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someonegoood · 1 year ago

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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 2 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which life does not go on after Mason breaks your heart over and over again. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 2 ! Mason made his first goal for United and I'm emotional 💞 I'll do part 3 later

taglist: @dreamingofautopia @xjval @sunflower-tia @sad-fridge2323 @girlidekanymore @borbolwra3

Chelsea added to their story.

Your phone notified you, immediately dampening your mood. Everything was related to him.

It’s been two months since Mason shattered your heart after that nightmare of a night. The funny thing is that a part of you didn’t hate him, a part of you that still loved him existed.

You had waited for him to text you to ask how you were and if you were free to hang out. And by the time you realized that he wasn’t going to, it was too late… too awkward for you to ask as well. So, both of you had resorted to ignorance and hostility.

Life eventually went on, even though you had cut one of the most important people out of your life. And you’d see yourself by night, in your dreams. All these faces in the crowded city of London, and for some reason, you’d still try to find his. Mason was no longer yours.

Although he never was.

The first time Mason saw you after that night was a couple of months later, at a family lunch. The two families —Mounts and yours—had united in your family's garden for a little lunch to catch up on life. You had turned twenty and Lyon was old news.

But Mason’s eyes were stuck on your body as he watched you sit between his sister and your brother just before him. Sipping from a glass of wine that you most likely didn’t like, he glanced at you.

Your brother had brought his new girlfriend with him and even though you were still as close as ever, his attention was on the pretty blonde talking to your nanny.

Mason had spent so much of his life avoiding you, but after the night of the party, he just wanted to make sure you were okay. Although he just couldn’t.

—Dear, will you serve me a little piece of that cake? —Your mother had her plate in her hand, waiting for Mason to react. It took him about five seconds to come out of his trance and then he served her what she had ordered.

He was too busy thinking about you.

—So, Mason… when is your next match? Your dad told me you were playing for England. —Your mom tried to lighten up the mood since you were not bickering with Mason as you were on other occasions.

Mason smiled up while you looked at him and caught a glimpse of his beautiful Cheshire cat smile.

—I’m playing next week, on Sunday… —He looked around at everyone and proceeded. —You are all invited, of course.

After an hour or two, everyone stood up, scattering around the decorated garden. Mason grabbed his phone from the table and headed to the kitchen in search of a beer.

In the background, the voices of the two families blurred together as you finished washing your plate. Both Mount sisters were busy playing card games with their mother and your brother was having a talk about politics, which you were not at all interested in. You had no one to talk to.

Suddenly, you feel someone behind you trying to open the refrigerator. That bloody refrigerator, which, being so old, could not be opened correctly. You turned around, not expecting to see Mason looking at you.

You headed to the refrigerator to open it, so Mason moved from where he was previously standing, leaning on the kitchen counter. You gave the refrigerator a little kick and it opened.

—Thanks… —He said grabbing the beer, the tension being palpable in the air. After a long pause, you continued:

—How are you? —you asked, he could feel your eyes staring into his side profile, but he stared at the sun setting over the British landscape.

—I’m alright.

Scoring some scarce points with Chelsea has become almost impossible under a year ago now, and you really felt sorry for him, knowing everything he and his team put in.

—How are you holding up? —you stood next to him, nudging his shoulder with yours, before looking down at the floor. You felt the look of pity that Mason was giving you, but you tried to ignore it.

—Thank you, really.

—Mase...

He looked in your eyes this time, he looked so sad, so broken. So desperate for a hug. You didn’t pressure him to answer your question, instead, you gently placed your head on his shoulder looking along the garden in silence.

—It will be alright, you know. —He hummed, knowing you were still hurt because of what he had said.

—I know. —You whispered back. —And don't worry much about scoring, in the least expected moments your shot is the one that serves the most.

He hated how much you believed him because at that moment he felt like the six-year-old boy with dreams bigger than the world itself, who thought everything was possible.

Mason looked down at you, the smile on his lips was enough to melt your heart, and threw his head back in a laugh.

—I don't think I’m ever getting rid of you.

Now it was your turn to laugh. After all the laughing he noticed how your eyes shifted from his own to his lips, and then he remembered why he was avoiding you in the first place. He did a face.

—I know, I know. —You said with a sad look on your face.

—You know I’m too old for you, right? —Mason whispered as he leaned his forehead on yours.

—I’m in it for the long game, Mount.

It felt like your heart was twisting and stuttering, sometimes beating too quickly that you were afraid it was going to push you over the edge. You wanted him to notice, to do something to fix it.

Time went on flying, the last few days being hectic. It was already Sunday and today Mason was playing with England and obviously, you were more than proud. He had invited your brother —his best friend—, you and your family to watch him from the special box for family and friends.

The cold air hits your face as soon as you enter the box with your family. Excited, you see Debbie and Tony, and their children already seated. You were so nervous that your hands were even sweating.

You sit next to Stacey, Mason's older sister. She gives you a smile.

—Nervous about the game? —she asks.

—A bit, yes... —you say as you settle down, your eyes scanning the pitch, looking for him. For Mason.

—This should be an easy game, England has a better team.

—You never know. —you reply. You were almost freezing, you only had the basic England t-shirt on.

Stacey noticed that you were shivering from the cold and decided to take off the sweatshirt she had tied around her shoulders. She put it on your lap and smiled.

—Put it on, otherwise, you'll freeze to death here. —she said, laughing.

—I'm... —You said about to deny it. For a second, you thought about the cold that you would catch without the sweatshirt, so you decided to take it. —Oh, never mind.

The sweatshirt was white and had his number and surname printed on the front, in a blue font. This made you remember the uncountable times when you stole Mason's sweatshirts just to have his number on you.

Stacey, without you seeing, grabbed her phone and texted his brother: "Just wanted to say that she's here and she's got your name on her sweatshirt. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you."

All of a sudden, Summer, Mason's niece, came up to you asking if she could sit in your lap to have a better look at the pitch. It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you, as she had grown up seeing your brother and you in the Mount household.

—Look over there, Summer! There is your uncle. —said Stacey, and both Summer and you looked over to where the players were entering the enormous pitch. There he was, beautiful as always.

The whistle was blown and the match started. Everyone was immersed in the excitement of the box, watching the match carefully. The atmosphere was electric, and each second increased the tension.

—Yes! —You screamed when Mason's friend, Declan, scored the opening goal, feeling your heart beat against your chest rapidly. Summer looked up at you with wide eyes, before she started giggling. You smiled and leaned down to where she was and kissed her on the forehead.

The second half started and your eyes only followed Mason running up and down the pitch. Only one goal was scored in the whole 45 minutes of the first half, that being Declan's goal.

Abruptly, Stones stole the ball from a player on the opposing team. He ran alone, jumped over some defenders and, feinting, the ball passed to Henderson on the right side. He analyzed the position of the players spread around the pitch before passing it to Foden, who was almost close to the goal.

He passed it to Mason and he, avoiding the players, aimed and kicked with all his strength.

The world went silent for a moment. He had scored.

After realizing that he had scored a goal, Mason ran to the end of the field, right where you were. The atmosphere was pure shouting, people jumping and celebrating but you only had eyes for Mason.

He looked towards the box looking for those who truly love him and just at that precise moment, you connected glances. With a shaky breath, you stood up from your seat and waved to him, also trying to hold Summer up with your other arm.

Mason's heart melted when he saw that scene and many things went through his head: he couldn't believe he had scored a goal after so long and he also couldn't believe how beautiful you looked with his niece in your arms.

In celebration, he pointed to both of you and you could only sigh in love. The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for England.

As soon as he stepped into the box, he scanned the room for you, but Summer caught him off guard.

—Uncle Mase! —she ran toward him and he picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.

—My favourite person! —His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in days, but you looked prettier than usual.

You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was love from him and for that, you haven't slept well in the days after the family lunch with the Mount's.

—I played well, all thanks to you. —He kissed her head and his niece giggled. The little girl ran toward her mother and then closed the door, leaving you and Mason all alone. Your family had congratulated Mason before and told you they were waiting outside.

—How have you been? —His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something.

—Mason! —you laughed. —You just scored a tremendous goal for England and you ask me how am I? Sometimes I don't understand you.

—Alright, alright. You have a point! —he laughed, definitely not missing those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy.

His gaze searched yours with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He scratched the back of his neck and then looked at your sweatshirt with his surname and number.

His number looked very good on you, he thought.

He gazed at your lips and he came dangerously close to you. You stepped back, hitting the table. Mason was looking straight into your eyes when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and sat you on the table. You let out a little squeal. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to pull him close and kiss him passionately.

—We-we should go. —you said, clearing your throat. —Your family is waiting.

Quickly, Mason grabbed your wrist.

—Mase... You don’t have feelings. You don’t have a heart.

Now he’s frowning as he tries to unravel your words. His breath hitches.

—I feel things… —your heart twirls with the way his voice sounds. You had always loved his voice. How croaky it was. But you never imagined that it would turn your entire world upside down to hear him say that.

Pushing his hand down, you look back, weak and concerned. He worries you might have suddenly regretted all of this. That you would walk away and never want to talk to him ever again.

What he didn't know is that he's everything you were imagining those long nights… he had never kissed you, not even touched you.

—It’s okay if you want to stop- —he said, while you slid your hands under his t-shirt. Running up and down your hands through his lower torso, you felt his abs contract.

—Mount, I'm certain that I'm okay. —you said, giggling. He smirked. Your core grows tighter with his expressions, now holding onto his broad shoulders.

Unexpectedly, you both heard from behind the closed door someone shout: —Mate, are you there? The party starts at ten, hurry!

Fuck. That was your brother.

Mason had completely forgotten about the party in honour of their win. How the fuck was he getting out of that room with a hard-on? He had to calm himself.

You, on the other side, felt your heart falls into pieces. You thought about how long you had waited for this exact moment, every time you gave your endless hope all you ended up doing was bleeding. And this time, not only he was about to leave you alone but he was going to leave you turned on.

—I'm-I'm sorry... —he said, exiting quickly from the room.

After that match, you only heard from Mason through your brother. He had told you that after the match, at the party, Mason had rejected every girl who appeared to flirt with him.

Apparently, you've had an effect on him.

Mason hated how his heartbeat boomed in his ear when he saw you standing in his parents' house, with a blue shirt that had printed out the number 19 on the back, hugging your figure.

You had blossomed into a beautiful young woman, you had for sure gone through puberty. He didn’t like to stare but he found it hard not to sometimes. Especially on family boat trips when you would wear a bikini in front of him.

—So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at home?

You took a minute to understand. —What?

—The game, remember? We're having lunch here and then driving up to watch the game. —Said your brother, while getting on the boat. About three weeks had passed since you almost kissed Mason and now you were about to hop on the Mount's boat in Portsmouth.

You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversations with your brother, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about that night which was, in a way, kind of relieving.

Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that your family was coming over. But when his sister sent him a text saying that your family would join him before his game, he was flabbergasted.

You both hadn't spoken since the night of the win, but you both were thinking about that interaction since then. To forget that incident, he had spoken to one of his best friends, Ben, in search of a solution.

—Mate, what you need is a good fling. Maybe you should invite someone next time you're going on a family boat day —said Ben, laughing because of what Mason was asking him.

You got on Mason's boat, feeling heavy-hearted once again. After an hour, you were seated on the floor, helping Stacey with a puzzle, after your mom expelled you from the kitchen when trying to help her. Meanwhile, Mason and his mother sat down on the couch.

—She has grown into a beautiful woman, don't you think? —His mom said teasingly, already knowing that you were not the only one fallen for someone.

—Yes, she has. —He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his sister had said. —Mom... I think I fucked up.

—If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here.

—No mom, I really- —Mason got interrupted by the entrance of a tall, dark-eye, skinny blond, almost gotten out from a runway. She turned toward Mason and presented herself as Daphne, a friend. Debbie now understood why her son said he had fucked up really bad.

Your brother, seeing Daphne —the supposed fling of Mason— talking with him, turned to you.

—Forget your stuff, let’s just get off this boat. Don’t turn around okay? —his hands gripping strongly your shoulders. He knew how much you liked his best friend.

You laughed and followed your brother down the steps of the boat before stopping in your tracks.

—Since when have I ever listened to you? Dear God, I- — Your mouth fell open as you turned around to be met with Mason and his mother, and the presence of a girl that looked like an actual model.

She was leaning on him and he was laughing at whatever she had to say, while Debbie looked at you with pity. You felt like he had personally ripped your heart out, for a hundred times.

—You knew?

Your brother sighed before running his hands through his hair: —She's only a side thing, a one-time fling. I mean she’s not you, but he decided to find someone before Christmas. —He shrugged his shoulders and you felt the rage creeping up your body.

—What about me? When will I be happy? —you said, crying.

That sentence broke your brother's heart.

19 years to be exact, that's the time you've been waiting for him.

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ethereal555 · 2 months ago

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CHEETAH ! PART ONE

virgil van dijk x black!reader

essentially virgil is a cheetah in this.

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His matte black Mercedes pulls up into your driveway. Just like routine, he flashes his lights twice.

It acted as a greeting - he always assumed I was watching like a nervous little girl. I always was though; like a kid at Christmas in hopes of catching Santa.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, you can damn near hear it in your ears. In a daze, you turn quickly to observe yourself in the mirror. As a result your cheetah print robe falls losely around your chocolate frame. The robe framed your pear shaped figure well, exposing your black lace push up bra that made your cleavage pop out. The matching black lace panties you wore on show also, and you had to admit the way it elegantly sat on your wide hips was to die for.

It goes without saying that he loved your body, like a dog and its bone. Let alone when you had it oiled up for him, waiting for him - like a meal.

You tie your robe around you so that only your cleavage was on show. For now. You admired the way in which it cinched your waist. And you took time to admire the way you looked - as a whole - in the reflection before you.

There was always a sense of pride that floated within you, when you looked at yourself. Not in a cocky way but because you invested in yourself : in how you ate, bathed, the products you used, the perfume you used, the quality of hair you bought and the clothes you wore.

This drew Virgil to you, you were a young woman with an advanced sense of maturity; a quality possessed by no one your age. You knew what you wanted, got it and then attracted people who were likewise - like himself.

Your naturally coily type 4 hair that would usually sit on your collar bone was now bone straight and hanging down your shoulders, different from the last time he saw you. It was the month of October and therefore in your world, silk press season. Virgil loved your curly hair. He worshipped it and you did too but, during the months of winter where it was usually very hectic - because of the annual buzz of your shapewear business - you knew having your hair in this state was easier to manage and would be less time cosuming.

You run your fingers through your hair, shamelessly flexing your hang-time in the mirror until you hear your door bell ring, a notification popping up on your phone that read,

Virgil

im at the door :)

You take your time walking towards the door not wanting to look out of breath when you were face to face with him but, also due to a part of you burdened with jealousy. You hadn’t seen this man since last month, September 3rd to be exact. It was now October 29th. You missed him dearly and wanted to really spend this time with him wholesomely but the inferno of jealousy burning within you seemed to be overpowering your mind as you got closer and closer to the door.

