and how you actually know quite a lot about football but you’re reluctant to bring it up because you don’t want to embarrass him, although your drunken state causes you to let a few football facts slip out, all of them relating to Mase but you’re too caught up in your fuzzy alcoholic state to even recognise. But he does, obviously. Finding it sweet how you know exactly how many appearances he’s made for Chelsea, and what minute he came on in his debut against Manchester United, and what colour boots he wore against last season’s match against Newcastle. Just sitting back and letting you talk in between the occasional swig of water, hardly being able to get a word in edgeways because the alcohol is well and truly running through your veins now, making you come out with all kinds of mismatched comments and slurs. But he doesn’t mind, which takes him by surprise a bit, especially as he’s secretly scared of drunk people and he can count the amount of times he’s felt a bit tipsy on one hand, but there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s your sense of humour and how you’ve got him in stitches, or how your drunken state leads you to be more concerned about the welfare of a stray cat outside than it does anything else on the planet, or maybe it’s how deep beneath that strong outer shell you’re protecting yourself with that he knows you’ve got a heart of gold, an inside of ‘pure mush’ as his mum would say. 

“What time is it?” you slur after knocking back your last swig of water. “Nearly one o’clock” Mason’s replying, glancing at his overly-expensive watch as you sit there and wonder how he actually knows what hour of the day it is when all of the numbers have been replaced by diamonds. “Better head off” you mumble, staring blankly into the empty kebab box and trying to process what move you need to make next in order to get yourself back home in one piece. “I’ll order you a cab if you want, or I’ll walk you back, I don’t know how far away you live” he’s saying, forcing you out of your trace as you look up at his tired, bloodshot eyes. Knowing full well that as soon as you’re gone he’ll be running home to bed with a glass of water to tone down the bubbles in his tummy from his fizzy drinks, paranoid incase they give him a fizzy version of a hangover. “I live about half an hour away and I can tell you’re ready for bed so I’ll go with the cab” you smile, making him giggle nervously at the fact that his tiredness has been uncovered, although it’s not difficult to pick up on the fact that the only other time he stays up this late is on New Years Eve, and even then he normally sets an alarm for 11.57pm so that he can wake up from his nap in time.

You’re letting him help you put all of your belongings back into your handbag after you insisted on showing him your favourite lipgloss midway through your earlier conversation. Linking your arm through his and stepping out into the coldness of the night, a breeze nipping across your legs and causing you to let out a little squeal as you start pulling your dress down to try and hide your goosebumps. “Here” Mason’s saying, taking his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders. “Mase” you’re replying. Mase - he likes that, and he likes how naturally it’s left your mouth too. Trying to give it back to him but he’s adamant that you keep it. “Gives me another reason to see you in order to get it back” he winks, making you roll your eyes as you stand snuggled into his side on the edge of the pavement. 

“Did you want my number?” he’s asking, already taking his phone out of his pocket and holding it out in your direction before you even have chance to respond. “You’ve not really given me an option have you?” you laugh, making him giggle as he shuffles awkwardly from side to side, waiting for your digits to appear on the screen. “Only because I need to give your jacket back, there’s no other reason for this” you tell him, smiling as he nods his head but you both know that’s a little white lie. “There you go” you’re saying, passing his phone back to him as his eyes study the new contact in his hand. A new number written beneath Y/N. 

‘Shit’ he’s thinking. He didn’t even ask for your name before this. Awkward. 

“Pretty name” he smiles, trying to play it off cool, but you’re not drunk enough to not notice his mistake. “So pretty that you didn’t even know that’s what I was called until now” you reply, making him giggle and let out an awkward ‘oops’. “I’ll let you off this once” you’re saying as you look up at him stood beneath the lamppost that’s towering above the two of you. A golden glow adding a filter to his face and making him look even more gorgeous than he did when he was sipping his lemonade in the club and shoving lettuce and chicken into his mouth. And you’re desperate to just kiss him, especially since he’s got a bit of dried Fruit Shoot in the corner of his mouth and you know his lips will taste all sweet like they do in the movies. But considering he’s only just learnt your name you don’t think it’s the right time, and there’s also a bunch of Tottenham fans making their way up the street, not wanting to have to make him endure any teasing, especially when he’s already stayed up late in a part of town he wouldn’t usually be seen dead in to spend time with you. 

