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mounts89 · 1 year

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card sharks, playing games

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

Pairing: Mason Mount x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Summary: Mason x reader play a dangerous game of cat and mouse, each trying to outmaneuver the other. Moving with the grace of dancers, your steps are calculated and precise as you circle around each other, playing mind games and testing your limits. Getting lost in the game, unable to resist the pull of each other.

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

Note: This had started as a oneshot idea (that was headed a different direction), but I think I like this better. I hope you enjoy reading this and look forward to the next part :) Your feedback is greatly appreciated!

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

As you walk into the house with your friend, Mabel, the first thing that hits you is the thumping beat of the music, so loud, you can barely hear your thoughts. As you look around, you can see groups of people chatting, and laughing with drinks in hand. However, what really catches your eye are the famous group of footballers, influencers, and minor Z-list celebrities. You and Mabel exchange a knowing look, thrilled to be part of such a vibrant scene.

You see Ben’s face light up across the room as he sees Mabel, rushing to the door to greet her with a hug and kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t believe you made it. Thank you for coming.” Ben says to her before turning to you and doing the same with a smile.

As the story went, she had met his sister at the gym, who just so happened to set them up on a blind date a few weeks ago. Since then, they had begun going out and from what you had heard and from what you could see, they seemed to enjoy each other’s company.

“And you must be Y/N. Nice to finally meet you,” he continues while addressing you.

You return the smile at his hospitality. Not being able to concentrate on his words, in shock at the fact that you find yourself surrounded by some of your favourite footballers.

Ben introduces you to some people as he walks you across to his hall, but your mind has no time to remember who is who, the situation you find yourself in leaving you completely enthralled.

You finally get to the kitchen, and he grabs one of the twenty bottles of liquor sitting on his counter, tequila. He grabs three shots glasses, one for each of you.

As you’re standing around waiting for him to pour, from the corner of your eye, you notice him. He’s not even two feet away. I mean, how could you not notice him. He stands out among all of the people around you. Not just because of his height and physique, his flushed cheeks, and his loud laughter. A laugh that echoes in your head as soon as you hear it, one you’re sure you could recognize anywhere after having heard it for only a few seconds.

He stands out. Not just because of his flushed rosy cheeks and relaxed demeanour. Not just because he had been clearly drinking. But also because of the way he effortlessly commands attention. Because of the way his given charm seemed to have the people around him (yourself included) cling to every word he says and laugh at every joke he tells.

“Hey, pour one more. And bring your friend over there, the one with the glasses,” you whisper to Ben, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

You shock yourself at your sudden boost of confidence, but you figure that you only have one chance to get to know him.

Immediately, Ben follows your gaze in his direction and smirks.

“Mase, come here!” he shouts over the music, as he pours another shot.

Mabel, immediately catching onto your game, grabs Ben’s arms towards the living room, sending you a wink as she leaves Mason and you alone.

“Well, I guess we can do these together then?” you speak to him for the first time as you gesture to the four shots that had been poured out.

“You know, you could at least tell me your name before you try to get me drunk,” he smiles at you as he takes his glasses off, placing them over your head.

“I’m afraid,” you begin, taking the first shot, “you’re already drunk. You have that drunk glow. But if you must know, I’m Y/N,” you say as you take the second shot. Immediately, you regret it, feeling the familiar burn in the back of your throat.

But you figured, that if you wanted to keep your confidence streak going, tequila sure as hell would help.

He chuckles, looking at you as you pick up the next shot glass, immediately grabbing your hand to stop you.

“Well Y/N, nice to meet you. I’m Mason.” he smiles as he takes the drink from your hand to his lips.

“I know. I saw you on TV at the World Cup. Number 19, I think.”

“That’s me,” his eyes widen with amusement, “so you're a football fan?”

“It’s the World Cup, everyone was watching,” you tell him, not wanting your cover to blow. Of course, you were a football fan and a Mason fan at that. But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet, at least.

“Fair,” he tells you, seemingly convinced by your answer.

