Moments Alone ~ Mason Mount

A/N: I was looking through my drafts and found this sitting there finished. The Women’s EURO has been hectic so here’s a nice calm domestic fic with Mason to bring the tempo down. Enjoy :)

Warnings: none - reader’s gender is not specified

Summary: You’re both up early in the morning, but sometimes that is the most golden time to be awake.

gif by @ricciardoe

It’s Monday morning, so that means one thing: you’re tired.

i have it in the works, just struggling with it a little atm. the poll i did said people wanted to see the other requests too so i'm thinking it will come out after some of those.

REALLY thinking i'm gonna leave the grealish love island series until the next season is on tho so i can do it proper justice.

xx

Car Sick P1 ~ Dominic Calvert-Lewin

A/N: This is sort of carried on from this blurb I wrote a while ago, bc I loved the idea and wanted to write more for it, you should probs read that first to catch the vibes. This is for @footballffbarbiex writing challenge based on tv and film. I used this storyline from Modern Family with Gloria and Jay. Once again, no real timeline with this, just made up scenarios. I struggled with the next bit of this so I asked you how you wanted it and you chose 2 parts, here's the 1st. Enjoy :)

Warnings: pregnancy, kids, step parents, injury mention - reader is female

Summary: You thought you were just feeling car sick, turns out it's something else...

gif by @hishairmyweakness - gif by @delstroyer

You were dropping your daughter off at Dele's for a long weekend since he didn't have a match or training to attend. After she had squeezed the biggest hug out of her dad and trudged dirt in his hallway, she perched on the sofa with her ipad and juicebox, leaving you and Dele to catch up.

ahh i was never planning to do a part 2 for that fic tbh, sorry :/

wow, what a compliment, thank you so much!

I only started writing smut for these blurb days (and a couple nsfw alphabets) so I'm glad you like them, maybe I start including smut in the proper fics too👀

can't help but write Joe as this chill guy who is so dirty on the down low 👀 was one of my faves from the bunch too, glad you liked them!!

thank you, so many hugs for you!!

It had been a few days since you stormed out of his car. He had tried calling you, texting you, even contacting some of your friends, but you wouldn't speak to Erling. Not after he put his rude friend's opinion over his girlfriend. You would be lying if you said you hadn't missed having him in your life, even the days when you only shared a few texts in the morning, it meant a lot to you and you missed being able to turn to him for comfort. 

It was Saturday evening and you had nothing better to do than sit at home with snacks, deciding against your better will to watch the Dortmund match. It was a decent game, but you could tell Erling wasn't playing his best, his mind clearly distracted. That was until he scored a goal from the edge of the box. He ran past all his teammates to the camera behind the barricade and kissed his wrist before pointing at it. There it was. His bracelet. Back where it normally was like it had never left. You sighed into the sofa cushions as you watched him staring down the camera talking, his words easily picked up without a crowd there. "I was stupid. I love this. I love you." He kissed it again before he was swarmed in hugs by his teammates. When he finished celebrating and the replays had gone, it cut back to Erling ending a hug with Bellingham as he turned back the camera. He held his fingers to his face like a phone and mouthed "pick up", put his hands in a pray position and went back to rejoin the players on the pitch. You were overcome with emotion. Of course he'd find a way to talk to you, to show you how much you meant to him, and if you wouldn't let him do it privately then he had no problem doing it for the world to see. He was dumb for letting his friends get to him like he had, and he knew it as soon as you walked away.

You were in two minds about what to do for the rest of the match, but when he called you later on, you answered on the first ring, giving in completely as he immediately sank into apology after apology.

You had started dating while he played for Celtic and travelled up to Scotland quite a bit for him. When your relationship went public, you both ended up getting asked about each other frequently. Some personal questions, some harmless questions, you just had your fun with it most of the time. Both your accents were made fun of by the other in silly impressions, his admittedly much better than yours. You often made sure you had an irn bru with you on tour since he got you hooked on it.