Seeing his signature manbun through the glass panel on your door made your heart skip a beat. Logically it wouldn’t be fair to express your selfish feelings about his lack of communication with you as you were involved with an occupied man who had both a wife and multiple kids; especially during these autumn months when his kids were starting back at school.

You both were in a difficult position, him mostly as he had the most to lose and you because of your dignity. You’d never usually go for someone married or with kids as to do so you’d need to bare an innate sense of maturity to cooperate in those situations but with Virgil it was how he treated you that drew you to him. Hell, how he looked at you alone would make you fall to your knees. The gifts he showered you with; the cars, the jewels, the houses, the sex and the bags were big tokens of love for a girl like me. As a 22 year old girl, there weren’t men my age with these capabilities, so you can imagine I was immediately onboard.

It was addicting; the disguising, the private jets, the meeting at hotels, the sense of mystery he brought to your life. The ‘on edge’ feeling, it riled you. It enlivened you. Not to mention way he fucked you, rough and hard and senseless somedays and then when he would make love to your pussy with his tongue and fingers on other days.

How aggressive he was with you, it enticed you. It brought a sense of danger, a feeling you lacked in your life.

You know it did say a lot about your character, but from your perspective you were young and allowed to make mistakes. You deserved to be loved, and in your head life was too short to miss out on this experience of “love” or lust. Not many people your age could claim an experience like this so you embraced it, even when parts of you knew there was potential for this to be a short-lived rollercoaster ride.

There were boundaries that I intentially set with Virgil when we first started seeing each other. I no longer wanted him to sleep with his wife, especially because he was sleeping with, unprotected at that. This was something that “showed my age” he always said and something he often dismissed as me “trying to start with him'”. But I swore to him, if I was to ever see any evidence of them sleeping together, we would have a problem. Gladly, I feel he is listening, he has spoken about their sexual spark diminishing ever since having kids and to support this; his sex drive with me is insane in a way it wouldn't be if he was sexually active with her.

He knocks again, breaking me out of my deep ponder.

You exhale, opening the door wide enough for him to enter. He ducked, walking through the door way, his hair as always slicked back not a fly away in sight. He wore a black crew neck shirt and black baggy joggers, and a silver cuban link that adnored his chest.

He knew what his chains did to you.

You sway your hips into your kitchen leaving him in the doorway his mouth agape, his mind racing not able to verablise how good he thought you looked.

He follows you into the kitchen like a lost puppy. The smell of vanilla invading his nostrils both from you and the candles you’d lit throughout the house. He looks around, his eyes admiring the new rugs you'd bought whilst you went to collect your green juice from the fridge. A nightly ritual you underwent.

“You don’t wanna give me a hug?” His deep voice sounds, the bass in his voice drawing you to look at him as you drank the entirety on your juice, hiding your smirk behind the bottle.

He eyes you back, his intimidating eyes falling from yours to your cleavage, and back up again appreciating how good you looked behind the kitchen island, your breasts spilling out of your robe. The older man walks up to you, standing behind your body. Your 5’7 self nothing in comparison to his 6'5 goodness. He lands his cold fingers on your collar bone rubbing them in circular motions. He hums, the vibration heading straight down your body.

You breathe in and out deeply, your eyes rolling back. Putting the bottle down, you turn around to face him not before making sure your plump bum rubbed up against him. You embrace his rock solid physique.

His firm hands travel down the length of your silk pressed hair, “Where are you curls Ameena?” he queried trying to find your eye contact.

You sigh at the memory, pushing them back and standing firm in your nonchalance.

“Not here” you muffled into his chest.

Feeling his body against yours brought out the feline in you, it needed to be studied. This cat like feeling manifests as you drag your fingers up and down his back inhaling in his intoxicating fragrance.

His chin lands on the crown of your head. “I’ve missed that attitude.”

The storm that had once subsided was back, you draw back fast, smacking at his chest. “Where have you been? Of course you’ve missed me, you haven’t bothered to see me in ages' you complained, your upper lip raised in irritation.

“I’ve been busy, klein mesije” he drags pulling you back towards him by your waist.

“Yeah doing what? Playing house? At award ceremonies with that b- woman -” you collect yourself pointing at his chest with your index finger, the nonchalant facade had faded. “holding umbrellas for her and shit? You didn’t even check on me to see how I felt after seeing that all over the internet. Or check on me in general for that matter!”

“Ameena-” he chuckles at your absurdity as he swipes his hands over his face.

'And no, sending me money isn't a form of communication', you rebute, crossing your arms over you chest in an act of dominance which actually had the complete opposite effect because now his focus was on your twin giriles that were sat even higher than before on your glistening chest.

“So you wanted me to bring you as my plus one? And how would that outcome be, Ameena?” he spoke softly to your suprise. He usually got very defensive with these topics, maybe he really did miss you.

“You’re on punishment, you should never go more than a week without talking to me. It makes me feel disposable and used. You claim we have more than just sexual chemistry - an emotional connection - yet you chose to ignore my existence. This is what I mean - this is why I couldn’t have that - no - why i can't have a baby with you.”

A crash of realisation paralyses you. You attempt to renege on what you had said but it’s too late as you see his head cock to the side almost instantaneously.

You hurriedly walk to the other end of the kitchen island towards the entrace of your living room in mortification, feeling his eyes follow your silhouette.

This was a low blow from you, throughout the 2 year entanglement, he had attempted many times to 'give you his son', to which you always profusely refused - you just weren't ready. He'd get offended saying that you were unserious, this whole saga stopped when you started taking birth control meaning he could cum in you. He doesn't know this, what he thinks is that you're now willing to have kids with him. The con regarding this temporoary victory was that you didn't know how you'd address him when 5 months down the line he asks 'why aren't you pregnant yet' .

His eyebrows furrow, a moment of realisation prominent in his expression. 'What did you say, Ameena?" he shot back.

There he was, the man we usually see on the field. You had no choice but to berate yourself, you couldn't keep your gob shut! The fibres in your body stopped moving for half a second. The world felt still until you spewed out some words to escape from the deafening silence.

'I said, you should never neglect me like this again or it's done.' you rush, knowing exactly where you'd taken this conversation to.

'No. After that..'

" I - I Listen Virgil if you're in the mood to argue you should leave, you should be making it up to me right now not grilling me. You are in the wrong, admit it." Your confident attempt to gaslight him fell upon deaf ears. You begin to strut off, not wanting to deal with the can of worms you had opened up or it was going to be a long night. You hoped nothing of the sort would happen.

You never thought you were one of those girls, the type to tell on themselves in the presence of a man.

'No Ameena. Come. Here” he forefingers beckon. “That’s right, one step at a time”.

You retreat towards the island. You lean both elbows on your kitchen island. “What!?” you question unenthuiastically, itching in trepidation.

"You're being disrespectful, you know how I feel about you walking away from me. Don't do it again." He walks towards you, licking his lips slowly. Slut, you screamed in your head.

"Stand up straight" he ordered following your movement with his eyes, his chin raised. You stay in this position, side eyeing him as he walks closer to you.

He grumbles with clenched teeth.

He latches onto your arms, pulling you into his chest, your back slamming against his front.

"Ow, Virgil" you grimace.

“You’re going to do whatever the hell I tell you to do” he rasped into you ear, you feel his left hand circle around your neck. You wince, trying to wringle yourself out of his embrace.

“When I want you to have my kids, you will. I'll make you the mother of my kids. Will you stop me?" you shake your head, a moan escaping your mouth as you fight to wriggle out of his nasty grasp.

"Use your words, Ameena"

“Ok Virgil!” you answer desperately, craining your neck upwards to loosen his hold on your neck. He keeps his hand there, walking you both closer to the island, so your bare stomach is pressed against the cold marble of the counter. Your robe, in the process of your tussle with Virgil, had unravelled.

''Virgil, my hair!" you cry like a brat in fear of all the tussling ruining your silk press.

"I don't care. Say you're sorry.' you gasp.

Now he held both your hands behind your back as if you were a hostage. With ever second that passed and you were silent, he manhandled your body in a different way.

Ten seconds had passed of silence so he pulled your robe off, earning a hiss from you when the cold marble met your skin.

"So thats the only thing you heard, I literally expressed my sorrow regarding us not speaking and the only thing you caputured was that I wouldnt have your babies?" you grit out kissing your teeth in disgust.

A stinging sensation, illicits a mini scream from your lips.

"Say you're sorry!" he repeated loudly.

The reality was, you weren't sorry. In fact, that was the most truthful thing you'd ever said to him. You didn't see him divoricng his wife anytime soon, and to have a baby with a secret woman, would in return make the baby a secret; yes you were flawed butyou wouldn't dare bring a child into that type of situatipn. It wouldnt be fair.

"I'm sorry Virg. I'm cold" you whisper.

'Louder.'

"I'm sorry!"you shout. "thats so humiliating Virgil" you mutter.

"Good girl' he kisses your back, slapping your ass one more time before letting you get up.

You stand, scoffing, being naked in the kitchen always seemed to happen whilst he was here. This man, you complained in your head, what have I gotten myself into for crying out loud.

"Pick up my robe" you ordered and like a dog he does as told. I think it's because he knew I was no longer in the mood as I hated when he dominated me like that during arguments. It made me feel weak.

"Next time, use your manners" he scolds scratching his goatee, I know it took everything in him to not cuss me out for speaking to him like that.

"Really though. For real, I will not have a kid with someone who doesn't contact me when they're away from me, and who keeps me as a second option. everytime. It gives deadbeat. I know you'd hate for me to find someone he doesn't do that", you finish tieing knot around your waist.

Virgil's jaw ticks for the second time this night, he swallows the anger he feels rising up so he could articulate himself without yelling at the young girl. She hated it.

"Ameena. Don't be silly, were you not just upset with me because I was not contacting you a lot? Why do you think that was? I was doing the opposite of what you have just accused me to be. I was being a father. I was spending time with my kids, who are most important to me. How dare you call me a deadbeat".

He turns around.

A breathe gets caught in your throat, but it's forced to stay there as he continues his speech. "This is what I mean when I say you show your age, you complain about me not seeing you and not texting you for days at a time as if you don't know how much my kids mean to me.”

"You really shouldn't complain about being a second option in regard to them. That’s my family, my everything . You will always be a second option - you knew what you were getting yourself into."

Nothing comes to your brain not a rebutal, nothing. The reality that was your situation dawns upon you. You felt as if common sense had only entered into you at the start of his latter speech. Clouds of humiliation hover over you.

His words had sucked the breathe of you. He was right, you couldn't interrupt a man's life and then claim first place.

You walk to stand infront of him, your voice small. This was the first time, in ages, he had made you feel like what you were, a little girl. "So, if I have your babies, would they, as well as I, still be a second option?".

His face is stoic, the horny and playful vibe that was once in the room had dissipated. “No, they'd be equal. But since I am such a deadbeat - what was the need for the question. You already have an assumption of me lodged in your brain, no?"

“My baby” you thought, he didn't show it but you knew he was upset. He blinked often, trying to conceal the disappointment in his eyes.

You press your chest on his, the urge to be in his embrace triumphing. You attempt to wrap his heavy arms around your waist.

“I'm sorry, truly. The comment was audacious and immature . I didn’t mean it. You're an amazing father, it’s just that the reality of having your babies seem so near, and its daunting Virgil. I was just projecting my fears”.

His arms fall back to his sides as soon as you let go of them, as if his arms were dead.

The sense of disheartment you felt wasn't going to prevail. In this moment, just like other moments you both had shared, you felt the only way to express your sorrow was to initiate something sexual. It usually worked, but this time you weren't sure.

You look up at him your chin snuggled onto his chest,whining..

"Daddy, I'm so so sorry..." you bite at his crew neck pulling your head back. He liked it when you acted like this, desperate. And in this case there was no acting, you were despearte to be in his good books again.

To your suprise he is looking back down on you, earning your heart a little jump, the eye contact felt intimidating. "Virgieeeee" you drag, puckering your lips on your tip toes. Vocalising your fustration of not being able to reach his lips, despite being on your tip toes with a small cry.

A nasty thought springs into mind, your heart racing as you predict the outcome. You untie the cheetah printed robe, making sure to not lose eye contact with the man. Aroused, you pull your perky breasts out of your lace push up bra squeezing them for him, enjoying the sensations of your needy hands on them.

A barley audible groan sounds from his throat as you collect saliva in your mouth allowing it to dribble down to your twins. You loudly suck the remaining dribble back into your mouth.

Virgil's eyes darken, a little quiver underneath his left eye. He tucks his bottom lip underneath his teeth fully entraced in what you were doing. You pinch your wet nipples, causing your chest to involuntarily rise.

"virgil, i'm ready, look, so why aren't you saying anything?" you whisper in a small small voice.

"You can do me however you want .. however." you plead, your wide eyes pleading alongside your words and voice.

"Get upstairs. Now".

---

I apologise for any typos. pt.2coming soon

xxxx

115 notes · View notes

12amintoronto · 10 days ago

Text

𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ... omar marmoush x reader 📖🩵

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wc: 1.5k

synopsis: you're in the midst of your final exams for the school year, and you're totally locked into your books and notes... but your boyfriend omar is craving your love and attention big time.

contents: absolute fluff, sfw, female uni student reader (any major), established bf/gf, clingy omar, did i mention fluff? like way too sweet fluff?

notes: its finals season here at uoft and all across the ends of the earth - tysm for the request anon and may the lord accompany u all in your studies 🩵🩵

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finals season - where you felt your strength and determination for all that you do in school... letting you know that all of the work that you've been so committed to has been paying off. with each note you look, and each bit of knowledge you gained, you were a step closer to that degree with your very name on it.

you decided that you try and make the most out of this exam season - and you set up your spaces for studying in a way that would make cramming for your upcoming exams almost joyous, relaxing, and self-fulfilling.

and of course, nothing else brought you more peace than the comfort of you and your boyfriend omar's home.

you cosied up at the kitchen island, lights set warm, with a variety of your books, your laptop, along with your memo book, the pages inside decorated with the handwriting and highlighter designs that were so unique to you, writing about disciplines of all sorts. you made yourself a tea which you sipped momentarily, and wore one of omar's hoodies which was much too big on you. the one that he always softens when faced with the sight of you wearing it.

your eyes flitted between all of your course materials, and your mind was at work. it felt almost as if you were programmed for all things final exam related in this very moment for you were so focused. it was the romanticism that you could get out of studying that made it an enjoyable experience.

as you were in the middle of creating a glossary for your history elective class, you could hear footsteps, none other than omar's, slowly padding your way. he had just finished engaging in a bit of active recovery, as it was much needed after the intense match that he played - scored a goal - and won at the etihad just the other day, hosting leicester.

you looked up from beneath your lashes as omar walked around the kitchen island to face right across from you.

it was undeniable that he was looking good... and you could tell that he was feeling himself. his top? gone. it left you looking at all the gorgeous footballer muscle that he had from the hips up. he was just a little bit glowy from sweat, and his goatee looked so crisp.

"habibti~" omar chimed softly, titling his head similar to the way a puppy just wanting some attention would.