“Do you smoke?” you ask him immediately, changing the subject.

“Nope, do you?”

You knew the answer, of course, he didn’t. He’s a professional athlete, for God’s sake.

“No, just wanted an excuse to go outside and get some fresh air.”

“You know,” he chuckles, “if you wanted to take me out, you could’ve just asked without making an excuse.”

You roll your eyes at him but feel grateful that, at least, he wouldn’t take the night too seriously.

Nonetheless, he motions towards the back door and gives you a knowing smile, suggesting that he, too, wanted to escape the noise and commotion of the party. As he leads you through the crowded living room, you feel his hand gently guiding you through the throngs of people.

As you as you step outside into the backyard, you’re struck by the sudden quietness. You swear you could hear his and your heartbeats in sync. The contrast between the chaotic energy of the party inside and the serenity of the outdoors is stark, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you.

He gestures for you to follow him towards a secluded corner of the garden, where a small seating are had been set up with a soft glow of fairy lights illuminating the space.

Dreamy, you think to yourself.

As you settle into the comfortable cushion, he leans dangerously close to you, his voice low and hushed as he speaks to you.

“So, Y/N, you know what I do, it’s only fair you tell me what you do.”

“I’m a full-time student, doing my Master’s.”

“Smart and beautiful.”

You feel a nervous flutter in your chest as you dare to look into his eyes for the first time that night. Warm honey brown, you make a mental note. With a depth that seemed to draw you in. His gaze meets yours, and you can’t help but feel a sense of curiosity, intrigue, and mischief. It’s as if your eyes are speaking the same language to each other without saying anything. As if you were both starting to play a game that either:

You were both sure to win, or

You were both sure to lose.

It was both exhilarating and intimidating.

You roll your eyes at him for the second time that night, “How many of the girls in there have you used that line on?”

He laughs, “You’re the first one I’ve used it on tonight.”

“Very funny, Mason.”

“You know, I’ve been told that, apart from my amazing football skills, I also have a pretty good sense of humour.”

“Is that so?” your own smile playing at the corner of your lips. “Have you also been told that you’re quite humble.”

“Oh, it might’ve come up,” he retorts, “but, I’m more interested in seeing if I can make you laugh tonight.”

“You know, I’m not that easy,” you say with a teasing tone. “If your sense of humour is as good as your pickup lines, you’ll have to work harder than that.”

He leans in close to your ear, “Oh, I’m up for the challenge,” he whispers.

You feel a shiver run down your spine as his breath tickles your ear. You catch a whiff of his scent, a mixture of cologne and alcohol. He smells… strong and masculine, with notes of wood and spice that are both comforting and alluring. The kind of scent that makes you want to stay frozen in place and breathe him in. Mixed with the cologne, the unmistakable smell of alcohol lingers on his breath. You feel the liquor you’d had starting to take its own effect, intoxicating you when mixed with his body heat and the soft brush of his breath against your skin. You feel your senses being heightened. Feeling more alive than you had in a long time.

Sure, you were pushing his buttons, testing his limits. You knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t resist the thrill of the game.

“Well, I’m not going to make it easy for you,” you say with a flirtatious smile. “You’ll have to earn every laugh.”

◌ ◌ ◌

‧₊ *:･ﾟ彡 ◌ ☽︎ ◌

◌ ✩彡･ﾟ *:

◌ ◌

And that’s how the rest of the night went. Engaging in a subtle game of one-upmanship. Testing his boundaries, trying to outsmart him throughout the night.

The two of you only wander into the house occasionally to pour yourselves more drinks, and to laugh at his friends’ antics.

You also find yourself getting closer and closer to him. Physically, at least. At one point, you realized you were leaning in so close to him that your legs were practically intertwined. And before you knew it, you had somehow ended up sitting on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close. It felt electric. The tension -palpable as you felt his body shake whenever he laughed and when he looked into your eyes.