Kieran often teased, saying you were the only English singer he could stand, and even then it was only a few songs before he'd be switching to Lewis Capaldi again. And you gave it right back, always praising the English Premier League over the Scottish. 

So by the time Kieran was winning the FA Cup with Arsenal and you were number 1 with a feature on a Calvin Harris single, you couldn't help joking about the bad influences you had been on each other. But no matter how much messing about there is, you support each other like crazy and will always have the others' back - even if it does mean compromising your playful stance on your countries. 

Erling pulled out of you and knelt back, turning you on your front and pulling your hips up so you were on your knees. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and lifted your head off the bed, leaning over your back to reach your ear. "I've had enough of your bratty behaviour doll," he said through his teeth, "Do I need to teach you how not to act?" When he let go of your hair, you dropped back down, not holding yourself up by your arms and letting your hips go back down too. Erling had to brace himself with his hands either side of your body so he didn't fall on you since he'd been leaning his hips on yours. He leant back on his ankles and brought his hand down on your ass, causing you to gasp loudly and wiggle your hips a little from the sharp pain. Erling just used his left hand to press your waist down and spanked you again. You shuffled on the sheets to try and get out from him but he just straddled the back of your legs, keeping you in place as he spanked and spanked your cheek until it was red. You yelped at the pain but moaned when he leant down to kiss over the handprint, before he spread your legs, got up on his knees and pulled your hips up so you were on yours. He slid into your pussy again, his full length inside you in one thrust then stilled for a moment. He roughly squeezed your red cheek before slapping it hard once more, pulling out until just the tip was left before thrusting in again and again and again, his hand kneading your ass the whole time.

You straddled his lap with your arms on his shoulders, in the middle of a sloppy makeout session. The booth you were in was at the back corner of the bar, not illuminated by the lights like the dance floor was but certainly not invisible. It was long past midnight and everyone you came with was drinking, none were quite as drunk as you, but tipsy enough to be dancing to the tunes without care.

You started grinding on Mason's crotch, needy and unashamed. You could feel his erection growing under you as his hands held your waist. But he still had a littles sense left in him. He knew he couldn't fuck you here with all these people around and not get caught up in something that would follow him for months. So, against his best wishes, he hooked a hand under your leg and moved you to sit on his thigh instead.

"Keep going sweetheart." He rasped in your ear barely audible above the music. You wasted no time, rocking again as Mason hitched your dress up to grope your ass and keep you moving. He caught your lips again and stuck his tongue in your mouth as he nudged your panties to the side, the material of his jeans rubbing perfectly against your pussy. Any clarity he had before was thrown out the window as you pulled helplessly at his shirt. He swallowed your moans as you came, continuing your movements with his hands while your leg shook between his. You pulled your head back and he brushed your hair off your cheek, kissing it sloppily and telling you all the nasty things he wants to do to you.

It was only a minute before you were walking out with your hand in his, your dress pulled back down and your purse on your shoulder as Mason walked as fast as he could, wet patch on his jeans and lipstick on his face that he was far too drunk to care about.

Erling got up off the ground, a grimace on his face as he wiped the grass off the fresh graze and cut on the side of his knee. He peered over his shoulder to see Hernandez getting a yellow card for the foul, clearly unimpressed at the sanction he was receiving. Players started to dissipate, a couple patting Erling's back on their way, Marco asking if he was alright. Erling shrugged it off, snarling back over his shoulder at the Bayern player when admittedly he shouldn't have. "Yeah he just shocked me." He said loudly so Marco could hear over the crowd noise, yet it was loud enough for Lucas' ears too.

Lucas was walking behind Erling back up the pitch and wouldn't let that look go unnoticed. "I'll shock you Haaland if that's what you want," he started trash talking but Erling ignored him, "you ask your girl to look after your knee yeah, she'll shock you too, telling you no because she'll be busy with me," Erling turned around at this, not able to pretend he couldn't hear him now your name was brought up. "Oh that get to you huh?" Lucas carried on taunting him as Erling came closer to him. "Don't talk about her, alright?" Erling was trying to stay calm as best as he could but with Lucas still talking it was getting harder. "I'll talk about her as much as I want, talk to her while she's on her knees for me, learning what a winner feels li-" he couldn't finish the word before Erling was pushing him down, one hand on his shoulder, one hand on his neck. The whistle blew as Erling stood over Lucas, and he was so enthralled in shouting threats at the player never to talk about you again that he only noticed the red card as Marco and Thorgan tried pushing him away from the commotion.