"hi, baby." you replied, estimatingly giving him only a quarter of the attention that he was hoping for. you didn't know fully just yet how clingy he was about to become, though. "how was your workout?"

omar leant forward, closer to you as he lowered his elbows down onto the kitchen countertop, resting his forearms there, taut from the lighter yet substantial weightlifting he had been doing.

"it was good. did some stretching, just a little bit of weights. some curls too - i know how much you love my arms, sweetie."

you scoffed playfully at his cockiness, which came off smooth as always. you looked up at him just a second more before you brought your attention back to your studying.

omar, on the other hand, pouted. if your eyes weren't on your course materials, but on him, then you'd be folding already, for he looked too cute doing it.

he pushed up off of the countertop before walking halfway around its perimeter to finally meet you. "how's my smart girl?"

"i'm doing very well."

"mmm... so studious" he whispered like a prayer softly, already snaking his arms around your waist. "mind taking a break for your man?"

you sighed, knowing that for omar, this was about to be a battle for your attention - you could sense trouble.

you shook your head softly, not wanting to come out of your full academic weapon mode. "i'm really focused right now, baby. i promise we'll spend me and you time today, though."

he let out a quiet groan, wishing that he could just have his way with you. it was time he'd set out on this mission for his girl's attention.

omar squeezed your hip softly before his hands left your sides, as he walked on over to the other side of the kitchen to pour himself a refreshing glass of ice water. once he had it poured up and in hand, he took a sip and licked his lips before setting his glass down on the island gently before leaning right beside you.

"don't you miss me, sweetheart?" he said in a soft voice, making puppy eyes at you. it was a shame that you were so focused that you didn't notice.

"of course i do. just one more page, okay?"

omar rolled his eyes subtly, for he still wasn't finished making a fuss about wanting your attention.

as far as you had all these exams and tests to prepare for, he was so hung up on the fact that it was his patience being tested the greatest.

he had just the trick in his mind, though. he was so sure it would work - so he shifted even closer to where you were sitting.

"say one of your smart sentences to me, habibti. i love it when you explain things."

you actually didn't think twice about it, for "teaching" another person about a subject you were focusing on was in fact a way that you found helped you study. you began to go on about the 17th century england's exclusion crisis... whigs and tories... things of all sorts in that period of time. he nodded along, until he leant in to kiss your cheek.

it made you giggle, but you shook your head. "let me finish, though~"

omar played innocent, as if he didn't just make that attempt to steal away your attention.

you continued to eloquently explain the historical ordeal, omar couldn't help but be so enamoured. it's one of his favourite things about you, how smart you are. not just the fact that he thinks you're very smart, but that he believes you're one of the smartest people he has ever known.

and while you continued, getting to an important point in the summary of the history you were trying to explain...

...he dipped his head to kiss your neck.

"omar."

he pulled away reluctantly. "babyyy... i'm just... encouraging your brain! you know...? i heard that kisses really spur one's mind..."

"yeah, spur one's mind to other places, that is." you muttered. once again, you turned your attention back to your studying, your nose practically in the books.

omar was hopeless. he laid his head on your shoulder and allowed him arms to loop around your waist, hugging you from behind even tighter than before. "habibti, pleaseee. you've been working so hard."

"because i want to do well."

"my love, you already impress me every day."

your heart warmed in the best way possible as omar told you that. you tried to hide from him, turning your face towards your studying, but omar wasn't stopping. he buried his face into your neck, practically whining.

"i'm so proud of you, you're the best student," he began before pleading, "a break. just five minutes. please?"

you were hesitant at first, but his cuteness was only weakening you... and your concern for studying was fading all because of your boyfriend's cuteness. you thought it couldn't get any better until the quietest words hit you in that egyptian accent.

"...please, my smart girl?"

your fingers gently reached for the seam of your laptop's screen before closing it down with a careful motion. omar's face lit up, and he smiled. it wasn't long before he scooped you up into his arms easily and brought you to the sofa in the living room, laying down with you... pulling a blanket over the both of your bodies while pulling you into his chest for a cuddle, nuzzling your hair.

you playfully protested, "but baby, i'm going to fall asleep like this-"

"shhh..." he murmured, reaching to softly stroke some stray strands of hair away from your face. "just recharge a little..."

tucked away into omar's loving arms, he was right after all. your mind needs a break... and what better way to spend a break with your sweet omar?

laying there with him really reinforced the gratitude you always had instilled within you. not just for the fact that you're getting such an amazing education, but that you have the sweetest, most loving and caring support system - your man, omar.

"i'll always compete with the world to have you, habibti...

...but never will i stop cheering for you."

you could feel his beard gently tickle your cheek as he smiled against it after speaking. your heart was full and so was his.

these cuddles with omar were what the rest of the evening into the night entailed... and you love it.

you, the independent beauty with brains... the ultimate weakness to your baller of a boyfriend.

66 notes · View notes

itsgiovanna · 23 days ago

Text

playing for love (chapter 8)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: since i got more time to write, here's another oneeee!!! hope you love it 🤍

word count: 5.7k

warnings: just a lot of teasing, hehe.

next: chapter 9 (soon)

tag list: @avalentina @a1leexxa

The restaurant, Saray Garden, a lively Turkish eatery on the corner of the street, radiated warmth. Mosaic lanterns dangled from the ceiling, casting colorful patterns on the walls. The scent of freshly baked pita and sizzling kebabs filled the air. Golden cushions and vibrant rugs added to the cozy, bustling atmosphere. Families gathered around low tables, laughter mingling with the hum of conversations.

"This place is amazing." Debbie said, her eyes scanning the intricate wall tiles. "Good choice, Mason."

"I’ve got my moments." Mason replied with a grin, holding the door open as his family stepped inside.

Adeline lingered for a second, feeling the slightest twinge of nerves. But Mason caught her eye, offering a small reassuring smile. She nodded, clutching Lily’s hand tightly.

"We’ll be fine." he murmured as she passed him.

The hostess led them to a round table near a window, where sunlight poured in, illuminating the colorful platters of mezze being carried by the waitstaff. Mason pulled out a chair for Adeline before taking his seat, while Lily settled beside her.

"This is beautiful." Adeline said, scanning the space. "I haven’t had Turkish food in ages."

"Then you’re in for a treat." Tony chimed in. "Mason’s obsessed with this place. He thinks he’s a food critic now."

"Don’t be jealous, Dad. Not everyone has my refined taste." Mason smirked.

"Refined?" Jaz scoffed. "You’re the guy who puts ketchup on everything. Even rice."

"Okay, that happened one time." Mason argued. "And in my defense, I was starving after the match."

Laughter echoed around the table. Mason glanced at Adeline, his smile lingering. He liked the way she laughed, the way it softened her. And for a moment, he forgot about the world outside this table.

"So, how’s he been as a patient?" Debbie asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "We’ve heard all about his physiotherapy sessions."

Adeline chuckled. "He’s… determined."

"That’s a nice way of saying stubborn." Jaz added with a grin.

"Hey!" Mason protested. "I’ve been very cooperative."

"Sure you have, mate." Sam teased. "Especially when you pretend to know more than the professionals."

"I don’t pretend. I do know more."

Adeline shot him a dry look, her lips curving upward. "Except for that time you tried to ‘speed up’ your recovery."

"We agreed never to speak of that again." Mason mumbled, though his grin betrayed him.

"Mummy, what’s Turkish food like?" Lily suddenly piped up.

Adeline smiled. "It’s really yummy. Lots of grilled meats, rice, and fresh bread. And the desserts are delicious."

"They have something called baklava." Mason added, winking at Lily. "It’s all sweet and sticky with honey. Best part, hands down."

Lily giggled, the tension easing from Adeline’s shoulders. Mason’s gaze lingered on her, noticing how her eyes lit up when Lily laughed. There was something about her — a strength, a softness. And it tugged at him.

Just as their conversation flowed comfortably, a sudden stir caught Mason’s attention. A group of girls had noticed him. They exchanged whispers, their excitement barely contained.

"Oh my God, it’s him!"

They approached cautiously, one of the girls hesitating before speaking. "Sorry, Mason, would you mind if we took a picture?"

Mason offered a polite smile, rising from his seat. "Sure."

As he posed for the photo, the fans’ eyes flickered to Adeline. The smiles faltered, and whispers resumed.

"Who’s she?"

"Not his girlfriend, right? She doesn’t even look—"

Adeline kept her eyes on Lily, trying to keep her focus on the little one’s excitement, but she couldn’t help the small, amused smile playing on her lips. The comments still swirled in her head, but she wasn’t bothered — more like mildly amused. She hadn't expected people to think she was Mason's girlfriend.

Mason returned to the table after the picture, sliding back into his seat. His eyes immediately found hers, and there was a brief, awkward silence. He leaned in slightly, his voice quiet but trying to keep it casual.

“So… that was something,” he said with a slight chuckle, clearly still trying to shake off the weirdness of the situation. “Didn’t think I’d be getting a girlfriend so soon.” He gave her a teasing glance, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if he’d said too much.

Adeline lifted an eyebrow, surprised at the sudden remark, but her smile grew. "Oh, so you do think I look like your girlfriend?" she teased, her voice light.

Mason shifted a bit in his seat, a small blush creeping up his neck. “Well, I mean, if I had to choose someone... you’d definitely fit the bill.” he said, barely above a whisper, as if he wasn’t sure he’d said it at all.

Adeline couldn’t help but laugh quietly at the awkwardness, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Right, sure. I’ll be sure to put that on my resume next time I’m looking for a job."

Mason smiled at her laugh, clearly relieved that she wasn’t uncomfortable. "No one would ever dare question your qualifications." he replied, his voice still playful, though his smile was just a bit softer now.

Adeline’s smile lingered, but her thoughts stumbled for a moment. She had always been quick with a comeback, always had something to say. But Mason’s compliment — so simple, yet so sincere — left her momentarily speechless. She hadn’t expected that from him.

For a split second, she just stared at him, her thoughts trying to catch up. It wasn’t the teasing she was used to, not even the casual banter they usually exchanged. There was something in his voice that felt... real. And it caught her off guard, making her feel a little warmer than she’d anticipated.

She opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Jaz’s voice cut in from the other side of the table.

“Alright, enough with the lovebirds already.” Jaz said with a playful roll of her eyes, clearly not taking the conversation too seriously. “Anyone want more of those bread rolls, or are we just going to keep flirting over here?”

Adeline blinked, snapping out of her daze, and let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She shot Jaz a grateful look, relieved for the distraction. "I don’t know about lovebirds." she said with a light laugh, her tone quick and easy again. "But I could go for another roll."

Mason, still feeling the warmth from his own awkwardness, let out a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. "You can never go wrong with more bread, right?" he said, trying to cover the slight embarrassment creeping up his neck.

"Right." Adeline agreed, her smile returning, though it held a hint of something softer now. She glanced back at Mason, her eyes briefly locking with his before she looked away, unsure of what exactly had shifted between them, but it was there.

Mason cleared his throat, his usual confidence returning. “Okay, okay, no more lovebird jokes. We’re just two people who can’t stop talking about carbs.” He winked, easing the lingering tension.

"Maybe carbs are the real love of my life, then.” she said, the playful spark back in her eyes.

The brief, quiet moment between them had passed, but for a second, something unspoken had lingered in the air, something they both quietly acknowledged. Neither of them said anything more about it, but it was there — an invisible shift, soft but undeniable. And for Adeline, it was something she couldn’t quite ignore.

(...)

Mason stood by the entrance, casually leaning against the wall, watching as Adeline said her goodbyes to his family. His parents, his sister, and his brother-in-law all gathered around her, chatting like old friends. His mom gave her a warm hug, her smile wide and genuine, and his sister had an arm around her shoulders as they exchanged a few final jokes. Even his nieces, who had been completely charmed by Adeline, waved enthusiastically as they headed toward the door with their parents.

Mason couldn't help but notice how easily Adeline had settled in. She was laughing more freely now, genuinely enjoying herself. It made him feel lighter, watching her engage with his family so effortlessly, though a part of him remained keenly aware of the issue at hand — her apartment was still damaged, and she seemed uncertain about what to do next.

As the goodbyes were wrapping up, Adeline gave his sister one last hug and turned toward the door. She was just about to step outside when Mason straightened up and walked over.

"Heading out?" he asked casually, his voice warm as he stepped into her line of sight.

Adeline turned to him, offering a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, though it was sincere enough. "Yes, we’re just about to grab an Uber back to the hotel."

Mason tilted his head slightly, a thought forming in his mind. "You know, I was planning on heading in that direction. I can give you both a ride, if you want." His offer was simple, no pressure, but he hoped it would give them both a chance to talk.

Adeline paused for a second, clearly considering his offer, before nodding with a smile. "That sounds great, actually."

Mason smiled, relieved she didn’t hesitate too much. "No problem, happy to help."

Lily, who had been listening quietly, suddenly piped up, her voice more thoughtful than you’d expect from a three-year-old. "Mum, can I tell Mason about the rainbow we saw yesterday?" she asked, looking up at Adeline for approval.

Adeline smiled warmly at her daughter. "Sure, darling, go ahead."

Lily turned to Mason, her face lighting up with excitement. "We saw a big rainbow! It was all the colors! Red, and yellow, and blue!" She paused, trying to remember. "And purple! And green! And it was after the rain, but the sun was coming out."

Mason chuckled, charmed by Lily’s enthusiasm. "That sounds amazing. I love rainbows. They always seem to pop up at the best times, don’t they?"

Lily nodded, clearly proud of her discovery. "I like the purple one the best." she said, her small voice filled with certainty. "It's like the color of grapes."

Adeline glanced at Mason, clearly amused by her daughter’s energy. "She does have a thing for grapes." she said with a laugh, her earlier hesitation softening. "She’s not wrong though. The purple one was pretty nice."

Mason smiled at the both of them, feeling the tension ease a little. "I think I’d have to agree. Purple is a pretty great color."

Adeline gave him a light smile. "Alright, I guess we’ll take you up on that ride after all."

"Great." Mason said, his smile widening. "Let’s get going then."

The three of them made their way outside, and Mason led them to his car. As they all climbed in, the mood felt a little more relaxed. Lily continued talking about the rainbow, asking if they might see another one soon, and Mason humored her, offering suggestions for "rainbow hunting."

Once they were all settled, Mason started the car, his hands on the wheel but his attention still divided between the road, Adeline and Lily. The quiet hum of the engine filled the space, but Mason couldn’t ignore the weight of what he needed to say.

"So..." he began, glancing briefly at Adeline. "About your apartment. I’ve been thinking about it. And, if you don’t mind me saying, it sounds like a pretty stressful situation. The repairs, all the unknowns..." He trailed off, watching her reaction.

"Yeah, it’s been rough. I’m not sure when it’ll be fixed, and I haven’t really figured out where we’re going to stay long-term. It’s a bit of a mess." Adeline turned slightly toward him, her brow furrowing a bit.