Just as you feel him leaning in. And if his mind is racing as much as yours is, he was leaning in for a kiss. You rack your brain, trying to come up with an excuse to get out of the situation.

As if by some divine intervention, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

He chuckles as he looks over you shoulder. “Looks like she’s looking for you,” he says, looking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You glance up at him, feeling vulnerable, all of a sudden sobering up as you notice how close you are. The unspoken push and pull that’s been building all night becoming all too apparent now.

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

Your heart races as you feel his body against yours, and you can’t help but wonder what his kisses would feel like on your lips.

But you have to stay strong, you remind yourself.

Because, for as much as you’re enjoying his company, you don’t want to be just another girl on his list. As fun of a story as this would make, you needed to remind yourself that this, wouldn’t mean anything to him.

So you pull away from the embrace and give him a weak smile. You feel his eyes burning with a desire that you’re not quite ready to explore yet.

“I had a really great time, Mase, but unfortunately, I have to head out now,” you say, aware of the potential hangover looming over you the next morning.

“Aw, lover girl, do I get a goodnight kiss before you go?” he asks with a playful grin, finally asking the question that had been pondering his mind all night.

You pause, scared that he can hear the uncertainty in your thoughts. Kissing him tonight would only complicate things, you tell yourself.

“I have to be honest with you, I can’t kiss you.”

He looks at you disappointed as he asks, “You don’t have a boyfriend, now do you?”

You chuckle, “No, it’s not that, I just don’t want to risk ruining the great memory of tonight by complicating things with a kiss.”

He looks confused, so you explain, “Did you have a good time tonight?”

“The best,” he counters almost immediately.

“Exactly, I did too. This memory… This,” you gesture between each other, “will forever be great. But, if we kiss tonight, if might ruin this memory.”

“Why would it ruin it?”

“If we kiss, this becomes real. You might use too much tongue or not enough tongue. And then, suddenly... poof, spell’s broken.”

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

“Anyone in here?” you ask him, half-jokingly, half-seriously. Thinking of all of the gorgeous girls that were at the party, you were sure he had kissed a couple. That would explain some of the looks you had been getting from them.

He throws his head back, laughing with his entire body. Infectious and joyous, you can’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his energy radiating toward you.

But he doesn’t respond, you note.

As his laughter dies down, you lean in, savouring the tension between you. You know you shouldn’t do it, but you can’t resist the urge to tease him. You lean in even closer to him, lips mere centimetres apart. You decide to give him a taste.

You pull him in, enough to keep him intrigued.

You figure that, if you put your lips close to his, as long as they don’t touch, nothing is ruined. The memory is still great.

“And in any case,” you whisper, “the best part of a kiss is the anticipation. The excitement of wondering what’s going to happen. The build up…”

“And then,” he tells you, just low enough for you to hear, “when it finally happens, it makes it all the more special. Pure magic”

“Exactly. But, that moment can be just as special on its own, don't you think?”

Both of you don’t say anything. Staying in that position for what feels like an eternity. Fearful that, if you say anything, if you move, it will taint the memory.

You fight every urge to kiss him, muster up every bit of self-control you have before you place your hands on his eyes.

“Close your eyes,” you murmur. As he obliges, you pull away and stand up, finally making your way to the door. You don’t dare look back at him as you walk out.

And you’re confident that the memory of the night would stay with you, pure, and unadulterated. The laughter, the teasing, the anticipation, you’d remember it all for what it was.

Maybe it’s for the best that tonight stays as it is, no strings attached and no complications. Maybe it’s for the better to keep the memory of the night intact, keeping that mystery alive. Still, you can’t help but feel a little disappointed. Wondering what his lips would taste like.

But it’s all just part of the game, you tell yourself.

Walking outside, you see Mabel waiting for you, and the cold air suddenly hits you. Just now realizing how much his body heat was keeping you warm throughout the night.

Despite all of the emotions running through your body, however, you’re almost certain that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

You pull him in, enough to keep him intrigued.

But pull away, enough to protect your heart.