After a moment and a lot of shouted words from the captain, he started walking off the pitch, head hung at the way he reacted. He knew he needed to be on the pitch to help the team come back from the 1-0 they were under, but he didn't regret what he did at the same time. Erling would always protect you, by your side and without you there. Now, he just needed to get home to you.

Dele had been playing with Eric whilst you and his girlfriend tanned on your loungers. But when she wanted to go in the water, Eric had followed and Dele convinced you to take his place. You'd picked up the rules they were playing with from watching them and felt fairly confident you could keep up with Dele. He kissed you as he gave you the ball so you could serve, smacking your ass to send you on your way. It took you four failed serves before he decided to do it himself, so this time if it did get over the net it wouldn't go right over his head instead.

The longer you played, the better you got. You'd smacked it out of his reach a number of times and bragged when you did, him shrugging it off and giving you the same back. He teased you relentlessly and talked all kinds of rubbish that he knew would be used against him if he lost his mojo. You both wanted to win so bad you had started keeping a tally in the sand beside the net post, on it's second life after Dele had smothered it out with his foot when he was 5-1 down.

Eric and his girlfriend had returned to a completely different couple to the one they left, no longer sharing cheeky touches and jokes but now eager to beat the other. Eric's girlfriend giggled as she ran between you and the net, ducking not to get hit while it was on Dele's side. But when the ball came back over, tipping past your fingertips, Eric had jumped and smacked it back to Dele's side. As soon as it hit the sand, shouts erupted as Dele protested but you insisted that the point was yours and you had gotten 10 points before him. Eric just laughed and held up his hands, giving the decision to the 'impartial judge'. Dele just grumbled to himself as he went to go buy you an ice cream after Eric's girlfriend declared you winner.

"Yeah, I'll have to ask her later." He spoke down the phone to a person you didn't know, trying his hardest to sound composed, and if you knew no better you would have believed he was fine.

But you knew much better. You saw the way Joe's throat gulped down when you kissed under his jaw, your hand on the other side lightly scratching his beard. Joe held the phone away from his face a little so you didn't touch the screen and so the other person couldn't hear your quiet gasps. You had been making out on the sofa when the phone call interrupted the heated moment, but you just couldn't control yourself enough to wait. Despite Joe slightly moving his face out the way of your lips when he first picked up, he was now leaning into your touch. His arm had wrapped around your waist since you moved to straddle his thigh instead of his lap and his hand had only held you tighter as your hips slowly rocked against him. Your underwear and his shorts gave that needed friction you couldn't wait for as Joe tried and failed to listen to the man on the phone, having to ask him to repeat himself twice already. He had held his voice well, but you could hear the subtle falters as you picked up speed and clutched his shirt at the back of his shoulder. A moan escaped you louder than you meant it to and Joe instinctively hummed and grabbed your ass. You heard the man ask what the noise was and you couldn't hide your smirk, Joe feeling it against the crook of his neck along with your hot breath. He knew you were close as you struggled to swallow your moans. "You know what, I'm gonna have to call you back." He sighed into the phone, not waiting for a response before hanging up, dropping it on the cushions next to him and grabbing your hip with his now empty hand, just in time for the loud moans of your orgasm to sound freely in the room.

You had noticed the changes in his behaviour; how he had been working harder in the gym, how he held your hand tighter and pulled you along with him a little harder, how he turned down a pamper night with you he usually would have enjoyed relaxing with, how he'd insisted on being the big spoon on the nights you spent together. At first you thought it was strange but let it slip as you didn't want to cause a problem. But you couldn't ignore it any longer when you saw the pink and yellow string bracelet you'd bought him for his birthday - the one he loved and wore everyday, the one he kissed in a goal celebration for you - laying in the cup holder of his car for the third day in a row.