“Thanks for tonight” you whisper as you briefly rest your head on his shoulder, pulling it away when the taxi he’s ordered for you appears at the side of the curb. “My pleasure, thank you” he’s saying back, removing his protective hand from the small of your back and stepping forward to open the back door of the car for you. “Told you that you were a gent” you tease as he mumbles ‘shut up’ and pretends to shove you into the back seat with a giggle. “See you soon for that jacket, yeah?” he winks as you reply with ‘yeah yeah, whatever’, making him let out a little chuckle as he closes the door on you. Giving you an awkward little wave as you head off down the street, standing and waiting for your car to turn the corner before heading home himself. Leaving just a message of ‘thank you again, can’t wait to get my jacket back cose it’s freezing without it ;) x’ that’s just appeared on your screen connecting the two of you. And even if you have been slightly tipsy tonight and now can’t remember half of the things you spoke about, there genuinely doesn’t seem like a better person to sit in a kebab shop with in the early hours of the morning after stumbling across him by pure chance a club that neither of you particularly wanted to spend the night at. Thanking your lucky stars for allowing your paths to cross because you already know this is the start of something special. Very special.

[yoursselo]

mason looks like a tiny teddy bear every time he wears a puffer jacket

[moneymasnn]

Match day|mason mount

notes: I haven't really proof read this so ignore any mistakes lol <3

“Good luck” you whisper in masons ear as you go to pull out of your hug. He was standing outside chelsea changing rooms ready for the match against norwich city.

With a strong grip still on your waist, he gently whispers back “your all the luck I need.” kissing your head and then entering the changing rooms.

“Honestly, you guys make me feel sick, but you're cute so it doesn’t matter.” lewis says with a huff as you both walk down the corridor to go to the stands. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment.

You had been to every single Chelsea home match since the begging of the season, you always like to be there when he scores his first goal of the season. A tradition you had picked up when you first stared dating when you was only 16.

Although It became more difficult as you became adults, mason because he was now a professional footballer and had more matches to play, and you being a famous YouTube and social media star you become nervous of getting huddled by fans and crowds at matches.

So far he hasn’t scored this season and you knew he was feeling slightly disheartened about it. But this morning you assured him that it will happen, and even if he doesn’t get on the score sheet he’s going to do great in todays match. Your always keep to remind him that your always proud of him no matter what, and mason loved that you was always there from him, supporting him when he needs you most. He loves you more than you know, and is extremely great-full to have you in his life.

Sitting in your cold seat with masons brother Lewis, you had black puffer jacket and black cap on (that you stole from mason) and a blue number 19 shirt nestled warmly underneath, (the shirt also stolen from mason)

You noticed masons team mates timo and Christian sat in the seats in front of you, with there hoods up protecting themselves from the coldness outside.

You pat timo on the head, flashing him a huge smile while offering him one of your wine gums.

And not long after that the players get ready for kick off. Your chest grows warm as you notice mason on the side with a huge smile on his face talking to chilly while stretching to warm up. After the game started mason scored 8 minutes in, Lewis could have sworn he’s never seen you scream so much and timo could have sworn his ear drum popped. You cheered for his goal and felt your eyes go glossy because you know how long he had waited for this. After that you sat though the whole game shouting even louder when he scored his second and third goal.

After the match you was buzzing to run down onto the pitch to congratulate mason. Walking down the tunnel with your vip lanyard that you and Lewis had on so security would let you thought, you notice mason on the feild. He was all sweaty and his hair was stuck to his forehead, with the football under his arm and a hand on his hip. “Mase” you practically shouted it loud enough for the whole stadium to hear as you sprinted over to your boyfriend.

As soon as he heard ‘mase’ , you only ever called him that, he threw the ball at chilly.

“look after that for me would you mate” as he ran over to you. His smile was absolutely everything you wrap your arms around his shoulders your hand grazing the stubble on the back of his neck. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up and spins you around. You both knew that people were around taking videos from the stands and all the interviewers cameras were panned on the two of you, but you didn’t care. As soon as he spun you around you brought your hands up to his face and heald his cheeks.

“You scored!” You screeched, a huge smile plastered on both your faces. But before he could say anything.

“THREE TIMES!” you screamed, mason laughed at your excitement he knew how proud you are of him.

“Thank you y/n” he said in a calm voice.

“For what?” You say looking him in the eyes as he now has a serious face.

“Believing in me all the time” you just smile and pull him in for a kiss. You bend back as he leans forward to deepen the kiss. It was slow and passionate, and everyone was watching. Once mason pulled away pecking your lips a few more times for good measure, you giggle and kiss his freckly nose.

“I love you” slips from masons mouth. A word you guys say often, like when you end a phone call, or when you say goodbye but the way he said it tonight was different, he really really meant it.

“I-“ you was cut off before you could finish.