Mason nodded, his voice steady and calm. "I get that. And look, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but I have an apartment I used to live in when I played for Chelsea. It’s empty now, and I was thinking — if you want some space while your place is getting sorted — you and Lily could stay there. It’s close to where you’re staying now, and it might give you some peace of mind."

"Mason, I really appreciate it. I do. But this feels like a lot. You've already done so much for me, and I don’t want to take advantage of that." Adeline blinked, surprised by the offer. She hesitated for only a moment before looking back at him, her tone gentle but firm.

Mason’s expression softened, his voice warm and reassuring. "I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to help. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything. But it’s just an apartment — it’s a two-bedroom, nothing fancy — but it’s available, and you won’t have to deal with finding a place to stay in the middle of everything. I just want to make sure you’re not stressing about this while you’re dealing with the other stuff."

Adeline glanced at him, clearly considering his words, but she didn’t seem as hesitant as before. "It’s a kind offer, Mason. I’ll definitely think about it."

Mason nodded, glad she wasn’t shutting it down completely. "Take your time. But just know it’s there if you need it."

Lily, sensing the heaviness of the moment, turned around from the front seat. "Mum, can we get ice cream later?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood. "I want strawberry. And chocolate too!"

Adeline chuckled softly, shaking her head. "We’ll see, kiddo. Maybe after we figure this all out."

Mason smiled at the little exchange, grateful for the small interruption. "Strawberry and chocolate, huh? Sounds like a great combo."

Lily beamed at him. "It’s the best!"

Mason felt a strange warmth spread through him as Adeline agreed to think about his offer. There was something growing inside him, an unspoken connection that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He wasn’t sure what it was yet, but the desire to take care of her, to help her through this, felt natural. He wasn’t backing down now — he wanted to be there for her, however she needed him.

(...)

The car slowed as they approached the hotel, the warm glow of the entrance lights cutting through the darkness. Adeline’s stomach twisted, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. The drive had been easy, filled with Lily’s endless chatter and Mason’s effortless charm. Now, with the ride ending, the lingering warmth of the evening was harder to ignore.

Mason pulled into the small parking lot and shifted the car into park, the soft hum of the engine fading.

"Well, here we are." he said, glancing her way with a small smile. "Not the greatest chauffeur service, but I think I did alright."

Adeline unbuckled her seatbelt, matching his grin. "I’d give it four stars. You lost one for not having free snacks in the backseat."

Mason's chuckle rumbled low in his chest. "Next time, I’ll be sure to stock up. Juice boxes and biscuits, right?"

Lily perked up from the backseat. "I like biscuits! And juice! Can we have some now?"

Adeline shook her head, amused. "Not now, love. We’ll get something later."

Before Adeline could open her door, Lily wriggled free from her car seat and tugged eagerly at Mason’s sleeve.

"Wait! I gotta show you something!" she exclaimed.

Mason barely had a chance to react before Lily dragged him toward the hotel entrance. Adeline followed, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. It was both exasperating and endearing — the way her daughter had taken to Mason so effortlessly.

Inside, Lily rummaged through her small backpack with the dramatic flair only a three-year-old could pull off. With a triumphant grin, she produced a crumpled piece of paper.

"Look!" she announced, holding it up proudly.

Adeline watched as Mason knelt down to inspect it. The drawing was a bright, chaotic burst of color. Three stick figures stood beneath a massive, wobbly rainbow. One was clearly Lily, with bright yellow curls, and the other was unmistakably Adeline, her hair drawn in long, straight lines. The third figure — short brown hair, a smile that stretched ear to ear and a blue jersey — was Mason.

"This is amazing, Lily." Mason said, his voice warm. "I don’t think I’ve ever looked this cool before."

Lily giggled, beaming. "I made your hair brown like real life!"

Adeline’s chest tightened. She hadn’t expected this. She hadn’t expected Mason to kneel there, holding a child’s drawing like it was priceless. She hadn’t expected the way Lily’s laughter rang through the small lobby, or the way Mason looked at her daughter — soft, patient, genuine.

"Do I get to keep this?" Mason asked, lifting the drawing with exaggerated reverence.

Lily nodded eagerly. "Yes! But you have to put it on your fridge!"

"Front and center." Mason promised.

Adeline’s heart gave a little squeeze. She knew she should say something — thank him for the ride, for the kindness, for the way he somehow made everything lighter — but the words didn’t come.

"Alright." she said gently, taking Lily’s hand. "We should let Mason go before we completely take over his life."

Mason held up the drawing. "Too late."

“Thank you, Mase. I mean it.” Adeline said, smiling genuinely at him.

He blinked, the grin faltering just for a moment. "Mase?" The surprise in his voice was unmistakable, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Didn't know we were on nickname terms now."

Adeline shrugged, her cheeks warming. "Don’t get used to it."

"I definitely will, Ady." he said, his smile widening.

Adeline froze, her laughter escaping in a burst of surprise. "Ady? Really?" She shook her head, fighting the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. "You’re really pushing your luck, Mason."

"Hey, I’m just following your lead." He shrugged, his grin never faltering. "You started it."

"We’ll see about that." She rolled her eyes, still chuckling.

As he walked toward the door, Lily tugged on Adeline’s hand. Her daughter’s voice dropped to a hushed whisper.

"Mummy." Lily said, her eyes wide with curiosity. "Can Mason be our friend forever?"

Adeline’s throat tightened. She watched as Mason reached the door, pausing to glance back with one last smile. It was so easy to picture him like this — like he belonged.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it?

She didn’t know how to answer.

(...)

Adeline stepped inside Mason’s house, the door clicking shut behind her. She’d gotten used to the informal nature of these sessions, where she’d simply show up and Mason would leave the door unlocked for her. Today, though, it felt a little more unusual. She glanced around the spacious hallway as she set her bag down by the door. No sign of him yet, which was strange given that she’d been a bit early.

"Mason?" she called out, her voice breaking the silence. There was no response. She waited, a little puzzled, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She checked her phone, just to be sure he hadn’t sent her a message about running late, but the screen was clear.

Still no response. It was quiet enough that she figured he might be upstairs or in a different room. Hesitant but curious, she wandered further into the house.

She hadn’t really taken the time to look around before. Today, with no immediate task at hand, she was feeling unusually… nosy. She wandered toward the open living area. The walls were decorated with a few framed photos, mostly of Mason and his teammates in action during their Chelsea days and his family. She felt a strange mix of admiration and guilt — her patient had been a professional football player for years now. It was easy to forget that when they were in these sessions, when she was helping him with something as personal as his injury.

Her eyes wandered toward the shelves that lined one wall, stacked with books and a few glossy trophies. She didn’t want to snoop, but something about the way they were arranged made her curious. Gently, she reached up to touch one of the items — a small, polished trophy. She squinted at it, and her breath caught in her throat.

It was a Player of the Match prize. The same one Mason had earned during one of Chelsea’s most celebrated games, the match that had everyone buzzing about his standout performance. She had heard about it from the sports reports, but she’d never actually seen the award in person. She wondered if he even thought about it anymore, considering how much had changed since then.

It felt odd to see something so significant on a shelf in what now seemed like an ordinary home. He wasn’t just Mason Mount, the physiotherapy patient. He was someone who had once been the hero of a major match, someone who had carried the weight of expectation with every move on the field.

Her eyes lingered on the other trophies — each one marking a major accomplishment in his career — before her gaze drifted to some medals from his more recent seasons. She knew he’d faced some tough times with Manchester United, had struggled with injuries, and hadn’t exactly found his feet in the same way he had at Chelsea. There was a sense of something missing in his collection now, something quieter compared to the years when his career had been soaring.

The sound of footsteps suddenly broke through her thoughts. She quickly placed the trophy back on its shelf, straightening up and turning toward the sound.

"Sorry." Mason’s voice echoed from the hallway as he appeared at the top of the stairs. His hair was still damp from the shower, but he was dressed in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked completely relaxed — unlike the man whose name had once filled the sports pages.

“Didn’t mean to make you wait, Ady.” he added with a small chuckle, his eyes darting to the space where she’d been standing. "Find something interesting?"

Adeline flinched slightly, her heart skipping a beat at the suddenness of his appearance. "I didn’t mean to—" She paused, shaking her head, trying to cover up the fact that she had been snooping. "Just… looking at your medals and stuff."

Mason smiled and walked down the stairs, clearly unbothered by her curiosity. “Ah, yeah. Those old things.” he said, brushing a hand through his still-damp hair. “I keep forgetting they’re there. I don’t really look at them much these days.”

She raised an eyebrow, still processing the shift in his tone. He was being casual about it, but she could tell there was more to it. "I’d imagine those were pretty big moments for you."

“Yes. They were.” he replied, a distant look crossing his face for just a moment. He walked toward her, stopping beside the shelf of awards. “But, things change, right? Things are different now. It’s not the same as it was when I was at Chelsea. I had everything going for me back then. Player of the Match, the recognition. Now… now it’s different.” He let out a quiet exhale, as if pushing away the weight of his words.

Adeline bit her lip, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t sure if he expected comfort or just an ear to listen. But she knew that even with the professional boundaries they maintained, there was still a person in front of her. She had seen that person — the one who wasn’t just a football player — during their time together.

Mason cleared his throat, quickly shifting his focus away from the shelf of trophies, his hands finding his pockets as he gave her a lopsided grin. "Look." he said, trying to sound casual again, "That's the past, right? Nothing to dwell on. Just one of those things." He waved a hand dismissively, as if to shake the whole conversation off. "Anyway, let’s get back to business."

Adeline watched him carefully, catching the slight tension in his shoulders and the way he deliberately steered the conversation. He was clearly trying to brush off the topic, but there was something in his tone, something in the way he avoided meeting her eyes, that made her feel like he was pretending a little too much.

She crossed her arms, taking a small step toward him. "Mase..." she started gently, her voice light but sincere. "It’s okay to talk about it, you know."

His grin faltered for just a second before he quickly replaced it with his usual teasing expression. "Talk about what? My so-called glory days? Nah, I’m good." He chuckled, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

Adeline raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t matter. I know you’ve been through a lot lately, but it’s okay to care about where you’ve been and where you’re going." Her voice softened, almost coaxing, as she leaned a little closer. "Don’t have to bury those feelings behind a joke."

Mason exhaled sharply, his eyes flicking over to the shelf of awards before looking away again. "I don’t know what you want me to say, Adeline." he muttered, his tone suddenly lower, more serious. "It’s just... It’s hard, alright? Things were different. I was a different player back then. Now, I’m just... trying to get back to where I was. And it’s frustrating."

The vulnerability in his voice, despite the rough edge, caught her off guard. She hadn’t expected him to open up, especially when he was so quick to mask his emotions with humor.

"I get that, Mase." she said quietly, stepping a little closer, her tone gentle. "It must be hard to feel like you’ve lost something. But..." She paused, carefully choosing her words. "That doesn’t mean you won’t find it again. Maybe not exactly the same, but something just as important."

Mason turned slightly, giving her a brief, almost bitter smile. "Yeah? And what if I don’t? What if I’m just stuck here now, trying to scrape by?" His voice was tinged with frustration, but there was also a hint of uncertainty in it.

Adeline didn’t answer right away. She didn’t need to give him some grand speech or offer empty reassurances. She just stood there for a moment, meeting his gaze with a look that was steady, supportive. "I don’t think you’re stuck, Mason. Not at all. You’re just... finding your way through it, like anyone would."

He didn’t respond right away, but the air between them seemed to shift, the distance between professional and personal fading just a little more. He looked at her, really looked at her, and for the first time since they’d started talking, the guarded expression in his eyes seemed to soften.

"Maybe." he murmured, his voice a little quieter. "But it’s tough, you know? Some days it feels like I’m doing everything I can, and it still doesn’t feel like enough."

Adeline gave him a small, reassuring smile. "But you are doing everything you can. That’s what matters. And I know you’ll get there." She hesitated for a moment, then added with a teasing glint in her eyes, "Besides, you’ve still got me to keep you in check, right?"

Mason chuckled softly at that, his lips curving into a genuine smile for the first time in the conversation. "Lucky me." he teased, his voice warmer now. "Wouldn’t want to go through this without your sessions would I?"

She grinned back, the mood lifting just a bit. "Exactly. Now, let’s focus on getting your knee back in shape so you can prove all those doubters wrong."

He nodded, his posture relaxing as he gave her a more genuine, appreciative look. "Alright. Let’s do it."

As Mason settled in for the session, the unspoken understanding between them grew. They weren’t just physiotherapist and patient anymore — they were two people who had seen each other for more than what they were on the surface. And as much as Mason tried to deflect it with jokes, Adeline could tell there was something deeper at play here. Something he wasn’t ready to face fully just yet. But, she thought, it would come in time. For now, it was enough that they could share this space of honesty, even if only for a moment.

(...)

The session had wrapped up not long ago, and Mason was toweling off the sweat that clung to his skin. The sun filtering through the large windows had warmed the living room, adding a lazy glow to the midmorning air.

Adeline scribbled a few notes on her clipboard, but the faint smile tugging at her lips was hard to miss.

“You’re doing well.” she said, glancing up at him. “It’s been a month since we started, and your knee’s definitely showing improvement. Your strength and balance are getting there.”

Mason grinned, the pride clear on his face. “Good to hear. I’ll be back to embarrassing everyone on the pitch in no time.”

She shook her head, though the amusement was evident. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Right, right. One step at a time.” He tossed the towel onto the back of the couch, brushing a hand through his slightly damp hair. “But you know, there is one recovery method I’m not sure you’ve approved yet.”

“Oh?” Adeline arched a brow.

He grinned, the gleam in his eyes making her immediately suspicious. “The pool. Perfect for low-impact exercise, great for the knee.” He gestured toward the backyard, where the glistening blue water of his pool was visible through the glass doors.

“Tempting, but I’m pretty sure your idea of pool recovery involves less swimming and more floating around doing absolutely nothing.” she retorted, standing up and gathering her things.

“Not true.” Mason said, taking a step closer. “Well, not entirely true.”

“Besides, I should get going. I’ve got the hospital shift later.” Adeline laughed softly, shaking her head.

“Plenty of time for a swim first.” He gave her a grin that was both mischievous and entirely too persuasive. “Come on, Ady. It’s not every day I offer a free pool day.”

“I’m sure it’s not, Mase.” she replied dryly. “But I’m good. Thanks.”

Mason tilted his head, pretending to mull it over. “Sure?”

“Positive.”

“Alright.” he said with an exaggerated sigh. “But it’s a shame.”

“What is?”

“That you’re gonna end up in the pool anyway.”

Before she could react, Mason lunged forward, scooping her up effortlessly. Adeline let out a startled yelp, clutching his shoulders as laughter bubbled from her chest.

“Mason! Don’t you dare!”

“Too late, Ady.” he shot back with a grin, already carrying her through the patio doors. The sun hit them instantly, the warmth on their skin contrasting with the cool breeze rolling off the water.

“I swear, Mount—”

But before she could finish, Mason stepped to the pool’s edge and tipped forward, sending them both plunging into the water. The coolness was instant, shocking, and Adeline surfaced with a gasp, water droplets clinging to her hair and face.