His hand was loosely linked with yours in your lap as he drove you both home. You stroked his bare wrist with your finger, preparing yourself for your upcoming question. "Hey Erl, where is your bracelet?" He hummed in question, frowning confused as he glanced at your hands before looking back at the road. "I must have forgotten it this morning, I don't like to shower with it on." He replied, focused on the road but clearly avoiding your gaze. He knew as soon as you saw his eyes you would see him lying.

"Is it something I've done?" You asked abruptly when he stopped in his driveway and Erling snapped his head at you. "What? No! I just forgot to put it back on elskling, it's okay-" "No," you interrupted him, stopping his hand from moving your hair, "it's not okay. It's just another thing you're ditching isn't it?" He frowned and shifted in his seat to face you after he took his keys out the ignition. "What's this about, baby?" He feigned innocence but he knew what it was, he just hoped you hadn't noticed his changes but you evidently had as you rapped them off to him, struggling to meet his eyes.

"It was um," Erling cleared his throat as he chose his words carefully, "it was this stupid comment my friend said when we went out the other week, that I was a 'different man, if he could even call me that', I don't know it just stuck with me," his words trailed off before he perked up a little, "he actually said you were a bad influence on me." Erling chuckled and shook his head as he tried to alleviate the tension.

It didn't work. He looked at you and his slight smile instantly dropped at your raised eyebrows. "I'm the bad influence?" You asked, shocked beyond belief at what you were hearing. Erling didn't catch the message and stuck to his guns. "Come on, it is a little… girly…" he muttered. That was enough for you - having heard all you needed to know, you grabbed the bracelet out the cup holder and threw it at him, getting out the car and slamming the door. "Where are you going, Y/N?" He shouted after you as he stood. Without looking back, you shouted over your shoulder, "Home. I'll walk if I have to. I can't look at you right now." Erling called your name again but you had your mind made up and carried on down the street with your bag on your shoulder and your hands shaking with anger.

You stood on the stage by your mic stand, still in your travel clothes since you hadn't been off your tour bus long, only now you had your boyfriend's jacket covering you too. After a gulp of water and a thumbs up from a man in headphones, your band played the music and you started singing a second song to check the sound.

When you finished, the music was replaced with Emile's round of applause from his position in the seats up the side of the empty crowd, his feet up on the seat in front of him. You bowed over in his direction, unable to stop your laugh at his loud whistle. Some would have been embarrassed by his actions but you couldn't be. Emile came to your soundchecks every time he could, preferring the relaxed environment to the actual concert, and he loved joking around with you so much. He got to see you in your element doing what you do best without a load of strangers around him. It felt like a mini personal concert and he always indulged in the feeling. Your band even looked forward to Emile showing up at this point.

Plus how could you be embarrassed by him cheering for you, when the first song you sound-checked had him standing in front of the stage filming an instagram story as he danced and sang along, the only fan in the big space until the night came around.

Mason knew you had a bad weekend and, with him travelling abroad for his Champions League group stage match, he felt awful for not being there to comfort you properly.  As soon as he woke up he texted you, wishing he was rolling over to cuddle you instead of seeing Ben snoring on the other bed of the hotel room. You could have gotten lost in your morning sweet talk if you didn't have to get ready for a stressful day at work. Coupled up with all the struggles you'd had the past few days it was the last thing you wanted, but Mason promised to be with you as much as he could from all those miles away.

Since his long chain of texts gearing you up before you got out of your car, every time you got a chance to look at your phone it was alight with a fresh text from your boyfriend. He checked in on you, reassured you, and gave you an extra push to keep powering through. He even sent texts while he sat on the plane home, telling you funny things he saw and complaining about Ben's snoring again. All day Mason made you smile and distracted you from your rough emotions and you couldn't be more thankful to have him. But your favourite texts during the day were the ones in which he outlined what you were going to do when you both got home; cuddles, kisses, and comfort galore to cheer you up in the right way.