“Mason mount, you can’t just walk away from an interview, get back here now” you giggle while placing your hand from his neck and now on his chest.

“My little goal scorer.” You peak his lips one more time, “can’t wait to congratulate you properly when we get home” a smirk playing on your lips.

He was thinking of all the very unholy things he was going to do to you later when you got home, groaning with annoyance while he was being shouted out by Chelsea’s pr manager, and Jen was a very scary woman. He turns around to see an angry Jen tapping her foot, when he turns back to you you both giggle.

“Wait, dont go anywhere I want you to sign my ball” he kisses your hand while removing it from his chest and steps back to leave.

“Oh hey Lewis, thanks for coming bro, means a lot that you stood in the stands with my way to over excited girlfriend,’ who just might I add nearly knocked me out on multiple occasions! Especially when you got that hatrick, ugh and all the pda i just experienced too, where is my best brother of the year award?.” Says Lewis in a sarcastic manor behind me.

Mason rolls his eyes and turns to his over dramatic brother, “Yeh yeh mate don’t get jealous, I love you too. I’ll be back in a minuet okay? I can practically see steam coming from jens ears” and with that he runs off to finish his interview.

[jchnstones]

Loves me more | ben chilwell & mason mount

In which mason has recently moved in with Ben, and both proceed to bicker over who Oscar, the dog, loves more.

& so the christmas countdown begins! i hope you guys enjoy all of the imagines I post! you’ll be taken on a rollercoaster hehe. <3 merry Christmas!

word count: 1,953

BURIED UNDER several layers, head dunked under a woolly hat, mason is on his knees, bent over to reach the dogs height.

He and Ben had been living together for almost a year now, mason pleading for joint custody of Oscar ever since the first day he'd moved his things into the house. finally giving in four months later, ben needed a way to keep mason happy and quiet, so agreed. mason had always had a soft spot for the dog, but the shared ownership of their companion was driving ben slowly insane.

"this one first," mason says, gently placing one of oscar's front paws through the hole of his red harness. he beams at oscar, pulling his other paw through as the dog stares back at him willingly. he clips the harness together at both sides, adjusting it over his body to fit him comfortably. satisfied, he plants a kiss over the fur on his head, standing from his knees.

"do you not think it's a bit too cold for him today?" you say, zipping up your jacket. mason moving in with Ben meant you hardly ever had the house alone on date nights anymore, mason intruding some nights, sneaking in to steal the snacks. you loved having him around more-he was like a brother to you.

"He’ll be fine," mason says, running his hand over Oscar's fur. "we won't be out for long."

"y/n is right, mase, we could just leave it 'till tomorrow." ben states, walking into the hallway from the kitchen. bens hugged into a blue puffer coat, accompanied by grey joggers as usual.

mason frowns, now connecting Oscar's lead to his harness. he shakes his head in protest, hand gripped around the handle ready to get started on the walk.

"I said we won't be too long. our boy needs a walk so he'll get one."

ben rolls his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. you smile, a giggle threatening to escape. you manage to stop it as you turn to face away from him to avoid any confrontation. you knew he hated whenever mason called oscar theirs instead of bens, but he let it slide every time. you could see it bubbling up inside, and eventually, he'll explode.

"well, let's take our dog for a walk then." ben agrees, walking over to mason and Oscar who're waiting by the front door. He raises his hand to take a hold of the lead from mason, but mason tugs it away from him towards his chest.

"well come on then, let me take him." he says, eyebrows furrowed as he wiggles his fingers back and forth for mason to pass Oscar over to him. mason shakes his head, stepping back away from him.

"It’s my turn to hold his lead." the boy says, staring blankly at ben.

you watch as the boys continue to bicker, arms folded. you're zipped up, scarf wrapped around your neck with matching gloves over your hands to keep the warmth in. it had been snowing the previous night, the frost still lingering in the air with snow still spilled over the pavements, glistening from trees and covering any patch of grass there once was.

"You're being childish," he replies, throwing his arms to the side. bens cheeks are flushes as he grows heated, anger building.

"no, you're being childish ben. look at him, he just wants to get going. now move from the door and we'll leave."

Ben moves his eyes from mason and down to oscar who stares blankly back at him. he sits on the marble floor, eyes sunken as he waits, bored, for his owners to stop squabbling.

"yes, because he looks so excited." ben mocks, snickering.

unable to stand the boys' pathetic dispute and feeling sorry for poor oscar, you step forward closer to them, taking the lead out of masons hand.

"How about I hold him this time? will that settle you both?" you question rhetorically, stepping back towards the door. your fingers fiddle with the lock before it unlatches, the door opening.