“You’re an idiot!” she sputtered, pushing her wet hair back.

Mason emerged right beside her, running his hands through his dripping hair with a triumphant grin. “But you’re in the pool now, aren’t you?”

She splashed water toward him in response, and Mason laughed, ducking away with an exaggerated flinch. “Okay, okay, I deserved that.”

Adeline shook her head, but even as she tried to scowl, she couldn’t stop the smile pulling at her lips. The sun reflected off the water, droplets sparkling as they dripped from his jawline. His chest rose and fell, still catching his breath, and without meaning to, she found herself noticing just how close he was.

Their playful splashes slowed, the water lapping gently around them. Mason’s gaze softened, his eyes locking with hers. She could feel the warmth of his skin beneath the water, their bodies only inches apart.

His breathing was steady, his face so close that the faint scent of his soap mixed with the chlorine. Her eyes traced the droplets running down his neck, lingering on the curve of his jaw. He wasn’t smiling now, but there was something else — something quieter — in his expression.

Adeline’s heart pounded, her pulse betraying her. Their noses nearly touched, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world slipped away. She wasn’t thinking about boundaries or professionalism. There was just the water, the sunlight, and the undeniable pull between them.

Without thinking, Mason’s hand brushed against her waist beneath the water — light, almost hesitant, but enough to send a shiver down her spine. His fingers lingered just slightly, the warmth of his touch contradicting the cool water.

“Careful.” Mason murmured, his voice low and teasing. “If you keep looking at me like that, I might think you actually like me.”

Adeline’s pulse quickened, but she forced a laugh, shifting her weight uncomfortably in the water. “You’re delusional, Mason.”

Mason raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Am I?”

The space between them seemed to shrink, but before either of them could say anything more, the sound of the back gate creaked open, followed by the unmistakable burst of laughter.

“Oi! Mason!” Declan’s voice called out, unmistakably amused.

Adeline jerked back, her cheeks flushing as she turned toward the trio of figures standing by the poolside. Declan, Ben, and another friend she didn’t recognize, all grinning like they’d just caught something far too entertaining.

“Did we interrupt something?” Ben teased, smirking.

“No.” Mason said, though the guilty glance he threw at Adeline didn’t help his case. “Just a recovery session. You know, the therapeutic benefits of water and all that.”

“Oh, definitely. Very professional.” Kai replied, barely suppressing his laughter.

Mason rolled his eyes, desperate to change the subject. “Please, Kai. Enough with the jokes. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

Adeline cleared her throat, trying to remain composed as she waded to the pool’s edge. “I should… probably get going.”

“Shame.” Ben added, a mischievous glint in his eye. “We were just about to suggest a pool party.”

"Mate, shut up." Declan said, bumping into his shoulder.

“I’ll pass.” Adeline said quickly, climbing out of the water and wringing her hair out. She avoided Mason’s gaze, though she could feel the lingering heat of it. “Enjoy your… recovery session.”

And with that, she grabbed her towel, cheeks burning, while the guys’ laughter echoed behind her.

Mason’s eyes followed her until she disappeared inside, his heart still racing — and not just from the swim.

(...)

#mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount imagine #mason mount fanfic #footballer x reader #football fanfic #manchester united #premier league #champions league

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kierantierney3 · 7 months ago

Text

Gavi/ Soft Launch

Summary: Where you soft launch your relationship via your cat

Masterlist

—-

yourusername

liked by pablogavi, pedri and 381,933 others

yourusername Meet the newest addition Lily. Sweetest little girl already. 🩷

view all comments

pedri milf?

^yourusername 🫣🫣^

user Stop how cute

user Lily is such a good name

user barcelona players in her comments??

pablogavi

liked by ferrantorres, fcbarcelona and 1,211,018 others

pavlogavi Relaxing

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ferrantorres @ pedri He got a girlfriend and don’t know how to act 😭

user Gavi soft launching a relationship wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card.

user Okay but how cute is that cat? i want to know if its his?

user He’s back playing for barcelona, got a cat and a girlfriend he’s winning

blackcat_lily

liked by yourusername, pablogavi and 10,111 others

blackcat_lily Dad is back home and mum is working from home. Time to be nice to dad but not mum.

view all comments

user Does this mean y/n has a boyfriend?

yourusername You are forgiven already 🤩

user Well time to get a black cat like Lily.

Pablogavi story

#football #football imagine #football imagines #footballers #footballer #football x reader #premier league #instagram au #football fanfic #barcelona #fc barcelona #gavi imagine #pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #instagram #pablo gavi instagram au

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bunniandhoney · 9 months ago

Note

virgil van dijk anon here!!!! can you write age gap + height difference + size kink please 🌞

yes!

—

because i think he loves a little cockwarming session after a match. he’s just too tired to give you a good fucking. you’re his good girl though, so you sit on his lap facing him as your cunt sucks him in.

“mmm. you always know how to make daddy feel good baby.” he says running his fingers up and down your spine.

all you can do is nuzzle your face into his neck and whine, because while he’s perfectly content, you’re trying your hardest to stay calm. virgil is just stretching you so damn good and the position puts him so deep it feels like he’s sitting under your rib cage. and even though you know he’s tired, you are starting to squirm.

“be good and stay still for me” he says tightening the grip on your hip.

“can’t it feels too good” you says rocking harder against him.

and frankly virgil has had enough; all he wanted to do was relax after his match, but you are just so damn cock hungry and he’s too hard to do this.

“fine, since you’re so damn impatient.” he moves his other hand to you hip and picks you up on his lap, pulling you off his cock.

and before you can complain about the emptiness virgil slams you back down on to his dick. he digs the balls of his feet into the floor to push as deep into you as possible, but now that’s not enough for him. no, you’re just the right size for him to do whatever he wants with you.

hugging you at the waist virgil stands up, never once stopping his thrust. and “f-fuck does this feel good.”

“yeah, you love when i bounce you on my dick, when i make you take it all.” he says panting

you’re about to cum, already close from the fullness of the cockwarming. his thrust are making his pelvis hit your clit so nicely every time he bounces you and “oh my gosh” do you start to shake against him, tightening your arms around your boyfriend.

suddenly he’s coming too, feeling you squeezing so tight around his cock, pulling your hips tight to his, resting you back on the sofa. he stays there for a moment gently rocking into you as his cum pours into your pussy.

“mm, you can pull out now baby.” you says when his thrusts come to a halt.

covering your whole body with his virgil kisses the tip of your ear and whispers, “daddy’s not done cumming baby.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

hey anonny, here ya go! hope this tickles your fancy

my requests are still open so feel free to send more my way!

xoxo

Bunni

#virgil van dijk #virgil van dijk imagine #virgil van dijk smut #virgil van dijk x reader #virgil van dijk fanfic #premiere league imagine

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allgoodnamesrgoneee · 1 year ago

Note

Kylian Mbappé imagine where Kylian suspects you are pregnant and you deny it but somehow he’s right fluff

Suspicions

Masterlist

A/N: Wrote this on the bus so it's probably shit but I hope you like it.

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Kylian knows you better than anyone.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Kylian Mbappé x you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.4k

Warnings! Fluff, slight angst, unexpected pregnancy,

Kylian knows you.

Perhaps even better than you know yourself, he would say.

From how you prefer hot chocolate over coffee to how you always choose the window seat on airplanes, even though you're terrified of heights.

He knows you.

Lately, though, something's changed.

It all started with a hunch, a whispered in his mind, and he's been racking his brain trying to figure out what's wrong. Even going so far as to call his mom and ask her for advice. And he thinks he's got it.

Call it intuition or whatever, but Kylian knows you, and he thinks, No, he knows you're pregnant.

You're not as energetic as you usually are, seeming more fatigued than usual, with dark circles under your eyes, often taking naps during the day and struggling to stay awake in the evenings. You've been eating a lot more than usual, often craving weird food combinations, something you usually hate when he does. You've also been having trouble concentrating and remembering things, which is unusual for you.

Not to mention that your mood seems to be fluctuating, going from being extremely happy to feeling down and irritable within a short span of time. Like your emotions were on a rollercoaster ride.

All your symptoms point to pregnancy, and the likelihood catches him off guard. After all, you both have been careful, using protection. Still, he can feel it.

You're in the kitchen when he decides to approach you.

Preparing a simple dinner. Spagetti Carbonara, his favorite. You look beautiful—the way the apron cinches around your waist, accentuating your curves—curves he's sure weren't there a few weeks ago. And you have a certain glow about you.

As you glide across the kitchen to grab ingredients, Kylian watches you closely, noticing the slight scrunch of your nose as you stir the sauce. As if the smell is suddenly overwhelming. You move more slowly than usual, and every now and then, you take a break to give your lower back a little rub.

Yeah, he's sure now.

He takes a deep breath and approaches you.

His steps are slow and calculated as he tries to find the right words to say, heart pounding in his chest as he tries to predict your reaction.

"Mon amour," he whispers softly in your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Hey. Did you get bored with your game?" You ask, temporarily pausing your chopping as you lean back against him, his warm skin sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes…So I have something to ask you."He asks softly, nuzzling your neck and breathing in your scent. Curiosity piqued, you turn around to face him, looking into his eyes expectantly. His gaze is soft, intense. It makes your heart race.

"What is it?"

He takes a deep breath. "I've been thinking…" He pauses, swallows and releases a shaky breath. You frown slightly, sensing that this conversation is about to take a serious turn.

"Go on, you can tell me anything," you encourage him gently, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. He hesitates for a moment before finally speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Are you pregnant?" he asks, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation.

The question catches you off guard, and you stiffen for a moment, trying to process his words. "Um, no, I'm not pregnant," you respond, letting out a confused laugh. "Where did that come from?"

Kylian pauses, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I...I don't know," he stammers, shoulders slumping slightly as he mutters. "It's just that...I noticed you've been acting different lately. You're more tired than usual, and your appetite has changed. Not to mention..." He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished as he searches for the right words. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel bad about your slight weight gain, knowing how much you've struggled with it in the past.

You roll your eyes, snorting at the simple notion he's hinting at. There's no way. "Kylian, I'm on the pill. There's no way."

He nods, still convinced he's not wrong. "Yeah, I know, but...remember that time you forgot? I just want to make sure."

You shake your head, dismissing him. "That was weeks ago, Kylian. I've had my period since then. I'm sure it's just stress or something." You reassure, turning back to resume stirring the sauce, hand gripping tight on the wooden spoon.

Usually, Kylian would drop the subject at this point, but he's sure about this. Deep in his gut, he knows. And he's never wrong about his instincts.

He takes a step closer, placing a hand on your shoulder, hating the way you tense up under his touch. "Baby, I love you. And I know you, and I know when somethings wrong, trust me." He can tell you're getting irritated by the way your eyebrows furrow and your jaw clenches. But he can't let it go. "Let's just take the test, yeah. Just to be sure."

You pause for a moment, feeling torn. But you trust him. Plus, his intuition has proven right in the past. Reluctantly, you nod, realizing that it wouldn't hurt to get checked out.

"Alright," you concede, giving him a small smile. "If it'll make you feel better."

Your hands shake as you sit on the toilet, nerves fluttering in your stomach. Kylian is standing next to you, gently rubbing your back for support, as you wait for the results.

"Hey, it's going to be okay," he murmurs, squeezing you gently. You steal a glance up at him, chocolate-brown eyes soft as he gazes down at you with concern.

"I'm scared," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Kylian's grip tightens. "Hey, I got you. I'm not going anywhere." He reassures you, leaning down to press the gentlest kiss on your lips.

The minutes feel like hours as you wait for the result. And your hands are shaking as your knee bounces in nervousness. The timer beeps, and your world stops.

You hold your breath as you pick up the test and hand it to Kylian, the small lump in your throat now feeling like a boulder. Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him flip it over with trembling hands.

He stares at the test, jaw dropping at whatever he's reading, before a wide smile spreads across his face. Then he's running toward you.

He scoops you up in his arms, spinning you around as he exclaims, "Je le savais!" before gently setting you down and dropping the test into your hands. You stare at it in disbelief, jaw dropping as your eyes well up. (I knew it!")

Two pink lines—two lines that changes everything.

You sob when it finally hits and it catches Kylian off guard. He wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly as tears stream down your face. He doesn't say anything. Just holds you. Knowing that you don't need words right now. Just him.

He strokes your hair soothingly, whispering soothingly into your ear, his warm breath against your skin. And you cling to him. Cling to him like he's your lifeline- because right now he is.

The only thing grounding you to earth as you process this newfound information. You stand there for what feels like hours, just holding each other before you finally manage to whisper, "We're going to be parents."

Kylian gently wipes away a stray tear, voice filled with awe as he murmurs, "Yeah, you happy." not knowing how you felt based off of your reaction. His heart did backflips as he awaited your response. There's nothing he wanted more than a family with you. You're it for him. But he knows he'll stand beside you no matter what you decide.

So he schools his features, in case you choose a different path, and waits for you to speak, ready to support you in whatever decision you make.

"Yes!" You blumber, barely getting your words out as you choke on your own tears. "Y-Yes." Hiccups and sobs escape from your trembling lips.

His body sags with relief at your words before he's pulling you close once again and laying a hundred kisses all over your face."Thank you, thank you!" Tears fall from his eyes now. And he's bending down to get on his knees to lay kisses on your belly. "I love you so much. Thank you."

He stays like that for a long time, his tears soaking your shirt as he showers your belly with love.

And you know everything will be alright.

-Bianca��

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #kylian x you #kylian imagines #kylian fanfic #kylianmbappé #kylian mbappe #footballer x reader #football #premier league

695 notes · View notes

zoyasribbon · 1 year ago

Text

DOMESTIC DELIGHTS — r. dias

ೃ࿐ summary : The moments spent with your family, they are the most precious in your life, a pure delight that bring solace to your soul. And on this specific Sunday afternoon, this one, you are poised to savor every bit of it.

ೃ࿐ words : 0,7k.

ೃ࿐ genre : mature. fluff. suggestive.

ೃ࿐ warning : cute daughter-father moments, sexual tension.

ೃ࿐ author's note : Despite my deep disdain for Man City (while I do acknowledge Pep's genius football philosophy), I must confess—I find myself particularly attracted to some players... and a certain 6’2 Portuguese center-back has managed to steal my heart. Ugh, what can I sayyyyy, what can I sayyyyy.

You were drawn by the soft, deep chuckles emitted by your husband, guiding you towards the entrance of the living room, where you discreetly pushed the door ajar.

There he was.

Rúben.

Dressed in his black Puma sweatpants and a simple, white undershirt, he was doing push-ups with your little daughter perched on his broad, muscular back. Her cheerful, high-pitched voice counted his progress as he effortlessly raised and lowered his body multiple times. You observed them tenderly: the pure joy and trust of your child blending with Rúben's extraordinary strength and patience. Home.

If he noticed you leaning against the doorframe, he said nothing... and you couldn’t help but admire his new three-day stubble beard, a bit more developed than usual, complementing his charming face.

Suddenly, he twisted to one side, landing on the floor while effortlessly lifting your excited little girl with his sturdy arms before gently placing her on his firm stomach. A timid chuckle escaped your lips at this heartwarming sight. But this gesture didn't deter him from maintaining a somewhat intense gaze that met yours, igniting a fire within you.

"Go play in the garden, princesa. I'll do a few more and then join you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her forehead. As his words prompted her to dash out of the room, flashing you a mischievous smile in passing, the room fell into an almost oppressive silence. Only Rúben's erratic breathing and the sudden accelerated beats of your heart seemed to animate the space.

He eventually raised himself from the floor, taking his sweet time to stand, his brown eyes never leaving your burning gaze for a second.

Rúben's smile took on a different shade as he crossed the room to approach you, leaving only a few brief inches between you. His arms, marked by the effort, found support on the wooden doorframe, not far from your head, asserting his dominance in height.

In the depth of his gaze, you discerned the glint of a tantalizing promise.

"You didn't have to stop, you know?" you innocently scolded, letting your right hand wander from his neck, to his left flank and to his hip. You made sure your nails lightly grazed his skin through the thin white fabric, intending for him to feel your provocation. As you did, you sensed a trickle of sweat dampening his shirt, clinging to his still-toned abs, evidence of his numerous push-ups.

In just a few seconds, his body responded. Engulfed in goosebumps that hinted at desire, Rúben's eyelids trembled, and his Adam's apple bobbed. Though your line of sight didn't reveal it, you were certain that his fingers fervently clutched the doorframe, evidenced by the emerging veins on his glistening shoulders.

He was on the verge of losing control. The mere thought elevated the corner of your lips into a sly smile, concealing the pleasure you took in this little teasing game. You must admit, you were very in the mood to play today. After all, Rúben simply had no business being so sexy on this delightful spring afternoon.

Your right hand, still placed on his hip, dared to venture even further beneath the fabric of his black tracksuit to bring him even more closer to you and explore the skin of his lower back and his firm bottom, leading him to open his mouth slightly, letting out a timid gasp.

Unable to resist the excruciating slowness of your caresses, he leaned forward, daring “Why? Do you want to keep watching?” he managed to inquire with an innocent tone, though mischief lingered within.

His alluring, plump lips so close to yours beckoned, yet you resisted the temptation they promised... at least for the moment. You knew what he expected from you at this moment, but you just wouldn't comply. You were far too determined to win this battle.

Nevertheless, the warm breath escaping his mouth was enough to slightly distract you. In that moment, you even forgot your somewhat disheveled appearance—your hair was in a messy bun, and you still had your apron on, still warm from the breath of the oven you had opened to check the crumb-topped salmon you were preparing.

This seemed not to bother Rúben, whose gaze remained just as fiery and thirsty. His fingers sought revenge, gently sweeping aside a loose strand of hair that had fallen during your observation, trailing across your cheek, your neck, before finally resting on your nape. Then his entire hand delicately settled upon it. Your eyes were nearly completely mesmerized by the movement of his lips. Ruben's voice became huskier and smoother. “Or maybe you want a turn too."

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oraltraditionfiction · 3 months ago

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"I wanted to keep dating her" | MM7

Mason Mount x f! reader (fluff)

Summary: you and Mason have a disagreement about how to cut sandwiches

Word Count: 358 words

Authors Note: inspired by this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODATQFxkk9Y. I had a lot of fun with this one, please enjoy! -🦷

You were lying on the couch, tucked under a blanket scrolling through social media, when a video of Mason caught your eye. It appeared to be an official Premier League video reposted by a fan account. Clicking on the caption, you smile softly as you read, he is soooo adorable talking about his gf <3333. The video restarts and you pay attention to the question being asked: “How would you cut a sandwich?”

Mason blinks and pauses for a moment, “Well… personally, I don’t mind eating it whole. I’ve never really understand the controversy. My girlfriend has strong opinions though.”

He pauses with a laugh, eyes crinkling, “I remember when we first started dating, I made her a sandwich, and I watched her cut it into triangles before she ate it. I was so confused, and then she looked up at me and told me that sandwiches always need to be cut into triangles. I just agreed because I wanted to keep dating her, but now if I don’t cut her sandwich into triangles, it becomes a whole conversation about sandwich shapes.”

You hold back a laugh before calling for him, “Mase!”

A few moments later he pokes his head in, mild confusion written on his face. An eyebrow furrowed, you hold yourself back from going to kiss his cheek. “What’s this about sandwich shapes, I hear?” you ask, humor in your voice.

His face flushes slightly, “Babe, that was months ago.” He moves towards you, pulling you into his chest. You squirm slightly, holding back laughter.

“I refuse to be dating a man who won’t admit that triangles are the best sandwich shape!” you say, your voice muffled by his sweatshirt. You feel his chest shake slightly as he holds back a laugh.

“What difference does it make?! It’s all a sandwich,” he jokingly remarks. You raise your head looking at him with an exaggerated expression of sadness.

“Alright, alright…” he concedes, “How about this, we can each ask our followers what they think and whoever wins is correct.”

Your face breaks into a smile, and he grins down at you, leaning in for a soft kiss.

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year ago

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Forbidden but delightful - Mason Mount

Request: I actually had a imagine request for Mason Mount…where the reader works for him and they’ve always been fond of one another and one day she comes in wearing a guys jumper, it doesn’t fit her properly and it smells like a man. So Mason feels himself becoming jealous, when in reality it’s just her brothers jumper that she ended up wearing because she fell asleep at his babysitting his kids + @anon that asked me sth based on Mase's Nike shooting that got out out in august/september

Warning: none

Tag list: @prideofpd , @johnstonesfc , @chelsealover , @masonxomount , @masterclassbaby

(gif credits to @bracedes)

A thing Mason promised himself he would have never done in his life was falling in love with someone that worked for him or that simply happened to cross his path for business reasons: he knew it would have been unprofessional but, most of all, he feared he would have ended up as the wronged party.

Another thing he knew deep down his heart was that promises are sometimes meant to be broken and the aforementioned one was one of those.

Since Y/N took on the role of his personal stylist she became the ever so present object of his thoughts as she charmed him since day one, when that shy smile of hers made him blush and ask for more, more moments of him in her company.

He knew she had something special but didn't know what that was, he only knew it was something that made him feel relaxed, at peace with the world around him. It was as if she held an aura of calmness that was never enough for him as his engaged lifestyle required a lot of it.

Needless to say they got along instantly and, as he was one of the most appreciated footballers on the planet, she soon became one of the most envied women for spending so much time with him. That time they would spend together wasn’t related to fashion matters only but quickly spread to their spare time too: after their work for a magazine, Mason invited her over to his house to celebrate their first job together.

In the meanwhile, on her part, a small sentence he said to her like “I’d like you to always feel at ease when you’re around me, we don’t have to be friends if you don’t want to but I’d like you to be totally yourself” was what made her like him as soon as his brother Lewis introduced him to her. What he expressed was quite an easy concept not to be taken for granted as a lot of famous people would likely treat their employees as servants, making their business life miserable but that wasn't his case.

Everyone loved Mason for being a down to earth guy, a family guy that always had the most beautiful smile painted across his lips and that smile was the second thing that made her weak to her knees: it could light up a dark room faster than artificial light and warm her heart at the same speed.

The second time it was her turn so she asked him to join her in going to a club in the centre of Manchester. It was just the prelude of their game of looks, subtle and unintended touches, sweet words. All of that happened without them even realising it as it felt so spontaneous, so right.

The crucial moment in their professional as well as personal career was when the Red Devils player was asked to feature in the next Nike Underwear campaign as one of their latest posterboys.

“That’s huge, I can't believe it” She kept on saying in disbelief as he was in a delighted mood too. That was probably the biggest job she got until then and they were both buzzing.

“I’m sure all the girlies will love me even more after this shooting” You joked, alluding to the shirtless pictures of Mason that would soon reach every corner of planet Earth through the worldwide coverage they would have had.

He blushed a little and chuckled. “Yep and they’ll probably hate you a little too cause you’re stealing their place”

“Me?? I’m just doing what I’ve been hired for and just got you the biggest shooting to date”

“Yeah but don’t flatter yourself sweetheart”

Sweetheart? Y/N would have never thought of hearing that nickname coming from his mouth and above all, addressed to her. The shade of bright pink that painted her cheeks after that exchange of words, matched her geranium skirt and that combination didn’t go unnoticed to her client who smirked, quite pleased with what his sentence ignited in her.

They both gave each other knowing looks, a look that made Mason’s heart beat faster and Y/N’s legs shake.

The stylist cleared her throat with a fit of coughing before looking at the time on her phone screen, deciding it was time for her to go home before things would have gone out of your hands.

“Are you already going home?”

“Yes, I have erm - a friend over for dinner, yeah” She nodded as if she was trying to convince herself to buy her own lie.

“Do I know her? Oh wait, is it your best friend?” The Englishman didn’t really care about her guest, he only wanted to spend a couple more minutes with her and make sure she wasn’t seeing any guy he would have to compete with.

“No no, you don’t know her…” She said dismissively, putting her bag on her shoulder.

“Is this mysterious friend a guy you haven’t told me about?” He said, crossing his hands and trying to sound as chilled as possible.

“Please! Not interested in any guy right now” Yeah, in any guy that wasn’t called Mason Mount. “Really have to go now, my house is a mess and she will be there in less than an hour… see you tomorrow, Mount, don’t be late cause we’ll check your Nike’s outfits out!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t…have fun tonight”

“Yep…thanks”

They almost whispered their goodbyes with a hint of sadness and delusion in their voices, as though neither of them wanted to leave each other nor wanted the other one to be left alone but the positions they were in forbid any kind of romantic relationship: it would have been too complicated and too risky.

The very risky thing though was the task she had to undertake the next day: some Nike people met Mason and Y/N at the sportswear brand’s headquarter in London and shared a quick chat to get to know each other better, before skipping to the part where they would explain the shooting they had in mind for Mason to be featured in.

She gulped the moment they showed them the underwear models they could have chosen among.

Y/N’s mind soon got crowded with not safe for work images, as the sight of the Manchester United player’s toned body covered only in a pair of tight boxers, smiling at her began getting more and more vivid.

She shook her head when the Mason in her mind bit on his lower lip and seductively brought his hands to his sides to take off the tiny piece of clothing covering his lower body.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Oh yes, yes I’m so excited for this you have no idea” She laughed.

The people working with them smiled and left the room to do God’s knew what, leaving her and Mason alone.

He chuckled, lowering himself to her level so that his lips were close to her ear and whispered “Bet you’re more aroused than excited for this job”

You widen your eyes and hit him on the shoulder.

“I’m fully focused on my work, wasn’t thinking about anything vile”

“Even if you’re thinking about it that would be nothing wrong with it…I won’t tell anyone about your secret crush for me”

“Stop it! How old are you? 15??”

Mason giggled and swiftly pecked her cheek. “I love it when you get annoyed at me”

If someone would have seen that scene they would have thought they were a couple, a cute couple but sadly it wasn’t the truth and maybe would have never been…

Y/N arrived at work the day of the Nike shooting some minutes late and she entered the venue out of breath.

“Hi! Sorry everyone, stuck in traffic and it was horrible” She justified herself panting. What she just said was a white lie because she had nothing to do with London’s traffic: the night before her elder brother asked her to babysit his children because he had planned a night out with his wife and forgot to call someone to look after those two rascals that spent all the night shouting and running around the house.

She tried to say no when he asked her that favour, as she had a big day coming on but he said he really needed her help.

So she fell asleep on the sofa, after battling to put her nephews to bed, waking up just in time to go back home in a rush, begging her brother to give her a lift, and put on some knee-high boots that would have complimented that oversized grey jumper she borrowed from him to fight the coldness of the night.

Mason raised his eyebrows when he saw her, recognising immediately what she was wearing was a man’s jumper.

She styled it as if it was a dress and she looked so hot in his eyes but couldn’t stop thinking she must have spent the night with some man, that’s the reason why she was late.

The shooting went as planned: Mason looked genuinely flawless and sexy in that underwear, smiling at the camera and she kept on biting her lips as she couldn’t help thirsting over him as he looked nothing but hot ... that infatuation for him would have been the death of her.

She thanked that one person that asked for a little break because she needed a giant cup of coffee and some fresh air.

“You look good” Those were the first words she said to Mason that day.

“You too”

“No way, I look hideous as I’ve barely slept and arrived late on what’s the most important day in my career” She blurted annoyed at that, something unforgivable from her point of view.

The footballer started biting on his nails as he was clearly nervous and maybe needed some fresh air as well as she did.

“This…” The strong smell that tickled his nostrils interrupted him “...this smell, where does it come from?”

“Oh I think it’s my jumper” Y/N admitted shyly, referring to the garment that looked huge on her.

What Mason noticed made her blush, as if he caught her red-handed while doing something inappropriate and he glanced at her sideways, as if that inappropriate thing she did disappointed him somehow.

“It still smells like him...” She said under her breath but he still heard her and couldn’t help but widen his eyes in shock: in his head they’re perfect together, smiling and laughing every day, even subtly flirting so he thought she was single and he could go on courting her but now she’s wearing another man’s clothes? The poor man was confused to say the least.

“You told me you weren’t interested in any man…”

“And I’m not”

He raised his head and smiled quite relieved with the real explanation behind all of that.

“So why are you wearing another man’s jumper?”

“Oh god Mase, are you jealous?? This is my brother’s. He asked me to babysit his kids last night and took this because I was cold and in a rush so it was literally the first decent thing I’ve found”

“Oh well…I was ready to mock you for your walk of shame actually”

“No dear, you’re dying for me to tell you I haven't slept with anyone last night and now you’re joking only because you didn’t get angry” You giggled, offering him a cup of hot coffee.

“Can I take you out tonight?”

“Mason I- I don’t think that’d be a good idea, I mean we’re working together”

“I know that but I’ll do my best to keep things separated, I promise” He gave you puppy eyes, making you giggle.

“If you wanna try…”

“You don’t wanna try?”

Of course she wanted to, she'd been dying too…and she'd been dying to know what his lips tasted of too: she quickly glanced around to make sure all the people involved in the shooting were still out and unexpectedly kissed him, the coffee flavour on his lips mixing with her nude lipstick.

“Now go on posing, nothing happened!”

Nothing could swipe Mason’s smirk off his face as he brushed his thumb over his lips that now tasted like her.

“Yeah...nothing happened”

Mixing work and private life wasn’t something they were willing to do but sometimes breaking the rules has that forbidden charm that brings to one’s soul the highest of delights and that’s a risk worth taking.

#mason mount #mason mount x you #mason mount imagines #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fics #mason mount fanfictions #mason mount fluff #manchester united #manchester united imagines #premier league #premier league fics #england nt #footie fics #football imagines #football writing

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someonegoood · 1 year ago

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MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 3 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which after everything you gave, you're not sure if you're going to keep going. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst, some smut (not really explicit) & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: here's part 3 ! final part for my first two works, I'm proud of how it came out

taglist: @girlidekanymore @sunflower-tia @nicolesainz @chilwellspulisic @anotherfan07

inspired by taylor swift's songs.