"whatever. you're so annoying." mason huffs. he follows as you and Oscar step outside and into the bitter air, Ben locking the door behind the four of you. a smile tugs at his lips as he finds your gaze, his feet crunching in the snow as he speed walks to catch up to you. fingers interlocking with yours, he squeezes your hand as though to thank you from masons constant bicker.

/

after ten or so minutes, the four of you are halfway through your daily route. Oscar carries a stick in his mouth, his paws leaving tiny adorable marks in the snow as you trudge along. bens arm is hooked to yours as you huddle together, breathe fogging up in front of you as you breathe. you're still clung on to Oscar's lead, the boys calmed down only moments after setting off. the conversation leaping from topic to topic- christmas plans to the boys final games of the year and finally to mason mocking a 'christmas proposal.'

"we don't even live together yet mase," you reply, eyebrows raised as mason cackles at his own remarks.

"you should move in with us. the more the merrier I say." ben suggests half jokingly, he nudges your side as he tilts his head, nose gleaming red through the winter air.

"And get in the way of you three playing happy families? respectfully, no thank you." you all laugh, the chorus echoing around the three of you.

"at least oscar won't have to deal with triple custody." ben chuckles, aiming his words at mason as they walk side by side in a line. mason pouts, shoving his hands in his coat pockets to heat them up a little. "And what's that supposed to mean?" mason inquires, dragging his feet along in the snow.

you look at ben, him instantly turning to you, eyes widening. here we go again, you think, ben reciprocating the thought.

"nothing," ben starts, "but you're a bit over the top when it comes to oscar. he's not even yours. not really. He's mine."

"Ben!" You gasp, returning the nudge he gave you earlier. although it was true, you knew he'd hurt masons feelings. he loved Oscar and adored caring for him, but agreed that he sometimes thought he was continuously in charge of him.

"no, he's ours." mason protests. He stops, you and ben copying him as you notice he's no longer by your side after a couple of steps. oscar tugs at the lead, sitting in the snow once he learns his owners have come to a halt. his stick pokes out of his mouth, eyes studying the park and the white trees that surround him.

"boys come on, I don't think oscar-" you're cut off by a stroppy ben, who has let go of the hook around your arm. he places one hand on his side, the sass oozing out of his stance. "He's mine. And I bet he loves me more."

"Absolutely not," mason snaps, wailing his hands in front of him. "he loves me more." you're stood between the pair, lip tugged at one side, eyebrows furrowing. this was such a silly fight, but one you know Ben would happily have for his fur baby. ben nods towards oscar, who's now lay unbothered, chewing on the stick, fur covered in snow.

"well there's only one way to find out." mason deflates, his eyes rolling. he knew exactly what Ben was suggesting, and with him having a couple years extra with oscar, he knew he was losing this battle.

"Mase, you go stand over there," ben points to a tree, a couple of feet away from where they stood. "And I'll stand over opposite you. y/n, put oscy in the middle, and whoever he runs to, he loves the most."

you sigh, watching as pair disperse to their allocates areas. bending down to oscar, you pat him on the back sympathetically. "daddy and uncle mase are arguing oscy," you whisper, taking his stick and shoving it in your coat pocket for later. "I think mommy should adopt you. but don't tell daddy I said that." you scoop him up into your arms, carrying him over to the middle of the boys.

"okay, on the count of three," mason shouts, hands cupped around his mouth. "one," you place oscar down, he sits staring at you as you hold your hands out to him to stop him running prematurely. "two," ben shouts. he's stood, knees bent with his hands on his knees, ready to call oscar over to him.

"three."

you step away from the dog, allowing him to do his own thing. ben yells oscar's name repeatedly, mason whistles and claps to get his attention. oscar doesn't move an inch, still sat staring at you as you stand back from the scene. he moves his head either side of him, shooting both boys a glance before laying down in the snow. he rests his head on his paws, nose barely touching the cold snow.

you laugh, observing as both boys squint at the dog, huffing as he does nothing.

"he's not moving," ben states, pointing at the dog sprawled in the middle. mason places a hand to the back of his head, scratching his scalp awkwardly as he waits for something to happen.

"maybe if we try once more," he calls over, nodding as to convince himself his plan will work.

once again, ben bends his knees, hands patting on his thighs to invite his furry friend over. "here oscy, come to daddy," he shrieks repeatedly.

mason clicks his fingers, whistles some more and howls to try and attract him, but nothing works.

defeated, the pair rejoin in the middle, either side of Oscar. you waddle over them, hands tugged into your pockets. "You weren't supposed to do that," ben says, crouching to him, fingers running through his fur. Mason joins him, his hand patting him on the head.