The feeling of freshness —the wonderful smells, the damp feel of leaves falling down the trees, the breeze and the rain on your skin. The sound of rain is wonderful: not just between a hard roof and leaves, but you can hear it on different types of trees and hedges.

The flowers, which look like they were painted by Monet himself, have colours so rich that no one can even attempt to imitate them. From the smallest weed to the grandest stalk, they are all beautiful in your eyes.

Around you are your friends; some are talking or enjoying the countryside air. You had decided to take me on a little vacation before returning to the routine of the busy city of London.

No distractions, no disturbances, especially without him. After seeing how Mason smiled at that blonde standing next to him and Debbie's painful look in the boat, you knew all these years were in vain.

The moments when you took care of him after he vomited from all the alcohol he had consumed at the party, when you covered him so he could go on dates with different girls and other things you had done for him.

The last time Mason saw you still burned in the back of your mind, the little stolen glances he gave you while you were wearing a pink t-shirt, the one that you had left back in a drawer in the Mount's house. Stacey had told you the t-shirt drove him crazy.

It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t understand why nothing went your way. Was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the gulf?

—Babes, how could you ever think it's your fault? Clearly, he is out of his mind. —Clara talked. You and your friends were sitting on the porch in the extensive field that belonged to your grandparents.

Then Adelaida, who was resting her head on your lap, suddenly stood up, leaning on one elbow and said: —Please don't think it's your fault, you would be lowering yourself to his level.

Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you... even your mother. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the heartbreak that felt it was never-ending.

All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling that pulled you to another person, that proved he was the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know he wasn’t.

Even though you were angry at him, you knew that when you saw him you would act like a little girl, crazy in love.

On the other side, Mason was in the kitchen, picking at the leftover food on the tabletop as everyone else was in the living room. His mother walked into the kitchen as he took a bite of little meatballs that looked delicious and she laughed at the pieces of meat that had fallen onto the kitchen counter.

—That’s definitely not the way to eat —she smirked knowing his son wasn't the type of person to sit down and eat properly.

—But you love me anyways, mom. —Mason flashed his puppy eyes as his mum laughed at his actions. It had been a long year for Mason. He stopped turning to family events when he knew you would be there.

—Mason Tony Mount, I gave birth to you, I know you better than you know yourself-

—Mom. —Mason sighed. —Don't start this whole speech about her, please.

—Dear, I don’t even need to say her name... it will always be her. —She smiled, sadly, as she walked over to her son and placed a hand on his cheek.

—She's happy, from what I heard. —he scoffed again.

—So then you know you’re being an ass, right?

Mason's eyes widened at his mother's question but she just laughed and waved him off. —After all the years she spent after you, dear, it would be cruel for you to not let her be happy.

That sentence shattered his heart. You weren't the little girl who ran behind him in search of attention anymore, you were a woman with maturity, feelings and beauty.

—But what if I’m not happy? —he asked his mum. Debbie felt her heart clench at his words, it was never good for a mother when they saw their son being at his lowest.

—Do you love her?

There was no answer.

—See, that would be very cruel. Mase... either you love her or you’re jealous. Just remember that she's a second daughter to me and I know her like the palm of my hand. I'm certain that she’s fragile when it comes to you.

After a week in the countryside with your friends, you were back in the city, at a party the english players were throwing in celebration of their team winning the last few games.

Every time he looks at you, it’s making him go mad. It surprises him how much influence you have on his night out. He actually believed he could handle it, seeing you after a while. Normally he’s the one who takes you to the football after-parties because you begged him like crazy. But not this time.

Did you wear a white dress on purpose tonight? He doesn’t know. You look beautiful and he wishes he had the nerve to tell you how great white looks on you. He remembers the time you almost kiss in the box, you in the white sweatshirt with his number. The guy talking to you on your right was Foden. Did you wear it for him? He doesn’t believe that, he doesn’t think he deserves that.

Mason sighs. This is one of the hardest nights in his life. He shouldn’t have messed it up. If he didn’t follow what Ben said to him, he would probably be the one talking to you. Fucking Ben.

At the same time, you don’t know what’s bothering Mason. You thought he would be coming to the afterparty with Daphne, but his friends confirmed that he forgot her quickly. He didn't even kiss her. Neither touch her.

It surprised you, you were afraid he would show up with that beautiful model. A part of you felt really happy.

You feel his eyes burning into you while you talk to Foden. You quickly take the cocktail out of Phil's hands, while thanking him in the meantime. He shrugs it off.

—What’s up with you? —He asks you after you take a few sips.

—What do you mean? —You ask him. Is he noticing your bad mood? You tried hiding it, but maybe you failed.

—You seem distracted. Did something happen? —he goes on. You take a sip of your cocktail, thinking about your response. Could it be a bad plan to tell him about Mase? They’re friends after all. But on the other hand, it would be nice to talk about it to someone.

—It’s him, isn’t it? —Foden answers his own question. You didn’t even realize you were looking at Mason until Phil spoke. You nod towards him, —Let’s go outside.

Then, you're sitting on a wooden bench outside. The white dress doesn’t give you much warmth, so you embarrassingly start to shiver. Before you can notice it, Phil drapes his jacket around your shoulders.

—Fuck... —he says, regretting. —I knew it would be a bad plan to invite you. —Mutters softly, —I thought it was a good idea to make you feel better, now I just got Mount to get angry at you.

You laughed, thinking that was very cute. —That’s not true, Phil —you try to comfort him, —you can’t help me being an idiot.

—To be fair, Mason and you are both idiots. —Foden laughs, —Definitely unaware idiots-

But before he can explain to you anything, Mason shows up in front of you.

While walking back to his car, he notices the sound of people talking outside. He thinks he’s recognizing your voice. He must be going insane, he thinks tiredly to himself. But still, he walks towards the sound. Quickly seeing you and Phil sitting together... fucking hell, why are you wearing his jacket?

Before he realizes it himself, he stands before you and his teammate Foden. The chattering stops directly, did he interrupt something? He feels awkward with you and Phil looking at him amusingly. How can he fix this awful situation?

—I uh... I wanted to say bye to you. —Mason said, ignoring the existence of Phil. —I am supposed to bring you home or will Phil...?—He stutters eventually, not wanting to finish his question.

—Wait, Mase, can we talk? —You react before Mason turns around and walks to his car in a rush. He nods.

—Of course.

The silence was sharply awkward.

—Don’t forget your jacket, Foden —Mason quickly says, —she can wear mine while we’re outside.

Phil, who no longer was sitting on the bench, laughed for a bit at his hopeless friend. Then he walks up to you, and takes his own jacket from your shoulders, while Mason quickly takes off his. You give Phil a quick hug to thank him, before getting into Mason's jacket.

—Don’t be an idiot to her —says Phil toward Mason whispering in his ear. You smile shyly, flushing with Phil's comment.

Mason doesn’t know how to watch the interaction between his friend and you. He doesn't know where to look when you turn your attention to him. The white dress quickly grabs his attention once again.

Silently, both of you walk to the parking lot where his fancy Mercedes-AMG was parked. You had always made fun of him because the car was too posh in your opinion, although every time you needed a ride home you always ended up in his car.

Firstly he took the car keys out of his pocket and then he opened your door for you. He had always been a gentleman. The situation is unexpected, yet influenced by the tension that’s been built between you two through the last couple of months.

—So, what do you want to talk about? —Mason asks you. You lasted a few seconds thinking about how to answer his question.

—Why were you ignoring me today? Why didn’t you come up to me and Phil to say hi? —You fire multiple questions at him, —did I do something wrong? Are you upset with me? —Your words cut through the thick air inside the car.

—I thought the two of you were busy with each other. —Mason mutters.

You scoff, this was unbelievable. —That’s bullshit Mase, you know I always make time for you.

—God!, I just wasn’t in the mood to see you two. —He said, elevating his tone, trying to sound casual but deep down, jealousy was gnawing at him like a relentless beast.

You don’t know what to say to Mason. You don’t even know what the boy means. He wasn’t in the mood to see you? Since when could that happen?

—Why? —You barely dare to ask him. You have no choice, so you repeat your last question —why, Mase? —Your eyes start to fill with tears.

Mason sighs, —You won’t get it.

—You don’t know that. Try me.

—I just... I just don’t like seeing you with other boys —he confessed. You doubt for a bit. Should you tell him you were relieved he showed up alone instead of coming with Daphne? You decide not.

—Oh, come on Mason! You can't say that! —You almost shout. Mason's eyes open like plates. You had never raised your voice at him like that, so angry.

—Why not? —He, as well, says almost shouting.

—Because you don't have the right! It's-it's just that you can't say that as if my feelings were so simple... —You tried to calm yourself, you could lost everything now.

—Mason, I've been with you since the beginning and you know that. I'm your biggest supporter and deep inside you know I’ll always cheer for you. I’ve spent my whole girlhood- Fuck. —Tears start scrolling down your delicate face. He looks at you as if you were graceful.

—I wanted to be with you tonight, —you eventually say after a long silence—but you looked at me as if I didn’t matter.

—I know.

You sigh. Can't the boy say anything else? You feel obligated to talk further: —Why aren’t you telling me what’s wrong?

You don't get any answer. Looking at the ceiling of the car, you try to keep your cool.

—You know what? I’m going back to the party. Call me when you can explain at least something. —You want to undo yourself from Mason's warm jacket, but he stops you directly by grabbing your arm.

—I know you deserve to know what’s going on, but I don’t want to lose you. I know it’s a shitty excuse which makes everything even more unclear, but please don’t go back inside. —Mason talks soft and fast —and please keep the jacket on.

—What’s so important about the jacket? —You ask with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

—Your dress distracts me and I don’t want to see you in anyone else’s jacket again. —This time he is direct with his words. Almost harsh. You wonder why your dress distracts him. Does he find it ugly?

—Don’t you like the dress? —You ask.

—I fucking love the dress. —Mason says. At that moment you feel something clicking. Despite his short explanation, you wonder if Mason may return your feelings.

—Just give me time. Everything is happening so fast and the fact that I'm just realizing that all these years all I've been doing is hurting you makes me go mad angry at myself. —He says, without breathing. —And... I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry for everything I've done, for the countless times I've hurt you. I promise you will have a proper explanation. —He tried to smile, with tears in his eyes.

—That's the Mase I know... —You laugh lightly and Mason just stares at you, sweetly. —Now take me back home, probably my brother is already wasted.

What you didn't know is that that day Mason Mount started falling in love with you.

A few days after you were your house, sat in the cozy familiarity of the your couch while your mother flipped through the pages of a weathered photo album resting on her lap. Each turn of the page revealed a snapshot of your brother's and your past, a journey frozen in time.

—Look! You're wearing my glasses! —Said your mother, with clear emotion in her voice. She turned some pages that had photographs of your childhood: when you were born, your first tooth fell out and many more memories.

Your cheeks flushed with nostalgic warmth, a subtle testament to the innocence and joy captured in each photograph.

Among the sepia-toned memories and faded polaroids, there was a page filled with pictures where Mason and you, both still little children, intertwined in laughter playing in the park.

Your mom pinched your cheek. —Someday you will realize that everything you did was not in vain, on the contrary, it was all worth it. —She stopped to take a breath. —Because golden loves are like that. They stay with you forever.

—How beautiful, mom. —You ironized. She laughed.

—It will, darling... Come here. —And then you hugged her. You hugged her with all your might as you felt her warmth on your face. She giggled, breaking the embrace.

—You'll need a spell to make Mason realize what a fool he is.

—Mom!

A couple days later, you were back at Stamford Bridge once again. As you approach the stadium, you can feel the excitement building. The streets around the stadium eagerly anticipate the game ahead.

Inside the stadium, the dominant colour is blue. The stands are filled with supporters adorned in their team's jerseys, scarves, and signs that say "Pride of London".

—Call her Mason, I’m sure she's in the stands —said Ben, while putting on the new shirt they played in today. Mason held his cell phone, sitting on the bench in the large locker room.

Today was Valentine's Day and Mason had a game. Your brother told Mason he was going out on a date with his girlfriend but you would go in his place, as usual. He didn't know if you were coming, so Mason was nervous, especially with the talk you had in his car.

You had called Debbie in the morning, asking her if you should come to the game, and she told you that Mason would be more than happy to see you there. You wondered if he knew what you were up to if your brother had kept him in the loop.

Pick it up.

The third tone rang while Ben tried to hold Mason, about to faint from anxiety. In the background, music was blasting from the speakers while the guys on the team began gathering in the locker room for their last talk before the game started.

Reece James leaned closer, curious why his teammate was sitting with his phone in hand, bouncing his leg nervously.

—What has got Mount that nervous? I've never seen him like this —he says to Ben, seated next to Mason, fixing his shoes.

—It's his girlfriend-

—She's not my girlfriend! —Mason interrupted Chilwell, with an expression of fear. You still haven't answered him and the fact that his friends were bothering him added to his anxiety.

—Give me that shit. —Suddenly Kai Havertz appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Mason's phone and putting the call on speaker. Everyone's attention was on the tones ringing, hoping you'll pick up. The team had witnessed your situationship since Mason had joined Chelsea, so they knew you quite well.

—Hi? Mason?

Kai, standing on the bench in the centre of the room, had the phone in his hand so everyone could hear. His eyes widened and his mouth also opened, in surprise. Everyone stood up while Mason's blood pressure went down.

With a jump, Havertz handed the cell phone to his friend so he could answer you. There was a silence between your response and his because his teammates were signalling to him, guiding him in his response.

—Yes? —That was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

—You... you've just called me minutes before your game. Is everything okay? Do you need something? —For you, it was strange that Mason called you, especially right before his game. Mason's teammates melt with your response, you seemed like a worried girlfriend.

—N-no, I was calling to know if you're on Stamford Bridge. —He stuttered, nervous about your answer. You smiled a bit, already seated between the blue tide of fans.

—Of course! I wouldn't miss a game for anything Mase. —And that was the end of him. He said goodbye saying that he had to go out and play and hoped you liked the game, while all his friends were shouting acknowledging that probably by the end of the year, they would have a new addition on their team.

The match ended with Chelsea winning by two goals and the assistance of Mason. You couldn't be more proud of him and after the exhilarating victory at Stamford Bridge, you made your way to the cooldown room, where players and staff often gather to unwind after the match.

As you entered, you spotted Mason, the hero of the game with his crucial assist. A sense of pride swelled within you as you approached him. He was putting something in his backpack, distracted.

—Incredible game out there, —you said, startling Mason. He turned with a smile, recognizing your voice without seeing your face.

—Thanks, this means a lot to me... —Mason replied, his face beaming with satisfaction. You both exchanged a few more words about the match, sharing our favourite moments and the atmosphere at the stadium. Then, out of the blue, Mason's tone turned slightly more serious.

—You know... —he said, pausing for a moment. —I've been thinking. We've been through so much together, your support has meant a lot to me.

You nodded, feeling a sense of tenderness with him. Mason took a deep breath before continuing. —Listen, I was wondering if you'd like to grab dinner later. Just to say thanks for always being there, you know?

Surprised by the unexpected invitation, you couldn't help but smile. —I'd be honoured to join you. —You said, laughing out of nervousness.

A couple hours later, Mason kept his hand on your lower back as he led you through the restaurant, your body settled into his side. His hand slid around your waist while opening the door, a shiver already wracking your body. You gasped at the white snow starting to lay outside, thick flakes slowly falling from the sky.

—Look there! Mase, it's snowing! —You tugged a little on Mason's hand on your waist, the heat replacing the cold feeling on your fingers. There was already a pretty thick layer on the ground and you wondered briefly how long it had been snowing. —It's so pretty.

Mason watched your smile widen when he was paying the bill, as you tilted your head back, eyes squinting as the flakes cascaded down. He'd never seen anyone get so excited over snow.

You looked so good under the twinkling lights, the candle in the middle of the table illuminating half of your face. He was having an amazing time, already realizing he mad in love with you.

From the way you keep your hair in a messy ponytail to the way you are surprised by the snow. Everything about you was perfect for him.

—Do you want to go for a walk before I take you home? —He slid his hand over your jaw, his thumb stroking away the little flake on your cheek. You gave a small nod, flushed since all of this was new for you. He grinned before stepping back and holding his hand out to you.

—M'lady?

You looped your arm through his and the two of you started off down the street, his gaze darting between you and the falling snow. You snuggle as close as possible to him to steal some of his natural body heat.

Snow was falling and settling into Mason’s hair, individual flakes dropping onto his eyelashes and you were certain he’d never looked prettier.

—Remember the time I tried to sneak out and you caught me? That time I was actually grounded for fighting with my brother and I wanted to buy the new console game you were so interested in. —You said, recalling those silly things.

He didn't know if his cheeks were flushed pink from the cold or from what you'd just said.

—But that game was so expensive!

—I know! I just wanted to give you something for your birthday. That's why I didn't have any presents for you at your birthday party.

Mason caught your gaze, head cocking curiously at the sudden shy look that had taken over your features. You let your eyes wander from him to the snow-filled street around you. You slowed to a stop, right against the barriers of the little lake and you leant against it, the two of you facing each other, your hand still clasped in his.

All you wanted was to grab him and kiss him, you didn’t care who saw or if you got a cold, you just wanted to kiss him in the snow.

After a silence, he said: —You know I want you, right?

You looked at him. Surprised. Self-conscious Scared. But above all, in love.

—I've been thinking and I can't help falling for you now. I’m not jealous because you have other people in your life, I’m not a fucking kid. That time with Phil, at the party, made me realize that I want you with me... By my side. I want to be the one you say 'I love you' to, I want to be the one that cuddles you, that-

You interrupted him. —Mase, I… I don’t know how to say this… —Voice uncertain as you watched for his reaction, for any flicker of emotion that stated he didn't want that.

His face fell, and he retracted his hands from the barriers that before were trapping you between his body and the barriers. Ready for rejection, he looked into your eyes.

—I… I like you too. —You looked down, feigning sadness. When you looked up, he was squinting at you. —I don't know how are you convincing my brother you're good enough for me...

—I'd probably invite him to one of my games and we could go for dinner after the game? I'll book somewhere for us. —You matched his smile with a nod, shoulders relaxing slightly after the confession as you pulled your hand from his so you could settle your arms around his neck instead.

—Sounds amazing. Deep inside he's a West Ham fan, y'know. — Mason's face contorted a little when he bumped his nose against yours, lips lightly brushing together.

—Oh shut up, —he muttered into your lips, —let me kiss you.

And you obeyed, your hands resting nervously at his neck as he ravished you, his tongue begging for entrance. You allowed it, moaning into his lips as they intertwined perfectly. His hands travelled from your hair to your waist where he pushed you closer to him.

You indeed had waited your whole life for this.

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sakashq · 4 months ago

Note

The dad!Pedri fic was tooooo good we need a dad!Trent arnold fluff i beg😞

She’s Mine (pt. ii.) 𝜗𝜚 trent alexander x fem!reader

❄️ It’s Christmas time and you and your husband take your two girls ice-skating.

❄️ no warnings! just fluff <3

❄️ she’s baccckkkk! i love you sm trent arnold you’ll always be in my heart 💞💞💕💕

❄️ DTS . . . @ar4ujos @halfwayhearted @planetpedri @joaoflms @iovepoem @hrts4havertz

You and your family of four are in the car, heading to the ice-skating rink. You and Trent decided to take your two daughters, Amora and Amerie ice-skating, as the oldest had been begging to go.

Amora was only four, but she swore she would be as good as the figure skaters on TV. She’d never been, which made it all the more funnier.

“Okay, you girls ready?” Trent asked as he pulled into an open parking spot.

“Yes!” your daughters shouted in excitement, ready to get on the rink.

Before getting out you warned them, “There’s gonna be a lot of people, so just hold on to mommy or daddy, okay?”

Your daughters okay’ed in agreement, and you all made your way inside of the rink. You laced up your three year old, Amerie’s skates while Trent handled Amora.

The four of you got on the rink together, Trent holding Amora’s hand and you holding Amerie’s.

Trent and Amora were in front of you, and you could see your daughter struggling. “Daddy, I’m gonna fall,” she whined, trying to use her free hand to stabilize her.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you,” he responded. “Look, watch how daddy does it.” He picked her up, putting her on his neck and held her tightly as he skated through the rink.

Amora giggled and said, “Daddy, put me down, put me down!” You smiled as you watched your husband and oldest play around.

“Mommy, I wanna be like Amora,” Amerie whined with a pout.

“Okay, okay, come here, darling,” You picked her up too, letting her act as if she was flying while you skated. You caught up with Trent, him with Amora still on his neck.

“Daddy, look at sissy! She’s flying!” Amora exclaimed, pointing in excitement.

Trent smiled and said, “Sissy’s a supergirl, isn’t she?”

“And she’s all ours,” you looked at your husband with a smile.

#sakashq #football #premier league #trent alexander arnold #liverpool #liverpool fc #fluff #trent alexander x you #trent alexander fluff #trent alexander x reader #trent alexander imagines

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12amintoronto · 1 month ago

Text

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ... omar marmoush 🩵

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wc: 2.0k

synopsis: headcanons in regards to what omar is like with you during it

contents: 18+ mdni - smut (obviously as per the title)

notes: since you guys expressed interest in my inbox for me to drop this 🥹 i try to be good both during and outside the season of prayer, fasting and giving alms, my friends... but i cooked this up anyways. we are mere mortals who give into temptation... i hope you love it girls 🩵

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a ... aftercare ... what they’re like after sex

"habibti, mmh~ you okay?" omar would say, in a breathy voice as he's just finished giving you sex. he'd quickly get onto carefully scanning over you with his sight, ensuring you weren't showing any signs of discomfort.

"come cuddle, baby... let me hold you~" he'd whisper in the softest of tones. omar wraps you up in his strong arms. he'd probably reach for a sip of water from the nightstand, but he offers the glass to your lips first, giving you adorable pleading eyes

"mmmmhhh... ana bahebek~" he'd say, softly stroking your hair at a relaxed pace, over and over... relishing in your warmth and closeness, the skin to skin contact making it all the more special - "did i love you the way you needed, my love?"

b ... body part ... their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s

omar knows he's got it going on - wherever his muscles have definition that's where he can't stop looking at himself in the mirror. biceps, abs, pecs, back...

although your body is beyond beautiful to omar, he loves your face the absolute most. with the way your eyes can sparkle, lips can curl up into a smile, and blush tinge your cheeks, it gives him the best feeling because it's all in your face when you let him you he's making you feel loved.

c ... cum ... anything to do with cum, basically

omar loves how it looks when you let him cum on your belly - "ya allah..." he'd say in a sexy drawn out moan, looking at the stickiness on your stomach as he pulls back from missionary, kneeling in between your thighs as his big hands rub them softly.

d ... dirty secret ... pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs

omar often gets an erection unconsciously while he's watching you do certain things - when you step out of the shower, when you're cooking breakfast in just a cute robe. it's funny because he doesn't usually act on it though, so poor omar will watch you do your thing, while he's trying not to shift in a way that'll stimulate his cock... probably keeps a pillow on his lap and acts casual - he really tries to be good. he only gives it to you when both of your desires are clearly working in tune with one another.

e ... experience how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?

omar wasn't one to date as a teenager/adolescent guy... he was so invested in football and that only until he met you. you're his first time, yet he is such a natural.

f ... favourite position ... this goes without saying

omar loves giving you sex in missionary. the fact that he can pull you into a hug while his dick is inside you, and the way you wrap your legs around his waist while he's inside has him going... it's important to omar that he can admire your face, whether he's stroking strands of your hair out of the way, taking in your expressions, or even better, kissing you.

an honourable mention... sometimes omar will lift you up from underneath your thighs, as your arms are wrapped around his shoulders... and fuck you while he's standing up, and you're suspended in his arms.

g ... goofy ... are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

omar is collected and focused on loving you right during sex, but there's always the occasional moment where he just looks right into your soul almost and it makes you laugh, and then he laughs too, going in for a kiss, and it even makes the two of you laugh when he bites you softly - he can be humorous not in the sense that something is explicitly funny, but it's the laughter that comes from the joy of being together. it's adorable.

h ... hair ... how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

talking about his hair in that area? he's trimmed - not clean shaven, but neat.

i ... intimacy ... how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect

sex is sacred to omar. this is something he will wait until marriage to do. very very romantic. omar loves to kiss you, hold you in his arms, let you hold onto his body, and whisper sweet nothings to you while he's inside. he loves to stop for a second and take this all in.

he gets that sex is the furthest one can go with someone, and he takes his time with you because he loves you so much.

while omar's buried inside you in missionary, he will stay like that for a second. not thrusting. just resting... his lips brushing against yours though. like this, he speaks to you softly and reinforces your bond by whispering to you how he loves you so much and you're his everything, asking you what you want him to do. 🥺🩵

j ... jack off ... masturbation headcanon

omar is fond of mutual masturbation with you - even though his go to method to non penetrative sex is oral, he's always so mesmerized by the sight of you touching your own self.

he loves watching your fingers wrap around his shaft, just working him from base to tip. just as a little warm up.

k ... kink ... one or more of their kinks

omar's a vanilla boy for the most part, he doesn't need anything incredibly extravagant in addition to spice things up if he already has what he wants most - you.

he is one for praising you - imagine him with his sultry egyptian accent close to your ear, whispering to you ; "you look so pretty taking me like this, habibti~"

l ... location ... favorite places to do it

in the bedroom... early morning as the sun filters through the windows at its brightest. omar loves to unravel your naked body from the bed sheets, admiring how the sun kisses your bare skin.

on the sofa in the living room... that's for later at night, the both of you watching a film with the lights low and warm, quickly escalating once you guys slip into a makeout... ending up with you straddling him, riding his dick... while he lays back with his legs parted, watching you.

m ... motivation ... what turns them on, gets them going

when you guys are sharing such an intimate moment that you are feeling vulnerable and comfy with him enough to let out your sultry side... saying things to him that make him bite his bottom lip as he envisions what you want. think makeout sessions that go on for a bit too long - you end up straddling his thigh, grinding on it... and once he pulls back to catch his breath, both of you guy's lips just slightly swollen from kissing intensely, he'll give you this nod that tells you everything.

n ... no ... something they wouldn’t do, turn offs

omar would never even think about doing anything that could hurt you.

o ... oral ... preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

oh, omar lives in between your thighs. he'll eat your pussy like you wouldn't believe. he doesn't just lick - he uses his entire mouth on you - "lie back, sweetie... this is my treat to you" he'll say, kissing your lips, and before you know it, you're writhing as he sucks and alternates between flicking his tongue against you, then giving you a languid, long lick. he wants to eat you out well enough to the point where he can make you squirt, wetting his beard.

he never says no if you wanna suck his dick - if you're a pro at it, lovely, but if you just wanna giggle at him and look at him with doe eyes while swirling your tongue over his tip, licking along his length? he just watches you, fingers laced together as his hands are behind his head, with the biggest smile. "mmh... this view is so perfect, habibti."

omar LOVES when you tangle your fingers through his curls while he eats your pussy.

p ... pace ... are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

for the most part in all of your sessions, omar will prioritize making that beautifully slow love to you, but his passion can range brilliantly. 80% of a round with omar consists of slow deep strokes.

slow sensual sex with omar doesn't always have to be perfectly calculated. he loves fucking you lazily, too, just enjoying the moment, drinking in every bit of what's happening.

but that other 20%, he gets that bout of energy - "you want this faster, baby? harder? mhm?" - he's relentless, claiming you, breathing heavily.

q... quickie ... their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

eh. omar prefers to have as much time in the world to kill when it comes to pleasing you.

r... risk ... are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

he wants to know how far you wanna go. even then, he's still checking up on you. interested in a new position where you'll feel him REAL deep? or if you have to get really flexible? best believe he's taking this bit by bit - "just let me know habibti... tell me if it feels good... if it's too much."

s ... stamina ... how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

he's a footballer so lorddd he can go ON. omar can definitely cum a few times in a row before his body is telling him it's time to recover... but recovery is QUICK. if you guys had finished just a half hour ago and are cuddling, and you sublty grind against him - "mmmh, you need another round, habibti? no problem..."

t ... toys ... do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

nah, he doesn't feel the need for any... you guys have got each other!

u ... unfair ... how much they like to tease

omar's so good at teasing you. of course he wants to give you your pleasure straight up... but your reactions are adorable to him.

imagine he's teasing the entrance to your pussy with the head of his cock. "i just want to hear you say it, habibti..." he doesn't keep it up for an extended period of time though.

v ... volume ... how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

omar's moans are between the two of you to hear... and it might be the hottest thing you've ever heard. for no one else to hear but you, his beloved.

every time his cock slips out of you... he holds you close to him and his lips hover above yours, and he moans alongside you as he slowly, slowlllyyyy slides it back inside you - "ya allahh... you feel this, my love?"

w ... wild card ... a random headcanon for the character

omar wants to make things of this sort such an out-of-this-world experience for you, that he'd literally get his hands on the kama sutra and pencil a star beside the positions that he tries with you that you tell him are your favourite.

x ... x-ray ... let’s see what’s going on under those clothes

his size is just right... with just a littlleee bit more making his length above average, and he's thick enough that it does take a minute for you to adjust... but the pain fades away and becomes pleasure so fast.

y ... yearning ... how high is their sex drive?

omar is always obsessed with you, and is such a man madly in love... but the moment means everything to him. he will only want it if you want it... but when he is in the mood, he is locked in.

z ... zzz ... how quickly they fall asleep afterwards

considering omar's very impressive stamina, it's not like he will always fall asleep very easily. often times, you will fall asleep in omar's arms after your first or second orgasm, and he will just stay awake and watch over you admiring your serene expression, holding you, playing with your hair, and kissing your hair. but he'll find it so relaxing if you guys do it in bed at night that he will just fall asleep into the next day with you.

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