"I told you he's our dog. He loves us both equally," mason beams, booping the dog on his nose. Oscar stands, tail wagging as his paws dig in the snow. "he was protesting," you giggle, watching as oscar starts to play. "he told me that he doesn't like it when daddy and uncle mase fight over him.”

ben looks up at you, lips tucked into his mouth as he shakes his head before he returns to his feet, pushing you playfully once he's up. "Give over you. he just didn't want to hurt uncle mason's feelings." ben pouts mockingly at mason, wiping fake tears away from his eyes.

mason jumps up, his smile reaching his eyes. He scoops some snow into his hands and tosses it at ben. the snow splatters on his coat, ben watching as mason laughs. "you absolute jokester," ben chuckles, shaking his head at mason whose bent over double with laughter.

"have we done kissing and making up now? It's absolutely freezing." you pick up Oscar's lead and grip the handle, shivering underneath your thick cotton coat. you return his stick to his mouth, his tail waggling quickly from side to side whilst his eyes light up at the sight of his wooden friend.

ben hooks his arm to yours again, burying his chin into his coat. as the four of you start to walk back home, crunching your way through the think snow mason whines. "Can I hold his lead now?" you both look at him, unable to read if he was being serious. suddenly, mason bursts into hysteria once more, pointing at the pair of you.

"Honestly, your faces." he chuckles, dimples showing.

"But seriously, next time it's my turn."

[movnts]

christmas tree farm - mason mount

fluff, just pure fluff

hands stuffed in mittens you wrapped your forearm around mason’s, letting your head lull on the ball of his shoulder as he mumbled about how mulled wine shouldn't work but it just did. the air was bitter, wispy clouds of breath evaporating into the night with every word he spoke. you were half-listening, cheek squished against the thick material of his puffer jacket; your vision dawdling on the rows of rosy-cheeked carol singers, their voices brash but comforting.

it was moments like this that mason wanted to capture forever; encapsulate it in a festive snowglobe and keep it for the rest of his waking life. you were drenched in stark sodium lights, sparkling from the line of christmas trees that created a festive barrier from the rest of the bustling city-centre. it was cold, the tip of mason’s nose tinted rose as he dragged the palm of his free hand over the skin once in a while in an attempt to keep it from freezing over.

“we should get one like that!” you nodded your head in the direction of a towering tree, the branches blinking back in gold, vermillion and green.a small smile spread across the lips of mason, head cocked to the side as he allowed his mind to wander to a mental image of the both of you trying to fit a tree that was far too big for the living-room ceiling. your chin tilted upwards, your hot breath fanning over his features as you struggled to hide the childish grin that had settled in the corners of your mouth.

it had become a type of relationship ritual, the both of you hooking arms and wandering aimlessly through the london christmas market with eyes the size of saucers and scarves wrapped tightly around your necks. your feet would trace the same route from the years before; mason’s head bobbing along to a warbled cover of a christmas -pop hit, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion as he’d mumble the wrong words with incredible confidence.

his lips were laced with the faint taste of cinnamon, soft and flush against yours as he pulled you in closer by the knot of your patterned scarf. he slotted against you so perfectly, tongue lapping at your bottom lip as he sucked it slightly. you wanted to stay like this forever, caught in each other's mouths, the cold stinging every exposed part of your body as a few sheepish people stepped around you with whispered apologies.

“you taste like mulled wine.” your words came out in a soft giggle, head ducked as you slipped your hands into your coat pocket. your stance mirrored those all around you, their laughter getting tossed and lost in the thick air above you.

his gloved hand waved the half-empty cup of hot wine in front of your face, his fingers tender against the plastic. a shake of your head allows his hand to drop back to his side, palm flush against the rim as he pouted playfully under the twinkling strings of lights that hung from lamppost to lamppost. the curve of his nose was illuminated by the gleam of decorations, eyes crinkling at the sides as he watched the way you shuffled under his intense gaze through curled eyelashes.

“i love you…” mason’s voice was hushed, barely audible above the buzz that lingered around you. His tongue ran over his bottom lip, sitting pretty in the corner of his mouth. it had become a habit of his that you soon caught onto; a sign of deep concentration, or a cheeky sign to show he was thinking of you. you ducked your head, unsure whether it was a blush or the sharpness of the wind that was creeping over the fullness of your cheeks.

“i love you.” you confirmed, the words rolling from your tongue like a daily mantra and consuming mason’s mind like a comforting blanket, numbing every thought apart from you.